by T. C. Edge
“You mean the flaming shield and mask and all that?”
“Exactly. My men are in constant contact with me and have their eyes on the entrance. If anyone we know shows their face, they’ll call it in immediately.”
“So what’s the next step?”
He takes a breath, and I see the wrinkles around his eyes deepen.
“Now, I need to get a couple of hours sleep. We’ll move out when the night has fully settled in.”
As he goes off to find a quiet place to rest, Athena takes his place. We talk for a little while in private, catching each other up on what’s been happening since I left Petram. By the sounds of it, her hunt to this point hasn’t been a resounding success. Similarly, our attempts to track the source of the recent attacks didn’t exactly go well. Now, perhaps, we both have an opportunity to right a few wrongs.
Mostly, however, she’s keen to learn how our training progressed.
“It went well,” I tell her, “until the President cut us off, that is.”
“Yes, I heard what happened from the Watchers I assigned to you. I hear Alber wanted to come and arrest me,” she says with a wry smile.
“I doubt he’d have ever seen that through,” I say. “The man’s like a petulant child. Everyone over there is so blind to what we’re facing…”
“Was so blind,” she corrects me. “I think the last day or two has opened up a few eyes. Now tell me about this Seeker you faced in New Atlantis…”
I go about describing the young man and our encounter. She listens intently, perhaps figuring out how she might match up.
“By the sounds of it, you let emotion interfere, Theo,” she says.
“That’s what mum said.”
“And she’s right. That’s what she taught me, all those years ago. Remember to stay calm in any such encounter. It’s noble to want to help people, and to get upset when you see them wronged, but it won’t aid you in battle. I’ve faced Watchers before who were too emotionally charged, and in such a state it’s easy to lose focus. Think of the most gifted Watchers…”
My mind brings up a few names. Herself. Link. Knight’s Terror. All portray a cold detachment when they fight that’s essential to reaching their potential.
She adds another name to the list.
“Augustus Knight, while I never fought or met him, was famously callous, as you well know. It doesn’t mean that you need to be cold-hearted in other facets of your life. It merely means that, during combat, you refuse to let anything impact your judgement. I can only assume that the Seeker killed the girl to draw you in and scatter your mind. And it worked well.”
“I guess there’s too much of my mum in me,” I say. “Is that what held her back from being as strong as you or Link?”
“Partially,” she says. “Your mother always had so much strength and passion, and occasionally she’d channel it in the right way. When she did, she was as strong as anyone. If she’d been building her powers like Link or myself these last twenty years, you can bet she’d be right there at the top alongside us. You, Theo, have that same potential, and so does Ajax. It’s just a matter of focus and control. Always remember that.”
She leaves me with that lesson pervading my thoughts as I return to my friends under the overhanding rocks. Beyond the canyon, the warm light of the sunset has begun to arrange itself over the lands, the sky darkening with each passing minute. To my side, Velia and Ajax remain at rest, still gathering their strength for the fight. I look at them and wonder whether we’re ready for this, whether we’re even going to find anyone down there.
Will we find what we’re looking for down there? Will more of this riddle be untangled? Or are we just walking into a trap, the Baron still one step ahead?
I guess, soon enough, those questions will be answered.
26
Attack on Titan
Dressed in my black bodysuit, with my slim-line helmet and night-vision goggles, I feel like a fully-fledged member of my father’s special forces unit. Velia, Ajax, and Cyra are dressed as I am, while Athena remains in her traditional desert battle dress along with her squad of Watchers.
My father and his actual strike force are also heavily armoured and weaponized, all set for action and ready to lead us out of the canyon and towards the base. The most recent reports from the scouts are that the entrance has remained guarded, but no one has gone in or out. And now, with the skies black and a convenient set of clouds swamping the moonlight, we’re about to make our move.
Like a well-drilled military unit, we scurry across the ground, keeping close to the rock formation as it grows and builds ahead of us. In the distance, the silhouettes of the giant fingers remain visible in the darkness, drawing us in and growing larger as we get closer.
We cover the earth quickly, not needing to stop or slow for any reason. With the eyes of our scouts covering us, we know we have an unimpeded path towards the entrance at the base of the thumb, quickly reaching the towering rock on the Eastern side. A little way down, the old remains of this section of Knight’s Wall still stand, nothing but a front for what’s lurking beneath.
Stopping, Jackson whispers his orders to his strike team, their task to surround and cover the entrance, setting up their canons and other heavy duty weapons to make sure no one but us escape. As they move off and get ready to take their positions, Jackson turns to the rest of us, now the only one remaining without any Watcher powers.
“Athena and Cyra will lead,” he says. “The rest follow behind. I will remain at the rear and provide support when we come under fire. I understand that I cannot see into the Void, but I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
I see the Watchers look at my father with respect. He’s been through numerous operations before, and knows just how to handle himself.
“OK, we all have our orders,” he continues. “My men will snipe the perimeter guards. When they’re down, we go straight in, silently, and take out anyone we see. Once we’ve covered the upper floor, we’ll regroup. Now, turn your weapons to silent. We do this without a sound.”
