“That is basically it,” said Caina. “The Rebel leader is named Gabriel Navarre. He’s one of the Gatekeepers, and he escaped the Sky Hammer blast. He has guns loaded with Shadowlands-ore bullets, and he’s holding Baron Kaldmask, his knights, and several thousand human guests hostage in the dining hall.”
“Hell,” said Martin, rubbing his jaw. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“What demands has he been making?” said Nadia, nodding towards the barricade. The voice of the man with the megaphone echoed over the assemblage of vehicles and heavy weaponry.
“Completely impractical and nonsensical ones,” said Martin. “It’s been on a loop for a while. They want one billion dollars, and they also want all Rebel prisoners freed and surrendered into their custody. Not damned likely, since the Elven nobles don’t take prisoners when it comes to the Rebels. When he’s not making demands, he’s been reading off tracts from political manifestos.” Martin shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense. He knows the Elves won’t negotiate with Rebels. All he’s going to do is get himself and a lot of innocent people killed for nothing.” He scowled. “The Rebels are done. Most of their support infrastructure burned up with Venomhold, and the Inquisition and the various national police forces have been picking off the survivors for the last two months. Navarre is going to get a lot of people killed for a lost cause.”
“We think it’s just a trick,” said Nadia.
“What do you mean?” said Martin.
“We interrogated a wounded Rebel during our escape,” said Caina. “We weren’t able to get much out of him, but he mentioned that the reason Navarre attacked the mansion wasn’t to take hostages or even to make demands, but to take something from the Baron. The man we spoke with seemed to believe that Navarre was looking for something that could restore the Rebels’ fortunes. A hidden magical weapon is the most likely candidate.”
“Damn it,” said Martin. “This just gets better and better.”
“General,” said Nadia. “We may be able to help. Caina and I have unique abilities that might be useful.”
“What kind of abilities?” said Martin.
“She’s the most powerful human wizard I’ve ever encountered,” said Caina. “Stronger than many Elven nobles.”
“Really?” said Martin. “I don’t suppose you could just Cloak and shoot Navarre in the head.”
Nadia grimaced. “I’d really like to do that, but Navarre has a magical device with him that generates a continuous Seal of Unmasking. No illusion spells will work in the dining hall.”
“I suppose that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” said Martin. He paced back and forth a few times, brow furrowed with thought. “We have ninety minutes.”
“Ninety minutes until what?” said Caina.
“Until Lord Mythrender arrives with his vassals and men-at-arms,” said Martin. “They’re gathering right now, and they’re on their way to Brooklyn. As soon as the force is assembled, Lord Mythrender is going to storm Kaldmask’s mansion and kill the Rebels.”
“Most of the hostages are going to die if that happens,” said Caina.
“Agreed,” said Martin. “I don’t see any way around it. Lord Mythrender will refuse to negotiate. I’ve put every hospital in New York on emergency footing, and every hospital within three hours of Brooklyn has been told to expect massive casualties.” He took a deep breath. “But if your friend can Cloak you both, Caina, maybe we can find a way to avert that.”
“What do you have in mind?” said Caina.
“If you can Cloak and return to the mansion,” said Martin, “maybe you can find what Navarre wants and steal it before he can escape with it.”
Caina shared a look with Nadia.
“Whatever it is, it’s heavy,” said Nadia. “We escaped through the truck dock. He’s got a semi idling there, and a bunch of goons with pallet jacks. I think he’s planning to load the thing on the truck and escape.”
“That’s a bad plan,” said Martin. “A semi isn’t a good escape vehicle. There’s no way he could get away with it.”
“He will if he can open a rift way,” Nadia said. “And he was one of their Gatekeepers. I bet he’s got a refuge set up in the Shadowlands, and the access point is a short distance away. He’ll take the truck and push the weapon into the Shadowlands.”
“The Elven nobles know the rift way spell,” said Martin. “They would be able to follow Navarre.”
