by Mel Odom
Simon hoped so. He turned back to the deer he worked on. His knife blade slid easily through the flesh, and he focused on his work.
“Simon,” Danielle called softly.
“Yes.”
“We’ve got trouble.”
“What?”
“We’ve identified a small group of Ravagers coming from the east.”
FOUR
L eah sighted the Poseidon in on the Blade Minion that was only now yanking its spikes from the young engineer’s corpse. She had no doubt that Baker was dead. If he wasn’t at this minute, he would be before someone could get to him.
And the demons would get to him before any of the team did.
Calm down. Do your job, she told herself.
You got him killed. You took your eye off him long enough for that demon to get him.
The crosshairs wavered over the Blade Minion’s chest.
People die in this business. Leah’s first handler had told her that the first day she’d met him. People die in this business. It’s what you hire on to do. Whether for patriotism or money, and for your sake I hope it’s both, people die. Hopefully you’ll help us keep the balance sheets in order.
That day they’d just gotten the body of an agent back. Her handler—he’d been code-named Winder and she’d never found out his real name or anything about him—had shown her the young man’s body. He’d been brutally tortured for weeks. At the end, he’d been decapitated.
The exfiltration team wasn’t able to save this poor bloke, Winder said. They certainly weren’t able to pull his body back into any condition we can allow his poor mum to see. But one thing they were able to do before they brought him home.
Leah had waited. She’d been scared to death and mad and sickened all at the same time. She didn’t know how she was supposed to act, and Winder had given her no clue.
Before they left that despicable little African nation, Winder had said, they balanced the sheets. That tinpot warlord is wormfood now. He stared at the young man’s body. Sometimes in this business, that’s all that you can hope for: that someone will balance the books for you when you’re taken from the board due to your own bad luck or inadequacies.
Leah had stood silently there and stared at the body.
Go on and tell yourself that this will never happen to you, Winder said. Tell yourself that you’re that good or that lucky. Maybe you’ll even believe it. At least for a while. But some night, whether in the safety of your own bed or in some transient hotel where you’re hiding out under another name and risking all you’ve got on an op you don’t fully understand, you’ll realize that this will happen to you.
Leah had tried to wall herself off from the sensory overload of the dead body. In addition to the horrific sight, the smell of death crowded the small coroner’s room.
He’s going to be quietly buried, Winder said. No glorious homecoming for him. And do you know why?
Shaking a little, Leah had shaken her head.
Because MI-6 can’t claim him, Winder had said. The Queen has to disavow him. His mum won’t even know how he got himself terminated. And isn’t that a lovely word for it? “Terminated”?
Leah had said no, that it wasn’t.
Winder had laughed. Maybe you’ll make a good agent then, missy. You don’t come in here singing “God Save the Queen” and spouting patriotic nonsense, maybe you’ll live longer. He sighed. This boy, he got sent to his death. Given an impossible mission. But it pulled his killer out into the open so the exfiltration team could take out the target.
That thought had horrified Leah.
Winder must have seen her reaction on her face at the time. She hadn’t learned to hide them so well back then. Now, she felt certain, he would never have known how his announcement struck her.
Then Winder had laughed at her. Don’t take it so bloody personal. He was doing his job. That’s all anyone ever asks of you here. Only sometimes they ask you to die. Not a very pretty thought, is it?
No, Leah had answered.
Well, that’s what you’re signing on for. Winder had patted the cheek of the amputated head. He was a good boy. Never asked any questions. He did everything right. Even died right. You can’t ask anything more than that. He’d paused and looked at her, still smiling incongruously. And do you want to know who was callous enough to send this poor sod off to die so painfully for his country?
Leah hadn’t been able to answer.
Do you know what kind of person it would take to do something so bloody awful? Winder had asked.
No, she’d said.
Me, he’d told her in that same soft voice. I sent him off to be tortured and finally executed by the cold-blooded bastard that did for him. Just so we could flush out the warlord that was our real target. What do you think about that?
Leah had gotten sick then. Winder had directed her over to a basin and she’d purged. When she’d finished throwing up, he’d washed her face with a warm cloth. The reflection of the dead agent had been in the mirror above the sink.
And if it comes time to do it, Winder had said softly, I’ll send you to die, too. Don’t you ever think I won’t. Every time I send you out the door, you have to realize that you might not be coming back. Knowing that is the first thing that’s going to help you stay alive.
Four months later, Winder was gone. No one had ever said what happened to him. Leah had asked once, and she’d been told that the question wasn’t allowed. She hadn’t asked again.
Leah pushed the bitter memories away. She’d known what she’d signed on for. She just hadn’t ever expected demons to be involved. Her imagination had only limited her to terrorists and enemies of state.
And the young agent had known what he’d signed on for as well.
She raised the Poseidon’s crosshairs from the Blade Minion’s chest to its horrid face.
Don’t try to be a hotshot, her range instructor had always taught her. Aim for the center of the body mass. Head shots are for American cowboys and trick shooters. You’re neither. You’re a killer, and you’re going to be the best killer I can make you.
