Alliance of Shadows (Dead Six Series Book 3)

by Larry Correia

  “What’s happening?”

  “The systems are going down. All the systems.” He was either frightened, or in awe. It was hard to tell. “Every system in western Europe is under attack. I’m trying to warn the authorities, but they’re all swamped. They’re making it impossible for me to even call in fake bomb threats to force evacuations. They’re hitting police, military, phone networks, utilities, banking, the works, but I think that’s just a smokescreen to hide what they’re really doing. All the transit hub systems are down, no GPS tracking, nothing. I can’t tell where anything is or where it’s going. Nobody can.”

  “Who is doing what now?”

  “It’s a coordinated cyber-attack,” Bob explained. “Nobody in charge has a clue what’s real and what’s not. It’s the ultimate diversion.”

  “No shit! That’s what I just said!” Reaper was freaking out. “Remember when I said Kat had hired some people like me? More like a hundred of me. They must have been working on this for months. Each one targeting different systems. They probably never even knew they were part of a team effort, just hey, here’s a million dollars if you break this when I tell you to. I think she just turned them all loose at once. Nobody has ever done this wide of an attack before. It’s kind of amazing, actually.”

  “Can you fix it?”

  Reaper laughed at me.

  “I’m not fucking around, Reaper.”

  “Sorry, chief. It’s like she just drove a truck loaded with dynamite into a dam and you asked me to plug the hole with my finger.”

  I punched the steering wheel. There wasn’t a damned thing I could do about cyber-attacks, and we were still several minutes away from being able to shoot anyone. “Okay, so the Illuminati meeting is one target, but what about the other three?”

  “Some of the second-tier Illuminati leadership will be held back from the main meeting. These people have been in the treachery business for a thousand years. The bombs will be wherever her biggest potential rivals are congregated. This way Katarina pops a bunch of other surviving potential competitors too, and it looks more like acts of terrorism to the rest of the world rather than just a directed assassination against one group.”

  “There’s a summit in London this week, lots of world leaders there.” Skunky said.

  “Even if the Illuminati aren’t present, she might blow them up just so everyone thinks they were the real target.” Bob was just making educated guesses now, but my gut told me he was right.

  “Where the hell did she get four nuclear bombs from?”

  “One was seized by Dead Six. The others were stolen from a Russian demil site and sold by Sala Jihan.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Should have seen that coming. No wonder the Pale Man had let me free. He didn’t want this to come back to bite him. I knew Kat better than anybody else here, so I tried to think like her. What would I do if I was Kat? “She’ll probably time the bombs to explode at the same time. That maximizes her chances of getting as many important targets as possible.”

  “Anders is running the details. This whole thing was his and Hunter’s op,” Bob said. “I know Anders well. He’s one efficient son of a bitch. He likes to run his ops like clockwork. He had Stokes lock me up near for a reason. He wants me to get killed at the launch site as close to the time of detonation as possible.”

  “He must really not like you.”

  “I got him fired from the FBI. Majestic never would have recruited him if I’d not ruined his career. But that’s just a side benefit. I’ve got the right résumé. Anders needs to frame me as Gordon’s recruit so he can get away with it. No, the bad part is that timeline means that the bombs headed for the furthest targets must already be on their way.”

  I looked to Reaper. “Any ideas?”

  He sure didn’t seem happy. “I’m on a tablet with a shitty connection in a speeding car but I’m trying to go around all these cut-rate Chinese hackers Kat hired, break into NATO’s command net to warn them they’re about to get nuked. So quit bugging me!”

  I was too busy trying not to crash into early commuters at two hundred and twenty kilometers an hour to think through all the implications of that. If Bob was right, some of the bombs were already on their way. But the ones intended for closer targets might not have left yet. “Can you stop the trains or not?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t know,” Reaper said, and that honesty was a little scary.

  The rest of Exodus had to be at Evangeline by now. “Then it’s up to Valentine.”

  VALENTINE

  The interior of the station was clean and orderly. There were several food stands but they were closed for the night. There weren’t very many passengers present in the station, and most of those were dozing on benches, but the cleaning crew was out in force, scrubbing floors and emptying garbage cans. There were elevated screens showing arrival and departure times. I went to the closest and checked. It was sparse until commute time. The next arrival was in twenty minutes, departing in thirty to Paris.

  “We must check that one.” Antoine said.

  “Yeah, but nothing toward London for hours though.”

  Ling shook her head. “But the experimental line is not open yet. It would not appear on this schedule. Magnetic levitation trains do not run on normal tracks.” There was an interactive map on a nearby touch screen kiosk. Ling found the portion of the train station blacked out as still under construction. “They are building a new section for those. The experimental train should be there.”

  “Assuming it hasn’t left yet.”

  “We can pray,” Ling said. “This way.”

  There were no trains parked under the enclosure yet. Pigeons were nesting in the rafters above. Ling led us to a section blocked off with caution tape and signs warning us to keep out. None of the custodial staff had paid us any mind. I didn’t see the cops. None of the weary travelers looked like hired mercenaries keeping watch, but that could be deceptive. So we went down an empty corridor marked with a bunch of signs that I assumed said keep out in French. The next area was lined with scaffolding and lit only with work lights. At the end of the corridor, we ducked under some hanging plastic sheets and entered the new, half-built section of the train station. It wasn’t very well lit, and it was very quiet. We didn’t see anyone.

