by Brent Reilly
CHAPTER 82
Genghis didn't know how long he had been looking up when he noticed others staring at him. Then he realized he heard something really faint, like a musket shot fired from the moon. Now he heard it, regularly like a heartbeat: someone was shrieking a friendly greeting from high altitude.
Warnings rang from multiple patrols and everyone suspected they had another suicidal -- some idiot eager to ruin the party. They’d barely feel a blast fired that high up. Still, he looked around for hidden dangers, and noticed his Imperial Guard doing the same. They had multiplied patrols for a few thousand kilometers out to detect large air units, but lone wolves still posed risks. One hundred thousand of the world's best quads, like those in the stadium, couldn't stop a single flier.
What the Khan didn't know is that 1) Billy’s fleet just anchored over the horizon; 2) that four fake Barons lured his big air units away; and 3) that two hundred fifty thousand marathoners were about to end the Olympics with a bang.
Dayan, his head of security, put a hand on his shoulder, something that few others dared. "You know the rules," he said harshly to deter an argument. Genghis grunted impatiently -- he didn't want to hide in his panic room during this incredibly important publicity event. "Why build an escape room if you won't use it?"
Still, Genghis hesitated. Then Dayan looked up, alarmed. The greeting not only kept coming, but grew much louder. Too loud for an ordinary suicidal. "Go!" Dayan barked at the greatest conqueror in history while opening a hatch below them.
Genghis reluctantly went, climbing down the stairs and hoping nobody noticed. Except that damn Indian in the arena. While everyone else searched the skies, the Indian's eyes never left him. The Indian cursed, covertly stabbed the silver and bronze winners in the back, then fired at Genghis while pretending to help Jirko.
“No!” the Khan cried out in despair. He just lost the most powerful Mongol he had left. Except maybe for Jirko’s prodigy son.
Dayan, facing the wrong direction, never saw the blast coming. Genghis yelled a warning, then dropped down the chute just before a huge fireball vaporized his most trusted descendent. Genghis bounced off a wall and smacked into compact earth.
So much happened so fast that he didn't even get the chance to use his wands to control his fall. When he finally got on his feet, he screamed in pain. He sprained an ankle, or worse. He didn’t even know if he could fly.
Genghis heard a familiar primal scream and climbed up to a spy hole to see the Indian face off against a guy in a bright red suit. No! The Red Baron here? Challenging the dueling champion? The bastard even spoke to the crowd before bowing to his opponent like in ancient honor duels. As well he should because one hundred thousand pairs of wands tracked him. The Baron wasn’t going to leave this arena alive. Oh, how Genghis would love to see two hundred thousand fireballs consume the Red Baron! His hatred of the man felt as immense as the vast grassy steppe.
The duelers positioned themselves in a fighting stance, then the Indian charged, shooting rapidly. The crowd swooned. Genghis, unable to believe his eyes, could not stop watching, even though he knew something was terribly wrong.
The Red Baron avoided the first blasts by flying up while flaming all four wands. Genghis still had a hard time believing it, but his hands wands extended fire for twenty-three meters. His personal best was thirteen and a half meters after hearing reports that Subodei reached thirteen. To get even that he had to kill thousands of tied up prisoners, transferring their wands while they died. But that was centuries ago. The best he could do lately was eleven meters.
Unimpressed, the Indian attacked aggressively until they slashed at each other with blades in the very center of the huge arena. Higher and higher the battle took them. The fight captivated the stadium, despite warning shrieks from distant patrols. Suddenly the Baron saw a shadow in the sky and released his infamous scream. Instead of fighting, the two duelers popped up, not three meters from each other, and engaged the Mongol patrols above them. Two guys attacking two hundred while two hundred thousand fireballs flew at them?
What the hell? Nothing made sense.
Then a series of explosions shook the arena, knocking Genghis back down his bolt hole. Thousands of explosives under the stadium stands detonated nearly as one, each many times larger than the contact bombs dropped by fliers. Millions of scrap metal flew in all directions as the Chinese who lit those fuses raced for cover. The earth shook so hard he bounced into the air. His ears ringing, Genghis had never experienced such a heavy bombardment before. He looked up from his hole deep in the bedrock to the thick metal walls above him. He flew to the ceiling and locked the heavy steel hatch from within.
I'm safe, he told himself, not quite believing it.
Hundreds of quads monopolized the skyscrapers with views of the arena. They were told to record the Khan at all times in case the Red Baron dueled him, yet were still shocked when the Baron actually showed up. From that distance, an Imperial Guard blocked their view of the Khan when the champion fireballed him, but he clearly had not flown away when the stadium blew up. And the Immortal certainly would not have survived the bombers who dropped serious tonnage onto the survivors. Much less when the attackers stabbed everyone in the arena.