Leah squeezed the trigger. The sniper rifle recoiled as it launched the bolt of spectral energy. The Blade Minion jerked sideways as the energy struck it in the temple. Visible damage through the sniper scope was limited to charred and bloody flesh. It didn’t show the havoc created throughout the demon’s central nervous system.
When the rifle’s sights were centered again, Leah pulled the trigger through once more. This time the demon’s head imploded. The creature dropped to its knees, then fell forward across the body of the young agent.
Leah took a deep breath and cleansed her mind. She couldn’t control all of the events taking place on the playing board. Too many moves were beyond her. In the overall scheme of things, she—like the young agent—was just a small cog.
“Blue Team and Red Team,” Commander Hargrove called over the comm, “signal readiness.”
The loose translation of that, Leah said, is to signal to let everyone know you’re alive. “Blue Scout ready,” she whispered just loud enough for the subvocal mic in her mask to pick up.
As she watched, the battlezone shifted. Several of the blue and red lights on the map open to her view winked out. She guessed that their casualties had run close to a quarter of their number so far.
“Courier remains viable,” Commander Hargrove announced. “We are still a go on this op.”
“Affirmative,” Leah answered, knowing that the commander’s comm team would still expect a response. “Blue Scout is a go.” She continued firing as she found targets.
“Prepare for delivery,” Hargrove ordered.
“Affirmative.” Leah locked on another target and fired again. A Darkspawn demon dropped in its tracks.
“Blue Scout,” a man’s voice called. “This is Firefox Courier.”
“Ping Firefox Courier,” Leah said. Immediately a four-man group lit up on her computer-generated field of vision.
Firefox
Courier was second in the line of explosives experts. There were four groups in all. Each group carried satchel charges designed to take out the demonic weapons plant.
“What can I do for you, Firefox Courier?” Leah asked.
“We’re pinned down by sniper fire. You’re the closest countersniper we have.”
Leah shifted her attention to the buildings around the O2. She tracked enemy fire back to five snipers. The blazing light from the demons’ weapons made finding them easy.
“Firefox Courier, Blue Scout confirms five snipers,” Leah said.
“Five sounds about right.”
“Are you intact?” Leah focused on the closest sniper in one of the nearby buildings.
“We’ve got wounded,” the Firefox Courier officer replied, “but we’re still up and about.”
“I’ll see if I can make some room for you.”
“Awfully generous of you.”
Leah focused on the Darkspawn sniper, got the creature’s timing as it leaned forward again to fire, then squeezed the trigger. She aimed for center mass and saw the demon spin sideways. Before it could recover, she shot it in the head. The demon went still and slumped to the floor.
The second and third Darkspawn snipers went down just as quickly, and without knowing they were being fired on till it was too late. When Leah locked on to the fourth sniper’s position, she discovered the demon had cut and run. Ignoring him for the moment, she moved on to the fifth sniper’s position.
This time as she locked on, she saw the demon sniper had also locked on to her. The Darkspawn sniper’s head was squarely behind the heavy rifle it held. Knowing she was at most a heartbeat away from death, Leah locked on to the demon’s sniper scope and squeezed the trigger just as something whizzed within inches of her head.
The Darkspawn’s sniper scope went to pieces, and its head snapped backward. The demon slumped without a sound. Electrical energy slammed into the corner of the rooftop only a couple of feet from Leah’s position. She ducked back, tracked the shot mentally, and knew that the sniper she’d passed on earlier was back in the game.
After three rolls, Leah spread her elbows and came to a stop in the prone position. The Poseidon speared before her, and she moved the rifle into line with the Darkspawn.
On the ground, Firefox Courier was already on the move. The men and women of the unit stayed low as they raced for the O2. All of them wore heavier armor over the blacksuits and carried satchel charges filled with arcane-charged plastic explosives.
Leah found the final sniper as the Darkspawn swung back into position around a window frame. She aimed for center mass, not trying to do anything more than hit the target, and squeezed the trigger.
The first charge knocked the Darkspawn backward, sending its weapon flying as it flailed its arms and tried to stay upright. The second charge turned its chest into a pulped mess of shattered bones and ripped organs.
“Good shooting, Blue Scout.”
“Thank you.” Leah looked for additional targets around the explosives team. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the shadow coasting across the rooftop toward her. She rolled again and heard the Blood Angel’s shriek as it tried for her. Then the demon’s heavy claws thudded against the rooftop and left gouges.
Get up! Leah shoved herself to her feet. Enemy fire from the ground tracked her. One of the Darkspawn fired a rocket launcher, and the warhead smashed against the side of the building in a roiling mass of orange and black flames.
Heat washed over Leah as the concussive wave drove her from her feet. She fell into a controlled roll and got to her feet again. When she glanced over her shoulder, she spotted the Blood Angel streaking for her again.
The Blood Angel had a feminine form and human intelligence. Leathery wings stretched to ride the wind. Crimson runes gleamed on the demon’s dark skin. This time the Blood Angel threw its hands forward and unleashed spectral bolts that missed Leah by inches and tore holes in the building’s roof.
