Dragon: Allie's War Book Nine

by Andrijeski, JC

“––Or shutting them off,” I growled. “Guy’s crazy. We can’t factor him in, Jem.”

  “They’ll have routed the breach file up to SCARB by now––”

  “––And we have Deklan,” I reminded him. “And Chan, Talei, Kat and Mara. A little faith, brother, that they might have helped to slow those reactions down some.”

  “They can’t blow their cover. They can’t. It would be a disaster.”

  “And Talei assured me they wouldn’t send out a general alarm for something like this,” I said. “They’ll want us alive, and they won’t trust the regular military with––”

  “Unless they changed the protocols.”

  Clenching my jaw, I gave him a disbelieving look. “In which case I’ll be proved wrong, and you can laugh at me later, brother.”

  I felt Dalejem’s skepticism, but that time, he remained silent.

  I felt him reacting to me pulling on his light again, too.

  I could feel it screwing with both of us, me as much as him.

  I knew it was probably messing with our judgment. I knew it might be causing this argument as much as anything we were actually saying. Pain slid through his light even as I thought it, dense enough that my chest clenched, throwing off the rhythm of my steps. I recovered easily but separation pooled and sparked in my light in reaction, making me think of Revik…and I sure as fuck didn’t want to think about him right then, either.

  I still needed light, but I tried to decide if I should disengage.

  “Don’t bother,” he growled. “That ship has sailed, Esteemed Bridge.”

  I didn’t ask him what he meant by that either.

  Even so, my neck and face flushed as his words sank in. Whatever the wisdom of us taking the time to argue about nothing when we were about to enter a firefight, we definitely didn’t have time to have that conversation.

  Which meant we might not ever have it.

  We’d reached the end of the hall.

  It turned out we’d been angst-ing about who to shoot and whether to use the telekinesis or walk in guns blazing…for nothing.

  I slowed to a walk right before we would have been visible from the mess area linking the different segments of residential corridors. I felt Dalejem slow next to me, pacing me even as he let himself draw slightly ahead.

  We’d left the secure hallway behind a few turns back by then.

  As we made our way through secondary corridors between Novak’s weird command center and the regular military areas, our progress was notable only in that we didn’t see another living being the whole way.

  Well, apart from organic machines.

  Now we were getting close to that larger space, the one that had been filled with humans and seers walking to and fro through wider corridors with higher ceilings. The silence unnerved me. The first time we’d walked through there, it had been a busy thoroughfare…a place for crossing between meetings and shifts, for coming and going from private rooms to get in a quick nap or shower or a fuck or whatever else.

  Linking to the main mess hall for that part of the compound, it also had tables and chairs scattered under overhangs outside the more brightly-lit mess hall itself. The hall, which we’d seen from the greenish corridor, housed rows of tables and benches that ran its length, along with an old-style cafeteria, buffet-style, adjacent to an industrial-sized kitchen.

  The mess hall itself was big…from my perspective at least. It looked to be about three of my high school cafeterias back home. Maybe ten of the cafeteria on the carrier we’d been using as common space before we abandoned it in the waters off Dubai.

  So yeah, the space we were about to enter was huge, and should be teeming with people.

  Even before we got there, I felt it, though. I felt it before it occurred to me again how quiet it was, and how little I could sense with my light, even given the interference of the shield.

  Given all that, I shouldn’t have been surprised, I guess. I should have known what we would see when we rounded that corner.

  Even so…even feeling that misgiving and finally noticing the quiet and sensing ripples in my light as Dalejem reacted to something similar…even then, we both still skidded to a stop when we stepped out into that common area.

  Dalejem reacted faster than I did.

  He had his gun off his shoulder and aimed forward while I continued to stare around where we stood, feeling like I’d just been punched in the gut…again.

  Bodies. Bodies strewn as far as I could see in the flickering light. I say flickering because a number of organic lights had been blown out of the ceiling. Scorch marks decorated the walls and floors, as well as the ceiling in parts.

