by T. C. Edge
“Good, well done soldier,” says Jackson. “Go back and make sure the planes are operational. Where is it?”
“Two floors up, sir, right on the North end of the base.”
As the Watcher rushes off, my father’s eyes swing to the torture room, where Drake still lies on the table being worked on by the medic. He steps inside, speaking hurriedly.
“We have a plane that can take him to Petram,” he says. “Is he OK to be moved?”
“Sir, he needs to be moved,” says the medic. “He needs a blood transfusion and surgery on his more serious wounds.”
My mother and I wince at the words, but set about helping them load Drake onto a foldout stretcher and carry him through the level. We rush along to the central, spiralling chamber, before moving up two levels and heading North.
As we go, Jackson orders for his strike force to be fetched from above and to meet us down in the vehicle hanger. We continue on, navigating our way through the sprawling base, until the sound of engines begins to filter down a tunnel ahead. Soon, we emerge through an archway into a grand garage, capable of housing dozens upon dozens of vehicles. Only a few remain, however, parked against the walls.
At the end of the room, a large tunnel works its way up, presumably extending through the mountain and exiting at a secret location. And to the right, where the remaining jets are parked, is another tunnel, rising directly up above them.
It’s over by the jets that we catch sight of several of the Watchers. There are three planes, two of which are currently active, their engines glowing blue. The other, however, sits dormant, several panels on its underside open and hanging with mechanical wires and other electronics.
“This one isn’t working, sir,” says a Watcher as we walk over. “It’s clearly got some sort of fault that they were working to fix.”
“And the other two?” asks Jackson.
“Ready to go, sir.”
“Good. Let’s get Drake on board.”
We move my grandfather up onto one of the planes, just as my father’s strike force begin coming down the tunnel into the hanger. One of them is assigned to fly Drake’s jet, with the medic climbing aboard to escort the patient to Petram.
Without any time to delay, we step back and watch as the jet rises into the air, lighting up the black tunnel above as it moves up through the mountain. It gradually disappears from view as the tunnel curves away, and doesn’t return.
Now, our attention turns to our own escape. Through the tunnel, the final few stragglers come running, all of us now gathered. We’re ordered up onto the jet, a military one just like those we used to travel to New Atlantis, with two banks of benches up against each wall for us all to sit on. Ahead, one of Jackson’s men takes the wheel, with Athena acting co-pilot. My parents remain up ahead in the cockpit as the jet lifts off, rising into the darkness.
We all look out of the little windows as we rise, curving around as the other jet did, until the faint sight of the cave’s exit comes into view, the stars visible beyond. When we punch out into the night, squeezing carefully through the narrowing tunnel, I look down to see that we’ve secretly exited right out of one of the enormous, craggy fingers of The Titan’s Hand.
Setting our course to Eden, Jackson and Cyra march back into the belly of the plane. All eyes are drawn up to my father as he steps before us.
“Listen in, everyone,” he starts, eyes flowing from one of us to the next. “As all of you have heard by now, Eden is the target. As we speak, almost every regional and city leader from across the country is camped within the city walls. They think they’re safe, but they’re anything but. Baron Reinhold has set this up from the start. He’s going to eliminate them all. It is up to us to stop him.”
“You think they’re going to try to take the city?” asks one of the soldiers.
“That is the assumption we’re working with,” nods Jackson. “They have already destabilised the coastline and regions, and have weakened us overnight. If they take Eden, and kill our leaders, then they will take control of the country.”
“But how will they get into the city?” asks Velia. “Isn’t it in lockdown?”
“Yes,” says Jackson. “But we don’t know what tricks the Baron’s got up his sleeves. We need to warn them, and we need to defend them.”
He returns to the cockpit, as Cyra comes and sits down next to us. At the back of the plane, several Watchers begin sifting through files and data taken from the base, searching through documents found in the weapons facility.
As Cyra moves in beside us, Velia turns to her. “Have you spoken with my sister?” she asks.
Cyra shakes her head. “Not specifically, no, but Mercator is currently safely under our occupation. We have been relaying the message to all of the military commander across the country…”
“But not Eden,” I cut in. “You haven’t been able to contact Eden?”
She shakes her head. “Not yet. We’re still trying, and are a long way away. There may be interference at this range.”
“Or the communications may have been cut already,” says Ajax. “They might already be in the city.”
“But how will they get in?” asks Velia, once more bringing up the topic. “Isn’t the city meant to be impenetrable?”
“Yeah, unless they have someone on the inside,” I say. “Someone with all the necessary power to open up the hanger doors and call off the air defences…”
“You mean…President Alber?”
I nod. “Think about it. All the leaders from across the country came to the city for his coronation. Now, he’s locked them in because of these attacks. It’s all been coordinated between him and the Baron…”
“You might be right,” says Cyra. “The first wave of attacks took out the top leaders…Aeneas, Troy, General Richter. They knew Drake would go on the hunt, and they captured him, and tried to kill Link, but he got away. After that, it was only a matter of time before a new President was installed. Alber was always going to get the nod, everyone was always going to come together for his coronation…and now, the Baron has them all right where he wants them.”
