Evil Triumphant

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Evil Triumphant Page 24

by Michael A. Stackpole


  The dwarf smiled as he made notes, “How many men?”

  That was a very telling question. What was left of the Japanese Imperial Defense Cadre had remained in Japan to recover. While I had no doubt the emperor would give us the men we needed, desert warfare was not their forte. I decided to leave them out of this assault and hope, if we failed fully or in part, they might be able to form the core of a resistance movement to whichever Dark Lord did win.

  “Minimum is an even hundred, max is one-fifty, with a minimum reserve of 50. This is going to be wet work. I will pay extra for anyone who can work as a gunner on a Peregrine. Make the rates and bonuses 50% higher than usual, 100% for the gunners.”

  “Are you planning a war, Coyote?”

  “Hoping to prevent one, actually.” I gnawed my lower lip for a second. “I need military-class body armor for 250 people. I want assault rifles for that many as well, with 1000 rounds of armor-piercing ammo for each. Half of that should be in clips, the rest loose. Nightvision goggles for everyone as well. I will also need four M2 heavy machineguns, one for each of two Peregrines. I want 4000 rounds of high-explosive, incendiary ammo for each of those guns. I already have techs working on installing the fire-control systems. Can you get me Sidewinder missiles?”

  Joniak pressed his lips into a flat line as he thought for a second. “Yes, but I can’t get mounting pods for your Peregrines. When Lorica bought them, they should have gone for the military version and just pulled the weapons.”

  I nodded. “I concur, but that was not my decision to make. I will need troop transports. The Peregrines will carry my advance party and 14 of the Rangers. Get me trucks enough to move the rest.”

  “Would you like some Bradleys? I can get you a half-dozen fairly cheaply.”

  I hesitated. The armored personnel carriers would give me added firepower with their TOW rockets and chain guns. On one hand, they would mean nothing in the battle with Pygmalion, but on the other, they could help hold the base against any influx of help from our side of the gates. “Okay, the reserves will use them.”

  I stepped over to the peg board. “I want 50 LAW rockets, 400 concussion grenades, 400 fragmentation grenades and 500 pounds of Semitek. I’ll be rigging that into a truck bomb, so be sure to get me some sort of vehicle that can be directed by remote control from one of the Peregrines.” I purposely made it sound like I meant to use that to get in to wherever we were going, but I really wanted it to blow the facility if we could not defeat Pygmalion.

  The dwarf shook his head. “There are Central American countries that don’t have what you’re asking me to get.”

  “Does that mean you can’t deliver?”

  Joniak shook his head confidently. “I can deliver. How soon you want it all?”

  “Two days? We go soon, the faster the better.”

  “Rush job, not a problem. I’ll just have to bring things in from the warehouse.” He looked up at me. “Is there anything else?”

  A remark he had made during my last visit popped into my brain. “You suggested tactical air support was available if we were operating outside Eclipse. Was that smoke or were you serious?”

  “Serious as death itself.” The dwarf poked his pencil at a binder full of plastic sheet protectors lying on the counter. “Check it out. If you see anything you like, let me know.”

  I flipped past pictures of a Hind helicopter and an A-10 Warthog, then stopped. As I looked up, I saw Joniak smile appreciatively. “You can get me one of these, fully loaded?”

  The dwarf nodded. “You have excellent taste. That’s my own personal bird. I’ll be flying it.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Ah, but it is.” The dwarf put down his notepad. “First of all, you now owe me about 17 million dolmarks, and I’m interested in protecting my investment. More importantly, though, I have a debt.” He gave me a smile. “And, as per terms of the contract, it’s time for me to pay forward.”

  I got some more sleep after returning to the Lorica Citadel. I did not dream this time, which was just as well, because after being in Mr. Joniak’s death emporium, I might have started having Bat’s dreams. Rested and refreshed, I showered again and put on one of my best suits before going up to meet Lilith in the Peregrine on the roof.

  With her at the controls, we took off and headed northwest out of Phoenix. She filled me in on the logistical end of the operation I had outlined to her in my dictation earlier. Everything seemed to be working on or ahead of schedule, and I made notes to brief Hal about screening our mercenaries for their ability to see things outside our dimension.

