by S. C. Stokes
Sanders tossed the useless pistol off the back of the machine.
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Kasey shook her fist in frustration. “If we don’t remove that trigger, it’s going to go off. That piece of steel will shatter the cylinder and whatever that black powder is will mix with the blood and detonate. We’ll all die. There is no getting away from here in time. We must disarm it. How do we get the damn thing out of there if it melts everything that touches it?”
“Carefully,” Sanders replied.
Reaching into the vessel, Sanders avoided touching the blood as he tried to gingerly lift the cylinder by carefully holding the flat ends of the glass trigger. Each time he touched it, it simply bobbed beneath the surface.
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“Sanders, it’s not working,” Kasey said, breathing hard.
Sanders slipped, his left index finger grazing the surface of the blood. He screamed as he yanked his hand out of the solution. His finger glowed red and began to darken. Soon, the entire pad of his finger had turned pitch black.
Sanders bit down to keep himself from screaming as his finger rotted before his eyes. Tears welled up in his eyes at the pain.
“Noah!” Kasey gasped as Sanders’ flesh melted off the bone.
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“It’s too late,” Kasey muttered. “This can’t happen.”
She leaned forward and raised her hand.
There’s no other way. I have to just grab the cylinder.
She locked eyes with Sanders.
He shook his head. “Kasey, no!”
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Sanders lunged for the vessel; his fingers wrapped around the glass trigger. Ripping it out of the solution, he hurled it as far as he could.
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The trigger struck the stone floor of the tunnel and shattered, spraying black powder everywhere.
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The display flickered out and went dead.
Sanders dropped to his knees. His screams echoed along the tunnel as the flesh of his left hand began to darken and blister. Kasey couldn’t look away. The flesh of his hand sloughed off, leaving his hand bare to the bone. He writhed in agony.
The agent standing beside Kasey doubled over and vomited over the edge of the tunneling machine.
Kasey had a much stronger stomach, but the sight of Sanders’ ruined hand was making her feel queasy. Sucking in a deep breath to settle the worst of it, she crouched down beside Sanders and examined his hand. She paused. Everywhere his hand had come into contact with the solution was dissolving. The flesh was gone, and now the bones were crumbling to dust before her eyes.
“Kasey, be honest with me, how bad is it?” Sanders panted through the pain.
“I’ve seen worse,” she replied. “You’re still with us, and you’re not going anywhere. Why did you have to go and do something like that, you damn fool?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Sanders replied, grinding his teeth so hard Kasey could almost feel it.
“That it did. We beat him, Sanders. You’ve destroyed the weapon and as soon as I make sure you don’t bleed to death on me, I’m going to make him pay for all of this. Your hand, John, Arthur, the bomb, and every life he has taken to get it here. He’s going to pay for everything.”
“You’ll have to beat Hades to it. Good luck with that,” Sanders said, trying to smile between heavy pants of agony.
Kasey took hold of his arm, but he bucked in pain and cried out.
Turning to the agents, she called out, “Hold him down. We need to cauterize the wound before he bleeds out.”
The surrounding agents clustered around Sanders and pinned him down by his arms and legs.
Crouching over his arm, Kasey pat him on the chest. “It’ll be okay. I just need to see what we’re dealing with.”
He nodded, his lips pressed together in a flat line.
She examined the wound. The solution had eaten straight through his hand, leaving it as a bloody stump just above the wrist.
As she studied it, the depth of his sacrifice struck her. By reputation, Sanders was one of the greatest combat mages in the world, but in spite of everything he had traded his hand for all of their lives.
Kasey fought back a tear. He wasn’t going to bleed to death in her arms. She wouldn’t let him.
After tearing strips off Sanders’ shirt, she gingerly wrapped the stump of his arm. The bleeding slowed, giving her the time she needed to take more lasting action.
Holding both of her hands over his ruined hand, she chanted, “Gwella!”