Leah leaped over one of the holes that suddenly opened up in front of her. She landed on the shuddering rooftop and barely managed to keep her balance. Fear spiced the adrenaline already racing through her system. Blood Angels were some of the fiercest demons that had poured through the Hellgate. Having no choice, she dropped the heavy sniper rifle and ran toward the building’s edge. With the Blood Angel after her, no place atop the building was safe.
When she reached the building’s edge, Leah propelled herself outward. She thought she screamed at that point, but she hoped she hadn’t because that would have been embarrassing to be heard over the comm. In the next second, though, panic assailed her as she started the long fall toward the street.
FIVE
A chill breezed through Simon as he considered the Ravagers approaching from the east. Ravagers were at the low end of the mental spectrum of the demons, but they were definite threats. They lived to kill, and they always hunted in packs.
“If you’ve picked up a small group of them advancing on us,” Simon said, “you can bet it’s not the only one.”
“I am,” Danielle said. She’d been heavily blooded in the killing ground over the past four years. She’d trained all her life to be a Templar and had excelled in bladed weapons.
“Patch me in.” Simon stood and surveyed his HUD view.
“Confirm upload of incoming information?” the armor AI asked.
“Yes.”
“Streaming now.”
As Simon watched, a window opened up in the upper left corner of his HUD. The view was a thermographic display of nine warm-blooded entities arranged along the ridgeline overlooking the hunting ground.
“Confirm preliminary identification of demon entities known as Ravagers,” the suit AI said. “Size and general characteristics, including internal body temperature, match known values.”
Simon booted the feed onto the other Templar harvesting the deer. They all grew silent and turned in the direction of the approaching demons.
“They’re waiting,” Nathan said.
“Yes.” Simon clamped the knife back onto his armor. “Grab the deer that you can manage and let’s get out of here.”
“Run from a fight?” Campbell, one of the younger Templar, demanded. “From demon scum?”
“If we can,” Simon said, “yes.”
“We’re here to kill the demons,” Campbell protested.
“We’re not here to get kacked by them, mate,” Nathan replied evenly. “You’ve not been in any battles with demons.”
“That’s not my fault,” Campbell replied. “I’ve been willing.”
There were a lot of the Templar that hadn’t been yet blooded against the demons. Simon tried to keep the young ones out of harm’s way until absolutely necessary. Too many of the young, untried Templar found their way into early graves despite their training.
“There’ll be plenty of time to fight,” Danielle said before Nathan could reply. “And plenty of demons to fight. The main thing you need to realize right now is that Ravagers never hunt unless they outnumber their prey.” She paused. “If we see this many now, there are more out there.”
Simon draped the deer’s body over his left shoulder. He gripped his main battle sword and freed it from the sheath across his back. The blade gleamed. Forged of palladium and steel, the sword was over three feet in length, double-edged, and straight as a ruler. The cross guard was solid and heavy, scarred from past battles. Runes along the blade held in the eldritch forces Simon and his father had beaten into the metal when they’d forged the sword.
“Over here,” Trent said softly.
Simon accepted the additional feed patched into the HUD. Eleven Ravagers closed in from the north. Only a moment later, Linda Estep reported seven more to the south.
All three groups converged on the Templar.
“They’re trying to box us, mate,” Nathan said.
“Ravagers aren’t this methodical.” Simon jogged easily to the west, the only direction currently open to t
hem. “Someone’s guiding them.”
“Too bad they didn’t get to shut the door before we picked up on them,” Nathan said.
Simon brought maps of the surrounding countryside up onto the HUD. The transparent overlays didn’t block his vision. He’d trained since he was a child to separate the different video and audio input streaming to him at the same time. The Templar at the shelter he had put together four years ago stayed in the field nearly every day. Over the past few years, there wasn’t much they didn’t know about the lay of the land.
Problems lay to the west. The land turned steep and treacherous there. Hillocks became cliffs sixty and seventy feet high, above valleys of broken limestone.
The Ravagers acted as though they knew that.
“Bring the group together,” Simon ordered. “We’re going to try to break through to the south before they herd us to the cliffs.”
The Templar gathered. Simon and Nathan took point. They stayed twenty feet apart and stretched their long strides into a distance-eating run. The onboard gyros kept Simon’s gait smooth. He had the Ravagers on his HUD now. They were close enough that he no longer needed the piggybacked feeds from the other Templar to sense the Ravagers. Despite the speed possible in the armor, the demons closed the distance.
As he ran, Simon tried not to think of all the meat they’d left hanging from the trees to spoil. The deer had died for no reason, and the people at the shelter were going to go hungry soon if something weren’t done. The whole turn of events offended him.
“Hostile forces one hundred twelve yards away,” the suit AI informed him.
Simon used the light-multiplier programming built into the armor’s optical array. The utility leached the color from the scene ahead of him and turned everything black and white with an undercurrent of green. The human eye was capable of detecting more differences in the color green than in any other color of the spectrum.
The seven Ravagers stood out against their surroundings. Their bodies were black as ink, heads too large for the narrow shoulders. They stood almost waist-high on Simon. As they traveled on all fours, the demons reminded Simon of crocodiles. Their tails, almost as long again as their lean, powerful bodies, switched back and forth in anticipation.