The oddest thing struck him now; the smell. It made his hackles rise with the instinctive reaction to alien. He vaguely remembered that same smell back in the North American headquarters, and again from that pop-up cell he and Sera had caught in the old school, but it hadn’t been that strong, perhaps because there had been so many humans among the creatures they had called Thulians. But these Kriegers were all “Thulians,” and…their bodies smelled wrong, their blood smelled wrong. Even though the scent was “like” several things—orange, burned cinnamon, musk—his body recognized that it was not actually those things, it was other, and reacted accordingly.
He was aware of Sera even though he couldn’t actually see her, only the wash of fire that showed where she stood, or leapt, or flew. Surrounded by fire, she was a dervish with a sword of flame, spinning like a deadly top, leaping over the heads of her opponents, aided by powerful thrusts of her wings, to land behind them and take them out from the rear. He was also aware how she mourned each and every death, feeling that grief with a depth even he couldn’t fathom; and yet, she did not allow that sorrow to stop her.
Unter and Bear were working together, fighting back to back; Unter’s nearly indestructible hands lashed out with precision and fury, blocking both knives and unarmed blows from the Kriegers or striking with deadly accuracy. Bear, who was still flagging, took several blows to his metallic body, but wasn’t nearly as affected as he should have been, to the dismay of his attackers. With buttstrokes from his PPSh he would clear the space immediately in front of him, then hose down several Kriegers at once with bullets. Neither joked nor chided the other.
Mamona was frantically trying to keep up with the stream of enemies that kept attacking her. She had begun to run out of knives, so she resorted to moving from body to body, fighting as she went; when she reached one with a knife stuck in it, she would yank it out and immediately plant it in another Krieger. She was saved several times by her ability to interfere with the equilibrium of her enemies; right before a Krieger could land a killing blow, she would interrupt him, causing him to stagger, fall to the ground and convulse, vomiting or clawing at his ears. Even so, she had suffered a few gashes, a black eye, and a bloodied nose.
Molotok shone in this kind of fight. Super-strong and resilient, he was engaging nearly half of the Kriegers inside of the barriers. With an almost casual backhand he would send two or more Kriegers flying, necks broken. A kick turned another into a ragdoll projectile, knocking down several of his allies. He would even use individual Thulians as weapons, swinging them around to bludgeon others, or as shields to take incoming energy blasts. It was like watching a god swatting defiant mortals, scattering them like toys.
But this didn’t seem to do more than put a dent in the oncoming horde of Thulians. I’m about sick of this shit. If they were occupied with the infantry for much longer, the trooper armor would reach them. And sooner or later, someone was going to miss his mark and get killed, even with Sera and John trying to be everywhere at once in the fight. Time to get some breathin’ room. John saw in his mind what he needed to do, and knew that Sera understood as well.
“Everyone drop!” he shouted as loudly as he could, hoping it was enough to reach over the din of the fighting, or that at least they’d hear through their ear-implants. Unter responded immediately, but had to drag a cursing Bear down. Molotok dove for the ground as well, but while sweeping and breaking the legs of half a dozen Kriegers.
Mamona stood with her back to him; either she hadn’t heard him, or was a bit groggy from whatever had blacked her eye. John was already building up his fires, and there was nothing he could do, they didn’t have any time left—
But again, Sera anticipated him; as she leapt back over the barrier to take cover, one enormous wing swept out and pulled in with a flash of fire-feathers, sweeping Mamona back in towards Sera with it. With the wing curled around her comrade, Sera went to the ground, taking Mamona with her, the wing over her like a sheltering umbrella.
He’d done this twice before, once, back in that warehouse, and once at the North American HQ, but both times wildly out of control. This time…the control came to him as if he had practiced this very maneuver a hundred times. The release of his fires would not be chaotic and random, but precise. As precise as Sera’s strikes. With the rest of the team clear, John released the pent up fires in one burst; a plasma wave, traveling at roughly neck level, issued in all directions, centered on him. It caught the majority of the Kriegers in the upper chest, neck, or face; it was a grisly sight as their newly “shortened” bodies fell burning to the ground. The monument wall was scarred in one thick line, not quite enough to cut completely through the heavy marble and bronze. The rest of the team quickly regained their positions, shoving aside the bodies. Movement to their left caught John’s attention. In the conflagration he had created earlier, he saw the stunned Robo Wolf begin to regain its footing.
“We’ve got problems.” He checked his rifle, making sure it was topped off, then did the same with his pistol. With Pavel’s energy levels so low, he couldn’t possibly pull off another plasma shot. Also, due to the way these new wolves were hardened to fire, his own powers wouldn’t have much effect. If that Robo Wolf led another charge, the team would be in real trouble; they had only barely managed to survive the last one.