Her hands glowed, and a radiant golden light descended from her fingers, gently bathing Sanders’ wounded arm.
Closing her eyes, she focused all of her will on the task before her. She was never gifted in the healing arts but knowing what she needed to accomplish she poured her soul into it. Her understanding of the human anatomy helped her fill in her deficiencies with the healing arts. Channeling arcane energy into Sanders to bolster his flagging reserves, she cauterized the wound, sealing the severed blood vessels, and soothed his tortured nerves.
She did her best to still her racing heart, but even as the energy flowed through her, she could feel every beat as it pounded away in a chest.
Why did you have to do that? It should have been me. Stopping the attack was my job, my mission. Don’t let him pay the price for it, please.
Kasey pleaded silently as she guided her healing enchantment, pouring as much of her strength into Sanders as she could.
Closing her fist, Kasey opened her eyes. Sanders was lying dead-still against the cold steel of the machine.
She gently shook his chest. “Sanders!”
Sanders didn’t move.
She checked his pulse. It was faint, but still there. Leaning down, she pressed her face close to his.
Her heart leapt as his shallow breath puffed against her cheek.
Oh, good, he’s still alive.
For a fleeting moment, she’d worried that she’d botched her healing efforts. It was more likely that the pain had finally overcome him.
She got to her feet. “It's okay. He's going to be okay.” Her voice was shaky, and she hoped that she sounded a lot more confident than she felt. “Now that we’ve stopped the device, we need to get him back to the surface. He's weak but he’ll live. He’s in no condition to walk so, Henley, you’re up. You can ditch the backpack. It's no good to us now. You’ll have more precious cargo.”
Henley nodded and reached up, waving for Kasey and the agents to pass Sanders down.
Together, they gingerly lowered Sanders off the back of the boring machine and onto Henley's shoulder. It was a less than glamorous mode of transportation but there was no other choice. Sanders wasn’t going to be walking out of the tunnel on his own and Kasey had no intention of leaving him behind.
Kasey turned to the remaining agents. “Alright, with Sanders down, I’m going to need you to follow my lead. You two, stick with Henley. Don't stop till you reach the outer police cordon. When you get there, requisition a car and take him straight to the Administorum. Don't let anyone get in your way. If you encounter any resistance, put it down, with extreme prejudice.”
One of the agents nodded. “Sure, Chase. No worries, you can count on us.”
“Alright, Henley, take it away, but go easy with him,” she said. “He matters more than you know.”
Henley raised an eyebrow at her.
“He’s the most important wizard in my world. He heads the Arcane Council. Your world and mine are still coming to terms. There will be conflict, and we’re going to need a leader who can help us negotiate these trying times. Sanders is the man we need in charge, and for that to happen, he needs to survive today. You hold on your shoulders our hope for peace an
d prosperity. Nothing else matters, do you understand?”
“No pressure,” Henley replied. “I'll get him there.”
He turned and, with Sanders on his back, began working his way back up the tunnel, flanked on either side by agents of the ADI.
Kasey watched them a moment, then shook her head. “Okay, now that Sanders is safe, I need four of you to stay behind and render this weapon inoperable. There is still enough C4 to do irreparable damage. We need to separate it from the device. Sanders may have prevented the trigger from detonating, but this tunnel is far from stable. We need to ensure that the C4 and the blood never come in contact with each other. Do you understand me?”
The agents nodded.
“You saw just how dangerous that solution is. Don't touch it, under any circumstance. I just need you to remain behind and remove the C4. Take turns and ferry it back up the tunnel, away from the fault line. I know it'll take time, but it’s important. We can't leave it undetonated by the fault line. Take it in shifts, one block at a time, and get it back to the subbasement. The technician from the bomb squad is still there, he’ll ensure that it is disposed of.”
“What do you want us to do with the blood?” the sandy haired ADI agent asked.
