She voice activated her smartphone. The phone dialed a voice conference number for the troop leaders within the three nightfalcon helicopters waiting at Logan Airport. Once the call connected, the men identified themselves.

  Louise commanded, “The mission is on, Get yourselves in the air now. Red-1 and Blue-5 bring your teams into the parking lot on the city side of the warehouse, Green-4 take the end of the dock on the Mystic River and hold it. Gentleman, this is a cordon operation. We take and hold a position, and enforce a line that no one crosses, is that understood.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” the men replied.

  The Green-4 troop leader asked a question, “Ma’am, what are the rules of engagement on this operation?”

  “Standard engagement model for a cordon, don’t shoot unless the targets fire first.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Any other questions?” she asked.

  “No, Ma’am,” they all answered.

  “You have your orders,” Louise declared and disconnecting the call.

  With her kit bag packed, Louise carried an FN P90 submachine gun slung over her right shoulder, and a Glock 9mm holstered at her hip. Wiping away the perspiration from her forehead, she adjusted her cap over her straight brown hair, put on mirrored sunglasses and descended the long metal staircase that spiraled down and around the tower. In ninety seconds, she’d reached the ground. Hefting the kit bag over her shoulder, she lifted her speed, making for the parking lot half a mile away. She anticipated arriving at the parking lot entrance in less than five minutes.

  Loping easily through the industrial estate, Louise reflected on the last twenty-four hours. Events were coming to a head. She was still alive. She hadn’t been purged by James Haley, and he hadn’t even looked like he was about to take that sort of action - which was a good sign. The Order of Thoth operatives were in the warehouse, which with three heavily armed nightfalcon gunships and nearly fifty fully armed Shadowstone operatives inbound looked like nothing less than a death trap for them.

  A trace of doubt lurked at the back of her mind. The Order of Thoth operatives were exceptional. She was honest enough to admit she knew almost nothing about them, or their combat techniques. A quote from Sun Tzu’s, The Art of War, came to mind on the topic of knowing your enemy. ‘If you know others and know yourself, you will win every battle; if you do not know others but know yourself, you win one and lose one; if you do not know others and do not know yourself, you will lose every single battle.’

  She understood the capabilities of the Shadowstone operatives coming to the warehouse, but of the Order of Thoth, she knew next to nothing. We are about to flip a coin, and the outcome will be uncertain.

  Louise hated uncertainty.

  She ran on, reaching the edge of the parking lot. Haley’s car was parked under the shade of a large tree near the entrance to the site. He was standing next to his car, still wearing his suit, smoking a cigarette and carrying a full military spec assault rifle with a red dot laser sight and an under-barrel grenade launcher.

  Louise slowed to a walk to cover the final few yards. She scanned the horizon. In moments, three black specks resolved into view and rapidly expanded into the oncoming nightfalcons. Each helicopter was armed with eight laser-guided Hellfire III, and eight Stinger II missiles, an M134 Minigun at the waist, and a pair of triple-barreled GAU-19B .50 Caliber machine guns on fixed mounts beneath the cockpit. Each one carried a full troop of sixteen fully armed Shadowstone operatives, all highly skilled ex-members of various special forces, the CIA, and the NSA. A heavily armed, superbly equipped, tough, skilled and disciplined para-military force. She frowned, and silently wondered how many were going to survive tonight?

  The heavy roar of the helicopters’ jet turbines shattered the afternoon air as they split formation to come into land. Two came to a halt in the parking lot and the third came to rest at the end of the dock on the far side of the warehouse.

  Louise shielded her face from the backwash of the rotor blades. Darkly armored Shadowstone operatives streamed from the helicopters in four-man squads. They deployed rapidly to form a perimeter around the warehouse. In less than three minutes there was a ring of armed men ready to kill anyone who might attempt to cross their line.

  Louise glanced at Haley, he grinned confidently at her, his face lit with a fierce desire. She turned and studied the forbidding massiveness of the warehouse. This place reeks of secrets - we will be lucky to survive tonight.

