Ranger

by William Stacey

  Boko extended her arms to the side, and gale-force winds slammed into them from below. The wyvern screamed a primal cry of rage and struggled into the wind.

  They leveled out moments before smashing into the ground and soared over the camp and its huts, speeding toward the high fortress wall. Alex glimpsed shocked dark-elf faces below, hands pointing at them. His legs smashed through the roof of a shed, shattering it and sending him spinning again. Veraxia was trying to gain altitude to get over the oncoming battlements, but they were too low.

  Crossbow bolts snapped past, whipping through the air. Veraxia cried out, pulling on the reins and leaning to the side, his wife clutching at her waist. Boko was no longer channeling wind but instead gripping the saddle horn with both hands. The wyvern banked and tucked its wings in as it sped toward a wood-covered gap in the broken wall. A moment later, it smashed through the wood, and they shot out over the rubble-strewn field. The wyvern cried, a stuttering roar of triumph, extending both wings once more, now less than ten feet above the field.

  "Drop now!" Veraxia yelled, but she must have somehow released the entire net, because he and the others were already falling.

  They slammed into the ground, flipping over, entangled together in the net, arms, legs, and everything else thudding into one another. Then Alex was free, rolling along the ground. Pain lanced down his back, through his knee, then his back again as he finally came to a stop, lying face up and staring as the sky spun madly. He was still alive.

  Well… how about that?

  When the sky stopped spinning, he rolled over and climbed onto his knees, patting himself down. Nothing felt broken. The liquid body armor must have saved him from injury. He wiped dirt from his visor, suddenly realizing in alarm that his rifle was gone, the strap snapped. Cold fear washed over him as he grasped at Witch-Bane's hilt, his panic only receding when his fingers brushed over the sword's familiar hilt in the scabbard. His 9mm pistol was still in its shoulder holster, and he drew the weapon now as he staggered to his feet, checking its action. Lee and his men were nearby, helping each other to their feet. The other men were still carrying Leela's weapons, and Lee still had Kargin's weapon belt.

  Leela!

  He spun and saw her, Boko, and Veraxia beside the wyvern, which now lay upon the ground, its wings pulled in tight against its torso. Its head was lowered before Veraxia, who ran her fingers along its long neck as she whispered into its ear holes. A crossbow bolt had impaled one wing, and blood dribbled from the wound. Veraxia gripped the bolt and drew it free. The wyvern cried out but remained in place.

  Neither Leela nor Boko seemed hurt, and Alex ran to his wife and caught her in his arms. "You okay?"

  "Fine, I'm fine," she said breathlessly. "You?"

  He stepped back, nodding, still amazed he was in one piece. "Believe it or not, I'm fine. I don't think I'm ever taking this MR armor off again."

  A horn cut through the air, coming from the fortress, less than three hundred meters away, and the large gates opened, disgorging hundreds of enraged dark-elf warriors with a dozen or more trolls, sunlight flashing from their weapons. Scores of hellhounds raced ahead of the mob, fire trailing from their jaws.

  "Run!" Alex yelled.

  "Fly free, brave hunter," Veraxia said as she slashed at the wyvern's saddle straps. The wyvern rose onto its hind legs, its mighty wings beating, buffeting them with dirt and dust as the beast rose into the air. In moments, it climbed away, soaring over the city's ruins, heading toward the jungle.

  Veraxia turned to Alex, a smile on her lips. "I told you she was strong."

  "Brag later," Alex said as he gripped Leela's elbow and pulled her along with him.

  They bolted away over the field, the enemy rushing after them. On their left, a couple hundred meters away, sat the ruins of an old complex, a collapsed mansion with broken stones and crumbling pillars. If they reached it, they might hold the high ground. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him the hellhounds were gaining quickly and that they'd never outrun the beasts. He let go of Leela's elbow, spun, and drew Witch-Bane, holding both pistol and sword.

  "Keep going," he yelled. He braced himself as a group of five hellhounds charged at him.

  When they smashed into one of Leela's invisible barriers, coming to a bone-crunching halt, he knew his wife had already made her decision.

  More hellhounds bounded past those who had crumpled before Leela's barrier, and Alex calmly opened fire, possessed by a strange serenity. He put three rounds right into a canine forehead with a three-inch grouping, shattering the hellhound's brain. It might have been the best shooting of his life. Others surged forward.