Kasey looked at the scarlet liquid swirling about in the glass containment chamber. “That vessel isn’t going anywhere. It’s bolted down, and besides it’s too dangerous. As soon as you’ve emptied the C4, put the doors back on the chamber and seal it permanently. We’ll deal with it later, or we’ll bring the tunnel down on top of it. Either way, we can’t risk it falling into the wrong hands. The rest of you, we’re heading for the surface. We may have stopped the device, but the architect of this madness is still on the loose. Akihiro needs to pay for all of this.”
She climbed down off the tunnel boring machine and dusted herself off. Leaving the four agents to deal with the explosives, she counted those at her side. Of the contingent that she and Sanders had led down into the catacombs, only a dozen remained.
She hoped it would be enough.
She took a deep breath. “Agents, let’s move out.”
The agents followed her as she led the charge back toward the surface. Any moment now, Akihiro would realize the device had failed to detonate. When he did, there would be hell to pay.
As she moved, Kasey wondered how the Master of the Shinigami would respond. Would he make a run for it? Somehow, she doubted it.
The Master may have fled the council chambers when his identity had been revealed, but that had been when his plot was still viable, and he’d carved a bloody path through the chambers on his way out. He was relentless. With his plot ruined, there was every chance he was on his way to the weapon right now.
“Keep your eyes open, everyone,” she called. “If Akihiro doesn’t run for his life, he’ll be gunning for us. We need to be ready.”
They reached the site of the Shinigami ambush. There were dozens of bodies. In her haste to find the weapon, Kasey hadn’t even realized how many agents they had lost.
Good agents.
She picked her way through the carnage. They deserved better, but it would have to wait.
“Chase, I think this one’s still kicking.”
Kasey turned to find a wiry young agent in his thirties, with a shaggy mop of brown hair, nudging one of the Shinigami acolytes with his foot.
The body stirred, its hand reaching out as it struggled to rise.
Kasey walked over and looked down at the wounded acolyte. Raising her gaze, she caught the agent’s eye. “Then put him down. Only a few minutes ago, they were trying to slit our throats. If you let him back up, he’s only going to try again.”
The agent scrunched up his face. “Put him down?”
“With a bullet,” Kasey replied. “And be quick about it.”
“Execute him?” the agent replied. “I can’t do that.”
“Oh, don’t give me that. It’s only been a matter of days since the Arcane Council was ready to kill me, and for a hell of a lot less,” Kasey said. Pointing furiously at the fallen agents, she continued. “These are a dozen of your comrades, lying here, in this hellhole because of him and his kind. How are you going to feel if one of them kills the agents we’ve left behind to disarm the weapon, or worse yet, triggers the weapon themselves? Put a bullet in him, or give me the gun and I’ll do it. Either way, we have no more time to waste.”
“When you put it like that…” the agent replied. He raised his pistol and fired twice. The Shinigami bucked as the bullets struck him before collapsing in the dirt.
Kasey patted the agent on the back.
“Glad we’re on the same page.” Stepping over the body, she continued up the path. Pausing, she looked over her shoulder. “While you’re at it, put one in all of them, just to be safe. No half measures.”
Gunfire rang through the tunnel, as Kasey continued her upward march toward the basement.
Chapter Fourteen
Clearing the basement, Kasey raced up the stairs. She could feel the fatigue starting to burn in her legs, but she pushed on. Until Akihiro was caught, there could be no rest. The Master of the Shinigami would not simply quit, and right now the entire strike force was in peril. “Chase, we have some movement here on the ground floor. The elevator is on the move,” a voice crackled through the comms.
“Roger that. We’re on our way right now,” Kasey replied, as she leaned over the rail and looked up toward the surface. There were only a few flights left to go. “We'll be there in less than a minute.”
She bounded up the stairs as quickly as she could force her legs to carry her. Footsteps behind and below her in the stairwell told her that the ADI was doing its best to keep up.
