A subtle agency omnibus, p.17
A Subtle Agency Omnibus, page 17
part #1 of The Metaframe War Series
There would be a lot of bullets coming their way. As the last of the helpers disappeared out the front door, it swung shut behind them. Li and Gang stood side by side at the back of the restaurant. They both let their scabbards fall to the floor, lifting their swords into attack positions above their shoulders - ready for action. The more than three hundred and forty-year-old blades gleamed in the soft light of the restaurant’s lanterns, their shape and edges the very measure of perfection.
“You bring a knife to a gun fight?” Mr. Wang declared derisively.
Li promised fiercely, “When your souls enter the afterlife, you will be able to tell those you meet there that your passage was provided by the White and Green Dragons.”
Mr. Wang pulled out his cigar and laughed, long and loud.
Li’s eyes tightened and her lips pressed into a thin line. The Green Dragon resting in lethal stillness above her left shoulder.
The sound of glass breaking shattered the tense quiet. The back door had been breached. Anton’s party was about to start. Mr. Wang abruptly stopped laughing and shouted, “Cut them down!”
Li and Gang ramped to their maximum ability.
Mr. Wang’s men grinned and snarled. Their short, snub-nosed submachine guns erupted in blooms of gray smoke as streams of .45 rounds ripped through the restaurant.
Li and Gang had been standing as close to each other as they could before they’d moved. They’d provided a single target to the Tiger Clan, and every man had aimed his gun at the same location.
Where they no longer were.
Li’s mind raced, she could see the rapid puffs of smoke erupting from the barrels of the short submachine guns as each round went off. The spent brass casings were flying everywhere. The gangsters were close enough together that the gun smoke and casings were obscuring the view in front of them.
To her right, her father had already covered half the distance between the kitchen and the first of the gangsters at the far edge of the group. He was moving from table to table, his feet barely touching the surface as he flew through the room. The White Dragon held in both hands, high above his head. The gangsters reflexively started to track the moving targets in front of them, swinging their guns around.
The gangsters stared as Gang and Li moved a yard or so in front of their streams of fire. Panicked fingers pressing hard against triggers as they tried to bring their submachine guns to bear. The MAC-10 carried up to thirty rounds in a magazine. At best, it could fire a thousand rounds per minute. They would run out of ammunition in two seconds.
Li reached the wall next to a gangster, slashing the green dragon through his neck as she took three steps along the wall to curve in behind him and put herself in the middle of four other men.
The man’s head rolled off his shoulders, his blood fountaining into the air. He slumped forward to the floor, his submachine gun continuing to fire aimlessly, clutched tightly in his dead hand.
Beyond the men surrounding her, she could see her father’s sword was already red with blood as he pushed into the far side of the gangsters. At the back of the restaurant, lights flashed as gunfire erupted in the kitchen, and ricochets rang like bells off dangling pots.
The men beside her dragged their guns around as they pivoted toward her. For one of the men, it was impossible to move quickly enough as Li brought the Green Dragon down through a diagonal slash that cut him from shoulder to hip. His suit splashing red in an instant, he started to fall away a look of shocked amazement frozen on his face.
Before he hit the ground, Li leaped vertically upward as the remaining three men opened fire, two of which were cut to ribbons by the remaining rounds in the guns opposite them. The fourth man’s gun ran dry, he reached for a 9mm handgun as Li landed and ran him through. He fell backward squealing as Li drew the Green Dragon clear of his abdomen.
The guns in the restaurant fell silent, their magazines running out of bullets. Through the gray smoke, Li veered to the right to avoid a thrown knife and assessed the situation with a glance. There had been fourteen gangsters to start with. Now reduced by five on her side, and another six on her father’s side. Leaving three left, including Mr. Wang.
The knife thrower was nearest. She ran past him toward Mr. Wang, slashing the Green Dragon across his belly, disemboweling him. He had a fresh cast on his right arm, it was the gangster she’d nicknamed Sleazy. Karma’s a bitch.