  Lee joined him, firing Kargin's hand cannon and dropping a hellhound with a single shot. Rifle fire rippled past as another of the soldiers joined them, sending another hellhound stumbling to the ground in front of Alex. He drove Witch-Bane's point into its skull, finishing it.

  Chain lightning arced between the next three hellhounds, frying them, but a fourth leaped over the others, its feral eyes locked on Alex. Before he could shoot, ice formed over it, freezing it in midair. The hellhound thudded to the ground, its ice-covered eyes bulging. Boko stepped past him, sending more ice-storms at other hellhounds. But more hellhounds came on, with the enemy warriors running behind them.

  Alex aimed at a dark-elf woman, thinking she must be a mage. When he fired, her upper torso disintegrated into a red mist, and a thunderous boom shook the air. Alex stared at his 9mm pistol in confusion.

  A gateway flashed into existence on their left, less than fifty feet away. Six war rigs rushed through and fired their miniguns and grenade launchers. Then a volley of rifle and machine-gun fire crackled past on their right, and Alex saw the muzzle flashes of dozens of weapons—rifles and squad machine guns among the rubble a hundred meters away. A moment later, he saw the soldiers with their active camouflage lying prone, engaging the enemy in their flank with enfilade fire—from both flanks, the war rigs on the left and at least a platoon of infantry on the right.

  Huck came back! His legs almost buckled with relief.

  Liv "Long Bow" Nilsdottir stepped out of the gateway before it vanished, and opened fire with her arm-mounted needle launchers, shredding dozens of the enemy warriors with her razor-sharp darts, using her telekinetic magic to send each dart into an opponent. Another boom reverberated in the air, and Alex realized it must be Ylra firing her Light Fifty. A troll fell spinning, a gaping hole in its armored chest that Alex could have shoved his arm through.

  The Strike Force must have been hiding among the ruins for hours, watching the fortress and waiting for an opportunity—a chance Alex and the others had given them by bringing the dark elves out into the open—right into a kill zone.

  "Down! Take cover, you damned idiots!" Huck's voice, augmented as if by a bullhorn, echoed over the battleground.

  Veraxia stood as the others dropped, covering the backs of their heads and necks with their arms. Huck had spoken in English, Alex realized. He charged her, intent on knocking her to the ground. Instead, he rebounded from her as if he had run into a wall. He lay on his back, staring up at her as she looked upon him with confusion. The onslaught of gunfire picked up, interspersed by multiple explosions. Shrapnel winged through the air.

  "Get down!" he mumbled in her language, grasping at her leg.

  Understanding dawned in her eyes, and she dropped beside him, staring wide-eyed as the Strike Force ripped the dark-elf army apart. The battle was one-sided, and less than a minute later, the surviving enemy—only a couple dozen—broke and fled for the safety of their fortress, leaving behind hundreds of dead and dying warriors, trolls, and hellhounds. A minigun cut through a fleeing troll, leaving nothing behind but the lower torso. The legs ran on two steps before falling. The shooting stopped.

  Smoke, explosive residue, blood, and the stench of voided bowels hung in the air, the silence bizarre after the chaos a moment earlier. Then the cries of the enemy wounded drifted over the battlefield. Alex and V
eraxia rose.

  Veraxia stared at the carnage, shock on her features, her eyes wide with wonder. "I was wrong and right. You are nothing like the fae—or any other race."

  Huck, First Sergeant Martinez, Ylra, and Captain Shapiro approached, supported by a squad of soldiers. Another section of infantry moved through the battlefield, tending to the wounded. Other Strike Force members provided security.

  Huck and the others reached Alex and Veraxia at the same time as Leela, Lee, and his men. Boko ran to Liv, and they embraced. Two of Huck's soldiers leveled their rifles at Veraxia. The dark elf must have understood the danger, especially after this massacre, but there was no fear in her golden eyes, only wonder.

  Alex stepped before her. "Easy, guys. This is a friendly."

  "Cuff her," Huck said. "We'll work out 'friendly' later."

  "It's okay, Veraxia," Alex said in her language as one soldier produced handcuffs. "Just go with it for now. I'll explain everything."

  She snorted, glancing down her nose at them, then sniffed and held her wrists together for the cuffs. A soldier escorted her away.