“Except once Navarre gets to the Shadowlands,” said Caina, following Nadia’s train of logic to its conclusion, “he needs only to take a few steps in any direction. Then the next rift way he opens will take him somewhere else on Earth. The Elven nobles wouldn’t be able to find him. In fact, I bet Navarre’s already got his escape route planned out. He knows where he’s going.”
“Unless he pops into the Shadowlands,” said Nadia, “and there’s a band of anthrophages or a pack of wraithwolves or something worse waiting for him.” That cold, mad look came into her eyes for just a moment. Nadia loathed the creatures of the Shadowlands with an intensity that was almost manic.
“I doubt he cares,” said Caina. “He’ll have at least some of his soldiers with him, and Navarre seems like the sort of man who will happily sacrifice his soldiers so long as he has his weapon and can escape.”
Martin rubbed his jaw again. “That makes sense. Though I don’t know how we can use it.”
“I do,” said Caina.
Nadia blinked. “You’ve got a clever plan?”
“Maybe,” said Caina. “I say we go with General Dorius’s plan. You Cloak us again, we sneak back into the mansion, and we find this weapon Navarre wants and steal it before he does.”
Martin and Nadia stared at her for a moment.
Then Nadia began to laugh, a low, nasty sound.
“Yeah,” said Nadia. “Yeah, I like that. Let’s screw him over and screw him over hard.”
“Your friend has a vicious streak,” observed Martin.
“Hey,” said Nadia. “This is me when I'm nice. I’m much worse when I’m not.” Her face hardened. “And that asshole Navarre killed a family of four to inspire the rest of his hostages to behave, and God knows how many other people with his bombs. He deserves everything that I’m going to do him.”
And part of the reason that Nadia wanted to return to the mansion, Caina knew, was to find Riordan. But Caina kept silent. She was going to need Nadia’s help to pull this off, and Nadia’s motivations didn’t matter.
“If we take the weapon,” said Caina, “maybe we get Navarre and his men to chase us. That will get them away from the hostages. Then your men and the men-at-arms can deal with the remaining Rebels and the hostages.”
“If we’re going to do this,” said Nadia, “we’d better get moving. Ninety minutes until Lord Mythrender shows up, and when he does, he’s not going to want to wait around.”
Caina agreed. “Let’s go.”
***
Chapter 6: Creatures
Before we left, Martin insisted that we take some equipment.
He gave us both armor vests. That was probably a wise precaution, though I have to admit it looked odd combined with my dress and shoes. But while my dress and shoes were nice, they wouldn’t stop bullets, and the armor vest would. I was more impressed that Martin had an armor vest that actually fit me. Riordan had given me ballistic armor as an engagement present, and he had custom-ordered it.
Riordan…
If he was hurt, God, if he had been killed, I was going to make Navarre and every single one of his men pay. I had spent a century and a half killing creatures in the Eternity Crucible. I could spend an evening exterminating Navarre and his goons.
Martin also gave us each a radio, with a belt unit and a speaker clipped to the shoulders of our vests. If we could destroy Navarre’s radio jammer or move out of range of it, we could use the radios to call directly to him.
With that, I took Caina’s hand again, cast the Cloak spell, and we headed across the lawn for the ma
nsion. We circled around the building, came to the truck port, and climbed into the dock. Nothing had changed in our absence. The Rebels still stood with their pallet jacks and their AK-47s. They had the look of men who were waiting for something.
“Goddamn it,” snarled one of the Rebels. “What the hell is taking those idiots so long?” He was a lean, vicious-looking man with a hard slash of a mouth and thick black hair.
I glanced back at Caina, mouthed the word “wait”, and she nodded in answer.
“They’re having trouble cutting through the vault door,” said another Rebel. “It’s thicker than they thought.”
“Well, they’d better figure it out right now,” said the first Rebel. “We’ve got an hour at most before the Elven nobles attack, and if we’re not gone with the weapon by then, we’re finished.”
“Should we tell Navarre?” said the second Rebel.
The first Rebel hesitated and then shook his head. “No. He needs to keep an eye on the hostages. I’ll go figure out what’s going on.”
He started to turn.
