Havoc Rising

by Brian S. Leon

  Before I could continue my advance, I took the butt of a rifle to the face, instantly causing my eyes to water. The blow stunned me and blurred my vision for a second, and I could feel blood run through my moustache and into my mouth, but in the hands of a mundane, the attack didn’t have enough force to do much more than that. Still, it hurt like hell. Again, the attacker gaped at me when I didn’t go down, and he began trying to back through the bunks. Before he took a step, I reached for his rifle, seized it by the fore grip, and jerked it from his hands. I threw it away over my shoulder and slowly shook my head at him. Predictably, the guy ran, pushing past the few comrades still left standing in a total panic. I let him run rather than shoot him in the back. Duma intercepted him before he made it twenty feet.

  I shook the cobwebs from my head and continued my advance through the room. The remaining guards were in the process of fleeing as we took them down. In less than three minutes, thanks to our preternatural speed, nothing was moving except Duma and me. I replaced the clip in my Sig and took another few minutes to complete the grim and unpleasant task of making sure that any still alive did not suffer any longer than necessary.

  I stopped to wipe the blood from my nose, bringing tears to my eyes again, as Duma approached me. He cocked his helmeted head as he looked at me, held up a single gloved finger, and then bent it at the knuckle.

  Great. Just what I needed—a broken nose.

  At its far end, this barracks cavern opened into another tunnel leading farther north. Duma took up position on the right side of the passageway, and I ducked in along the left. I ejected the partially used clip, inserted another, and quickly surveyed the room we had just crossed. Weapons racks ran along the near and far walls. Luckily, the racks were mostly full, loaded with the cheap copies of AK-47s. Better here than in hands.

  I poked my head around the edge of the tunnel to see where it led but could only see that it extended another hundred yards and had no visible signs of life. I was getting ready to let Duma know there was nothing down that way when another scream, more like a roar, shook the walls again. The chanting changed into a raucous cheer. As fast as we were moving, it just didn’t seem fast enough.

  A voice came through my radio—a transmission came from the second Spartoi unit. “We have come to a junction that intersects the main entrance tunnel—well lit, and lined with columns. Another passage continues on the opposite side of it. All tunnels clear to this point.”

  “Mark the intersection so we don’t overlap, leave a relay, and then return to the opening into the central cavern off your original point of entry and await the order to advance,” I replied.

  Duma and I kept moving farther down the tunnel, and the smell of rotten eggs became stronger. Less than twenty yards down the northern passage, we came to a tunnel that branched off to our left and sloped downward. A smooth yellow substance coated the walls of the tunnel, and the odor of rotten eggs—burnt rotten eggs, to be precise—issued from it in a haze of intense heat. At least now I knew where that odor was coming from. I gestured for Duma to stay put while I continued exploring the previous passage, moving to the north. He threw up his hands in protest and then made an elaborate show of placing his fingers over the mouth and nose of his helmet.

  Less than ten yards farther along the northern passage, the path intersected with a brightly lit, well worn, and precisely carved tunnel, about twenty feet in all dimensions, lined with colonnades on both sides. The air coming from the finely carved tunnel to my right was cold and crisp, and the blaring chants, cheers, and screams were coming from the left. This had to be the main cavern entrance to the outside. Another passage continued directly across from me, and I could see the letters “EII”—the mark left by the second Spartoi unit, Eagle Two—scratched into the edge of that tunnel at about head height. We had come full circle, and no one had found Medea or Hecate yet. Sonofabitch.

  I returned to Duma at the mouth of the side passage and figured it was time to bring Frigate’s team through the front door and close off any known nonmagical escape routes. Frigate, Geek, and Sarah needed to move in closer because they had no real line of sight from outside the cavern. Fortunately, this area of the cave system was currently cleared, so they’d be safe for the time being.

  “Nest, advance to the tunnel entrance and proceed until the first intersection, approximately seventy-five yards in. Hold a position with eyes into the central cavern, and rig the secondary passageways to blow remotely on my signal.” I waited till they acknowledged my order, and then I met back up with Duma to check on what was down the stinky, dark, yellow-walled pathway. The surfaces of the hot, reeking passage were smooth, curved rather than flat, and the floor sloped steadily down. The farther down we traveled, the stronger the smell became, bringing tears to my eyes and burning my nose. The temperature continued to rise steadily, as well. This passage was isolated enough that even the raucous sounds from the central cavern fell away. I finally began to hear indistinct voices coming from in front of us, and a faint glow from up ahead cast eerie shadows into the tunnel as the temperature increased rapidly.

  I swung the MP5 behind me on its strap, choosing to draw out my swords instead. The tunnel jogged sharply to the left, and I couldn’t see what was beyond the bend, but the sulfurous smell became cloying, and the light was brighter. The heat was stifling, and I assumed we were close to whatever it was. Given that I already knew Ifrit were present, and that they were creatures born of fire, I had my suspicions about what we’d find.