  Huck faced Alex, flicking the switch on her helmet to raise her visor. She watched Alex with hard eyes before turning to Lee. "Report, Captain."

  Lee snapped to attention. "Three dead, ma'am. Wilson, Adams, and Harper."

  "Kargin?" Asked Ylra.

  "Watchmaker… Kargin was taken yesterday after… after they murdered Adams. They flew him and Snow White's rig to the dark-elf queen."

  "Shit," said Ylra, her face turning pale.

  "Here, Ylra," Lee said, unbuckling Kargin's weapon belt and handing the large pistol and fighting ax to her. "He'd prefer you carry it."

  Ylra strapped the belt to her waist, her face flushed.

  "What about your keying device?" Huck asked.

  Lee shook his head. "I imagine it went with Kargin and the rig. They were waiting for us. Snow White tried to open an escape gateway, but her gear malfunctioned. The enemy overran our position. I'm sorry, ma'am. I failed you."

  Huck squeezed his shoulder. "No, you didn't. I'm damned glad to have you back, Captain. We're going to need you. I'll have the doctor examine you and your team, then get some food in you." She glared at Alex. "We have a long walk ahead of us."

  Lee hesitated, no doubt aware of the thick tension between Alex and his commanding officer. "Ma'am, without Alex, Leela, and… and the friendly dark elf, we'd be on our way to the queen right now. They saved our—"

  She turned to her first sergeant. "Take them to Dr. Ireland. I want to be Oscar Mike in an hour."

  "Yes, ma'am," the grizzled veteran said, gripping Lee's arm and pulling him along before grabbing Boko and the other two soldiers. No one voiced a word of resistance.

  "Thank you for trying," Ylra said to Alex, placing a hand on his chest.

  He patted her hand. "I'm sorry. I won't give up on him."

  "I know."

  "Ylra," said Huck, "I wonder if you and the others might give me a moment with Major Benoit." Her tone was anything but a request.

  Ylra walked away, but he saw the challenge in his wife's eyes. He shook his head. "It's fine. Make sure no one shoots Veraxia."

  Leela moved away, her face reflecting her indecision.

  Once they were alone, Huck removed her helmet and mesh hood, exposing her short, sweat-damped hair. She pulled two cigarettes from a pack in her pocket and lit them both with a lighter before handing one to Alex, smoke trailing from her mouth. "Had to turn off your radios, didn't you? Shame. We could have warned you to take cover."

  He sighed, took a quick drag, and choked. In his entire life, he had smoked maybe three cigarettes. "Didn't know you were a smoker."

  "Field smoker. Started after we realized the bullshit stunt you pulled. Borrowed these from Santiago, my first sergeant. He's the one you need to worry about now. He can't get any more cigarettes out here, and I think he's gonna kick your ass. I think I'm gonna watch him. Should be fun."

  "I couldn't do it, Huck. I promised Cassie."

  "We used the last of our crystal's energy getting back here and setting up that ambush." She shook her head in disbelief. "You know, we were one jump from our destination. One goddamned jump. Now we're gonna have to leg it through that jungle and river then walk across a desert. Way to go, Alex, way to go!"

  Alex deserved this, but it still hurt. "I had to, Huck. I couldn't leave them."

  "Well, you succeeded—mostly. Four out of seven ain't bad. Makes you sixty percent a hero. Of course, now we're going to lose more people walking through a hostile alien jungle filled with monsters, but you kept your word to a hysterical wife. Although if we don't make it, it won't matter because the entire human population is toast—but hey, you got to do your own thing."

  "It's… complex."

  "Not that complex." Silence hung between them as they finished their cigarettes. She threw her butt onto the ground and crushed it with her boot. "All right. Let's try to recover what we can. I'm happy to see Lee, Boko, and the others, and wish to God you could have rescued Kargin, too, but it is what it is."

  Her gaze scanned the battlefield. Those of the enemy that could were already back inside their fortress, the wooden gates closed once more. The wounded they had helped were straggling away, helping one another.

  "What now?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "We can't both be in charge, Alex. This isn't your command."

  "I know that…"

  "You promised me you'd back me up, but then you play the renegade hero. So I'll ask again. What now?"

  "I can only give you my word… again."

  She snorted, her lips a tight gash. "You a jungle-warfare guy, Alex? Must be if you were Task Force Devil, right?"