We move into position, creeping along the rocks and towards the rare remaining section of Knight’s Wall. Having seen it all from above, I can picture exactly where we are, the men just around the other side where the entrance is.
All eyes turn to Jackson as he whispers into his radio: “OK, on three, take them down,” issuing the command to his men, hidden off in the darkness. “One…two…three,” he hisses.
A second later, he gets confirmation. Then he turns to us and nods. “Go,” he says.
Immediately, Athena begins moving around the broken down wall, with Cyra right next to her. Behind, two Watchers follow, the most gifted of Athena’s troop. Then, Ajax, and myself make up the next row, with Velia and the other Watchers a step or two behind.
We pass around the wall, and immediately the sight of several dead men appears, little red holes the size of acorns in the centre of their foreheads. They lie in the dirt, expertly dispatched by the snipers, their guns dropped to their sides.
In the face of the wall, I see a narrow entranceway, with the insignia of the Baron’s army, of Knight’s legacy, emblazoned above it. Immediately, we filter through into the darkness, moving now in single file, as our night-vision goggles light up the path ahead.
There’s a set of steps cut into the stone, leading straight down. Silently, Athena moves to the bottom, her knowledge of the place bolstered by the schematic provided by Professor Lane. When she moves down the steps and around the corner, I see her gun quickly lift and fire, a bullet punching out of it. A second later, I hear a body hit the floor.
She continues on as the rest of us go around the corner, looking ahead to a large room that offers passage to the lower levels from various points. A couple more guards linger inside, their eyes barely having a chance to register shock at our arrival before they’re closed for good. With a few hand gestures from Athena, we spread out through the level, moving down metal passageways as our feet lightly clank, taking down
any remaining sentries we encounter.
Once the floor has been cleared, we gather again near the entrance, where the stairs to the lower levels reside.
I hear my parents and Athena in whispering conversation.
“I don’t like this,” says Athena sharply. “Why are there so few people here?”
Jackson looks equally perturbed. “The numbers match up to what our heat scanners registered. Move to the next floor, Athena, and clear it out.”
She does as ordered, taking a smaller crew down to the lower level. I’m included in it, along with Ajax, my mother, and her two favoured Watchers, leaving the others above for support. Whispering on comms to keep the rest in the loop, we move down the set of metal stairs and reach another level. Ahead of us, large rooms are linked by wide archways built into the rock, the place lit by hanging lights fixed to the ceiling. A deep silence pervades the entire space ahead as we search forward with our eyes, our goggles now unneeded and lifted to the tops of our helmets.
We move inward, creeping from one room to the next, all of us constantly focused and searching the Void and coming up with nothing. The rooms are spacious and filled with different things: weapons storage and living quarters and spaces for dining. It looks like the sort of place you’d house and build a secret army. An army, perhaps, that has now been deployed.
The entire floor is clear of people, deserted. It looks like they’ve already shipped out.
The facility runs deep, however, with several more floors to check. With a little bit more pace, we continue down, the Void throwing up no hidden surprises. I keep a close eye on Athena as we go, she being the one most likely to see any sudden assault before anyone else. But the deeper we go, and the more we search, the more relaxed her eyes become.
Soon, it becomes evident that the place has been abandoned, temporarily at least. As the Watchers are tasked with searching any nook and cranny, the main party congregate together on the bottom floor and discuss our next steps.
“We could lay a trap,” says Ajax. “This place is obviously used for housing an army. Most of them are probably dead after last night. We can kill the rest when they return.”
“But this doesn’t make sense,” I say. “I mean, surely the mercenaries who escaped the cities would have returned by now?”
“Unless they’re planning a new assault,” says Velia.
“My question,” says Cyra, “is why are they protecting the entrance and top floor if they’re no longer using the facility? If not the Baron and the rest of the Cabal, there has to be something here worth defending.”
It doesn’t take long for us to get a few answers. From various passages, Watchers come running, delivering further news of any discoveries they’ve made. One says he’s found an enormous room of files. In them could be a great deal of information regarding the Baron’s operation and plans.
Another comes running in, reporting on an expansive science facility on the level above. “It looks like they’re cooking something up there, Commander,” she tells Athena. “Bombs and other devices. Most likely what they’ve been using in the attacks.”
“Good work. I need to check this out,” says Athena.
“I’m coming too,” adds Jackson, the both of them rushing off as the rest of us wait for any more reports.
Others return with less interesting information, before moving off elsewhere to continue the search. Then, a third piece of critical intel is delivered, one of the Watchers assigned to Eden rushing straight for Cyra.
“Mrs Drayton,” his voice gallops between breaths, “I’ve found someone.”
“Who?” asks Cyra with narrowing eyes.
The man takes a breath. “Your father…I think I’ve found your father.”
Her eyes shoot wide open, and so do mine, and with a sudden turn of speed we begin chasing the man down through the tunnels and into the growing darkness. Far from the central room of the bottommost floor of the base, the Watcher guides us towards a locked room, bolted shut by firm fixings. He gestures for my mother to look through the narrow slit at eye-level in the door, and she leans in.