  We continued to move cautiously but quickly. As soon as we rounded the bend, I could see a small cavern with no other exits that was immensely tall—easily a few hundred feet high. At its center was a massive fire that erupted right through the floor and practically roared on its own. The room was so hot it shimmered like asphalt in summer. Just to the left of the pit stood an Ifrit with its back to us, staring down into the conflagration. As we watched, another pitch-black Jinn began climbing out of the fire in front of it.

  Shit. My legs hurt at the thought of the burns I’d gotten in Brooklyn. “Hamstring that one—I’ll take his head off,” I whispered, pointing at the Ifrit with its back to us.

  Duma nodded, and we both took off at full speed. Duma was a blur as he did a baseball slide right between the Ifrit’s legs, slashing its knees with his curved blades and severing the proximal heads of its massive calf muscles. The beast bellowed and fell to its knees.

  I ran between the Ifrits, slashing at the one climbing out of the pit with my right hand while using the impact to slow me enough to swing backhand with my left, hoping to connect with the hamstrung Ifrit’s neck. But the creature writhed in pain and ducked, so instead of slicing through its throat, I caught it square in the face, cutting the top of its head off at the nose. It slumped to the ground with a thump, and flaming blood covered the floor with a sizzle.

  Duma was trying to flank the Ifrit that had emerged from the fire. It watched me cautiously and kept turning to keep Duma from getting behind it. There wasn’t much room to move, between the fire pit and the dead Ifrit oozing burning blood all over the ground. My blow had sliced deep into the Ifrit’s massive left shoulder, making the arm nearest Duma all but useless. We flanked the monster, and it bobbed in surprise, desperate for a plan. Unfortunately, the fire pit partially blocked my path to the creature. Only Duma had a clear line of attack.

  When the Ifrit feinted toward me, Duma leapt. Since I couldn’t have run directly at it anyway, I jumped in the opposite direction, back toward the entryway, and the creature disappeared. I guessed that it would teleport as far as it could see, and I was right. It reappeared in front of the entryway, just where I’d thought it would. I landed on its back just as it materialized, plunged my swords through its torso, and twisted violently to drag the cut through the beast’s chest. The Jinn never knew what happened and was dead before it fell, spraying sizzling blood across the ground a go
od ten feet up through the tunnel.

  “Fuck!” Duma shouted behind me. “How’d you know it was gonna do that?” He walked over to me, shaking his head, as I removed my blades from the hulk, feeling a bit smug. It wasn’t often that I got to show up Duma with a fancy maneuver like that.

  “Luck, actually, but it was surprised, wounded, and outnumbered. I’d have made a run for it, too.” I shook the flaming gore from my blades and wiped them off on the rock wall before putting them away. “Now, let’s get outta here. But before we go”—I reached into my vest pocket and pulled out a thermite grenade—“let’s plug that hole.”

  We started up the sulfur-filled tunnel, and I tossed the grenade toward the fire pit behind us without bothering to pull the pin, figuring the heat would be enough to detonate it. We bolted back up the passage as fast as we could run and felt, more than heard, the explosion. It was a muffled whump, and the pressure wave that chased us up the tunnel knocked us forward but not off our feet. The last thing I needed was more Ifrits joining the fray, and given how quiet it was down there, I figured blowing it up was worth the risk. If we couldn’t find Medea, though, it wouldn’t matter in the least.

  CHAPTER 35

  Back out in the barracks cavern, the relatively cool air felt good as we dashed toward Ab at full speed. He was still crouched where we’d left him, but as soon as he saw us, he shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands to ask what was up then jabbed a finger in the direction of the cavern, which was now positively alive with energy and screaming bodies.

  I crept up and peeked in. It was pure frenzy. Hundreds of men, women, and even children were swaying and roiling across the giant cavern’s floor, chanting something in unison that was still unintelligible. The pathway that had split the crowd earlier had disappeared, creating a single mass of human bodies again. Most of the people had the dark skin, hair, and features common in southwestern Asia, but there were a few with lighter coloring. The faces of those closest to us were expressionless, but many of their eyes were rolled back and white as they swayed and contorted. The sound was a united cacophony, but the entranced movement struck me as random and agitated.

  I could see no sign of any magic controlling the people or even in the air at the moment, but the energy was escalating at a frightening rate. Way above the crowd near the cavern’s ceiling, the air was alive with the waxing energy levels, forming a sea of sparks or burning embers that didn’t fade or even move. The individual motes of light just intensified as more and more appeared by the second. Despite the brightness emanating from them, the sparks weren’t the source of the light that filled the immense space, so I just chalked the phenomenon up to something I could see that wasn’t readily visible to others. I had never seen anything like it before.

  At the other side of the grotto near the dais, I could just see the naked shoulder of a huge, hunched figure radiating the forceful blue-white aura of an Old One. The being was gigantic compared to the humans around it, but the power it gave off was weaker than I expected for a Protogenoi—down on a level similar to Ned’s. That had to be Perses. On either side of him stood a massive black-skinned Ifrit, each far larger than any I’d ever seen before—half again as immense as the ones we’d just taken out but only slightly larger than the one I’d faced in Brooklyn. How many of these damned things was I going to have to deal with?