“You sure you want to go alone, Bell?” said the second Rebel. “This place isn’t secure. We found that dead patrol in the admin wing of the mansion. Someone with a gun is wandering around the corridors, and Navarre’s pets haven’t found them yet.”
I smirked behind my Cloak spell. I wondered how the Rebels would react if they knew that the women who had killed their patrol stood a few yards away.
“Good point,” said the first Rebel, who I assumed was named Bell. “You just volunteered.” He raised his voice. “I’m going to go see what the hell’s taking so long at the vault. You stay here and make sure the truck is ready to go. Hugh, with me.” The second Rebel fell in after Bell, and I tugged on Caina’s hand and followed them.
There was a large freight elevator on the other side of the truck dock, the kind with a metal cage for a door. I supposed the Baron’s staff used it to haul quantities of supplies to the other floors of the mansion. It let me and Caina follow Bell and Hugh with ample room to spare. I led Caina into a corner, and Hugh slid the elevator door shut with a clang.
Bell reached for the controls with a screwdriver. I wondered what he was doing, and I watched as he opened a panel beneath the buttons, revealing another set of controls.
A secret control panel for the elevator?
Just what had Kaldmask been hiding here?
Bell hit the button, and the freight elevator descended. According to the main panel, the mansion had three levels of basements. We passed B1, B2, and then B3, which should have been the final level. But the elevator kept descending, and a light flared to life on the secret panel that Bell had opened.
The elevator came to a stop with a buzz, and Bell slid the cage door open.
There was a wide corridor of gray concrete before us, lit only by light bulbs in metal cages every few yards along the ceiling. Bell and Hugh started forward, and I tugged on Caina’s hand, and we followed, still wrapped in my Cloak spell. I was starting to get a headache from the effort of holding the Cloak spell and sweat was slithering down my neck and back from the strain. But I could hold the spell for a while more without rest, and we followed the two Rebels.
The corridor ended in a large room that looked like a combination of a warehouse and a trophy room. There were several locked cases of glass and steel that held old paintings and coins. A few statues of white marble stood in the corner, shaped like men in elaborate cuirasses or naked women. I had stolen enough artwork for Morvilind over the years to recognize that the statues were either Greek originals or Roman copies. One display case held pieces of what I thought was damaged dwarven battle armor. Still another case contained what looked like old books. I glanced over the titles, wondering if Kaldmask had copies of forbidden books like the Summoning Codex or the Void Codex of the Dark Ones, but the volumes looked like first editions of Charles Dickens and J.R.R. Tolkien and other old pre-Conquest authors, the sort of books collectors liked. On the left wall and the right wall were corridors that vanished into the gloom. It seemed that Kaldmask had an entire secret complex down here.
The most interesting thing was the massive vault door at the far end of the room.
It was an impressive vault door. My time as Morvilind’s pet thief had given me a fairly comprehensive knowledge of bank security systems, and that vault door was one of the better ones that money could buy. A team of a dozen Rebels were hard at work sawing through it. They had a high-energy plasma torch, the kind used in manufacturing armor, and were slicing through the door’s hinges. Once they had sawed through the hinges, they had a pair of electromagnets affixed to the door, and they would pull the door out of its frame. When it landed, it would make a loud enough noise to cause permanent hearing damage to anyone in the trophy room, assuming they hadn’t brought earplugs.
It seemed likely that Kaldmask’s weapon, whatever it was, waited behind that door. But what was it? Why did they need a bunch of pallet jacks to move it? I could think of a bunch of heavy armaments that needed pallet jacks or even forklifts to move, but a magical weapon?
“Goddamn it!” said Bell, striding forward. “What the hell is taking so long? You’re behind schedule.”
One of the Rebels glared at him, sweat streaming down his face from the plasma torch’s heat. “It will take as long as it takes. The door has four hinges, and we’re through three of them. Once we’ve got that damned door out of the way, we can get the pallets loaded onto the truck and get the hell out of here.”
“Hurry it up,” said Bell. “If we’re still down here when Duke Mythrender arrives, we’re screwed. They’ll blow up the entire mansion.”