  He removed his own helmet and mesh then ran his hand through his hair. "All the task force selectees took an extensive three-month course in Schofield Barracks in Hawaii. I also spent a six-month tour with USSOCOM in Central America, counter-drug ops. I know my way around a jungle."

  "Good. This jungle follows the river north for twenty, twenty-five klicks before it reaches a savanna and, according to Ylra, the only bridge and pass through this cliff face, the Spine of the Serpent, for hundreds of kilometers. The pass leads into this Char Desert and another thirty klicks. How long to cut through that much bush would you say, jungle warfare expert that you are?"

  "Primary or secondary jungle?"

  "Like I know."

  "A while then." He made some worst-case calculations. "Say fifty hours in total. Only ten hours a day because we need to stop while we still have light. We're looking at five days of trail-blazing."

  "Five days?" She sighed. "We've food and water for two."

  "We can drink the river water—as long as we purify it first. We won't starve, but we'll lose weight and time. It'll be hard, especially when people get hurt, and they will get hurt. If we luck out and find primary jungle, that'll speed things up. But why go at all? The crystals recharge."

  "It may have escaped your notice, but we just fought a pitched battle—second time I've saved your ass—so I'm not sitting here waiting for the enemy to come back in strength. Next time, it'll be several hundred dark-elf mages on those giant flying lizards with a thousand trolls as foot soldiers. No. We're moving into the jungle in an hour, two at most, heading north for this bridge."

  He bit his lip and nodded. "Okay. What do you need?"

  "Talk to my team leaders first. Give them the benefit of your vast experience."

  "Sure. No problem."

  "Good." She turned away then paused. "Do your fucking job this time, ranger."

  24

  Alex and Ylra stood before about two dozen Strike Force officers and senior noncommissioned officers, Huck's platoon commanders, team leaders, and specialists, including Dr. Ireland. Most held field message pads with pens ready to jot notes. Behind them were the three mag-sens—Leela, Boko, and Liv, who was still wearing her rig. Huck, Captain Shapiro, and First Sergeant Santiago Martinez
stood to the side, watching. Ylra had already repaired Alex's and Leela's visors, ripping out the fried central processing chips before popping in new ones and rebooting the software. Alex depressed the button, raising his visor, and considered the fresh, frightened faces staring at him, wondering if he had ever been that young.

  "Okay," he called out, speaking loudly enough for everyone. "You know who I am and my background. I've broken trail through more jungle than I care to remember—on our world and this one. Let's get one thing clear: the next few days will be a ball buster. If you get cocky or let your people get lazy, someone will die."

  "He's got the truth," Ylra said. "There's a reason dwarves avoid the jungles: they're full of things that want to eat you. And the critters that don't want to eat you will kill you for the savage joy of it."

  Alex continued. "Jungle warfare courses run for at least a month. We have fifteen minutes, so all I can do is give you some best practices. It sucks, but you will learn by doing. If you keep calm and make sure your troops drink lots of water, you'll come out okay.

  "First lesson—command and control is gonna be much harder. In fact, everything is harder. Everything. The thick vegetation and overhead canopy degrades radio communications, making it that much harder to control your troops. Tasks that were simple in Nevada, like moving in multiple, mutually supporting columns, will be a bitch in the jungle, but that's how we're moving. Worse, you'll never see all your people. Some places, you'll be lucky to see twenty feet in front of you. And don't count on your shiny new DARPA technology. Vegetation and rainfall messes with infrared. If we expect contact, we'll move in bounding overwatch, but otherwise, make sure your people are covering their arcs. On short halts, everyone takes a knee to listen. Noise doesn't travel far in jungle, so everything you do hear matters, especially animal sounds. If you hear an animal, it's telling you something, so pay attention. Every time we stop, your troops drink—whether or not they think they're thirsty. Don't worry about conservation. We're near a river, so drink. On long halts, every two to three hours, the soldiers will need to eat something, even if it's just a power bar. We will burn through calories like you wouldn't believe, especially with the rucksacks. We'll stop for the night while there's still daylight and set up a perimeter defense. Go ahead and set up your ground surveillance radars, but the thick bush will limit the range, so use your Mark-1 eyeball as well. We'll do a hundred percent stand-to at first and last light."