  I could smell blood. I could actually smell it…along with burning skin, hair and flesh. I scanned over those broken forms with my eyes, listening for some sign that any of them lived. Groans. Movement of any kind…even feeble movement.

  I didn’t see anything. I also didn’t hear anything apart from those sparking lights.

  There’d been a firefight here all right…we’d just missed it.

  “Gaos…” Dalejem muttered.

  I followed his eyes to the cafeteria itself. Under the stark lights of that long space, even more bodies lay broken among tables. Part of that room was on fire, in addition to having more blown out light tubes and the starker contrast of those bodies on the white floor and tables. An orange emergency light rotated in one corner. No sprinklers appeared to be going off and I didn’t hear any actual alarm pulses echoing through the space.

  The alarm could be silent, of course. If so, I didn’t feel anyone coming.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Dalejem burst out. “Gaos…”

  I felt his emotions twisting out from under him.

  Looking at him in alarm, I realized some of that was from the loss of light, from me draining him. Stepping closer to him at once, I wound back into him with my aleimi, giving him some of that light back.

  “Don’t…” he began, his voice gruff as he glared at me.

  He started to push me off, but I didn’t let him.

  “I don’t need it,” I said, gripping his arm. “I don’t need it now, and you know it. Whatever this is, it’s over, okay?” Not waiting for him to acknowledge my words, I laid my palm on his chest, giving him more light, in a bigger, denser burst. I felt him react at once and clenched my jaw, watching his face for signs that it was working.

  Pain coiled around him again, mixing with his emotional reaction to all of that death.

  “Gaos,” he exhaled. “…I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. Calm down, okay?” I murmured.

  He nodded, avoiding my eyes.

  I felt his pain worsen as his jaw clenched, right before he caught hold of me with his hands. He was breathing harder then. I pretended not to notice how much heat came off his light in those few seconds, and I didn’t look down at his body either. When I glanced at his face that time, he bit his lip, wrapping his fingers around me tighter.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  I didn’t answer, fighting not to react to what I felt on his light.

  When I’d fed him enough to see his expression start to smooth, I took my hand off his chest. It wasn’t really enough, but it would have to be enough for now…I wanted to get the fuck out of there, too, despite what I’d just said to him. I also wasn’t sure if I could deal with sharing any more light with him right then, not until both of us were thinking more clearly.

  We’d both just gotten another major emotional shock, which wasn’t helping.

  My brain knew all of this, even as my own light continued to struggle with the smell and light remnants of death all around us.

  He released me somewhere in that, more heat pluming off his light.

  I didn’t let go of his arm, though.

  Instead I gripped it tighter, walking him around and over and through the downed bodies filling the long space, aiming my feet for the smaller corridors on the other side. Dalejem followed me wordlessly
, still holding the gun, his other hand gripping it with white knuckles. In the corridor on the other side, more bodies lay by the walls and a few in the middle. I saw lights hanging down, sparking, more burns from gun blasts.

  “Try to reach Chan,” I told Dalejem, glancing back at his face. He was staring at bodies as we passed, still gripping the rifle. His light still snaked around him strangely; he still felt more depleted than not. “Jem?” I said levelly. I waited, trying to get him to look at me. When he did a few seconds later, I made my voice stronger. “…I don’t think our signal’s going to matter now. Call Chan, okay? Find out where they are. We need to know how wide this is.”

  I watched his eyes clear slightly, which is what I’d been going for.

  When he nodded that time, the infiltrator’s cloak has returned somewhat to his light. I felt him trigger the headset an instant later, right before he routed the signal to include me.

  I kept my eyes on the corridor, still feeling ahead carefully from behind the shield as I walked us around bodies. Dalejem gently took his arm back right as someone on the other end picked up, surprising both of us.

  I don’t think I’d realized until then that I’d expected all of them to be dead.