  I looked back at my Exodus compatriots. “Fan out a little, keep your eyes open. There may be night crews. ID your targets before you shoot. I’ve had a shitty enough day without accidentally murdering a janitor or something.”

  “No flashlights,” Antoine suggested. “Let us keep the element of surprise.”

  It took us a few minutes to navigate the labyrinthine construction site. The large, open central area was divided up with scaffolding, construction barriers, and more plastic curtains. We moved as quickly as we could without making noise, in case the Montalbans had patrols, but we didn’t encounter anyone. I noticed a vantage point that would allow us to observe most of the station, a platform where a large window would eventually be installed. Now it was just a skeleton of metal beams. While Ling and I found a ladder up, Antoine stayed at floor level to keep watch.

  A cool night breeze drifted across my face as we observed the yard from our elevated position. Numerous sets of tracks split off the main line, allowing trains to park or get out of each other’s way. At least, that’s what I thought they were for; I’m not really familiar with the ins and outs of railroading. The maglev track was taller, much wider, and being shiny and new definitely stood out from the others.

  Ling pointed. “Those are the service hangars.” All four of them were lit up, though there was no movement. The experimental super train was on the other side of those buildings. It was silver, had a bunch of sleek cars behind it, but the important thing was that it wasn’t currently moving.

  “There’s not a lot of cover out there.” If there was anyone inside, it was going to be really hard to get close enough to check without being spotted.

  “Perhaps they won’
t shoot first and ask questions later,” Ling said. “They are trying to be low key about this, yes? They’re also in what is supposed to be a secured area. If we’re lucky, they’re not being as vigilant as they might be.”

  “I hope so, but we can’t count on it.” I checked my watch. That train to Paris would be here soon.

  “Listen,” Ling warned. At first I thought the sound might be a distant train, but then I realized the noise was from a helicopter. It was running dark, no lights, and the only reason I spotted it was that it moved in front of some of the city lights. It was coming in low and fast from the south. “We have company.”

  “Hopefully Tailor got ahold of someone.”

  “If that is French special forces, they are just as likely to shoot us as the Montalbans. Wait. I don’t think . . . that isn’t a military helicopter.”

  She was right. It was a little civilian helicopter, and it descended to land near where we had parked our van. The authorities didn’t need to sneak in. It could have been Tailor, but somehow I knew it wasn’t. I just had a gut feeling who it was. Tailor must have gotten the word out about the nukes, but Majestic had been listening. Majestic was always listening.

  “It’s Underhill. He knows I’m here.”

  “You can’t know that,” Ling insisted.

  I shook my head. “No, it’s him.”

  “Either way, we must hurry.” Ling went to the ladder and effortlessly slid to the ground. I followed, not nearly as gracefully. We set out for the nearest hangar.

  The cement ended with the construction zone and the ground turned to gravel. We were out in the open now, so stealth was out. “Spread out.” If there was a guard posted, it would be harder to shoot us if we weren’t clumped together. Then we simply ran for it.

  Breathing hard, I reached the edge of the hangar. Nobody had shouted an alarm or started shooting. When I peeked through the nearest window I discovered why.

  “They’ve already left.”

  Antoine tried the closest door. It was unlocked. Pistol raised, he swept inside. I drew my .44 and followed. Ling was right behind me.

  There was a concrete enclosure inside the hangar. It was covered in signs that I assumed meant danger, high voltage. It had an extremely heavy-duty metal door, but it was hanging open. Inside the room there were some shelves and four big metal cradles. They were stenciled War, Pestilence, Famine, and Death. All of the cradles were empty.

  “Shit.” I glanced around. On the shelves were some plastic jugs, and I recognized the labels as being from the shipments Ariel had keyed off on. There was a Geiger counter and a bunch of tools I did not recognize. The work area looked suspiciously clean, like the Montalbans had probably scrubbed the place so that the only forensic evidence the authorities would find later would belong to Bob Lorenzo. “Where’d they go?”

  “Not far,” Antoine said. He had gone back into the empty hangar. “Look over here.”

  I came out to see that he was pointing at a small puddle on the concrete. One of the pipes in the wall had been leaking. There were lines of water, like someone had driven a big cart through the puddle, and it had been recently enough that it hadn’t had time to evaporate. There were also a few footprints, big ones, boots, from the treads. They went a few feet before drying into oblivion. They were headed down a walkway, back toward the station.

  “The last bomb is going to Paris!” Heedless of danger, I sprinted down the walkway. Ling and Antoine ran after me. That cart couldn’t be too far ahead.

  Sure enough, a few seconds later, I turned the corner and spotted several men driving a motorized cart up a ramp. There was a big metal box on that cart, about the size of a coffin. There were six of them in total, two ahead, one on each side of their precious cargo, and two bringing up the rear. And those two saw me as soon as I saw them.

  I was Calm.

