ONSET: My Enemy's Enemy

by Glynn Stewart

  “He’ll kill me,” Paulson responded, his voice surprisingly calm and level for a man smashed into the ground. “You don’t know how far he’ll go, how deep his connections run.”

  “Maybe not,” David agreed, “but I know where he’s going to be today, and I swear to you, help me nail him to the wall and he will not walk out of the Conclave. There are places ONSET can keep you safe, places no army can penetrate, no demon can threaten.

  “Give me Dominic Langley, Sharif Paulson, and you will be safe.”

  Chapter 38

  The Conclave had been in session for almost three hours by the time ONSET Thirteen and Lord Riley finally arrived. A freshly printed warrant was folded into David’s suit pocket, and while his team remained in their MIB suits, Stone had picked up his machine gun somewhere along the way.

  Riley and Young also wore their swords openly instead of carrying them in portfolio tubes. Young wearing the blade to the Conclave was, as David understood, a serious violation of Elfin etiquette…but today, no one was going to care.

  Grim-faced Warriors greeted them at the door to the hotel, ushering terrified-looking hotel staff and guests out of the building.

  “This should be the last of them,” the senior Warrior told Riley. “Everyone outside the Conclave hall has been evacuated.”

  “Thank you,” David told him. “Remember,” he continued gently, “your people can’t stop Langley. The only people who can are going to be inside that hall. If he makes it out, let him go.”

  The Warriors looked rebellious, but Riley nodded his agreement.

  “There will be forty-five Elfin Lords and four ONSET Agents in that hall,” he pointed out to his people. “Langley is a Fifth Circle Master Mage; you might be able to stop him…but he also might kill you all if pushed.”

  “Omicron has the resources to chase him down wherever he goes,” David promised. “Even if he makes it out of here today, there will be justice. Do not do anything unnecessary.”

  “Yes, my lords,” the Warrior acknowledged. “We’ll secure the perimeter, make no sure no civilians are at risk. No one in the hall knows what’s going on yet—there’s nowhere between the hall and the bathroom where they’d expect to see people.”

  Leaving the Warriors to their work, David followed Riley through the luxury hotel to the main conference room, pausing and taking a deep breath outside the massive row of doors, all currently locked but one.

  “If they’ve kept to the schedule, Langley is speaking right now. Are you ready for this?” Riley asked.

  “To arrest one of the most powerful supernaturals in the United States for murder and treason?” David shook his head. “It’s the job. We do it.”

  “People like you are what restored my faith in Omicron,” Riley told him with a chuckle. “I haven’t been a cop in a long time, White, but I know what you mean. Let’s bring him in.”

  #

  The hall that the Conclave had rented for their meeting was an indoor amphitheater, with rows of seating descending to an open stage. Likely, the massive screen behind the stage was normally used for audiovisual displays.

  Today, the Elfin Lords had gone for simplicity. The podium had a microphone, and everything else was turned off as the men and women argued over whether or not to place their armed followers at the service of the US government.

  There was an exit behind the stage, but the Warriors had blockaded it. Three sets of doors opened into aisles that ran all the way down to the stage. David and Riley came through the center door, with Ix on their right with Hellet and Young on their left with Stone.

  All the exits were blocked. There was no way out of the Conclave hall except through David’s agents and allies, whose grim faces suggested that an attempt to exit would be unwise.

  “We cannot blame ONSET for their failure,” Langley was saying as David opened the doors and quietly stepped into the hall. “We barely gave them a week; can we be surprised that even the immense resources of the Omicron branch failed to find answers in that time?”

  Listening for it now, David could hear the ways the Lord’s speech attempted to instill the exact opposite reaction to what his words implied. Langley would say he had spoken in defense of Omicron, in favor of the deal…even as his words only highlighted Omicron’s failures.

  Langley noticed their arrival after a moment.

  “Lord Riley, Commander White, gi nathlam hí,” he greeted them. “Do you have news?”