  “Dalejem? Where’s the fucking Bridge?” Chandre’s voice was harsh.

  Dalejem sent her a snapshot of our location, a millisecond of pause before speaking.

  “Where are you?” he said.

  “Northeast entrance…the main…”

  I heard a lot of noise in the background. Gunshots. Impact concussions, big enough to be grenades at least. Definitely automatic weapon fire. Shouting.

  “Where’s the fucking Bridge?” Chandre repeated. “Dalejem?”

  “I’m here,” I snapped, my voice shockingly loud in the more or less empty corridor. I realized I was shouting to compensate for what I heard on the other side of that line.

  “Who or what are you engaging right now, Chan? Who’s firing?”

  “It’s him,” she said. “That fucking manipulator you told us about…the monster who looks like the Sword. With the muzzle over––”

  “Disengage!” I said, shouting the word. “Disengage…right the fuck now! I mean it! He’s wiped out this whole level of the compound…”

  I felt Chandre’s frustration worsen. “The President thinks we should try to take him down now, before he––”

  “Fuck the President! She’s not qualified to make that decision!”

  “She’s giving the orders,” Chandre said. “To the humans, at least––”

  “Are you a fucking worm?” I snarled, coming to a stop in the corridor. “Take control of her! Now!” At Chandre’s hesitation, I raised my voice. “Remember Syrimne, Chan?” My hands curled into fists, even as my light snapped out in a hard arc. “Do you seriously think that crippled remnant of a human army has a chance in fucking hell right now against a manipulator more advanced than my goddamned husband…?”

  Waiting a bare half-second for her to hear my words, I snapped, “Disengage! Right now! That’s a direct fucking order…or I swear to the gods I’ll kill you myself!”

  Silence.

  I know the pause was short. Maybe a second or two.

  Maybe less.

  Even so, I found myself holding my breath as the automatic rifle fire continued in the background, as I heard gasps, screams, cracking and snapping noises my mind wanted to turn into skulls and spines being shattered. Guns exploding in hands. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, fighting to block out the image of all of those people being killed on my watch.

  Being killed because of me.

  I was about to start screaming into the link again when Chandre’s voice rose, sounding harder, more determined.

  “Understood, sir. Deklan and I are taking control of the humans’ lights now. We’ll have to force them to pull back. Including the President.” Chan paused, her voice meaningful. “She’s not going to be happy about that, sir. At all.”

  “I don’t give a fuck for happy,” I retorted, even as relief spiraled off my light. “Do you have an exit? I’m coming, but don’t wait for us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Chandre said, her voice more sure. “We should be able to get most of them out. Well…unless he chases us. But he didn’t attack until we did. He was trying to break down the gate to get out. He turned on the guard when they fired on him…”

  I nodded, once, feeling a tentative hope fight to bloom in my chest.

  “Good,” I said. Rubbing my forehead, I struggled to control my light. “Prioritize Brooks. Get her out of there. Alive. I want you on the run in the next five fucking seconds…with as many of them as you can take with you. We’ll get there as soon as we can. I’ll do my best to distract him if he tries to take chase…but I want you on the move.”

  That time, Chandre gave a hard ping of acknowledgment.

  “Yes, sir. Understood, sir. Right away.”

  The line clicked off.

  I looked at Dalejem.

  He looked pale again, but he nodded grimly when he caught the other end of my stare.

  I felt his flicker of agreement at what I’d done. Fear continued to want to slide off my light, sparking and coiling around my body in erratic waves. It occurred to me that the excess light was ratcheting up my emotional reactions, too, if in a different way than what the lack of light had been doing to Dalejem. Fighting to control those increasingly violent waves of light, I began to jog down the corridor.

  I didn’t look back, knowing Dalejem would follow.

  When it hit me we wouldn’t be meeting Dragon around the next corner, I broke into a full-fledged run, pretty much the instant I had my light more or less under control.