“And he lured us out using the other attacks as decoys,” I add. “He lured us away, and Eden locked everyone out. But you can be pretty sure that Alber’s going to open up the doors when the Baron arrives.”
“And use his Seekers to cut everyone down,” says Velia.
“But he can’t know what we know,” says Ajax. “If we really think that this is all true, we need to be careful with what we tell Eden. If they know it’s us, they won’t let us back in.”
“So what do we do?” asks Velia.
“We lie,” I say. Everyone looks at me. “We’re in one of the Baron’s jets, right? We pretend we’re part of his crew, and then just hope we can get inside.”
“But that’ll only work is they’re already in the city,” says Velia.
I begin nodding. “Something tells me…they already are.”
My mother stands from our huddle, the sudden movement breaking the discussion. “I’ll relay this to Jackson,” she says. “If you’re right…we need to tread carefully.”
She turns and moves off towards the cockpit, leaving the three of us alone.
“You really think they’re already there?” asks Velia.
I see Ajax nodding as I do. “They’re there,” he growls. “This is just one big setup.”
The world is still dark outside as we cut through the sky, the clouds now dispersed and the moon glowing bright. Inside the plane, the Watchers and soldiers sit in feverish discussion, many of them coming up with wild theories of their own as they work their way through the many documents brought on board.
Gradually, the scale of the Baron’s operation is brought to light. Thousands of people have been involved in it over the years, not only the rich members of the Cabal at the top, and the many mercenaries under their command, but the various other men and women in between. Researchers, scientists, weapons developers and engineers, poli
ticians and even military officials currently operating in the Eden army are named inside one document or another.
The tendrils of this go even deeper than we thought, right back to the end of the War of the Regions two decades ago. Ever since, a growing army of people, dissatisfied with the way things turned out, have been working in tandem, under the direction of Baron Reinhold, to see out this plan. A plan created in the twisted mind of Augustus Knight all those years ago, and fleshed out by the man who reveres and admires him so much.
And now, their plan is coming to fruition, years of collaboration and conspiracy building to this point. They’re going to eliminate all those who oppose them, and take back the country. And in their wake, the doctrine of Knight will be restored.
And we’re the only ones that can stop it.
I continue to send my eyes to the windows as voices rush around me, searching the grounds below for some sight of where we are. Occasionally, Jackson or Cyra or Athena come back from the cockpit with updates and to hear the latest news dredged up from the document search. When they do, they provide details of where we are, and how long it will be until we reach our new target.
Each time they do, I look out and try to wonder where we are. In the darkness, it’s impossible to make anything out. When we reach the coast, however, that all changes.
Because down along the shoreline, little fires still burn here and there, lingering remnants of the devastation of the previous night. When we move out to sea, the shape of New Atlantis comes into view, embers continuing to glow up and down the high towers, lights sparkling on the surface of the water surrounding it.
As we pass, Jackson comes to the front, our plan now firmly in place and passed around from soldier to soldier, Watcher to Watcher.
“The sun will be rising soon,” he announces to us all. “By the time it does, Eden will be in our sights. We’re going to communicate with the hanger control centre using our plane’s identification number, and hope they fall for it…”
“So you think the city has already been infiltrated, sir?” asks a soldier.
My father begins nodding. “I’m afraid so. And now…now it’s our turn.”
He returns to the cockpit for the final run. I look ahead out of the window and see that the sky is changing colour, brightening to signal a new day. And today will be one of reckoning.
Today, all of the pieces are finally coming together.
28
Showdown
“OK, no one speak,” says Jackson. “Keep completely silent. I will do the talking.”
Ahead, the city of Eden looms, the grand platform rising high out of the ocean, tall and wide and seemingly impenetrable. From the outside, it all looks normal, the ocean quiet and calm, the sunrise bringing a healthy glow to the morning air.
Inside, however, it will be anything but. Overnight, the Baron and his forces will have made their way in, welcomed with open arms by President Alber. They will have done so without opposition, the city’s forces called off, the snake allowed to slither right into the fox’s den without so much as a shot being fired.
As coups go, I have to hand it to them. It’s all been masterfully played, each move building to the next, deepening the crisis that we’re facing. But now, all they have to do is see to the mass murder of those who oppose Knight’s vision, reflected through the Baron’s words and actions. And in one fell swoop, this nation will see the old order restored.
I stand on the outskirts of the cockpit, listening intently as my father dials into the city’s security centre. As the leader of the city’s defences over the last few months, Jackson has developed an intimate knowledge of its security protocols. As part of that, he’s gotten to know well the few men tasked with running the city’s defensive systems, including the external guns and the hanger gates.
Now, his ear for voices is going to be put to the test.
The line crackles for a moment as we approach, all of us silently holding our breath. Then, through the static, a voice appears.
“Eden control tower, identify yourself.”