  It took just about an hour to reach our destination, and Lilith set the Peregrine down in the parking lot on the Arizona side of the Hoover Dam without so much as a bump. As she shut the craft down and set the security devices on it, I went back into the passenger compartment and hauled out a fairly heavy suitcase. Shifting it from hand to hand, we walked down to the dam and told the guard at the information booth that we had an appointment with Paul Warner, the night supervisor.

  The guard used the phone to confirm our claim, then took us down in the elevator to the offices in the heart of the dam itself. The place felt mildly claustrophobic to me, but I applauded the idea to locate offices in the middle of the dam. I felt having to work within the structure would certainly motivate the staff to report even the smallest problem, preventing a disaster that might cause the dam to collapse and kill millions downstream.

  Warner looked like a stereotypical civil servant. Not an overly large man, his black hair had thinned appreciably while his middle had thickened a bit. On his desk I saw a picture of a woman and two children, which I took to be his family. He smiled when the guard ushered us in and pointed us to two cracked-vinyl chairs. Lilith discreetly brushed dust from the chair before she sat, but I remained standing.

  The supervisor frowned when I rejected his hospitality. I lifted the case up and gently slid it onto his desk, moving the picture of his family aside. “Forgive my lack of manners, but I do not have much time. I appreciate your granting us this meeting at my assistant’s last-minute request.”

  Warner half-smiled. “Ms. Acres was quite persuasive. She said you had a business proposition you wanted to speak to me about?” He looked around his dingy office, and I could read from him an intense desire to escape his job. “What can I do for you and Lorica, Mr. Loring?”

  I tapped the case. “In here I have 10 million dolmarks in negotiable securities and Japanese government bonds.”

  “What for?”

  “You have just won the lottery, Mr. Warner. This is the first payment. You will get one per year of your life, on the anniversary of this date, or your heirs will get a grand total of 20 payments if you die before 20 years is up. Do you understand this?”

  The man blinked at me and sat down on the edge of his chair, almost tipping it over. “Jesus Christ! What do you want me to do, kill somebody?”

  “If I wanted someone dead, I’d give 50 dolmarks to some street punk and have him do the job for me.” I walked over to the huge map of northern Arizona, southern Nevada and Utah tacked to his wall. “In that case there is also a cellular phone, a very exact stopwatch, spare batteries for both and a very complete set of instructions. Within the month you will get a call on it. When that call comes in, you will execute those instructions to the letter. Do you understand that?”

  “That’s 200 million dolmarks Warner gasped and loosened his tie. “For that much you could buy this freaking dam.”

  “I don’t want to buy it, Mr. Warner, I just want to rent it, for about an hour, maybe less. When you get that call, the turbines go to full and everything goes to the Mercury grid as per the plan, got it?”

  Warner stared at the map blankly for a moment, then nodded. “Pity about them brownouts in Vegas, but what the hell. I’ve never won anything there anyway.”

  The lighter load in the Peregrine made our return trip a bit faster. When we got into Phoenix’s airspace, we were vecto
red west by Scorpion Security and almost denied permission to land at Lorica. Scorpion wouldn’t tell us what was wrong, but I switched my radio over to the local commercial stations. KTAR’s Charles Goyette was on the air reporting a massive theft of weapons, explosives and vehicles from the Arizona National Guard Armory just east of the Lorica Citadel.

  I smiled. We knew where Pygmalion was, we knew who was guarding the approaches and we knew what we’d need to get to Pygmalion. For the first time since the whole mad war against Pygmalion had been proposed, I actually began to believe we might have even the slightest chance of defeating him.

  Chapter 28

  I found Natch waiting for me in my suite at the top of the Lorica Citadel, but one look into her cerulean eyes told me that she was not my visitor. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked as a loosened my tie.

  The Empress of Diamonds forced Natch into a stiff shrug. “What I have learned leads me to believe you will be taking action soon. I would have thought you would have made things easier for me by having Natch accompany you on your preliminary operations.”