  I had to get to them.

  I had to get to the others before Dragon finished wiping out every last remnant of what remained of the United States military command, as well as Brooks and Chandre and the majority of my infiltration team.

  I’d done this, my mind kept repeating.

  I’d done this.

  This was my fault.

  Whatever happened here, it was all my fault.

  19

  ANNIVERSARY

  “Where is she?” Balidor said.

  His voice came out hard, strangely stripped. Even so, Chandre heard the emotion there, the denser reactions he normally would have hidden from her, well past where her sight could have ventured. She felt her own anger return as she replied.

  “She is sleeping, brother,” she said, blunt. “Where she should be…I would have knocked her out myself, had she refused.”

  “Sleeping?” Balidor said. He seemed about to say something, then didn’t. “Did she go to see the medical techs, at least?”

  “She refused. Well,” Chandre amended. “She had the one wound dressed, but that is all. She did that between ops.”

  “Ops,” he muttered, anger returning to his voice. “And none of you noticed the fucking Bridge leaving your compound in the early hours of the morning?” Not seeming to expect an answer, he snapped, “Where’s brother Dalejem? I’d like a word with him, as well.”

  “He is also retired for the night.” Sighing in a series of clicks, Chandre felt some of the fight go out of her light. “Truthfully, the two are borderline traumatized, brother. I think a few days before a formal debrief might be necessary, especially given what this Dragon did to the Bridge. As far as I know, she has refused to talk about that end of things with anyone…well, apart from brother Jem, perhaps.”

  “Did he really look so much like Dehgoies?” Balidor said.

  There was a silence. Then Chandre let out a softer series of clicks.

  “Yes,” she said simply.

  “Is there a working theory for this?” Balidor said.

  “None as yet. Apart from the obvious.”

  “A clone?”

  “Yes…or perhaps a biological brother, although that seems less likely.”

  “A twin you mean?” Balidor said, his voice holding incredulity. “Has anyone discussed
such a thing with sister Tarsi?”

  “No,” Chandre said, sighing again. “Truthfully brother, we only just arrived here, and the plane ride from Colorado consisted primarily of addressing the wounded and speaking with the humans who traveled with us…including President Brooks.”

  “You were in those meetings?” Balidor said. “With Brooks?”

  “No. I provided security.” Hearing the silence this produced, Chandre added, “The plane was military. Equipped with a separate compartment which was used by the Bridge, Talei, President Brooks, and several in her cabinet to conduct private talks. The President was not at all happy with the Bridge’s decision to usurp her authority at the underground facility. Given that she had many more people with her, including seers, I felt it wise to provide a secondary level of security over the room.”

  “I see.”

  Chandre felt the fatigue catching up with her, straining her patience.

  “I was asked to do it,” she said, her voice harder. After a bare pause, she found herself blurting her next words. “Am I being cut out, brother? By the Bridge? If so, I wish to told as much. Formally, I mean.”

  “Cut out?” Balidor’s voice held puzzlement. “What does that mean, sister?”

  Feeling her jaw harden more, Chandre crossed her arms.

  She knew it might not be entirely appropriate, bringing this up with the head of the Adhipan rather than Alyson herself, particularly during an official report. But she’d already started this, she might as well finish it.

  “It is subtle,” Chandre said, making a more concessionary gesture with one hand as she tempered her voice. “But I feel it. I am no longer being allowed as close to the Bridge. I am not in her confidence as I once was.” Pausing, she let her voice grow more blunt. “Is this because of Bangkok? What happened on that wall?”

  Balidor fell silent.

  “Sister,” he said after another pause, clicking softly. “I think this is not an appropriate area for me to comment…”

  “Yet I am asking you,” Chandre said.

  “The Sword indicated such a thing yes,” he said, sighing.

  “The Sword is no longer here,” Chandre said, her voice harder. “Is this your doing? Wreg’s? Or hers?”