  She checked her P90 submachine gun, ejected the standard clip and loaded a fifty-round strip of high-velocity, armor-piercing rounds from her kit bag. She added three spare clips of the same premium ammunition, and four anti-personnel fragmentation grenades to pouches on her combat webbing. She checked the communications links with the four spectrum teams on site and the red, blue, green and indigo squad leaders all reported in.

  A sardonic smile curled her lips, her eyes becoming flint like. If tonight is going to be my last, let’s make sure it’s a memorable one.

  * * *

  Li was the first to hear it.

  “Helicopters,” she murmured, swiveling in her chair to face the direction the sound was coming from.

  “… Yes,” Gang agreed. “Nightfalcons.”

  “Shadowstone?” Anton asked.

  “Yes,” Gang replied calmly. “They’re here.”

  The monitors linked to the external CCTV cameras provided a clear view of the warehouse surrounds. They watched the helicopters land and the Shadowstone troops begin to deploy to form a perimeter.

  “Why haven’t they taken out our cameras?” Anton queried. It was the first thing he would have done.

  “A good question,” Gang acknowledged. He paused for a moment, studying the displays. “Looks like a cordon. They’re here to stop us leaving. They probably are forbidden from attacking us - for now.”

  Li turned away from the monitors and reported, “Three helicopter gunships and nearly fifty troops, all in combat armor and carrying assault rifles with grenade launchers. There are at least three snipers with .50 caliber rifles. From what I can see, the helicopters have two fixed, heavy caliber miniguns in the hull, a waist mount M134 minigun, and Hellfire and Stinger missiles.”

  “I’ve not heard of Shadowstone doing this before,” Gang observed with a frown. “They’re armed for war.”

  Anton shook his head with disappointment. “They followed me here.”

  “Spilled milk,” Li noted.

  “Don’t worry Anton, we’re prepared for this possibility,” Gang advised him. “Li, please stay here and keep watch. I’ll show Anton what I showed you earlier.” Gang beckoned Anton with a wave of his hand. “Follow me. Now is the time for you to pick up arms.” He led Anton back down to the warehouse floor and over to an open shipping container. Nearby were thick chains and an open heavy padlock that was half a foot across.

  “Anton, this was prepared by your grandfather. He gave me the key to this container when I last saw him and he told me about its contents. Now, wait here,” Gang instructed, and entered the shipping container. He rummaged about for a long moment, and then emerged with a large military grade lock box which he sat down on the floor in front of Anton. He flipped open the lid and directed, “Look here.”

  Inside the box were five multi-barreled grenade launchers. Each weapon had been daubed with paint, two were blue, two were red, and the last one was white.

  “These are modified Milkor MGLs, they carry six 40x46mm caliber grenades and have an auto-fire mode that will shoot at a rate of three grenades per second. The blue ones are loaded with grenades that have a hundred and ten pure silver flechettes. They’re an excellent weapon to use against vampires. It’s a lot like firing a giant shotgun round without the recoil. The red ones carry a standard high-explosive round with a shaped charge that is best against a vehicle, and can also be used as an anti-personnel weapon versus humans or vampires. The white is a thermobaric round - big explosion, lots of heat, and absolutely lethal within the blast radius.”

  “Wow! Which one should I use?” Anton asked excitedly.

  “Oh my God! None of them,” Gang declared. “You don’t have enough training for these.” He walked back into the container and came out carrying a long thick barreled gun with a large magazine in one hand, in his other hand he held a much smaller submachine gun. He gave both weapons to Anton.

  Gang pointed to the large gun and explained, “This is an AA-12 automatic shotgun with a thirty-two-round magazine. It’s good up to about a hundred yards, and is excellent in this sort of environment.”

  Gang pointed at the submachine gun. It had a red-dot sight on top of the barrel, and a short magazine, and instructed, “This is a Heckler and Koch MP7 A2 personal defense weapon with a twenty-round magazine. It has a high rate of fire like the MAC-10s that the Hu Shizu used in the Noodle House, but it is a far more accurate and reliable weapon. It is also loaded with high performance rounds optimized to deal with human body armor.”