  “I thought about that, but I knew it would produce some difficulties. First and foremost, information here is handed out on a need-to-know basis and, quite frankly, she has not needed to know. If I were to draw her in, Vetha would notice and Fiddleback would become curious. Second, and just as vital, Natch has an emotional attachment to Bat and having her come back has doubtlessly improved both his disposition and increased his healing rate. I need him as much as I need her.”

  “As much as you need me?”

  I shook my head and dropped into a squarish chair with white leather upholstery. “On the power level we’re talking about, no. But in terms of the operation where you will be vital, yes and more so. Without them, getting to the point where we can destroy Pygmalion and Fiddleback is impossible.”

  She nodded uncharacteristically long for Natch. “I understand, and I do trust you, Coyote.”

  “Good.” I gave her a quick grin. “One thing — to cover a contingency plan — Crowley suggested that Fiddleback has control over a proto-dimension where he has a dead dimensional gate. He says the gate we set up in Pygmalion’s dimension will interrogate that gate, then create the link. What do you know about the dimension where he will be waiting for us?”

  Natch’s left hand toyed with the solitaire diamond in the pendant hanging at her throat. “Not much. I’ve never been there — it is too far from my power base for me to travel safely — and I have never met anyone who has and returned to talk about it. Why do you ask?”

  I smiled. “Once we learn the coordinates and bring him to Pygmalion’s dimension, I was thinking of sending a truck bomb through to blow up that dead gate. It would make sure he remained where we wanted him. I need to know if that will work, or if the physics there will scotch that plan.”

  “I wish I knew, because I think that would be a most interesting course of action. Alas, I do not.” She flipped me a brief salute. “You are most dangerous. I admire that.”

  “Thank you. Be ready and arrive promptly.” I briefly outlined what I intended we do to Fiddleback. “We don’t want to tip Fiddleback to your presence, so you must wait until Pygmalion is dead before you come in.”

  “I understand. Until then.” Natch blinked her eyes a couple of times, then staggered a bit. She looked up, surprised and concerned about finding herself in my suite. “Coyote?”

  I nodded. “You said you wanted to give me a report on Bat’s condition? How is he?”

  “I did?” She shuddered, then smiled sheepishly. “Bat’s fine. Still has stitches in him, but he’s ready to roll.”

  “Good, he has four days. We have to be ready to move then. Got it?”

  “Word up.” She gave me a haunted grin. “That will be the fight, right?”

  “The main event, Natch.” My smile slowly died as all that was at stake flashed through my mind. “The big fight — winner take all.”

  Two days later, Bronislaw Joniak called me to set up a meeting with the officers of Omega Ranger Company. We had filled our line troops and reserves, with the vast majority of the men being able to see and operate in other dimensions. Crowley noted that while the empathic skills necessary to be able to do that were rare in the human population, he had noted a propensity for the more creative and adventurous in the population to possess those talents. Even Joniak had tested out positively, so he was clear to pilot his aircraft in Pygmalion’s dimension.

  The meeting with them went well, with their tactical experience adding minor refinements to my general assault plan. After we had all signed off on it, we decided the assault would go down 48 hours later. During that time, we completed the conversions of two Lorica CV-27 Peregrines, and Joniak was able to fully arm his bird. Nero Loring got his equipment loaded up and in position for deployment.

  I faxed Watson Dodd the password routine and a copy of our battleplan that left out our air assets and the half-dozen Bradley M2s Joniak had procured from his “warehouse” at the National Guard Armory. The area around the base really left little in the way of room for defenses against a truck invasion like the one we outlined on the paper I sent him. He would be forced to gather his forces in certain areas where the natural landscape created defensible positions, and we could eliminate them very easily with either air support or a convert assault by the Rangers on the ground.

  I circumspectly questioned Sin about Rajani, her state of mind and her emotional strength. I knew she had the ability to tap into Fiddleback’s thoughts, but I also knew it was a draining and even tortuous experience for her. In many ways she was my ace in the hole because even Fiddleback did not know about her skill. With Vetha having warned me that at some point Fiddleback would betray me, I wanted Rajani along as a trip-wire to give me as much warning as was possible concerning the Dark Lord’s treachery.