Seconds later, she’s leaning away again and telling us to get back. From her pocket she pulls a little device that she fixes to the locks. We disappear around the corner as the thing starts flashing red. Just as we get out of harm’s reach, it explodes loudly, causing dust to scatter from above and a booming echo to surge down the tunnel.
We reappear round the side to find the locks blasted open, the door now hanging free. As I follow my mother inside, I look upon the interior and see the shape of a figure up against the back wall, hidden in shadow, his arms raised above him and fixed by chains to the ceiling.
Cyra speeds towards him.
“Dad…dad…” she says.
Behind us, Velia scuttles around, searching for a light. She finds one on the wall and clicks the switch, and a nasty bright glow bursts to life on the ceiling. I blink for a second, my eyes adjusting. And when they do, the beaten face of my grandfather materialises from the yellow shroud.
He hangs there by the wall, his wrists locked tight by metal restraints above his head, his chin drooped to his chest. His upper body is bare, red slices and black burns painted all over his torso and arms and chest. Blood oozes from various wounds, his trousers soaked and stained red.
For all the world, he looks to be dead.
“Dad…” my mother repeats, looking up to him and lifting his chin. “Dad…can you hear me?”
The raw emotion in her voice is palpable. My insides strain as I watch, barely able to look as her fingers lift to his neck and feel for a pulse. Those few seconds seem to last an age. Her sullen eyes steadily narrow. And then, suddenly, they burst open.
“He’s alive…he’s alive!” she shouts. “Someone help me get him down.”
In one quick motion I move straight in, drawing out my extendable dagger and bringing forth the blade with a click. I slide it straight through the metal of Drake’s restraints and catch him as his weight falls. Velia and the other Watcher clear a table covered in torture utensils, sweeping them to the floor as they assault our ears with a clattering chorus. Together we gently lay Drake down, before my mother’s eyes sharply lift to the Watcher.
“Go get the medic,” she says. “Run!”
The man turns on his heels and is off, charging away to find the Watcher medic that Athena smartly brought along for the ride. As he goes, Cyra turns her attention back to her father, guiding her eyes carefully over his wounds.
To my untrained eye, most appear to be superficial, inflicted via torture in a bid, perhaps, to extract information. Their sheer volume, however, suggests that he’s lost a lot of blood, a fact given merit by the scarlet colour of the trousers and the pallor in his cheeks.
“Is he going to die?” I ask softly, looking on.
“His pulse is weak,” says Cyra. “He needs proper attention. We need to get him to Petram immediately.”
We work with what we have, wrapping up a few of his smaller wounds with the meagre medical supplies we have to hand, and doing our best to stop the bleeding on his deeper cuts. As we do, he begins to stir, his eyes flickering behind their lids. Then, a slit opens, and he stops.
“Cyra…” he croaks. “Is that you...”
My mother grabs his hand, a tear slipping from her eye. “It’s me, dad. We’ve come to save you.”
“No,” he says weakly. “No…you shouldn’t have come.”
“Why not?”
His eyes flicker again. “Theo…where’s Theo?”
I step forward. “I’m here, grandfather, I’m right here.”
He lets out a breath. It sounds like relief.
“Dad…why shouldn’t we have come?” asks Cyra intently.
“Eden,” whispers Drake. “They’re going to take Eden…”
As he speaks the words, my mind flashes once more with scenes of fire and death. Before me, I watch as the buildings burn and the fog of black smoke fills the sky. I listen as the peop
le scream and the fire crackles. I breathe in and smell the scent of blood, of searing flesh and melting metal. I feel the panic of the people, locked in the city like fish in a barrel with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
And when the world clears ahead of me again, I know that everything that’s happened up until now has been a decoy. That all the attacks were designed to confuse and divide us.
That all along, the real target was the capital city of Eden. The city where, right now, just about every luminary from across the country is hiding.
They’ve lured us out so we can’t protect them.
They’re going to exterminate them all.
27
Decoy
“We need to get back to Eden immediately! We have no time to waste.”
Jackson’s voice cuts through the clamour of activity around us as we stand outside in the tunnel. Inside the room, the medic works to secure Drake’s wounds, ably helped by several other Watchers. However, they can only offer temporary care with the supplies we have. He needs to get to Petram quick.
“Did he say anything else?” asks Jackson. “Before he passed out?”
“No,” says Cyra. “Just that they’re going to take Eden. What did you find in the science facility?”
“It’s more like a factory for weapons,” grunts Athena. “They were buildings bombs and other explosive devices. We have gathered some data that my Watchers are looking into.”
“You think they’re going to use these devices on Eden?” I ask.
We all glare and glower but no one says anything. Given Drake’s testimony, that’s a safe assumption to make.
From down the tunnel, another Watcher comes running.
“Commander,” he says, addressing Athena. “We’ve found a new area. It’s filled with transports. It looks like there’s another tunnel that leads out of the base.”
“What sort of transports?” comes Jackson’s voice. “Are there any aircraft?”
“Yes, sir,” says the man. “A few planes and some ground-based armoured vehicles. There are tracks leading from the tunnel. It looks like most were used during the attacks.”