I watch my father’s face carefully as he tries to identify the voice. He looks to us and shakes his head, his eyes narrowing. He doesn’t recognise it.
“Morning control, ID number KN243.”
We wait nervously for a response. It seems to take an age.
“What is your purpose?”
“Special cargo,” says Jackson. “We’ve gathered some more leaders from the regions to join the others, under orders from Baron Reinhold.”
Again, there’s a brief delay, as we wait with bated breath.
Our subterfuge has to hold…
Then, the voice comes on the radio once more.
“OK, KN243. Hanger bay 4 is opening for entry. We’ll have a troop waiting to escort the subjects to the central square.”
We look to each other as Jackson says thank you and clicks off the line.
“The central square,” I say as soon as it’s safe. “That’s where they’re gathering everyone?”
“Sounds like it,” says Jackson. “Good job, all of you. The ruse has worked for now, but it won’t last as soon as those soldiers see us. We’ll have to take them out quick, and get to the tower before anyone can call in for help.”
“No problem,” says Athena. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Good. We have to be quick, no mistakes. Don’t let anyone speak when we get off the plane. I’ll relay to the troops.”
Jackson moves into the belly of the plane to pass on his orders. Everyone appears buoyed by the fact that our plan has so far succeeded, the plane now a Trojan horse about to deliver us right into the heart of this coup.
“A day ago, when we left the city, it was ours,” says Jackson. “Now, it’s down to us to take it right back from under the noses of these usurpers. We’re counting on all of you. A single missed shot can mean failure. Get yourselves ready.”
As we swoop lower towards the outer walls of the city, everyone prepares themselves for another fight, checking their armour and weapons and getting ready for combat. Ahead, the door for hanger 4 begins to open, the main control tower a little way down the city’s perimeter.
I look upon the large gun placements on the external walls, ready to strike at any incoming enemy. Part of me expects them to suddenly let loose a barrage of fire that not even we could do anything about, for me to look into the Void and see the plane explode around me. But they merely remain in place, statically looking out to sea as we pass by and move closer to the open passageway into the city.
Ahead, through the main window, I see soldiers moving into the hanger, their weapons raised. From this distance, it’s clear to see which uniforms they’re wearing, the Baron’s mercenary army now having taken control of the city. I wonder, with Alber on board, whether the city guards and soldiers will join up too, happy to go with the flow as the new regime takes charge. Most have little in the way of loyalty one way or another, and with some of the military commanders now known to be loyal to the Baron, it’s possible that it might just be us against the world in here.
I have no time to take such a concern to Jackson, the plane now moving into the shadow of the hanger. Cleverly, the pilot turns it as we enter, making sure that when the door slides open, we have clear shots right out into the pack of soldiers awaiting us.
We take our positions, some of us kneeling, others standing behind, and all of us with our guns set to silence. I stare down the barrel of my rifle at the door, my breath calm, my heart beating steadily, and wait for the door to rise.
The jet stops with a bump. Outside, I hear voices. Then, suddenly, a heavy hiss of air sounds and the door escapes upwards, opening up to reveal the troop of soldiers standing before us. They barely have time to react as our guns snap together, two dozen of them all firing at once.
The entire greeting party is immediately gunned down, some taking single bullets to the head, others blasted with many to the chest. They drop, almost as one, into a heap of flesh on
the floor, all of them incapacitated in a flash.
“OK, go go go…” says Jackson.
We move down into the hanger as quickly as possible, the door at the other end open and brightly lit as the sun shines down outside through the domed roof of the city. We grab bodies and move them quickly to the side, hiding them wherever we can as Athena moves forward with her two favoured Watchers. They quickly disappear from the hanger, checking the coast is clear before moving right and preparing to infiltrate the command centre.
It doesn’t take them long to reappear, their mission seen through without a hitch. As soon as they re-enter the hanger, we shut the door, blocking us out from anyone who might see in from outside.
“They won’t be telling anyone we’re here,” says Athena, marching towards us with blood splashed across her suit.
“Did you get any information out of them?” asks Jackson.
“Didn’t have time,” she says. “All we know is what he said on the radio. We need to get to the central square immediately.”
“But that’ll put everyone in danger,” says Velia. “They’ll just open fire…”
“What choice do we have?” asks Ajax. “They’re going to murder anyone important anyway. We can’t just stand here forever.”
“But what about the visions we’ve had,” adds in Cyra. “Some of them were clearly of here. We know the city is going to burn. If we go in, all guns blazing, maybe that’s what triggers it?”
“Maybe,” says Athena. “Or maybe not. Maybe they’re going to start burning all those people right there in the square at any moment. Maybe that’s what you’ve seen. Our job is to make the city safe, and that means taking out the Baron and his Seekers. They are the priority.”
“And if innocent people get caught in the crossfire?” asks Cyra.
“Then so be it,” says Athena. “We know what war is like, Cyra. If the few have to die to save the many, then that’s just how it is. We need to do our job, no matter what.”