  Anton studied the guns and asked, “Which is best against vampires?”

  “Neither, the plan is to be out of here before the vampires arrive. In a pinch, you can use either gun, but you need to be up close, and it is best to shoot them from behind, or else they will dodge. In fact, with all the weapons I have shown you, it is always best to shoot a vampire from behind and up close.”

  Gang frowned. “Except of course the grenades, you need some distance there.”

  Anton smiled wryly. “Makes sense.”

  Gang scratched his ear and observed, “Except for the silver flechettes, you can use those up close as there is no explosion.”

  “There are a lot of exceptions.”

  Gang nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “What can I say - they’re vampires - fighting them is a difficult business.”

  Anton nodded. “Clearly, but what is your best advice?”

  “The trick is getting yourself in the right position to attack them. What makes that so difficult is that their senses are extraordinary. However, they can be hazed by sensory clutter. Too much noise, odd smells, and lots of smoke can temporarily throw them off and give you a chance to make an effective attack. Just what the interior of this warehouse will be like tonight.”

  “What do you mean?” Anton asked.

  Gang grinned. “I will show you shortly.”

  “If the environment is full of clutter, won’t we be affected just the same?”

  “We have less sensory power to lose, it will level the playing field.”

  “Okay, how do I use these guns?”

  Gang proceeded to give Anton a five-minute lesson in how to hold, point, fire, reload and flick the safety switch on both weapons.

  “Don’t worry about learning to shoot straight, use your Ramp awareness and focus on pointing the weapon exactly where you are looking and accuracy will look after itself. We will place ammunition reloads at precise locations so that you can move from one position to the next without running out of ammo. Our speed will act as a force multiplier. Anton, this is the key to survival, rely on your speed and the natural cover within the warehouse. Once combat starts, keep moving, and never stand still.”

  Gang looked at his wristwatch. “It’s nearly six hours to sunset. That’s when the Order will arrive.”

  “And the vampires too?”

  Gang nodded. “Most likely.”

  Anton felt a mixture of fear and excitement as he chambered a round into the automatic shotgun. The weapon made a satisfying click as it became armed. It felt completely natural in his hands as if it had been made for him. He trained the weapon on a far corner of the warehouse and sighted along the barrel.

  Anton felt a shiver run up his spine and he turned to Gang. “Whose gun is this?”

  “It was your grandfather’s, one of his favorites.”

  Lugging a large box from the container labeled, ‘Warning: Pyrotechnics: Keep away from flame.’ Gang requested, “Anton, please help me with these tricks, we have some preparations to make before our guests arrive.”

  Fireworks, Anton noted, and replied, “Sure.” He stepped over to help Gang unload the box. He smiled grimly as he worked with Gang to set a range of traps around the warehouse. It was time for some payback.

  * * *

  The mid-afternoon summer sun beat down upon the city of Boston.

  James Haley assembled the troop and squad leaders under the shade of the trees near the site entrance. He wore a discrete headset that used his Shadowstone smartphone to link with his laptop, the Panopticon, and the communication links of the assembled combat leaders. Beside him, Louise Wesson stood, wearing her own combat gear and her “game on” face partially hidden behind her mirrored sunglasses.

  The eight Red-1 and Blue-5 combat leaders all wore matt black combat armor and tactical helmets provided with an extensive suite of sensors and communications links. They carried their weapons easily and were alert, relaxed and ready for action. The Green-4 squad leaders remained at their post on the dock, and were networked in by the tactical communication links.

  James stood in front of the group and addressed his men, “This cordon has to be airtight. I don’t want anyone or anything crossing it until this mission is done. Our task is to ensure that the three Order of Thoth terrorists in that warehouse,” he thrust his finger at the massive building, “stay there until General Armitage arrives tonight with her own special forces to deal with them.”

