***
Location Earth / Beth Kurwoski:
“Staff Sergeant Walker, I understand this is an unusual request, but I need those local nationals escorted to the AMC Departure Terminal immediately.” Looking around the cabin covertly Beth tried to ignore the aggravated looks they were getting from the flight crew who’s C-17 they’d just hijacked as Agent Moss argued with the Ramstein Airbase’s local security force desk Sergeant. She could clearly hear the annoyed airman’s reply on the speaker phone.
“Sir, as I’ve previously stated, without proper authorization I cannot allow unauthorized personnel access to this facilities, especially armed local nationals, Sir.”
Rolling his eyes in frustration Agent Moss forcibly kept his voice calm. “Staff Sergeant Walker, who is your Commanding Officer?”
“Sir, Lieutenant Colonel Troy Austin is the 86th Security Forces Squadron’s Commander, but he’s already left for the evening. You can speak with the Watch Officer, First Lieutenant Spencer, but she’s going to tell you the same thing I’ve already told you, Sir.”
Waving his hand for her cell phone, Agent Moss growled into the phone as soon as Beth handed it over. “Hold for a moment.” Cradling the receiver in his neck, Ryan quickly typed in the Special Activities Division on-call desk. “Code Alpha Tango Foxtrot Zulu three five one.”
A crisp clear voice answered immediately. “Code confirmed, how can I assist you, Agent Moss?”
“I need the Ramstein Airbase Commander to have his subordinate, Lieutenant Colonel Austin, directed to have Staff Sergeant Walker escort my four local assets immediately to the AMC terminal for Operation Crater.”
“One moment, Sir.”
After a short pause, the operator came back online. “Agent Moss, Brigadier General Thomas said that he’s personally taking care of the situation and to give Mrs. Strafford his regards. Your assets will be delivered within ten minutes to the flight line. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”
“No that will be all.” CLICK, Ryan gave her cell phone back without a word. A minute later there was a loud clatter from the speaker phone as tense voices spoke hurriedly in the background. The ruckus ended with the slamming of a door as a female voice suddenly spoke into the receiver.
“Sir, First Lieutenant Spencer. I’m sorry for any confusion by my subordinate. Staff Sergeant Walker is on the way and will have your assets delivered to the terminal in five minutes. Is there anything more I can do to assist you at this time, Sir?”
“No, Lieutenant that will be all. I appreciate your assistance in expediting this matter. I will await Staff Sergeant Walker’s arrival on the flight line. Please have him deliver my assets to the C-17 at terminal one. ” Without waiting for her reply, Agent Moss hung up the phone. Turning around with a knowing smile, he addressed the Flight Chief standing next to them as the airman’s eyes bulged in his sockets. “Chief, tell the pilot to be ready for takeoff in ten minutes.”
“Sir, yes Sir!”
With a questioning look after the airman, Beth followed Ryan out of the plane. As soon as they reached the bottom of the boarding ramp, Beth leaned into him to be heard over the C-17’s engines that suddenly roared to life. “Who are we picking up? I thought it was just going to be the two of us working with the Marine Raiders from Sixth Fleet.”
“Obviously, you haven’t spent any time in the field with a group of combat Marines. Orders aside, we’ll be needing more than just the two of us to deal with just the testosterone levels alone.”
“I know how to handle myself, Ryan. You don’t make detective on the Force without knowing how to deal with that kind of shit on a daily basis.”
Looking away thoughtfully, a wry smile turned up the corners of Ryan’s lips as his eyes studied the heavy military transport plane’s top-mounted raked-back wings. “It’s the same with every combat team that I’ve ever worked with. The fight to see who has the biggest cock.”
Meeting her eyes once again, Ryan continued talking. “Director Strafford asked if I could make some inroads into the Europe and Asian Ukkodian communities for future projects, and Susan has been hinting that there’s been a lot of interest from both groups in meeting you and the rest of the U.S. Branch.” Seeing her eyebrows rise at the term ‘U.S. Branch’, Ryan held up his hands defensively. “Hey, it’s better than Team U.S.A., which is what Herr Krüger called us when we first talked.”
“You’ve already talked to the European Ukkodians? When the hell did you have the time to do that?”