  As I assessed the situation, absolute pandemonium began to break out in the crowd around the main entrance to our right. The riotous and rhythmic chanting became a wild and uproarious cheer. All I could see through the jumping bodies and waving arms were tendrils of black energy that faded to a brilliant blood red as they played over the turbulent crowd like a piano player’s fingers touching keys.

  “Frigate, where the hell are you?” I whispered hoarsely as I mashed the mic button. “Does any team have a visual on who or what just came into the cavern?”

  All the responses came back negative. The crowd was too thick, and the entity was too short to see. With that unique aura of energy, though, I was sure it was either Medea or Hecate.

  “Moving into the tunnel now,” said Frigate’s voice, finally. “Sorry, but we don’t move as fast as you guys.”

  “Everyone stay focused. I’m pretty sure that was our Tango that just entered,” I said over the radio.

  The throngs of people slowly began to turn their attention to the source of the black tendrils, following the progression of whatever projected them as it made its way through the writhing mass of bodies toward the dais and the hunched figure at its base.

  “Frigate, are you in position yet?” I asked. “Everyone else, stand fast.”

  Whatever was happening, I definitely needed to make sure that intense energy was Medea before I acted, or she might get away—again. When we attacked, it would have to be simultaneous and swift and focused on containing Medea. At least we had most of the exits from the cavern covered.

  “We have visual on the Tango. She is progressing toward the rock platform through the center of the crowd,” the leader of the second Spartoi squad said over the radio. “We will engage when target is clear of the crowd.”

  That squad was at the entrance directly across the cavern from my position, on the other side of and nearest the dais. If that was Medea, and the stage was her destination, then that position would be the closest point of attack and the best place for me to be when we did. It would take far too long and cost way too many human lives for me to fight my way across the crowd from where I currently stood. Given Eagle Two’s recon, I knew the tunnel system Duma and I had worked through joined up with the one the squad had come through at the main passage, giving me a path around the crowd to reach them.

  “Negative, Eagle Two. Stand fast. I’m coming,” I said. “All teams, on my signal engage all hostiles, with priority being all nonhumans. Be advised: the humans inside do not appear to be under any sort of magical control. If they attack you, do whatever is necessary to protect your team. Frigate, when I pass your position, move forward to a safe distance and detonate the charges to close the side tunnels off the main entrance exactly one minute later. The explosions will be the signal to begin the assault.”

  Closing those side passages would keep any combatants from coming in behind my team as they advanced into the crowd. If we could attack them from all sides with our backs protected, then our small assault team stood a better chance while I took care of Medea. The only wild card was that I still hadn’t seen Hecate, not even in disguise among the crowd.

  One thing at a time. I knew where Medea was, so she was first.

  I gave Duma and Ab a thumbs-up and took off through the side tunnel as fast as I could run. As I approached the passage where Duma and I killed the Ifrits, I unsheathed my swords. I slowed just enough approaching the main entrance that I could stop to alert Frigate’s team to my passing without scaring them or breezing by without them noticing.

  I stopped only long enough to signal as I passed them, waving a sword at Geek, who was the only one of the trio not glued to a scope. Frigate was standing behind one of the columns along the right side of the tunnel facing into the cavern, resting his cheek against the stock of the heavy sniper rifle, moving it among potential targets and, I assumed, taking stock of the situation. Geek, who acknowledged me as I passed, was on one knee behind a column on the opposite side of the passage with a mini laptop propped on his thigh. Sarah stood next to him, surveying the cavern with a spotter’s scope.

  Despite what they were dealing with, the team of mundanes came off as remarkably calm and ready for action. I resumed running, beginning a countdown in my head. I cleared one cavern and raced through a smaller, secondary one that was likely a mess hall and prep area. As I ran, I passed several groups of unarmed dead people in loose-fitting robes, and I noted the tight groupings of bullet holes in their backs and chests. The Spartoi were as efficient as Duma and me, though they had shot peo
ple in the back. I had no time to contemplate their less-than-honorable methods. Forty-five seconds to go.

  I slowed down when the light began to increase at the end of the tunnel. “Eagle Two, I am approaching your position,” I radioed ahead. Thirty seconds to go.

  The din of screaming and cheering from within the main cavern died down as the energy changed from random and driftless to much more concentrated, sending a pain through my head like a hot lance, causing me to falter as I ran at top speed. As I regained my focus and my footing, a familiar, gravelly female voice began to echo through the caves as the noise from the crowd suddenly died away. I couldn’t make out what she was saying yet, but I didn’t stop to find out, either.

  Just ahead of me, I could see the two Spartoi keeping an eye on the junction between two tunnels to make sure no one snuck up on the rest of the team from behind. Both soldiers knelt on the rocky floor, aiming their M4s in my direction as I approached.

  “Coming through.” I sprinted through the junction past them toward the rest of the squad waiting in the northern entrance to the main cavern.

  “Falling in behind,” responded from the pair, as they rose up from their kneeling positions on either side of the tunnel and followed me.