They continued arguing, but the men with the torch kept at their work. Another few minutes, I thought, and they would saw through the last hinge. Then another minute or two to use the electromagnets to pull out the door, and they would enter the vault.
An idea came to me.
I tugged on Caina’s hand and led her into the corridor on the left. There were more doors on the wall, and I picked one at random and swung it open. We stepped into the room, and Caina closed the door behind us, and…
“Dear God,” I said, dropping my Cloak spell.
We had stepped into Kaldmask’s private bedroom.
A massive bed covered in red sheets dominated the center of the room. Enormous paintings covered the walls, and every single one showed naked Elves engaged in orgies, some of them in configurations that would have required breaking a hip joint or two. Twin lamps on either side of the bed were shaped like naked Elven women. On the wall over the bed was a portrait of Kaldmask himself, stark naked, one foot resting upon a boulder while he stared commandingly into the room. Two Elven women had coiled themselves around his legs, gazing up at him with rapt adoration.
The ceiling was, of course, mirrored.
“Oh dear God,” said Caina, looking around. “I do think that’s quite the most tasteless thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“I have enough bad memories in my head,” I said. “I really didn’t need these. But, anyway. I have an idea.”
“What is it?” said Caina.
“We’ll wait until they get that vault door open,” I said. “When the Rebels pull it down, we’ll Cloak and attack.”
“Can we take them?” said Caina.
“Oh, yes,” I said. “They don’t have a Seal of Unmasking. I could Cloak and shoot them in the head one by one. Or if you stay behind me, I can cast the Shield spell and hit them with fire and lightning while you shoot them.”
Caina hesitated. “I think we should wait.”
I frowned. “Why? If we take the weapon, Navarre has no reason to stay here.”
“If we take the weapon,” said Caina, “Navarre gets desperate. Then he really has a reason to start shooting the hostages. Right now, they’re just a distraction. But if we back him into a corner, he might start shooting them. I think we should wait until the weapon is loaded on the truck, and then we should steal the tr
uck.”
“Okay, I like the idea of stealing the truck,” I said, “but why?”
“Because then we draw Navarre away from the hostages,” said Caina. “We can make him chase us.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, that's a good idea.”
“You can’t sneak up on Navarre and kill him so long as he has that active Seal Stone,” said Caina. “If we kill all his men and keep them from getting into the vault, God only knows what Navarre will do then. But if we wait until they load the weapon on the truck, and then kill his men and steal his truck, we can force his attention onto us.”
“And you still have that radio we took from the Rebels,” I said, pointing at Caina’s belt. “You can taunt him into following us.”
“Actually,” said Caina, “I think I’ll leave that to you…”
I grinned. “Because I’m better at being insulting?”
“Well,” said Caina. “I was going to say that Navarre must be at least somewhat familiar with you. Based on what you’ve said, you spent a lot of time disrupting the Rebel logistics before New York…and he probably knows that you’re the one who killed Connor and threw the Sky Hammer into Venomhold. If he realizes that you’re here, he might panic and come after us at once. And depending on how he felt about Connor, he might want vengeance on you. You almost certainly killed a lot of his friends.”
I nodded. “That’s a good point.”
“Also, yes, I agree with you,” said Caina. “You are much better at being insulting than I am. You have something of a talent for it, I’m afraid.”
“We all have our gifts,” I said. “All right. Let’s wait until they get the vault door open. Then I’ll Cloak us, and we can see what they pull out of it.”
“I just hope we don’t miss it,” said Caina.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said. “That vault door weighs a ton. Like, literally. When that hits the concrete floor, we’re going to hear it.”
We waited. Waiting in Kaldmask’s weird perverted playroom was one of the stranger experiences of my life. My ankles ached from my shoes, and I would have liked to sit down, but there was no way I was touching anything in here, not without scrubbing my hand with bleach after. Caina waited in silence, though she passed the time by checking and rechecking her pistol and rifle.
Cloak & Ghost: Rebel Cell Page 8