  “I ask a point of order, hîrs, hirils,” Riley declared. “Commander White has learned the nature of our enemy, and as Lord General, I claim his right to speak in this space.”

  Langley opened his mouth to say something, but Riley cut him off, magic projecting his voice to every corner of the chamber.

  “I remind you, hîrs, hirils, that as Lord General, I am charged with the enforcement of our rules upon this Conclave…but that we remain subject to the laws of the United States of America.”

  The introduction had probably stolen most of David’s thunder, so he went straight to the crux of the matter.

  “Lords and Ladies of the Conclave,” he told them, practice projecting his voice without magic, “you have been betrayed. A member of this Conclave allied themselves with the Vampire Familias to destroy their enemies and bring you to reject this deal—as a negotiating tactic.”

  Silence filled the hall as David stalked down the steps toward the podium where Langley was staring at him in shock.

  “We arrested Sharif Paulson this morning and he has confessed everything—and provided documents, video and audio recordings to confirm his statements,” he continued.

  “Dominic Langley, you are under arrest for supernatural terrorism, murder and treason.”

  David’s words echoed in the silence and he stepped onto the main floor, approaching Langley with silvered handcuffs in his hands.

  “Ni avaquét!” Langley proclaimed. “In this hall, before this Conclave, I claim Ecet Sanye.”

  David had been briefed on that. “Sword Law” was the literal translation into English—but it meant trial by combat. Langley was demanding the right to face his accuser in battle.

  “You remain an American citizen and subject to American law,” David told him.

  “I demand the right to prove my guilt or innocence before this Conclave by the blade,” the Lord told him. “I’ll deal with Omicron in its own time, but for here, for today, I claim Ecet Sanye. Face me, Commander White, and prove your accusations with that daemon-forged blade you carry.

  “I demand it.”

  There was no way David was going to able to handcuff the Elfin Lord against his will, and the murmurings behind him weren’t positive. The Conclave might not disbelieve the charges, but he doubted they were going to help him arrest Langley, either.

  “Very well, Lord Langley,” he ground out, and stepped into the flat circle at the center of the amphitheatre. “Draw your blade, then, and let us see the righteousness of your cause.”

  #

  Power flared around David as he walked onto the floor, the Conclave working in concert to shield the building from what was about to happen. Ghostly flickering white flames rose in a perfect circle that contained both him and Langley in translucent walls. Chairs and tables close to that circle of fire floated away, magic clearing the space where the two men would duel.

  David removed his blazer, passing it back to Riley through a momentary gap in the flames. He left his shirt on, covering the enchanted armor he wore underneath it, as he drew Memoria. The leaf-shaped blade of the sword, forged in a pattern lost in the Bronze Age, glittered with its own internal red fire.

  Langley stepped down from the stage, tossing his own suit jacket onto the podium as he drew his sword. The elf-blade glittered with azure flame, lit with the power of its forging and the Elfin Lord’s magic.

  “Lord Langley, you have chosen the Ecet Sanye,” Riley’s voice announced. “Know that victory in this circle does not buy you immunity from secular law. This Conclave will
not bar your exit from this place if you win, but nor will we protect from the execution of Omicron’s warrant for your arrest.”

  “Get on with it,” Langley told the other Elfin, his voice bored. “Fill White in on the rules.”

  “Very well,” Riley sighed. “You are sealed within the flames, which will protect the outside world from anything done inside the circle. Any blade, weapon or spell that you carry is permitted. The flames will fall when one of you is dead or has yielded.”

  “You’ve met Commander White,” Langley said in that same loud, bored voice. “There will be no yielding today.”

  “You are very sure of yourself,” David said calmly, stepping forward into the circle. “Everything you have done has come crashing down. Killing me won’t change anything.”

  “True enough,” the Lord agreed, slowly approaching. “This was always a possibility, however, Commander. I assessed all potential consequences before I entered into this endeavor, and believe me, White, I have a plan for even this situation.

