The White Warrior

by Marilyn Donnellan

  “Yes, First Lieutenant Wann. What do you suggest?”

  “Sir, it seems to me we ought to consider two approaches. First, I’m guessing San Antonio is the closest refueling station for jets. So, how about we take a group of rebel fighters to damage the airport to keep them from landing, and then we destroy their fuel source? Secondly, rather than trying to defeat jets too fast for our guns, maybe we can simply blend in with the empire’s forces with some spies. Any damage they plan to do to us we know about early enough to counteract it.”

  Silence settled over the troops for a few minutes as they mulled the two suggestions. Voices began to murmur, both for and against. Juan let the discussion go on for a few minutes and then asked, “Any other suggestions?”

  No one had any additional suggestions, so he concluded by saying, “Okay, great ideas. Now hit your bunks. We have another big day tomorrow. First Lieutenant Wann, see me before you retire.”

  The lieutenant made her way to Juan’s side and waited until everyone else departed. He motioned for her to sit on a rock next to him.

  “Great ideas, Wann,” he began, “You are thinking exactly along the same lines I was. But I’d like to hear more about your ideas for blending in with the empire’s forces.”

  Pausing for a moment, the first lieutenant gathered her thoughts.

  “Well, sir, we need some uniforms to match the empire’s marine’s, so we can infiltrate their ranks. And I know that’s against military code to impersonate the enemy. However, given tactics the enemy is using against us, I really don’t believe it applies here. Too many lives are being lost and we must do something more than just ride around on our motorcycles in the desert.”

  Juan sat back with his arms across his chest, head down, thinking. Wann wisely kept quiet.

  “Okay, let me ask you this. If you were in my shoes, which of your two suggestions is most important?”

  “Sir, I think both are important. We send a contingent of rebels into San Antonio, disguised as peasants to blow up the runway and fuel source at Ft. Sam Houston. And, we send rebels to infiltrate enemy camps in Boston City, Chicago City and Austin City. We use BL codes to communicate, plus some type of distinguishing mark on empire uniforms so we recognize each other. It just seems to me it’s better than spinning our wheels here in the desert (no pun intended, sir), waiting for the empire’s jets to bomb us.”

  “Okay, Wann. I’m going to give these excellent suggestions some consideration. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll want your help to execute them. Now, go rest.”

  He stood up and so did the lieutenant, who saluted him, turned smartly and headed for her cot. Before he turned in for the night, he decided he needed to talk to his dad tomorrow for his advice. But he knew, thanks to the first lieutenant, he had some new directions to help move the rebels forward.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Recovery and Revenge

  Allison was strolling through the beautiful greenhouse at the back of the Anton estate, when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and heard the voice she longed to hear for the past two months.

  “Allison, my darling.”

  It was Marco. She ran into his arms. As his eager lips touched hers fires of passion swept through her body, fires too long dampened by absence and the horrors of prison. Now she was better, emotionally and physically, she allowed herself to feel everything she denied so long. Marco’s hard body responded to hers. Time seemed to stand still. They finally came up for a breath of air. She looked at him and saw reflected in his eyes the love she felt. She caught her breath in awe that this wonderful man was finally here; hopefully nothing more could keep them apart now. Neither one of them wanted an inch of space between them, but the clearing of a voice behind them broke the enchantment: Papa Marco. He smiled indulgently.

  “Sorry to break up your reunion, but there is much to discuss before you have all the time together you want. Meet me in my study in five minutes.”

  Reluctantly, they turned and moved toward the entrance, Marco taking a few minutes to pull himself back together.

  “Why, Marco, I do believe you are blushing,” Allison said giggling.

  “It’s all your fault, you minx,” Marco said. “But just you wait until I get you alone. I’ll make you blush, too!”

  Allison laughed and ran toward the study. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

  Brogan caught sight of Marco as she came down the foyer steps.

  “Well look what the cat just dragged in!” she said with enthusiasm as she ran down the rest of the steps and gave Marco a hug. “You are a sight for sore eyes!”

  The trio went arm and arm into the study, where Papa Marco and Maria waited.

  “Sit,” Papa Marco said. “There isn’t much time.”

  The three looked at each other in alarm at the grave tone in his voice.

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but my sources in Chicago City just sent me an encrypted message saying the emperor has decided to send a contingent of soldiers to occupy our estate. Apparently one of our servants informed him I harbored some fugitives and it was all the excuse he needed. Because we are in the middle of a major blizzard right now, he’s going to have a problem getting any soldiers out here until it clears, giving us some time. I’ve been prepared for something like this for a long time. As soon as it clears, Maria and I will leave by helo-synergy jet to our hidden resort in Central America. I’ve arranged for the three of you to escape to Canada by way of a special submarine via Lake Michigan.”

  The trio looked at each other in shock. As far as they knew there was no way to get to Canada.

  “Now, go to your room, ladies. You will find laid out for each of you, special temperature-adjusting jumpsuits. Marco, there is one in your room, too. There are also heavy winter parkas, gloves and boots. Everything you will need is in the pockets: visas, money, etc. Now go. I want you ready to go as soon as there is the first sign of a break in weather.”