  I took in everything in that second. They were dressed casually, but had that contractor vibe, not Montalban regulars. Of course, Katarina wouldn’t use anybody who could be tracked back to her for this assignment. Short haircuts, a few operator beards, none of them old, all of them fit. If they hadn’t been wearing drab jackets to hide their weapons, I bet I would have seen tats from their old units. Deniable, expendable, they were probably doing it for the money, and a few years ago I had been exactly like them.

  But that didn’t matter now, because they were reaching for their guns, and I needed to stop a nuclear holocaust.

  Still running forward, my .44 was already in both hands, punching outward. The rear guards were twenty yards away. I shot one, then the other, before either could clear leather. The sudden roar of gunfire caused the others to reflexively jump and turn. The two by the bomb were even further and I was still moving. I hit the one on the right. My gun jumped, and came smoothly back down as I stroked the trigger. The one the left fell off the ramp.

  Then Antoine and Ling were behind me, blazing away.

  Of the men at the top of the ramp, only one had managed to move to cover before they nailed him. Antoine began hammering the pillar he dove behind. Everyone else was dead or wounded, and Ling methodically put 9mm rounds into all of the fallen to be sure. I reached the motorized cart as it slowly plodded up the ramp with a methodical hum. It seemed simple enough. There was a green button for go and a red button for stop. The last man risked a quick peek around his cover and I reflexively shot him through the forehead. I punched the red button.

  The cart stopped.

  It was quiet. There were dead bodies everywhere. We had just saved Paris from destruction.

  One down, three to go.

  LORENZO

  It had been one hell of a quick ride. The car was pretty sporty, and I kept it as fast as I could without flying off the road. There wasn’t much traffic, trucks mostly, and I blasted past those. The street lights along the highway were out, and all of the houses along the highway were dark. There were blackouts everywhere. The town was still lit, but the traffic lights on the way to the station had been blinking. The police bands were a mess, with hundreds of fake emergency calls flooding in, right before it all crashed. Our chateau shooting was probably in there too, lost among the sea of bullshit.

  The phones were still out, but as we got closer Skunky tried to get hold of his comrades on the radio. So far he hadn’t had any luck. It could have just been a matter of range and material between us, or they could already be dead. There was no way to tell.

  None of us had never been here, and the GPS was down, but Reaper had downloaded a map of the region before he lost the Internet, and since this was newly-built Europe, instead of old cobblestone streets designed for horses Europe, the streets were actually laid out in a way that made sense. We were getting close.

  “How are you guys doing?” That was aimed at Bob and Shen, since they’d both been wounded.

  But Reaper answered. “Frustrated. I can’t accomplish dick from here.”

  “Reaper, when we get inside there’s got to be some sort of control center for the station. See if you can do something from there.”

  “Yeah. They’ve got to have an emergency radio to call the conductors. I’ll force them to park those trains someplace that isn’t too populated in case the bombs are on timers. I’ll take the whole place hostage if I have to!”

  “That’s the spirit. Shen? Bob? You up to fight?”

  Shen snorted, like that question was offensive.

  “I can shoot one-handed,” Bob sounded weary, but pissed off. Probably because we were taking him to the very place he was supposed to get framed and murdered. This was really going to suck if we failed, and still managed to deliver Kat her patsy.

  “I was talking about the blood loss, Bob.”

  “It’s not squirting.”

  “You sound like Dad when you say that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We get in there, split up and spread out. If those bombs are here, do not let them leave.”

  Gare du Evangeline looked like a pretty normal train station. Th
ere weren’t crowds of panicked citizens fleeing the place so the shooting probably hadn’t started. I didn’t see any cops yet, so I pulled up right in front of the main doors. All of us bailed out and left the car in the passenger unloading only zone. They could just tack that parking violation onto the other hundred felonies I had committed already tonight.

  VALENTINE

  I stood next to the nuclear weapon and reloaded my revolver. As I reholstered, there was panicked shouting from inside the terminal. The passengers had heard our gunfire, but it had happened quickly and was over. They were probably still trying to figure out what was going on, but they’d start running sooner or later. If there were any more of Kat’s hired goons around, they’d have heard the noise, too. We’d stopped one of the nukes, but we had no way to secure it with just the three of us.

  “I’ve reached someone on the radio,” Antoine said. “It is Mr. Long. They have arrived.” He keyed his microphone. “We have recovered one device. The others are status unknown.”

  I looked over my shoulder. The maglev train was still parked, but now its lights were on. That was strange, I thought, as I stared at the high-tech locomotive.

  “What is it?” Ling asked.

  I didn’t answer.

  “Michael?”

  “There’s a bomb on that train.”

  “What? How do you know?”

  “I just know! Holy shit, there’s a bomb on that train! There has to be! Antoine, tell the others that we’re heading back toward the hangar.” I started down the ramp. Antoine and Ling were closer. “Get to that train!”

  A voice came over the PA system. It was Underhill.

  “I assume you can hear me, Valentine. We intercepted some coms earlier. Seems you’ve been busy.”

  “Oh, come on!” I snarled. I didn’t have time for these assholes now.

  “Don’t worry. Help is on the way. This will all be over soon. I can’t let you get away again. You were one hell of a fighter, son, but you can rest now.”