Li arrived in front of Mr. Wang. His face was twisted with hate and rage, he pulled the pin on a fragmentation grenade and started to push it toward her. Li shouted a warning, “Father!”
She reversed her sword. Striking Mr. Wang hard across the face with her left fist. His knees buckled, the grenade falling at his feet. Li used her forward momentum to swing past the crime lord, landing next to her father. They both leaped behind a thick dining table, overturning it to make a shield.
Behind them, they could hear Mr. Wang groping near his knees for the grenade. He shouted, “Damn -”
The grenade went off.
As the dust settled from the explosion, silence descended within the Noodle House.
Is Anton okay?
Li checked her father, “Are you okay?”
Gang affirmed with a broad grin, “Never better - he definitely had that coming.”
* * *
Mr. Wang screamed, “Out.”
Anton readied himself as best he could. Gang had given him a katana sword. Anton had made great strides toward mastery of such a weapon but it seemed unwieldy and clumsy given a general lack of space within the kitchen. He put the big blade down, picking up a pair of thick bladed foot long carving knives from a nearby rack. They felt balanced and lethal in his hands. There was more conversation from the restaurant and he resisted the urge to get closer to Li and Gang. What if they needed his help? What if Li needed his help? But no, his job was here, to guard their backs.
He heard Mr. Wang begin laughing.
The glass in the back door shattered.
It’s on! The whole back door burst apart as six gangsters armed with submachine guns, knives, and baseball bats streamed into the kitchen.
Anton ramped as the gangsters in front of him swung their MAC-10 submachine guns up and fired directly at him. He pivoted away from the guns. Rolling across the kitchen table top as bullets whipped past his head, slamming into the heavy fridge doors at the end of the kitchen. Dangling pots and pans above the table rang out as bullets plowed into them and wild ricochets flew everywhere.
Anton rolled off the table. The gangsters broke into two groups, streaming around the table. Two ran directly toward him, their guns blazing. He ducked, and rolled underneath the table. Crouching into a tight squat, he pushed up and sideways with his shoulder. The heavy metal table rose up, flipping over and smashing into two of the gangsters.
Anton was left exposed to the remaining gangsters, one of whom was the looming Fats. All four remaining gangsters were dragging their guns around to point directly at him from point blank range. The nearest two held their weapons less than two feet from where he stood. He could see their fingers beginning to squeeze down hard on the triggers.
One dreadful thought raced through his mind. I’m going to die.
He spontaneously ramped to a level he’d never experienced before, time slowing to a crawl. Anton felt a singular sense of calm and clarity of purpose. He dropped his knives. Leaning toward the two gangsters, he flipped his hands up, catching their wrists and pushing their gun hands high as he surged between them. The bones in their wrists broke, unable to survive the sudden acceleration. Their submachine guns fired, the bullets streaming wildly into the ceiling as gray gun smoke billowed around his head. His forward momentum carried both men with him, placing the man on his right in between himself and Fats, and the last gangster near the back door. The man on his right shuddered as his body was filled with bullets meant for Anton. Twisting, Anton dragged the man on his left into the line of fire. He collapsed, the other gangsters blowing his life away with their submachine guns. He used the dying man as a step ladder to leap high above them all before descending in front of the last two men.
The smaller one dropped his empty MAC-10, lunging with a long-bladed knife in his left hand. Anton trapped his wrist and kept moving forward. The man began to scream as his arm fractured. Anton laughed out loud, pivoted, his right foot lashing into Fats, catching him just below the ribcage. The big man folded around his boot, before flying through the back door and into the alleyway.
Anton half turned as he came to a halt. The last gangster’s arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. Anton struck the shrieking man at the base of his skull with an open hand, crushing his spine, and sending him into oblivion.
Anton felt a rush of euphoria explode through him. I survived, but what sort of wild Ramp was that? He looked around, searching for threats. The other two gangsters who had been hit and half crushed by the table were both out cold and possibly dead. Anton turned, stepped into the back doorway and searched for Fats. He lay a dozen feet away in the middle of the alley. He was deathly still, blood streaming from his mouth and nose, forming a pool around his head.