  “Sir?” One of the squad leaders asked.

  “Yes?”

  “I think we are attracting some unwanted attention,” the squad leader remarked with a nod toward the street where small huddles of people stood watching the proceedings.

  James glanced around, snorted derisively, looked at his watch, and directed, “The BPD will be providing an outer perimeter, they should be here in five minutes. Our cover is simple; this is a counter-terrorism exercise. The BPD will play ball and keep the locals from getting in the way.”

  James turned to his senior team leader and asked, “Wesson, what’s the status on the RHIB, they’re not showing up on my network comms.”

  “It’s on station, a hundred yards off the dock.”

  “What’s on it?”

  “A single squad from Indigo-6. The RHIB itself is a thirty-six-footer. It carries a fore mounted Mk-19 grenade launcher, a rear mounted M2 .50 caliber heavy machine gun, and a quad mount FIM-92 Block II Stinger surface to air missile system amidships.”

  “You could start a war with that. Make sure they keep moving up and down the river and they keep a lookout for anything that could assist a river exfiltration. These Order terrorists didn’t choose this site by accident. Make sure your men have their heads on a swivel, and get them connected to my comms link.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  James faced his men and demanded, “I need two snipers and an electrical power expert. We need to take out all their external CCTV cameras and cut the power to the warehouse, who is available?”

  The squad leaders responded quickly, issuing commands across secured links and five men dropped out of the cordon. Two men in pairs took up positions on either side of the warehouse, and in less than twenty seconds, eight single shots had been fired and eight CCTV cameras had been turned into mangled lumps of twisted metal and sputtering power cables.

  The fifth man ran to the Blue-5 nightfalcon, and extracted a kit from the helicopter. He went to a nearby electrical power distribution pole. Scaling it with a special climbing rig, he selected and cut some key wires. Turning, he gave James a thumbs up, before descending to the ground and returning to his position in the cordon.

  James consulted the Panopticon satellite view of the warehouse, switching on a specialized filter to examine what he expected to be a dead zone of zero electrical activity. In the distance, a diesel engine came online. A soft thrumming from a hundred and fifty yards in front of him. He frowned, looking down at his screen. The warehouse was a spaghetti maze of electrical cables - all alive. He switched filters, there was a plume of hot exhaust escaping a three-inch pipe jutting out of the roof midway along the right side of the warehouse.

  James grinned wryly and muttered, “Damn. Well okay, you have a backup generator but not for long.” He signaled one of the Red-1 squad leaders, gave him some quick instructions, and a minute later the Red-1 nightfalcon was lifting off from the parking lot.

  James noted that half a dozen BPD cruisers and vans had shown up on Bedford Street, more than twenty police officers were setting up temporary roadblocks and police line tape to keep the public away. He sighed, they will certainly get a show, I will need a PSYOPS crew to come in and spin this operation for general consumption. The Red-1 nightfalcon took up a position facing the right-side wall, a hundred and twenty yards away from the warehouse. He slaved the helicopter’s combat system to his laptop and fed in the Panopticon supplied location of the diesel generator. It sat on the ground level of the warehouse, butting up against the wall. The Panopticon specs for the building indicated the walls were three feet of steel-reinforced stone masonry.

  The helicopter veered slightly to the left, settling about ten yards off the ground, its nose down at a slight angle. The men in the cordon backed away and gave the helicopter plenty of space.

  James smiled, and gave the order to fire.

  Showtime!

  Beneath the cockpit of the nightfalcon, two multi-barreled heavy machine guns opened fire with the unique sound that Gatling guns make, like a thickly woven mat being torn in half overlaid with an electric whirr. The sound started and didn’t stop. Gray smoke streamed from the mouths of the guns, swirling away in the wash from the helicopter’s rotor blades. Spent casings dropped like confetti from beneath the spinning machine gun barrels. The bullets flashed into a mark two yards in diameter at the base of the wall, every fifth round a bright tracer, the rest were depleted uranium penetrators.

 

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