by Brent Reilly
CHAPTER 15
Once Billy carried Tommy away, William cut off their heads because Mongols believe their souls will never find peace if headless. Then he took his wife’s wands and reviewed their last memories. He saw Liz descend to their hut when several wands from within shot them at point-blank range.
The surprise was total. Fliers need all four wands to land safely, which makes that moment the best opportunity for surprise.
William watched a blast strike Elizabeth hard. Someone behind her fired back, but did little harm to those inside. A strong arm -- William assumed the Matriarch’s -- grabbed his wife and carried her away. The video grew weak, so Liz must have been hurt bad. Still, he heard Mary and Emily shooting at their pursuers. Somewhere in the middle of a long firefight, his wife recovered enough to blast, but not to fly, which effectively disabled Susan, who had to carry her. After absorbing several weaker blasts, a concentrated fireball smashed them from the sky. Even then, Liz tried to shoot the enemy as she fell.
William felt so proud of his warrior princess.
On the ground, they made for easy targets. He heard a short, intense fight rage above them, and saw bodies fall in the periphery of the recording. Mary, burned and bleeding, kept shooting until fire swallowed her. Even then she tackled the nearest Mongol, driving hot steel through his chest armor as others hacked at her. Then the wand showed Emily as she lay burning on the ground. Susan cursed someone, and the wands turned in time to see the master swordsman pulled twin blades of steel from her.
Liz now used the wands for propulsion, to get the Mongols away from her wounded family members. She shot up like a rocket using only her boot wands, not able to dodge or weave. She rose in an arc and fell as predictably -- suicide flights, some called them. She landed hard and, from the sound, probably broke her back. Still, the love of his life did not cry or beg for mercy. She pointed her wands at herself and yelled “kill them all, my love. Kill them all for me. I love you and have no regrets.”
Their last image showed his wife defiantly cutting her own throat. William had never loved her more than that moment.
Once he finished his first round of weeping, William made a mental note to tell Billy how Susan, Mary, and Emily fought when they could have fled. The last thing William wanted to do in life was die well. Living well is easy; dying well is hard. He took some comfort that his wife died well. She died like a Mongol.
William genuinely liked and respected Mongols. Moments like these reminded him why he also hated them so much.
Her death opened up a chasm so large that he knew he’d never fill it. He married someone so wonderful that she ruined him for other women. Like Billy, he now had a death wish.
William flew to the nearest Global Bank branch, sent a message to his American raiders, and transferred a ton of gold to American Jack in return for an updated list of the locations of Imperial Guard families. Then he visited several large Mongol cities to buy wands, clothes, and food.
Posing as a logistical officer, he paid cash for fruits, vegetables, milk, bread, and beef jerky to be delivered on specific dates at farms he rented just outside of his targets. Fliers thought it odd he painted large red X’s on the roofs. He bought ovens, stoves, large cooking pots, milk cows, wheat, grains, a lot of underclothes, and tons of salt. And, of course, all the wagons, horses, mules, and oxen on the market.
After all, he had an armada to feed.
Once Jack sent him the new list, he went to Peking and began a series of interviews with the Triad hierarchy. Triads started with the original goal of returning control of China to Chinese. After failing that, it had since degenerated into mostly a criminal money-making operation justifying itself with patriotic rhetoric. They remembered him, of course, and the son who paid them so generously.
A few dozen hardened street fighters, each carrying a large backpack full of mediocre wands, escorted William through a maze of back alleys to a small home where a dozen old men sat at a beautiful oak table. After ritual tea sipping and the traditional exchange of bland pleasantries, William handed the leader a memory stick. Despite looking so frail, the Triad projected a large image of William in a cave filled with Chinese cultural treasures, some millennia old. William helpfully recorded close-ups of the items in anticipation of this day.
“The Americans found these Chinese artifacts in the Mongol capital. They recovered thousands of old Chinese paintings, ceramics, pottery, and scrolls, which rot as we speak. They have no value in America, and they don’t have the connections to sell them in China. They don’t even have incentive to move them. One earthquake could bury them forever. Who knows what the intense cold in Siberia is doing to them right now? The Mongols don’t want the Chinese to know that their ancestors for centuries enjoyed the most advanced society on Earth. The ancient Romans thought they conquered the world, but the Chinese, at their peak, occupied three times the land and had four times the military might. I now offer you everything that you see in the cave.”
William could tell the guy wanted it all. Whoever returned these items would become a hero to every Chinese.
“Tell me why I can’t just torture you into revealing its location?” the Triad asked.
“Do you know how vast Siberia is? The Americans took me there in blindfolds, so I’ll need help just to find it. The snow changes the landscape every year, so everything looks different. It’s not like a city where you can give someone an address.”
Actually, they buried it all in a cave in a Manchurian forest rather than air-haul it to his fleet.
“And how much do you want?”
“The Mongol government tracks all benefits ever paid to members of the Imperial Guard and their relatives. That wand has a copy of that list, complete with addresses. I want you to bomb every property on that list, regardless of where they are, on the night of the next full moon. Cut off the heads of everyone in those homes. If you don’t bomb them all, then you don’t get the Chinese artifacts.”
“But they’ll avenge their families. This will re-start the war between the Triads and the Imperial Guard. It took two years just to correct our last misunderstanding.”
“Then you better kill them all.”
“Why do you want to kill Imperial Guards?”
“Because they all descend from either the Khan or his brothers, and I want Genghis to feel what I feel.”
The leader looked like a ghost. The old men spoke rapidly, talking over each other.
“How will you know we haven’t just bombed a thousand random homes?” one of them asked William.
“The news agencies will figure out the one thing they all have in common. You know how the Mongols love reporting facts and figures. They’ll count in grisly detail how many family members of the Imperial Guard have been beheaded. I know how many exist, so you better make sure you are thorough if you want the treasure. Beyond the obvious value, all of China will hail you as heroes.”
The leader had his eyes closed to read the list. “There are too many. It seems endless. What you ask is impossible.”
“Then get help or American Jack will tell the news agencies that the Triads are responsible for their heritage rotting in a Siberian cave. Your own crews will turn on you. All of China will treat you as pariahs.”
They didn’t even bother to disagree. William could tell they’d do it. They could not afford not to. Not that they were happy with the size of the task. One by one, they nodded their heads.
“Remember,” William said sternly, “not this full moon, but the first night of the next.”