Then a grenade went off inside the Noodle House. “Li!? Gang!?” Anton shouted. He rushed into the main restaurant, the euphoria he’d felt a moment ago, blown away like a leaf on the wind.
They met in the middle of the restaurant. Li silently looked him up and down. Gang grinned at him. Anton, grabbed them by the shoulders and asked urgently, “Are you both okay?”
Li replied, “Sure, and you?”
Anton nodded, “I’m good.”
Gang asked, “Is the kitchen clear?”
“I think so but there are two who could still be alive.”
“Let’s check,” Gang directed.
They all moved back to the kitchen and Gang and Li examined the men that Anton had slammed with the table. Gang nodded and stood up. Li rose up next to the other body and declared, “This one is dead.”
“Looks like you got all the ones who came through here, well done,” Gang offered.
“What now?” Anton asked.
“Now our helpers will start their real work.”
“To clear the bodies?”
“Yes. Mr. Chan owns several businesses including a large and prosperous pet food company. He has many brothers, cousins, and nephews. Everyone who was here earlier pretending to be a patron is a close family member and entirely trustworthy. They will clear the bodies and clean up the building.”
Li smirked. “You would be surprised what ends up in dog food cans.”
Strings of firecrackers began exploding in the street. Anton started at the noise and Gang’s smartphone began to ring. Gang answered it, and had a short conversation in rapid Chinese. Gang hung up, and explained, “Mr. Chan is celebrating the removal of Mr. Wang. His crew will be here in moments. The firecrackers will mask what just happened. Casual onlookers, startled by the gunfire, will run into the street, or look around. They will only see Mr. Chan’s firecrackers and it will convince them there were only fireworks.” He nodded decisively. “Let’s return to our home and calm down.”
Anton noticed that his hands were shaking, and agreed, “Yes, let’s do that.”
Gang slapped Anton on the shoulder as they walked out of the Noodle House and into the Wu family home. “You did well Anton. You did the right thing. All those men wanted to kill us, and you helped save our lives.”
Li offered, “You watched our back. Thank you.”
“Thanks,” Anton replied as he walked with them. He silently wondered, Was I supposed to enjoy it as much as I did?
* * *
Chloe had watched with interest as another set of vans had arrived near the Noodle House.
Four had parked out the front, and another two had gone to the rear of the restaurant. Twenty men had left the vans. They’d been eager and energized. Their faces filled with intent. Their movements sure and purposeful.
The battle had unfolded before Chloe’s supernatural senses. The Wus and Anton Slayne had been easy to identify from the telltale signature heat blooms of the Ramp, and their effectiveness versus the gangsters. Chloe noted to herself, There is a qualitative difference in Anton’s Ramp, he is just like his grandfather, he has the same talent. However, he has no mastery yet. They will now run from here, and draw out Francis Mirovar and his team.
Chloe opened up her smartphone and ran an app she’d received from Dalien Morte. A cloud-based virtual phone that provided quantum encryption secured call and text messaging services that were truly untraceable. Shadowstone was not alone in its ability to preserve secrets. She sent a text message to a number provided by Morte, it read, ‘Request Contact.’
Ten seconds later a text message was transmitted by the same app back to Chloe. It read, ‘They have killed themselves, and are now ghosts.’
Chloe responded with another text. ‘The dagger is red with their blood.’
Another text message came back. ‘Contact me again in three minutes.’
Chloe waited three minutes and dialed the other phone number; it was answered after the first ring. The voice, depersonalized and masked by the communications software said, “Yes?”
“Tell your master there is a Shadowstone facility in Jerusalem at these coordinates,” Chloe directed, and sent the GPS coordinates as a text message. “The Vampire Dominion have sent two praetorians and six enhanced Shadowstone operatives to Jerusalem. They’re a direct threat to your master and need to be eliminated.”