Beth smiled to herself as Ryan visibly grimaced. “Look, I spoke to him while you slept on the way over.”
“And you couldn’t have told me when I woke up?”
“Hey, I’m telling you now. Not that there’s much anything to tell really. Krüger said he would see what he could get together at such short notice.”
Before Beth could say more three military police Humvees raced onto the tarmac. Within moments the small convoy pulled to a stop at the foot of the ramp. Stepping out of the lead Humvee, Staff Sergeant Walker snapped to attention with a salute.
“Sir, your assets as ordered, Sir!”
Stepping forward Ryan took the lead as Beth watched four men in black fatigues and modern combat armor exit the middle Humvee. Similar to their own uniforms, each of the men had a sword strapped to their back and a pistol riding at their waist. The leader was a broad-shouldered older man with a shiny bald head that looked to be at least in his late forties, while the three muscular blonde youths that towered behind him had to be in their early twenties. They all exuded an air of capable confidence as they took up a position next to the Staff Sergeant who eyed them nervously.
“At-ease, Staff Sergeant.”
“Sir, if I could just get your signature on the release forms I’ll leave these men in your care.” As soon as the Humvees took off Ryan held out his hand to the older man. “Herr Krüger?”
"Jawohl!" Beth had to hold back a laugh at the harsh guttural German accent that was at odds with the broad smile that stretch across the German man’s weathered face. “Call me Klaus.” With a click of his heels he gave them each a half bow before offering his hand. “Herr Moss, Damen Kurwoski.”
Beth took the swarthy hand smiling. “Beth will do just fine.” The reverence in the man’s two-handed clasp made her somewhat uncomfortable before he stepped back to next to the other men.
“If you’d allow me to introduce my Polish colleagues.” Starting off with the nearest youth standing next to him, “I’d like to introduce you to Kai Yurek, Janusz Lipowski, and Ivan Bartkowski.”
As the three men quickly stepped forward for their introductions, Beth would have sworn they were all brothers if not for the obvious different last names. Chiseled faces, sky-blue eyes, blonde Euro-styled hair and muscular whip-cord frames, they could just as easily filled the role of runway models. When Ivan stepped back, Klaus continued talking.
“I afraid there wasn’t much time to get more people organized within the time constraints of your mission, but I’ve already heard back from those that were close enough to meet up in time for the flights to Santorini. Two of the Italians leaders have agreed to join us in Naples, and eight Maniots Greeks are driving up from Kalamata to meet us at the NATO Forward Operating Base in Aktion. We can pick them up and refuel for the last leg of the flight. With you and the lady that puts us at sixteen altogether.” Klaus’ boisterous voice and grin was catching as his glinting eyes swept over their small group. “I’m sure we’ll be more than enough to handle any unexpected surprises that might come up.”
“Excellent.” Before Ryan could say more, a voice called out behind them.
“Agent Moss, the Captain say’s you’ll have to have your people load up now if you want to make the takeoff window the tower has available for us.”
Giving the Flight Chief a thumbs up, Ryan started for the loading ramp calling out over his shoulder. “You heard the man, let’s load up!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Locat
ion Irlendria / Tiberius Decius Lupus:
Tiberius pitched backward as a large black shadow soared past him in the flick of an eye. For a second, he almost lost control of his hazardous sliding decent as his eyes nervously followed the Nightclaw’s sleek form. With a hunter’s grace, the beast caught itself on a ledge further down the slope. Corded muscles rippled effortlessly as it silently disappeared below leaving him and his bulls behind with a flick of its long tail.
Nightclaws were the single most dangerous natural predators of the Great Forest. They were solo hunters that weighed anywhere between four hundred to five hundred pounds, ranging from six to six and a half feet high at their crown and seven to eight feet in length. Armed with eight-inch fangs and half-foot long claws, they could kill an unarmored bull with one bite of their powerful jaws.
Watching the beast go Tiberius breathed a sigh of relief. Even with his lorica segmentata armor and Wolf Gauntlets, he wouldn’t have wanted to face one of the dangerous beasts alone. Nightclaws typically kept to their large territories except during mating season, which was still far off. Seeing another one of the beasts so soon could only mean that was the same hunter they’d passed earlier. Eyes narrowing thoughtfully, Tiberius considered the implications. Why would the beast have left a fresh kill behind uneaten?