They looked at each other in shock: Genghis Khan was dead!
As one, the witnesses flew off to report to various Chinese, Japanese, Taiwanese, Korean and Mongolian generals. Soon thousands of Chinese flew out across China to spread the video of the Khan’s death. The stadium explosion was like a rock thrown in a pond, as a wave of quads flew out in a circle to share the news. Bells rang nearby, and thousands more would soon clang across China. Every Mongol within a thousand clicks would have to fight for their lives today.
The largest battle in history began. Several million Mongols and their supporters fought several million enemies. Plus those in military units.
The arena survivors, ears bleeding and heads throbbing, barely noticed a dark cloud above that dropped thousands of bombs. Fifty thousand marathoners dived to finish them off and transfer their wands. Five divisions set up a perimeter to intercept Mongol rapid reaction teams, militia, and local police, while the rest struck targets in and around Peking. Billy knew thousands of Mongols would fly up in a mad rage at the invaders, which only made his job easier.
Prince led Billy to where the Khan escaped and explained, once again, that he saw the Khan descend into something. Quickly enough they found a wooden chute and, below that, a large metal box. Prince thought his twenty-year old brother-in-law may have a heart attack, he looked so distraught. Billy started babbling to himself, his eyes glazed over, so Prince slapped him, then backed up, not a little afraid.
“Now is not the time to get diarrhea of the mouth and constipation of the head,” he warned the Baron.
Billy finally cleared his eyes and, apparently, his head. "A panic room. The Immortal built himself a box to escape into." It sounded like Billy was trying to convince himself of what his eyes plainly saw. "The whole point was to kill the Khan. We knew exactly where he’d be, exactly when. And he still got away."
"Pull yourself together, man!" Prince barked impatiently.
Billy pounded on the steel. "My lord! Are you all right? The cowards fled. Everyone is chasing them down. Do you need help?"
Genghis recognized that voice, but couldn’t place it. It sounded like his kids when they are lying about something. I’ve met him, the Khan realized. I know the Red Baron.
He also realized that the Indian and the Baron worked together, knowing that nobody would be able to take their eyes off them. The warnings from numerous sentries fell on deaf ears. Since he himself fell for it, Genghis knew it was a great deceit.
Literally shaking, he got up and flew to a spy hole above the bedrock. He could not believe what he saw -- total devastation. Thousands of laughing enemies stabbed bodies and transferred wands. One hundred thousand quads -- the talent he
needed to exterminate the Americas -- all gone. Just like the Peking Arena.
And that's when it struck him like his father’s boot.
"You're that damn traitor, Temujin, aren't you?" he yelled. "The brat from the Olympics twelve years ago. I gave a beautiful speech at your funeral! I’d never have believed a descendent of Taran would betray his own people."
"I didn't descend from Taran. A pregnant ancestor married him after Mongols killed her husband. My ancestors died fighting you. You killed the first one over Peking in 1215."
"Do you even care that I exterminated Taran’s descendents? You know, you’re not the first true quad I’ve had to kill. You’re just the first to not descend from me.”
“True quad?”
Neither Billy or Prince ever heard that term before. Apparently it described the few who could use all four wands for fire, steel, and blasting.
“As for Peking, you mean that cocky Prussian? Of course! He was a baron, too. Richthofen, right? His mother Hildred caused me more trouble than he ever did." Genghis, despite everything that happened, now laughed viciously. "You descended from Karl van Richthofen? The jokes on you then, because Baron von Richthofen was my bastard son. The baroness sought me out because she wanted a powerful son. Well, I gave her one, only to have the turncoat grow up to lead thousands of quads against me in China. She wanted me to marry her. Ha! Like I’d give up Borte for a cranky bitch like her. She was all beauty, zero gratitude."
"Liar!"
"She proudly put me on his birth certificate. Look it up."
“I’ll ask him. He’s fighting above us right now.”
“What? Now you’re the one lying!”
“He changed his name to American Jack. Perhaps you’re heard of him,” Billy yelled.
“That traitor is still alive?” the Khan roared incredulous. The irony is that Genghis never targeted American Jack because his weak tactical skills killed more enemies than Mongols.
Billy felt overwhelmed. He could not think clearly and therefore needed to buy time. “How ironic that your only surviving son is your biggest enemy. Consider this a final family reunion, grandfather.”
“I descend from this mass murderer?” a shocked Prince asked in disbelief.
"So, Genghis, you're my ancestor?” Billy said, trying to figure how to break into the panic room. “Does that make me Mongolian after all?"