  Before they left the room, Allison and Brogan let Papa Marco and Maria know how much they appreciated their care and attention for the past two months.

  “You can show us how much you appreciate it by getting out of here safely. Now go, before it is too late.”

  Allison had tears in her eyes as they said their goodbyes, not knowing when they might be together again. Brogan was stoic but expressed her appreciation. As Marco started to leave, his father pulled him aside.

  “Marco, I’m sorry we haven’t had any time to talk, but I just want you to know how proud I am of you and your work with Book Liberators. Regardless of what happens, I am glad to call you my son. And your mother and I love Allison. You take good care of her, okay?”

  Marco saw tears in his father’s eyes, a rare sight. His father was a fighter and he hoped with every fiber of his being this would not be the last time he saw his parents, but if it was, it meant a lot to hear those words from his dad. He gave his mother and father hugs, straightened his shoulders and went to prepare for whatever lay ahead. He ran up the stairs to his room, resolved to do everything to protect Allison and Brogan and continue the fight against the emperor.

  Meanwhile, Allison and Brogan quickly donned white jumpsuits, which fit perfectly. Allison looked over at Brogan as she zipped up her suit.

  “My God, Brogan! Look at yourself in that suit!”

  Brogan strode over to a full-length mirror. During the past two months of eating good Italian food, she filled in. Although still thin, at least she now had some feminine curves back. Her hair, now totally white, was cut into a shapely bob skimming her sharp cheekbones. Her brilliant green eyes were even more prominent against the white outfit.

  “I’m going to start calling you the White Warrior,” Allison said in awe. “You look like some ancient princess ready to fight the forces of evil.”

  Brogan snorted derisively, “Oh, come on, Allison. It’s just an outfit. Don’t make more of it than it is.”

  During the past two months both women spent a lot of time in the workou
t gymnasium in the estate’s basement, gaining back strength and muscle lost during their imprisonment. Brogan turned away from the mirror, taking a minute to look through the pockets of the jumpsuit and parka lying on the bed. There appeared to be an entire survival kit; everything from packets of water to a laser pistol.

  “Papa Marco thought of everything,” Brogan said admiringly. “I’m ready. How about you?”

  Allison finished looking through her pockets. Brogan’s pockets contained survival and defensive equipment, while Allison’s also included medical supplies. But she turned and carefully added a special package from the bureau drawer. Brogan knew what the package contained.

  “Yep, I’m ready. Let’s go see if Marco’s ready. By the way, did you catch what Papa Marco said about Canada? What is he talking about?”

  “I don’t know. But I think we are about to find out.”

  They pulled on white snow boots and gloves, grabbed the white parkas and headed down the stairs. Marco met them at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Wow!” He said, his eyes wide, “You ladies look fantastic!”

  “You don’t look so bad yourself,” Allison teased. “Even though you do kind of look like a giant snowball.”

  “Hey!” Marco pouted, “I think I look pretty good.”

  Before they could reply, red lights began to pulse outside and inside the building. Papa Marco and Maria rushed into the room.

  “Quick, this way. Enemy soldiers arrived quicker than expected. Robots will hold them off for a while. There is a let up in the storm, which means we must leave now. There is no time to lose.”

  Papa Marco pushed a hidden release and a door opened under the grand staircase. The five of them hurried through a well-constructed and well-lit tunnel Brogan guessed went probably a half a mile north of the estate. The door of the tunnel silently closed and locked behind them. As they walked, led by a security robot, Papa Marco told them the house was rigged with a series of traps to be triggered if soldiers tried to enter. Although the traps might not destroy the house, they would make it very difficult for anyone to make it inside and give them time to escape. The security robots would engage the enemy all around the mansion.

  At the end of the tunnel, the security robot split apart into two robots. The larger of the two robots led Papa Marco and Maria to the helo-synergy jet warming up on a small runway, it’s lights out. The smaller robot led the three younger fugitives down an embankment to the edge of Lake Michigan where they saw a dark shape bobbing quietly in the waves and apparently tied up at large dock. It was too dark to tell how big the vessel was or even its exact shape.

  As they approached, a hatch on the top opened and a rope ladder slid down the side. The robot directed them up the ladder. Despite their warm clothing, the wind blowing off the lake created a cold spray feeling like needles on their faces. Allison went first, her fingers already starting to stiffen from the cold, even with the heavy gloves. Clambering up the ladder as it tried to blow away in the stiffening breeze was not easy. Brogan quickly followed, trailed by Marco.

  Immediately after Marco stumbled down the hatch, a man in a black uniform locked it without saying a word. He motioned them forward. As they followed him, they heard a hum and the vessel moved away from the dock, followed by a hiss and the sound of a scrape on the outside and then everything was silent. They could feel movement by the slight sway under their feet.

  Lights began to come on above their heads as they moved forward. Even though the area seemed cramped at first, it opened into a space about the size of small bedroom, probably twelve-feet square. The entire front of the vessel appeared to be made of some type of glass. In front of the glass sat a bewildering array of instruments. Sitting in front of the instruments, with her back to them was a woman in a crisp white uniform. She punched a few buttons and turned around.