  Sin reported that Rajani was doing very well and was even looking forward to striking a blow against Pygmalion and Fiddleback. I caught from him a protective attitude and just a hint of jealously at my inquiry, but that was good. Rajani needed protection in what was likely to be a lethal environment, and Sin having an emotional stake in her survival meant he would take good care of her.

  Everything looked perfect except for one detail: Vetha. I very much wanted to leave her behind in Phoenix when we went out. Her message to me had been very clear — despite what she wanted, she might betray me because of Fiddleback’s perversity. I could not afford that because the operation designed to killed Pygmalion also had to neutralize Fiddleback. If she caught even unconscious clues about that course of events, she might pass them along and Fiddleback might balk at the last minute, leaving us in Pygmalion’s dimension facing an army of Mickey clones.

  A second reason for wanting to leave her behind was her shape. The soldiers with whom we were dealing were not seasoned extra-dimensional travelers. There was no way to bring them up to speed and have them work with us under those conditions on such short notice. Because they were not stupid, they would realize she was not the sort of creature found on Earth, and that might cause problems when we did not need them.

  On the other hand, of course, leaving Vetha behind would immediately arouse Fiddleback’s suspicions. If he were wary — more so than usual — we would not get him. That concern overrode the others, resulting in an odd plan where we outfitted her in a ninja -like outfit that covered her from head to abdomen in black. While she still did not look natural, half-hidden in the shadows almost anyone could dismiss her as a hallucination.

  As I pulled on my ANPBS-9 and adjusted the nightvision device so the monocular lens jutted from my face like a unicorn’s horn, Vetha opened her mandibles and shook her head. “You are concerned by my appearances, Coyote?” In response to my invitation to talk, she entered my suite and appropriated an ottoman for her abdomen.

  I smiled at her. The nightvision goggles painted her in black with green highlights. While there was no hiding the light shining periodically from her ey
es, the dark clothes did soften her outline and made her less recognizable. The low-light reflective tabs on her shoulders marked her as one of us, which meant friendly fire would not take her out.

  “I only have a 70° arc of vision here, Vetha, so I’m not greatly concerned about how I look, but how what I look at looks. You, in this case, look fine. Just stick with Bat and Natch and you should have no problems.”

  I had split my key personnel into three groups. Crowley and I made up one lead element, with Bat, Natch and Vetha comprising the other. I purposely put the two Dark Lord agents together so they could watch each other, and I left them with Bat because he generally put out enough in the way of emotion to blind almost any empathic creature around.

  Rajani, Sinclair, Hal Garrett, Mickey, Nero Loring and Jytte made up my operations team. Rajani, in addition to what she meant in terms of Fiddleback, could help Nero Loring see in Pygmalion’s dimension. That was crucial to the plan, because Nero knew the control device he carried backward and forward. While Crowley, Jytte and Vetha had been briefed on how it worked and what had to be done to make it work — and Crowley and Vetha both carried the refurbished Powerbooks needed to drive the dimensional gate — I wanted Nero there to troubleshoot things on the fly.

  Hal and Rajani argued against bringing Mickey on the mission, but Crowley and I pressed for his inclusion and were able to make a case that brought Jytte and Sinclair over to our side. They had argued that what we would be doing would be far too violent for a 5-year-old child to take part in, much less witness. Crowley and I countered that if we kept Mickey out, he could come to regret not having done anything to avenge his father. We agreed that his role would be only defensive and give him the job of playing rough with anything that tried to get to the operations team.

  We were all outfitted similarly to the mercenaries we had hired, with assault rifles, body armor and grenades. Those of us who had personal side arms wore them, with the Wildey Wolf taking its place beneath my left arm and the Kraits riding on my right hip and at the small of my back, respectively. All totaled, my equipment weighed as much as a small child, but distributed on my combat harness and belt, it did not seem that heavy and did not restrict my movement.

 

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