Her comm came to life again. “Bishop, here. Kasey, I’ve got movement here too. I’m looking at Park Avenue. It seems every sixth floor is a maintenance floor. They’re open to the elements to reduce sway. It should be empty and sealed but we can see movement up there. Someone is up there. What’s more, they have the advantage of height. We can’t stay here. We’ll be pinned down and exposed. It will be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Roger that, Bishop. Go to ground and keep your eyes peeled. We’ve defused the device, but Akihiro is going to be on the move. I doubt he’ll give up so easily. Ground floor, be ready to give him hell. He can't be allowed to leave the building.”
“Too late, Kasey,” the agent on the ground floor replied. “I think he's here.”
Kasey’s heart skipped a beat, her hand shaking as she gripped the rail and pulled herself upward. “I'm almost there.” She panted, racing up the final set of stairs and onto the landing.
As she reached the ground floor, the elevator doors opened, and Akihiro stepped out.
The Master of the Shinigami did not bother with any illusion now. He was dressed in a simple silk robe that was cinched with a simple obi. His jet-black hair was drawn back into a top knot. At his waist hung the blade that he had used to kill both John and Arthur Ainslie. Compared to the heavily armed strike force lying in wait, he looked positively defenseless.
Looks can be deceiving, Kasey reminded herself.
The look on his face made Kasey’s hands shake. His thin lips were drawn, his dark eyes narrowed on the strike force before him. His chest heaved slowly with each breath. His barely contained rage was palpable. Around his neck dangled the same medallion she'd seen in the Arcane Council chambers. The personal shield enchantment had allowed him to walk unscathed through a storm of fire. The amulet radiated a sickly green glow; it appeared its energy had been replenished since the skirmish in the Council Chambers.
Kasey shouted, “Fire!”
The strike force of assembled agents, Helldrakes, and police officers opened fire on the elevator. The noise was deafening as dozens of submachine guns and assault rifles poured a withering storm of lead at the Master of the Shinigami. He raised his hand and the ward at his chest glowed the same haunting emerald hue as when he had drained the life out of John A
inslie.
Hundreds of bullets pounded into the protective barrier, but the shield stopped them dead in their tracks. The only sign of any impact was the disheartening pitter patter of the lead striking the ground as they dropped harmlessly to the floor. The pile of lead grew steadily, but Akihiro stood unphased.
What’s his plan? Why isn't he attacking?
The fusillade weakened as the strike force began to run dry. The furious din grew still as spent magazines were ejected and discarded.
“Keep it up. No shield can last forever,” Kasey shouted. “As soon as it runs out, he's a dead man.”
Akihiro turned until he was facing the stairwell. His eyes glimmered as they locked on Kasey.
“Oh, Miss Chase, you are as persistent as you are irritating,” he said. “I'll give you that. Losing John wasn't enough for you? Haven’t you had enough? I spared your life in the Underpass. You should have taken it and run. Instead, you’ve thrown it away. You are a foolish little girl.”
Kasey’s hands shook with rage. “Let me live? You ran for your life, you coward. Now your device is destroyed, and your plan is ruined. All of that planning, all of the time you spent masquerading as Arthur Ainslie, what have you got to show for it? The city is safe and so is everyone in it. So, you can kiss your immortality goodbye.”
Akihiro bared his teeth. “Ever the optimist, Miss Chase, you don't have what it takes to understand the forces at work against you. For centuries, wizards have been forced to live in the shadows pretending we don't exist. All so these insecure insects we are unfortunate enough to share a world with don't get trigger-happy and decide to try and slaughter us again. Is that all you think this is about? Simply killing a few normals?
“True, the weapon might bring us immortality, but it will also grant us enough power to ensure no one would ever be able to withstand us. In one swift motion, it would destroy this city, the financial heart of this country, and plunge it into chaos and anarchy. Think of it—the world's greatest superpower brought to its knees in a single day. The normals will be too busy quarreling among themselves to fight back. Now you’ve given them hope and turned on your own kind. It’s only a matter of time before they move against us.