  “Welcome aboard. I’m Captain Margaret Shoemacker, Canadian Royal Fleet.”

  The three fugitives stood for a moment, trying to absorb the shock of what they were experiencing. This was the first time any of them had ever met, seen or heard about anyone from a country outside America. They had been told all their lives every country outside of America reverted to barbarism, but now they were meeting someone piloting a futuristic ship which certainly did not fit that description at all.

  The captain, who appeared to be middle aged, calmly looked at them, giving them time to absorb what they heard. She turned, pushed a button and said, “Lieutenant Geoffrey, will you please escort our guests to their quarters?” She turned back to them.

  “I’m going to give you some time to settle in. I’ll meet you in the dining area and answer your questions. Sound okay?”

  Trying to assimilate the unusual situation, they simply nodded in agreement. But as the three started to leave, Brogan stopped and turned back to the captain.

  “I’m sorry, captain, but I must go back. Any chance you can return to the dock? I can’t go with you.” She turned to Allison and Marco. “I’m asking the two of you to go with the captain. Find out what you can about the state of things in Canada and whether there is any possibility anyone there is willing to support the rebels to overthrown Priest. I just can’t leave. I have to stay and fight.”

  “But, Brogan,” Marco started to say.

  “No, you cannot talk me out of this. Bryan and Janice sacrificed their lives for the cause. I cannot leave. We need to look outside America for resources to help in our fight, but that is something the two of you can do.” She turned back to the captain. “Can you let me off without jeopardizing everyone on board, captain?”

  The captain turned and looked at the screens in front of her. “There is no sign of soldiers anywhere near the dock, so I think it is safe to return,” she said calmly. “But there isn’t much time. I see heat signatures near the estate, so I’m guessing soldiers are attacking. If you are intent on staying, however, we have some items which will be of use to you. It’s Brogan Douglass, correct?”

  Brogan nodded. The captain turned to the lieutenant. “Lieutenant escort our guest to the armory. See she is outfitted with body armor and a laser pulse gun, along with several re-chargeable units for it, plus anything else she might find useful for fighting soldiers. But make it fast, there isn’t much time.”

  The lieutenant saluted smartly and beckoned Brogan to follow as he moved quickly down the hall. Allison and Marco followed. The armory was only a few doors down. Inside she saw racks of ammunition and a variety of incredible weapons. She could only image their purposes. The lieutenant handed her a bodysuit of armor and indicated a place to change.

  Brogan quickly donned a body armor that felt like a second skin, made of some type of filament molded to her body. She stepped back into her white jumpsuit, parka and boots and walked back into the armory. The lieutenant handed her a helmet made from the same filament as the body armor. He showed her a small button on the side to bring a faceplate down for night vision or enhanced daytime vision. The lieutenant told her the helmet worked the same way as an augmented eye implant, showing calibrations of distance to enemy targets. It synched with the gun he gave her so all she needed to do was “point and shoot.” He told her the gun also synched to her DNA the first time she used it so no one else could fire it. The gun was boxy and unlike anything she had ever seen before.

  “Be careful with it,” he advised her, “it has a wide array and is much more dangerous than anything you have ever used.”

  “Lieutenant,” the captain’s voice called urgently over the intercom. “We’ve run out of time. Ms. Douglass, out of the sub. NOW!”

  There was only time for a quick hug goodbye for Allison and Marco, waiting outside the armory.

  “This way, Ms. Douglass,” the lieutenant said, and guided her quickly back the way they came and up the tower ladder. The hatch opened, and a swirl of snow and wind caught her breath as Brogan hurriedly climbed up the ladder and out the tower. The sub silently pulled up to the dock and she jumped down on to the slippery deck, he
r heavy boots keeping her from falling. Without looking back, she ran off into the storm, heading directly toward flashes of light at the estate.

  As she ran toward the estate, she moved the gun into ready position and brought the faceplate down. Immediately she saw soldiers surrounding the Anton house and a firefight in full swing. Her faceplate showed only robots returning fire, which probably meant Marco’s parents and servants made their escape safely.

  Enemy soldiers’ attentions were focused on the house and they never knew what hit them from behind.

  She was shocked at what happened as soon as she pulled the trigger on the laser pulse gun. Everyone within 50-feet of where she pointed the gun was blown to smithereens. Brogan’s lethal fire from her weapon mowed them down before they could turn around. Within a few seconds she awakened from the initial shock of the results of her weapon’s devastating fire power. She methodically began to walk around the estate, looking for someone else to kill, her heart turning colder and colder as every trooper she killed was in Bryan and Janice’s name. When she realized, there was no one left to kill, she experienced a surge of disappointment. Suddenly, she heard a groan of pain near the front door of the mansion.

  Startled, she swung around. Her faceplate showed a young soldier hiding under a bush next to the stairway, his gun too far away for him to reach. Evidently one of her shots cut off his leg, cauterizing the wound but making it impossible for him to stand. With her gun at ready, she walked up to him.