Persist (Discipline Book 3)

by P. S. Power

  “Do you want me to leave the door open for the others? Is it all right that I just walked in?”

  “Yeah. That’s the plan. What time is it?” He saw her head turn, to look at the clock he was too lazy to glance at.

  “Three-seventeen. I need to get some sleep. Everyone is going to be late tomorrow, I bet.” She moved away then, patting his chest first, as if they were much better friends than they really were.

  He managed to sleep after that, if not well. Clark didn’t wake him up, but was clearly part of the field in the morning. Mags was curled up next to him when he woke up, which was interesting. Mainly because they were in her bed. It was bigger, making the whole thing more comfortable, but he’d gone to sleep in his own, he was certain. That probably meant that she’d carried him over, not wanting to be alone. It was both cute and kidnapping, all at the same time.

  Luckily for her, he found that marginally funny. He was starving, but everyone else needed to sleep more than eat, so he let them, just going over the morning meditation routine on his own, in the living room. That meant everyone could find him when he was finished, standing and looking around, as if the world were fresh and new. He felt tired, and a bit like someone had ripped chunks out of his insides when he wasn’t looking, leaving an empty space, but the others didn’t speak to him. They just moved through their own morning, or in this case early afternoon, cleaning rituals. Then, after they were all tidy enough, Mags moved to him, holding him tightly for a bit.

  “That wasn’t great. I hear that you’re in trouble?”

  Ben nodded, not actually caring, but getting why it was going to happen. He didn’t actually have a right to call in a retreat like he had. Especially since there would be footage of him telling Dave to fake it all up. It was the right move for the time, but when the others found out, they’d probably be pissed off. It was too bad, really. They couldn’t afford to keep taking losses like they had been.

  In two real engagements, they’d lost eleven people. That wasn’t going to work, since at least some of the coming attacks would require them to be there, in order for things to work. They didn’t even have enough people for that, really.

  The tricks that he’d used to get people out of the way had done the job, but it wouldn’t if there was no one there to engage the terrorists. Less than a block in any direction would have given the enemy plenty of people to kill. As it was, Ben had to guess that in the next action, or the one after that, was what they’d do anyway. Use the mech armored fighters to stall the fighters meeting them and have the Swarm scatter to kill people. It was what he would have done, and would probably work better, over all.

  “Whee. I’m going to eat first, then. I bet they bust me down to Private. Sigh.” They weren’t military, and Clark at least grinned about the idea. Then, he was a bit of an old movie buff, so got the reference. The others might as well, but it didn’t seem funny to them. As if it were a real threat.

  All things being considered however, Ben pretty much filled that rank already, for their organization. They couldn’t imprison him, kick him out or even dock his pay for that one though, he was willing to bet. So that left whining at him, and trying to act all tough. Like they were going to beat him up for saving lives.

  He didn’t eat fast, still feeling like he was about to pass out half the time. The food helped, once it hit his system, thankfully. Ben had been worried that he’d done real brain damage the night before, using his powers like he had. That was clearly not a healthy thing to do. The others wisely didn’t go with him for his dressing down, when he went below, to the main office area. Along the way, since he was opened up again psychically, he got the privilege of living through six different versions of what people had planned for him. Finally, on the last one, he nodded, and got himself into Kyle’s office, the man glaring already. Glenda was there, along with the black woman who was always nice enough, but who he didn’t know yet.

  Janine. She smiled at him at least. She was always pleasant that way.

  “Mr. Epson. There’s been a bit of an issue… Would you be free to talk about it? I think we’d all understand if you didn’t wish to, but there have been some complaints from the field team about being called in like you did?” She seemed to be trying for polite, which was nice of her. Kyle had spent the early part of the day being yelled at about different things, so was already on his last nerve, even if most of it had to do with the Cymeds not telling everyone else enough about the attacks, even though they’d done more than their part. It wasn’t fair, but blaming them for the lack of military action made sense.

  To the bureaucrats that ran things. Not to anyone else, Ben was willing to guess.

  He’d had some time to plan out what to say however, so nodded.

  “Our current losses are too high. We had unarmored people on the ground, and while they’re good, they were also dying. If they would have stayed, we were going to lose three more people and we can’t afford that. So I got them out of there. In the future, if that happens again and I tell them to leave and they don’t immediately I’ll…” He glared, faking it as well as he could. Everyone was on edge enough that him doing that got them to take a mental step back, just like he’d been shown in the visions. Except that in most of them he’d been abused for about an hour, everyone feeling like things were his fault. Acting that way, even if it wasn’t true.

  Blame normally went downhill, so he was basically pretending to be a speed bump.

  Kyle looked annoyed at him, and tried to glare a bit, but Glenda just seemed like she was tired and didn’t really want to bother with all the yelling and screaming that suddenly seemed like the only possible outcome.

  The gray haired man, who was dressed identically to him and Glenda, looked away.

  “You think you have the ability to order people around in combat? Or the skill set for that? You don’t.”

  Ben nodded then.