Molotok seemed to size up the entire situation at the same time as John. Looking around their barrier, he bent down and grabbed one of the last living Kriegers; one of the ones that he had broken the legs of with his last leg sweep. He headbutted the Thulian, either killing it or knocking it unconscious. Setting it on the barrier, he then shrugged off his patrol pack, dug around in it for a second, and then retrieved one of their mission-specific ordinance packs; essentially a demolition charge, to be used on one of the Krieger shield generators. Grabbing the dead or unconscious Krieger, he first primed the bomb, then stuffed it down the front of the man’s field blouse. Looking to the now standing Robo Wolf, he paused, judging the distance, and then threw the Krieger in a fastball pitch at the wolf.
The wolf had time to look up right before the Krieger messily impacted its neck. In a moment of revulsion it reminded John of a really big, juicy bug hitting a windshield on the interstate.
“Down,” Molotok said calmly. The team dropped behind the barrier again. John glanced over at the team leader, and saw that he had a detonator in his hand. Smiling, he flipped up the activation latch and then thumbed the trigger.
It sounded like two tectonic plates had decided to slam together in an earthy high five right in front of them. The ground bucked and the entire team was bathed in a too-hot pressure wave. When they had regained enough of their senses to look, John saw that one of the wolf’s claws was embedded in the wall just above his head, still smoking. Peeking over the top of the cover, he saw there was a sizable crater and nothing else where the Robo Wolf had been. All of the trooper armor in the square had been knocked down, with several of them obviously dead from the explosion or the debris it had sent flying out.
“You guys sure know how to get my attention.” Vix sounded exhausted. “Good job, Moji. Passing the word to the rest that the dogs can get blowed up real good. Might as well use those bombs on something.”
“Kriegers were being out of neon signs to get little witch’s attention. Bomb seemed good alternative.”
“You do know those are special payloads, right? Lotsa nuvo-thermite. Or whatever the hell the hot stuff ECHO packed in there is. I didn’t get details. Probably why the wolf went—sec—”
The Krieger troopers had begun to recover; most of those that were able to, began shooting as soon as they could stand, while others dragged some of their fallen comrades away. Soon, the energy beams were constant, slamming into the obelisk barriers and the wall again. The relief carvings were almost unrecognizable now. Whatever the stone was, it might look like marble, but it was holding up better against the beams than John had thought it would. Still, their cover was wearing down, slowly but surel
y. For some reason, the Krieger troopers weren’t advancing, just firing and pinning the team in place. John did his best to blast several with fire so that the team could whittle away at them with their rifles, taking out the odd one with his plasma while Sera did the same with her spears. But the Kriegers refused to advance.
“They’re up to somethin’. We need to figure out an exit strategy, and soon—”
John’s words were drowned out when the first of the artillery hit. The artillery was some sort of weird type that John had never seen before. When the shell impacted, it also seemed to release a burst of the same energy that Thulian arm cannons fired. It fell short of their position, but it was utterly devastating where it did land. Apparently the Kriegers weren’t worried about creating a few potholes, or even taking down some buildings, so long as they took out Red Team. Slowly, but methodically, the impacts started to march forward, coming closer and closer to the team.
“I’m really not likin’ this, fellas!” Mamona huddled beneath the cover, wincing with every explosion.
The team had nowhere to go; the troopers were keeping them pinned, and the artillery was still homing in on them. John’s mind searched for alternatives, something that they could do. He and Sera could grab some of the team, maybe fly, but they couldn’t hold everyone, and they’d surely be cut to ribbons by the troopers. Could Vix make them a hole deep enough to hide in?
If she could have, she would have already.
Everyone on the team looked to each other, hoping someone had some idea to save them. They all realized that there was nothing to be done; they were stuck. John heart sank, and he took Sera’s hand, dust falling onto the back of his glove from the shaking monument. We’ve had a damned good run, and made the bastards pay for it. I just hope that we beat ’em in the end.
His eyes met Sera’s, and he felt a sense of calm as she met his gaze solemnly; he wouldn’t be alone this time. He never would be alone again.
He was about to tell her that he loved her when something tickled the back of his mind, causing him to look over his shoulder. For the briefest moment, he thought he saw dark figures running on the rooftop. He was almost convinced that he was just seeing things.
Then the artillery stopped abruptly. The troopers’ energy cannons slackened in their firing, then stopped completely.
“Chto’ yebat?” Unter looked more annoyed than surprised. The team collectively peered over the barriers. The troopers were looking around, shouting to each other in confusion. The artillery started up again suddenly…but this time it was much closer to the Krieger lines than it was to the team. And it started moving towards the Kriegers. Some of them broke and ran, but others weren’t as lucky. The blasts demolished entire sections of buildings, bursting trooper armor or simply obliterating it in an explosive wash of energy. Once it became clear that the team’s demise wasn’t so certain, all of the CCCP infiltrators resumed shooting again, many times at fleeing targets.
Soon the entire square was a burning ring of destroyed buildings and dead Thulians. The artillery stopped once again. After several seconds there were multiple explosions in the distance, at different points in the city.
“Stay on guard. No knowing what is coming next. Be prepared to move out.” Molotok couldn’t help but let some measure of being impressed at the destruction creep into his voice.