"This changes nothing," the Immortal yelled back. "You killed my woman, so I’ll kill you and yours. I don't care how many babies you have -- I’ll kill them all if it takes me eternity."
They say Heaven is where you have nothing to do and eternity to do it in, so this must be Hell.
Billy turned to Prince. "Take a team to the Forbidden City and kill the Khan's family."
"I heard that,” Genghis screamed, “you son-of-a-bitch!"
"What are you gonna do, yell at me?" Billy screamed back, nearly losing it. He knew he hated Genghis Khan with all his soul, but he never let it consume him so completely before. His head hurt and he really needed to pee.
If Genghis Khan fathered American Jack, then all of Jack's descendents were also the Khan's. As were his own kids. Billy felt sick. He not only had the Khan’s blood, but polluted thousands of babies with it. Though his mind was a fog, he knew he had to kill the mass murderer now while he had the chance. He flew down to where the steel wall disappeared into the bedrock. Collecting all his strength, he punched a short blade into the metal, causing a short gash. He repeated it a dozen times until exhaustion stopped him. By that time he had a small crowd wondering what the hell he was doing.
"Uh, Red, more Mongols are coming."
"I need more time. The Khan is in there. Do we have any bombs left?"
"Why would we not drop them all? And what do you mean, he’s still alive? The bells are ringing. A million battles are raging in the streets.”
Given his stressed out mind, Billy couldn't think of anything Genghis could do to save himself, yet something nagged at him that The Immortal would somehow survive.
"If you come out, I promise you a fair fight," Billy yelled into a hole, but didn't get an answer. He flew to the top, punched more holes, then blasted straight down. He searched for a dead body through the smoke. What the hell? He squinted to see, to his horror, the entrance to an underground tunnel.
Billy fought his way up, out of the rubble, and saw, a few hundred meters from the stadium, a store made of mortared stone built like a fortress. He ignored the fierce dogfight raging above him. He flew to it and found an oak door still open, but nobody inside. He rushed in and saw the tunnel's exit. Panicking for the first time in his life, he flew to the Forbidden City and found several of his troops gathered around a body. The richly dressed corpses must be the Khan's family, quad warriors who may have fought like tigers, but were no match for his brother-in-law. Yet it was his brother-in-law laying in a pool of blood.
"Prince was cuddling two crying babies when some Mongol stabbed him in the back, took the babies, and fled. Some of our guys are chasing him, but he's pretty fast."
“That was Genghis Khan.”
“Weren’t you suppose to kill him?”
Some of the guys recorded Prince's final moments, while others waved wands to heal his back. One of them looked at Billy and shook his head negatively. Too much internal bleeding.
"We should have given him one of our new suits," someone said, which only made Billy feel worse since he didn't think of that, either. Prince had been dueling for months in Peking, and so couldn't make it to Anchorage. Better back armor may have saved his life.
"I never saw him coming," Prince whispered. "I'd be alive if I killed the babies, but they reminded me of my own.” He pulled Billy close so no one else could hear. “Jirko didn’t have his Millennials on him, so he must have given them to his son, who has the same name. They say the kid is even better. And when the Khan took my Millennials, I saw his wands clearly. They weren’t Millennials.”
That rocked Billy. “Genghis gave away his most prized possession?”
“You have three sets of Millennials to find, brother.”
Billy knew his brother-in-law was in terrible pain. "I'll get him for you, and make sure your children know what a great hero their father was."
"You're the hero," were Prince's final words.
“Don’t say that! You don’t even like me.”
Prince laughed, despite blood flowing from his mouth. He clearly thought that funny. He made eye contact with Billy and died with a big smile on his face.
Which really pissed Billy off. Who the hell dies happy? Every version of his own death, that he imagined, ended horribly.
Billy broke out in tears, which shocked the troops. Through his blurry eyes he saw Princess, not Prince, dying before him, which flipped a switch that let the crazy out. The image of losing his wife was more than he could handle. Too much happened too fast. His brilliant plan failed, and millions of the wrong people were about to die because of it.
Billy had never felt overwhelmed before.
With the Khan still alive, the Chinese wouldn’t attack from the south, the armada in Korea wouldn’t attack from the east, and the air force now attacking from the west would return home, leaving the Americans and his marathoners to face a few million Mongol quads. What Billy needed was time to think things through, but his grief shut his mind down.
“How am I gonna tell my wife that Genghis Khan killed her twin?” Billy cried out, on the verge of an emotional meltdown.
TO BE CONTINUED…
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I need you to read the exciting sequel, The Deadliest Wands, coming in 2015! Please post reviews online and tell your friends on Facebook and Twitter to get this ebook while it’s still free. And thank you for supporting a struggling writer.
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