  “Fine. Get someone else to do it for me then. The fact is, I can see what’s happening, and while some of the others can too, I was the one there, watching it at the time. If you don’t like the way I saved our people’s lives, then maybe it’s you who needs to not be in charge? We’ve lost what, five percent of our people so far? Ten? At least of the ones we can actually send out. We have thirty-three more actions taking place in the next four days, Kyle. In over half of those hundreds or thousands of people will die. A lot more than that without us having at least one person on the ground. I know, people felt like their warrior panties were pulled down, having to run off, but that was the right move.” Ben tried to act like he was certain and confident, but he was, in the end, just himself.

  So it didn’t really work.

  That didn’t mean he was wrong however, which Kyle noted, as he rubbed his face.

  “I know. There’s no good way through this. I could do without everyone constantly thinking I don’t know my job, however.” He was a bit miserable seeming, and angry, but didn’t sound abusive. This time.

  So Ben let himself chuckle a bit.

  “Sorry about that, but it was point it out this way, or have two of you screaming at me for half the afternoon. The next attack is in… Fifteen minutes. My guess is that what we did yesterday will cause them to change their plans. I was able to get people, the victims, to not show up. That won’t really work again. Not that we can’t try. I don’t have as much time now.” Due to people acting like he wasn’t doing his part, or whatever they were thinking.

  Janine, the one that had a computer link in her body, probably her head, smiled at him. It was a little blank, and her mind showed that she was monitoring computer information, a remote feed, at the same time.

  “On the good side, after this last attack, we have a bit more backup from several government agencies. What we don’t have is any people on the ground. This time it’s happening in China, so we couldn’t get anyone in place in time.”

  Ben didn’t know about the politics exactly, but it sounded about right.

  China was huge, a
nd strong enough that no one wanted to mess with them as a political entity. They also liked to push their weight around, if they felt like others weren’t listening to them well enough. That meant they weren’t going to let some Americans come and tell them how to fight terrorists.

  That was a shame, since it meant that two things happened. Nearly two thousand unarmored men died in the first few minutes, as Ben watched helplessly, and the armored troops they had stood by in near helplessness, as the attackers spread out, just like he’d figured they would, attacking in a vague wave that traveled over half a mile, being loosely chased by people that didn’t really know what to do, other than keep firing at the brown mechs’ backs. Most of whom didn’t go down at all from it.

  It showed that the tactics could be changed on the fly however, since Ben hadn’t seen that one going down that way the first time. There hadn’t been any unarmored troops, for one thing. Not that they could have told China it was stupid to send them in. Ben had to guess that they’d worked that part out on their own, now.

  The next attack was in Africa, and went better, in an odd way. The local leaders told everyone that some American witches had warned them of an attack, and the vast majority of people just ran, scattering far enough away to stay safe. Believing what Ben had told them. That was nearly the last victory their side had for a while.

  In the end, the plans kept changing, and some of the locations did too. It was a real fight to get the military and police to change locations when that happened. They were told that an attack would come in at a specific point and then, ten minutes before, that would change. Normally not to a spot too far away. Ben tried to be fast and accurate, but to make it all work they ended up sending their own people into the field, until he, Mags and Lissa were the only ones left. Clark was actually a good fighter, and mentally more stable than the rest of them. Not that he could take being in combat for long, being there first hand.

  Though he, when Ben tried to get him to run away, simply did it. That drew the Swarm along behind him, but away from the people that were being attacked, meaning that it was pitched battle between some local cops who had piss poor training for armored combat and the terrorists, but that the civilian death toll stayed low.

  Glenda tried to fight, being stupid that way… Until a civilian man showed up at her battle. In that particular fight there was no one else. No backup at all, and Glenda was pretty certain she was going to die. Ben stood right by her, as she fought, her heavy pistol making booming sounds that would have deafened him. The thin man that seemed to walk out of nowhere smiled at her, and tried to hand her a letter, of all things.

  One written on paper. By hand, if Ben was getting things right. That was far from certain, since the man, after saying a few words and running when told, like a sane person, started to shoot at the Swarm, and armored forms that were after them.

  Only he didn’t have a weapon, and just pointed his empty hand. To devastating effect. Things, people and robots, went down. Eventually he did something really different however and vanished, leaving Glenda alone.

  ~Run. Get out of there. The people are safe. Go!~

  It was clear she didn’t want to do that, but she did it anyway, after only a few encouraging threats from Ben. He felt her moving, traveling faster than he could by about five times. Her muscles operating flawlessly as she out distanced the Swarm and the soldiers with them. All of them from other worlds, if Ben was right about that.

  Different realities.

  Why they were doing what they were didn’t make any sense however, but he was able to read a few of the fighters, finally. Before that there hadn’t been enough time, but this, for a while, should be the last wave of attackers. They’d lost more people, and the military units even more, but the terrorists had more dead than they did, if the few times people foolishly sent in unarmed troops didn’t count. They did, but Ben was willing to jump through mental hoops if it meant they hadn’t lost horribly.