Jamming his gladius down Tiberius leaned sharply to the side as rocks and dirt shot away from his hooves to slide past another tree. Quickly, he regained his precarious balance before crashing through more of the thick underbrush that clung to the side of the mountain. Behind him came the sounds of his bulls struggling to keep up as he saw one of them go down in his peripheral vision. Grimly looking away, Tiberius kept focused on his own descent. The trick wasn’t to fight the momentum, but to move along with it.
The Tuonellian Hulk and the creatures that followed it had descended the slope on all fours, moving similarly to the Nightclaw. It didn’t matter how much they looked like legionnaires; no Minotaur had ever moved like that. Breaking back into the open Tiberius saw the slope ahead of him suddenly drop away. Scanning further ahead, he saw the ground leveled out about twenty-five feet below. Timing his approach Tiberius flexed his knees leaping at the last instant. Activating his second gladius, Tiberius spread his arms wide as he flew through the air. Gauging his landing, he smoothly sank to his knees slamming his fists into the ground ahead of him.
Instantly Tiberius came to a bone jarring stop as legionnaires began hitting the ground with metallic clangs to either side of him. Cornisus was the first bull to join him. The Decanus landed lightly on his hooves just as Legionnaire Cato came crashing to the ground with a belly whopping flop in front of them. A second later there were two more loud metallic twangs as Legionnaires Aulus and Opiter came to a stop on either side of Cato. Freezing in place, they listened for any cries of alarm. Tiberius’ heart thudded loudly in his ears for several long moments. Hearing nothing, he gave the signal to form up.
Immediately the two males retracted their blades to help their battle-brother to his hooves as Cornisus moved to Tiberius’ side. Quickly they formed up into a tight battle line with Tiberius in the lead as their ears pricked forward at the sudden sounds of combat coming from farther ahead within the thick smoky haze. Hearing nothing close by Tiberius silently signaled his bulls.
For a moment the clanking sounds of gauntlets reforming rang out hollowly around them, drowning out any other sounds until the transformation was complete. Hearing no change in the sounds of combat ahead of them, Tiberius gave his legionnaires a visual once over before warily starting forward. Leading the way with his scuta held before him, Tiberius thought back to the first time he’d met Lúthien.
Unlike the long life spans of Elves and Klavikians, Minotaur lives were short in comparison, half that of even a Centaur’s. Typically bulls average between two hundred and fifty to three hundred years if they were very lucky, while heifers died even younger due to the strain of their numerous childbirths.
Tiberius had met Lúthien when he was a young bull of twenty-four years, while leading his first command in a desperate battle of survival against the Tuonellian Hordes seeking to destroy Daeron Fortress. Initially, he’d been shocked to learn that the child riding happily between his horns had just turned sixty-one years old, but that surprise had been quickly replaced by one of wonder.
Normally his people had difficulties understanding the mentality and driving forces of the longer lived races. Before the Tuonellian invasion, Minotaur and Elves had coexisted with little problems. True, a few Emperors in the Imperium’s past had sought to take control of the resources within the Great Forest, but the Elves had fought back every intrusion into their domain with a level of skill that had garnered respect for their fighting abilities within the Imperium. While this was ancient history to his people, for the Elves those invasion were still fresh in the minds of all but the youngest generations, which had initially caused serious problems during the formation of the Alliance. Tiberius’ Legions defense of the Elven Homeland during Battle of Daeron Fortress had initially gone a long way to improving the Imperium’s relations with the reclusive forest dwellers, but the deep-seated mistrust the Elves held for his short-lived kind was always just under the surface whenever they met.
The only time Tiberius had truly felt free of that prejudice was with Lúthien. From the moment his eyes first saw her, Tiberius had been amazed at her alien beauty. Lithe, exciting, and full of life, she was nothing like the heifers of his people. Silver sparkling hair surrounded her glowing, vibrant face, and stormy gray eyes while her sweet sparkling laughter was like music to his ears. He had been infatuated with the young princess the same as she’d been with him.