Vix was swearing softly under her breath. “leechaa’itsa’ii biyaazh. Someone just bought a bunch of our people some breathing room,” she said, after a moment. “It wasn’t just you. Fire, Earth, North and Sky were all pinned down, like you. Now…they’re not. And those artillery pieces just blowed the hell up.”
“And it wasn’t our people, Vic?” John asked, surveying the damage. He could still hear fighting off in the distance, but for the moment it looked like their area was clear of any threats. He couldn’t “feel” any hostile presences, as weird as it was to think about. Gotta talk with Sera more about this hoodoo stuff. I’m not complaining, but damn if it isn’t strange as all get out.
“Contact front!” That was Mamona. The team all snapped their attention in the direction she was looking, rifles raised, or in Sera’s case, a spear. Through the dust and smoke from the burning trooper armor, John could see that there was a sizable group moving towards them. And they were moving professionally; all sectors covered, good spacing, keeping their footfalls light. Another one of the infil teams? They weren’t showing up on Vic’s radar—some sort of Krieger trick? Reviving the old stormtrooper infiltration methods, maybe? Wait…there was one blip, marked as friendly…but there were still too many moving figures to account for.
As soon as the first of them cleared the smoke, John knew it wasn’t a Krieger trick. The uniform, the patches, and especially the woman leading the group clearly identified who they were.
Blacksnake; with Khanjar, kitted up in full combat gear, NVGs perched up on the top of her head, leading the way. They must have come in at close to the same time that the teams had, in the pre-dawn.
“Do not be letting your guards down. No telling what these snakes are to be playing at,” Bear muttered. Unter nodded agreement, lightly elbowing Mamona to remind her to bring her rifle back to her shoulder.
But Sera leapt lightly over the barrier and approached them, empty-handed, bee-lining for Khanjar. Molotok and the other Russians all tried to protest, but she was already there by the time any of them realized what she intended to do. John held up his hand, then lowered his rifle to a low ready.
“She knows what she’s doin’, gents.” John vaulted over the barrier, walking to meet with his wife. He turned back to face the team briefly. “All the same, cover me, will ya?”
Unter nodded. John arrived by Sera’s side just as she started talking; Molotok had decided to move up with him, so that they were both flanking Sera.
Sera was already holding out her hand. “Khanjar. So we have you to thank?”
Khanjar looked at the outstretched hand as if it was a cobra, and took it gingerly for a moment. “Dom is…indisposed, not paying any attention to this part of the world nor to what I was doing in it. And I had a contingent that was loyal only to me.” She let go of the hand and looked up. “Belladonna and I have had an understanding for some little while. It seemed a good moment to exercise my option to aid. We followed on your teams, after they had already drawn away most of the fire.”
“And Bella does not know you are here?” Sera cocked her head to one side, inviting an answer.
“She does now,” Vix said in their ears. “I thought only I could swear like that.”
Khanjar shook her head. “It seemed prudent not to divulge anything to anyone. Not even my group knew what I intended other than that we were going to strike at a Thulian stronghold, nor where we were going, until we arrived.”
Now John spoke up. “Why? What’s your play in all of this?” he asked, his voice maybe harder and sharper than he had intended. But Blacksnake had tried to kill him—personally—twice. Dominick Verdigris had tortured and nearly killed Sera. And right at this moment, he damn well was going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.
“Because I have no intention of destroying my karma by being involved with the murder of a Celestial,” Khanjar replied, also sharply, then did a double-take in John’s direction, and amended, “Celestials.” She took a deep, deep breath, and then shook her head slightly, as if she had been taken quite entirely by surprise, and didn’t like the sensation.
Now how in the hell does she know about that? More to talk to Sera about…later. We’ve got work to do right now.
“And I intend to enjoy the world,” she continued. “I do not think it would be nearly so pleasant with these dogs ruling it.” She glanced slightly to her right as the man there nodded. “Neither do these men. I chose them with care. They have not been pleased that we have been combating things other than Nazis.”
“So, you are to be helping us. Horosho.” Molotok paused. “Overwatch, what is best course of action at this point
in mission?”
Without any prompting that John could hear, Sera unhooked her earpiece and held it out. Vickie’s amplified voice came through loud enough to be heard by all of them.
“Since we’ve blown any chance of secrecy, I’m told by Command to relay that Red, Earth, Fire, North, South, Sky and Sea are directed to link up and make a concerted push. Directions on your HUDs for linkup. Objective to be selected at that time.”
Molotok pointed towards the direction that the HUD outlined to the nearest infiltration team. “You and your forces will being accompanying us. Once joined with our comrades, we will destroy the fascista.”
Khanjar ignored him, looking directly at John and Sera instead. Sera glanced at John. “Covering fire for our movements?” she murmured.
John shook his head. “Naw, Moji is right. We can’t afford to get pinned down like that again. We’ll stick together, move in concert. Fire an’ maneuver warfare.”
“Operative Khanjar, I now have your Blacksnake team freqs. Patching in now. I won’t be giving orders, just warning and directions, some info on your HUDs. Orders will be up to you and Molotok. My feed to your HUDs will be blue.”
Collision: Book Four in the Secret World Chronicle - eARC Page 49