  It still didn’t make sense. If anyone were trying to take over, they’d need to do a lot more damage, and to focus on one place at a time to start with. They were mainly trying to produce fear. The soldiers from other worlds knew that much, but didn’t seem to understand why either. They were there to fight though, and followed their orders, since the alternative was just dying.

  In the end, all of them, even the dead and dying, had been removed from each battle site. It wasn’t perfectly done, and some of the Swarm were captured, as well as a few dead bodies, in armor, but it was almost all of them, each time. They certainly didn’t have anyone left to talk to about it all.

  The men and woman in the suits didn’t seem to hate them at all. It was, for most of them, just their job. They went and fought, and even died, so that the people back home would have the funds they needed, and be safe. Mercenaries, though of a different sort than Ben was used to hearing about. What he did pick up was that several of them didn’t really understand the armor they were in. To them it was magic. Not just a vague thing that seemed magical, due to science, but the real deal. Magic was how they made sense of things like that. How the same thing would have operated where they came from.

  Which didn’t help them much.

  Ben had known that the fighters weren’t from their world. To start with they had been, but Ben had used that against them early on, so the plan had shifted on him. Each time he thought he had something clever, it did. The enemy, whoever they were and whatever they wanted, was good at that.

  It was powerfully frustrating, but on the great side, it wasn’t truly his problem. Mainly due to the fact that the entire world was aware of what was coming now. They could, and would, fight. That most of them were going to die if they tried was obvious. He got that part, when everyone else was back, about two days later. Ben had spent all of his time training to run away, since there was no one to work with him and on the regular morning meditation exercises. Nothing new had come in about a fight happening, probably due to how heavy the losses of the other side had been.

  Ideally it would mean that they’d given up, but that didn’t feel too likely.

  On Tuesday night, after the evening meal, almost everyone met in the Recreation Center. It wasn’t an official thing, but about eighty people showed up for it, the word having been passed. Ben’s chair was taken when he got there, which made him narrow his eyes a bit at the woman that had stolen it. Probably thinking that it was hers. Not that he was going to fight her over it. She was huge and that was a bit too petty for him to actually engage in.

  It was Bethany that had called them together, and instead of a virt, or entertainment, they were treated to a live feed. It was a twenty-four-seven news channel. One of the bigger ones, Ben thought. The people talking seemed worried and edgy, but hopeful

  “Here, look at the footage. People are fighting back against this threat. Men and women. We aren’t helpless.” There was a plea to the words from the man who spoke. He was older, and had lines on his face, under the heavy makeup.

  About half of what was being played showed their people, in civilian dress, going into hand to hand combat with people in mech armor. The style of fighting was, distinctive, funny, and circular, with a lot of throws and snapping motions, but it still worked pretty well.

  Some of the people were just regular though. One was just a kid, who couldn’t have been older than fourteen, using a board to fend off about a hundred of the Swarm as the people he was with ran away. Ben kept waiting for him to die, the thing clearly being recorded, until he remembered it happening.

  That showed on the projection, which got him to blink a few times. Even if what showed was actually correct.

  The boy was about to go down, about twenty of the silver death bugs going for him at once, when a skinny guy with hair that was a bit too long stepped into the picture and waved his hand at the flying things. They smashed into the pavement, and then the boy ran, when the man, who wasn’t that old looking, yelled at him to.

  It was over fast and no one else se
emed to notice. Not until it happened a few more times.

  Then Mags stuck her tongue out at him. She took his hand though at the same time.

  “Show off. I didn’t know that you’d show up on camera like that.”

  Neither had he. It only happened when he used his telekinesis though, which hadn’t been often. A few more times than he should have, but letting people die just didn’t feel right to him. Not if all it cost him was pain in exchange.

  The rest of the people seemed to not care about that. The important part was what came next. When the President spoke, clearly at a press conference.

  “Yes… The Cymed group is working with us directly. It’s part of a joint effort, being overseen by the Department of Homeland Security. They’ve been invaluable so far, as I’m certain you’ve all noticed. Our hope is that, with a bit more understanding of the situation, we’ll be able to field effective fast action troops where needed, so that they don’t have to go into combat themselves.”

  There were more questions, but it seemed to be that the President was trying to get them out of the fighting. Really hard, actually. It even felt like he meant it as a kindness, not just to seize control from them, like he would have suspected the man of doing.

  Ben didn’t think that was going to happen yet, but most of the others were upset for a different reason. One that annoyed him a bit when he picked it up, moments later. Not everyone felt it, but there was a real consensus in the room on the topic.

  They weren’t feeling appreciated enough.

  Which was insane. After all, they weren’t there to work with the feds, or to be given awards, or accolades. They were supposed to be taking the government down. It was like he was the only one left that remembered that.

  One little terrorist attack, or thirty, and everyone was suddenly willing to fly a flag and go all in with the very people that had gotten most of them to sign up in the first place. Ben didn’t see that as a good thing, and could only hope that they weren’t really losing focus that easily. If nothing else, he wasn’t going to let himself do that.