“I will pass this message on. Is there anything else?”
“Only this - who is Francis Mirovar?”
“My Order of Thoth force leader.”
The line went dead.
Interesting, Chloe observed, the Raven is with Francis Mirovar’s team. She then used Shadowstone technology to send a text to Marcus Drake. ‘Some friendly advice, on missions, always be ready to fight, and find your own place to sleep.’
Chloe smiled broadly; her long-range plan against Crane was progressing well as Anton continued to develop his capabilities. She walked along the parapet to the side of the building. Her limousine was parked in a back alley with her driver waiting inside. She leaped over the edge, falling the three floors to the empty side alley below, landing easily on her feet, she made her way to the car.
Getting into the back of the vehicle she commanded, “Back to the airport. I need to be in New York City as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the driver replied.
Chloe relaxed in the back seat of the car as it pulled smoothly away, reflecting on what she had learned this night. Soon the Order of Thoth and the Red Empire will distract Crane with rising threats on both sides and allow me to break my promise to him to deliver Francis Mirovar and his team. Anton, what a find he is, if he can match his grandfather, he will be the perfect weapon for my final strategy.
Life was a never-ending thrilling adventure.
I need to keep working on Anton’s motivations. He trembles on the edge of bloodlust - I need to push him over that edge and make him embrace the wild power within.
* * *
James Haley stared at his screen, replaying the video for the third time.
The result was still the same. A set of specialized cameras, telescopic microphones and motion trackers on the roof of the building provided a ghostly, but detailed video stream of the interior of the restaurant. The video showed a hail of submachine gun fire throughout the main room of the restaurant. Gang and Li Wu simply moved from the back of the room to the front of the room, and a handful of seconds later more than a dozen heavily armed thugs were on the floor.
In the back of the restaurant, Anton Slayne had taken on another six gangsters armed to the teeth with the same result; including one big brute of a man who had been thrown through the back door into the rear alleyway as if he was fired from a circus cannon.
James replayed the video again in slow motion on the main screen. The gangsters moved as if standing in treacle. The Wus moved much faster. Every step launching themselves forward, ahead of a storm of bullets that ripped apart the furniture and walls behind them.
Johnson exclaimed incredulously, “That’s impossible!”
Higgins demanded with avid fascination, “Whatever they’re on, I want some of that.”
“Can it,” James commanded harshly. “What we just saw doesn’t leave this room.”
“Huh?” Higgins grunted.
“Scrub the local server disks - do it now before this is swept onto the Panopticon server farm.”
“Yes, Sir,” Johnson replied.
“On it,” Higgins responded.
“I want the disks reformatted, and run scramblers on them - this data must never be recovered.”
His team worked at fever pitch to comply. The Panopticon would sweep a copy of all new data on the local server disk drives every ten minutes. To ensure that the data disappeared it was necessary that reformat processes had begun across all the local disks to avoid the new data being picked up in the next sweep.
As the two men worked, Wesson caught his eye. Her face was pale, she smiled wanly as if she’d just been given a death sentence.
James looked back at his men. Is this something we were never meant to see? Who can dodge bullets and walk away from a gun fight, and no one knows about it? And how did Gang Wu find out so much about Shadowstone? He knows who we are. What the hell is really going on here? Who is Anton Smith, or should I say Anton Slayne?
* * *
Louise Wesson watched the replays of the fight in the Noodle House with a growing sense of horror.
She’d counted six men through the back door, and fourteen through the front door. All armed with submachine guns and an assortment of edged or blunt weapons. The front door gangsters had emptied their clips, around four hundred rounds of ammunition. The Wus should have been slaughtered, instead, they were still standing, and it was the gangsters who were lying in pools of their own blood.
From the first bullet to the grenade going off was less than nine seconds. She vowed to tread carefully; it is always possible to know too much. In her previous career, she’d already pulled the trigger on more than a dozen CIA operatives who had understood more than they should have. She assessed the risk. The next twenty-four hours would be critical to her survival.