  “Unfortunately for you, it does require your death. I apologize for underestimating your persistence. Trust that I have not also underestimated your power.”

  “You can still surrender,” David replied. “You’ll have your day in court.”

  “And then you’ll execute me regardless. I have no illusions of the fate the Supernatural Courts would have in store for me. No, Commander White, this is how it ends.”

  The Mage attacked.

  Power flared through Langley’s body to David’s Sight, lines of azure light that laced over his skeleton and wove into his muscles as he lunged forward, a blur even to David’s Empowered senses.

  David parried, Memoria flashing in a tight, perfectly precise motion that put it exactly where it needed to be to knock aside Langley’s attack. More power flashed in the Elfin Lord’s aura and he struck again. And again.

  It was Andúril. The Flame of the West—a martial art built around the interface of magic, swordplay, and the human form. With the power of a Fifth Circle Master Mage behind it, Langley’s mastery of the form was impressive to watch. He moved with a grace and speed that even David’s own superhuman capabilities could not match.

  But David could see the future, and that half-second was enough. Each thrust, slash and lunge was parried in perfect timing, and he could see Langley getting frustrated.

  Finally, mastering the other Mage’s rhythm, he found a moment to strike back. His own strength and speed were far beyond human norms, even if he lacked the Elfin Lord’s magical power or trained skill with a blade.

  His own strikes were brutally efficient, delivered with speed and power but no grace. Even prescience wasn’t enough for him to evade his opponent’s defenses, though. For a moment, he pressed the attack, pushing Langley the way the Mage had pushed him, but the older man stopped every strike, evaded every blow.

  Then Langley returned to the offensive, now pushing David back step by step toward the circle of white flame. The ONSET Commander held his own—and then dove sideways as his prescience flared a warning.

  Blue flame hammered through where he’d been standing, waves of fire rippling off of Langley’s hands and sword as he unleashed his magic.

  David hit the ground and rolled, tucking himself around the sword with the ease of repeated practice. He landed back on his feet, almost at the other side of the circle—and his gun slipped easily into his left hand.

  The heavy Omicron Silver pistol bucked as he fired. He knew what the result would be even as he pulled the trigger, the silver rounds hammering into a dense shield the Elfin Lord conjured as the gun fired. A second burst suffered the same fate, and then blue fire smashed another gun of David’s to pieces.

  ONSET was going to stop issuing him the things.

  The incongruous thought brought a smile to his face as he parried a blast of blue flame with Memoria and closed the distance with Langley again. Swords clashed in the middle of the conference hall again, and blue fire flashed as the Mage tried to gain the upper hand.

  David dodged the fire and parried Langley’s sword blows, getting his own strikes in roughly every third or fourth sword blow of the Mage’s…but to no better effect.

  It wasn’t an even fight, not really—between his sword and his flames, Langley was attacking David easily six or seven times to each attack David returned, but neither of them was actually hitting each other. They could go around like this until one of them got tired…and David suspected neither of them was lacking in physical endurance.

  “You can’t win this, White,” Langley panted at him. “This ends when one of us makes a mistake, and you have so many more chances to do so.”

  David didn’t reply, dancing from parry to dodge to parry, living half a second in the future to stay alive moment to moment.

  But he heard Langley. And Langley was wrong: it didn’t end when one of them made a mistake—it ended when one of them took a hit.

  And taking a hit didn’t mean losing control.

  Moment by moment. Parry. Dodge. Parry.

  Then…something else.

  David dodged under a blast of blue flame, twisting forward in what looked like a mistake. Langley’s blade went exactly where he predicted and he turned as it came in, accepting the strike.

  Pain flared through him as the tip of the glowing blue sword punched into his left shoulder, penetrating muscle and bone…and then sticking as he turned, the blade trapped in the bone of his shoulder blade as he yanked it out of Langley’s grip.