While the freedom Elven culture gave to their female left many of his older and more traditionally minded males somewhat uncomfortable, younger bulls like Tiberius found their capable nature exotically attractive. True, Elven females did have the flattened face of their kind and lacked the small curved horns of heifers. Even more unsettling, they didn’t have a decent coat of fur, but instead were smooth skinned. Still, there was something incredibly alluring about the strong-willed females. Maybe it was a taste of the forbidden, but no matter which side of the pasture a bull stood on the topic, there was plenty of speculation on the skills of the Elven females in the pen. Although, Tiberius did find Lúthien’s nature a refreshing change to the females of his own kind. Contrary to some of the jealous rumors that had spread throughout the camp, their relationship was not of a sexual nature.
Unfortunately, no matter how much Tiberius might have wished it were otherwise, she only thought of him as an older brother. Still if that were as much of her that he could have, he wouldn’t complain. Their friendship meant that much to him.
Smelling the stench of burning flesh, Tiberius held his gladius up signaling his bulls to slow their advance. Moving warily into the clearing ahead of them, he saw the bloody form of the Nightclaw that had passed them by earlier. Around the great hunter were the strewn remains of many dead legionnaires.
Tiberius’ nostrils flared as the hackles of his mane stood on end. There was something wrong with the scent of blood. Confused he continued forward scanning for any signs of Lúthien when there was a wounded cry of agony ahead of him in the smoke. He hadn’t taken three steps when he heard the guttural speech of a Tuonellian.
“Your race is nothing more than beasts, herd animals for the Master Race’s consumption.”
Rushing forward, Tiberius felt the blood pumping through his veins begin burning like fire as his vision turned red. He couldn’t make out the words in the pain filled response, but as the bank of the Otso River came into view. He saw the Hulk’s clawed fist backhand a small Wild Elf to the ground. Further away was the outline of his precious Lúthien. Her delicate ivory skin covered in blood as she gasped for breath futilely trying to hold her gaping bowels closed.
“For the Imperium!” Tiberius bellowed out his war cry as the berserker rage took hol
d of him. Charging forward, he punched his gladius through the creatures blocking his path in mindless fury. Around him, Tiberius’ bulls drove into the legionnaires ahead of them before the creatures could react. Their first blows catching the enemy by surprise as they attacked from the rear. Tinnearlian blades flashed in deadly arcs as the first line of legionnaires hit the ground dead at their hooves when suddenly everything happened at once.
The screeching cry that rang out was confirmation of Tiberius’ growing fear that these weren’t the same mindless legionnaires they had faced earlier in the capital, but something else entirely different. No matter what they looked like, they were not Minotaurs. Spinning around on all fours, the creatures sprang at their attackers in a feral wave. Clambering over the legionnaires shield walls within seconds, they slashed at the Minotaurs with their long, razor-sharp claws in savage fury.
Still charging forward, Tiberius drove the edge of his scuta into the creatures before him like a scythe as his gladius swung in deadly arcs. Bloody limbs flew through the air as he fought to reach the hated Tuonellian before him when he suddenly realized he wasn’t going to make it. Slowly Tiberius staggering to a stop as more and more of the creatures piled on top of him. Several clung to his armored back while even more held onto his arms and legs. Looking around the battlefield, he saw his bulls being overwhelmed one by one.
In spite of the berserker fury coursing through him, he was slowly being dragged to the ground. Thrusting his gladius repeatedly into the creatures attacking him, Tiberius watched in vain as the Hulk disappeared from view as still more and more of the creatures piled on top of him. Landing heavily on his back, Tiberius tucked his shield in close to his chest as he fought for his life like never before. As the terrible claws began raking his body to bloody ribbons, he cried out in despair.
“Akras help us!”
***
Location Irlendria / Nessa Manitou:
Nessa’s hooves dug deep into the moss covered earth as she plunged through the Great Forest heading towards the distant sounds of combat. Mindless of any thoughts for her own safety, she crashed through the thick underbrush before her without hesitation as tree branches snapped from the force of her passing. Her heaving flanks already bled with numerous wounds from the headlong flight, but still she refused to slow down. In her heart knew the scream had to have come from Enelya’s lips. Picturing the Wild Elf’s broken body lying dead on the ground, she drove herself even harder.
Destiny Page 24