  His own sword was already moving. Memoria flashed around at waist height with pitiless force and thrust clean through Dominic Langley’s stomach.

  The Mage’s power flared and collapsed as the soul-forged magic of the blade ripped through him and shattered his spells, his strength and his aura coming apart in fragments as Memoria crippled him magically.

  With a heave of strength, David threw Langley backward and stabbed the sword into the floor—with the Elfin Lord still impaled on it and now pinned.

  “You,” he gasped out, “are under arrest.” Pain wracked him again, and he realized he was bleeding profusely from his shoulder. Releasing the sword’s hilt, he put pressure on his own wound, even as blood began to seep out around Memoria and Langley stared up at him in shock and pain.

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.

  “You have the right to an attorney. Due to the circumstances of the charges, one will be provided for you by the court.”

  Langley’s wordless concession was apparently enough. The circle of white flame collapsed around them, and David looked up at the Conclave of Elfin Lords staring down at them in shock.

  “You also have the right not to bleed to death before your trial, so someone get me a doctor!”

  Chapter 39

  The sterile smells and beeping sounds of a surgery ward were familiar to David at this point, despite his regenerative abilities. The wound in his shoulder stubbornly continued to bleed, and he’d allowed Hellet to convince him to surrender to the tender ministrations of ONSET Oregon’s local doctor.

  Now he lay in the bed, watching as the doctor changed out the bandages on his shoulder. Despite his normal rapid regeneration, the wound remained, refusing to so much as clot closed.

  “We’re going to need to set you up on an IV,” Doctor Washington told him calmly, the dark-haired woman looking worried. “The clotting agents failed, Commander. You’re still bleeding freely. Pressure helps, but…we’re going to need to consider a transfusion if this keeps up.” She paused. “Our next step is cauterization, Commander.”

  “Have you seen anything like this before?” he asked.

  “There are at least two different supernatural creatures with venom that cause similar effects, yes,” she noted. “They are…difficult to treat. In your case, I suspect your regeneration will eventually kick in and slowly heal the wound. I just need to keep you from bleeding out first.”

  That was
a pleasant image.

  “I appreciate it, Doctor.”

  She busied herself for a moment and then slid the IV in to a momentary ouch.

  “We’ll keep it to saline for now, but I’m going to make sure we have some plasma on hand,” she warned him. “This is worrying.”

  David nodded his thanks, careful not to move enough to dislodge the bandages wound tightly around his shoulder.

  “You have a visitor,” Stone announced from the doorway. The big agent had been playing door guard since David arrived, machine gun and all. “Lord Riley is here.”

  “Send him in,” David replied.

  The Elfin Lord stepped through the door. He looked tired but pulled up a chair next to David.

  “The vote passed,” he said simply. “Five abstentions, none against. Elfin Warriors will be on the ground backing up ONSET and OSPI inside seventy-two hours. You…made an impression on the Conclave.”

  “Langley’s in cuffs, on his way to the Campus and a high-security antimagic cell,” David told him. “With a demon along for the ride to make sure he gets there. I think we won?”

  “You won,” Riley agreed. “You shouldn’t have, you know. He was an expert at Andúril, a Fifth Circle Master Mage. You are powerful as Empowered go, but he was faster and stronger than you. You shouldn’t have beaten him.”

  “Half a second of prescience makes all of the difference,” David replied. “Neither of us could touch the other. The fight was going to go to the first of us to take a hit. He might have been faster and stronger, but he was less willing to suffer for his cause.

  “I swore an oath, after all. I’m not entirely sure what Langley was fighting for.”

  “Power,” Riley said simply. “I doubt you’ll get anything useful out of him, but I think it was always about power for him. I knew he was ambitious, but given how far he’d risen, I honestly thought he’d turned that to the service of the Elfin. Certainly, he wasn’t going to take a hit, not even to bring you down.”