A subtle agency omnibus, p.28
A Subtle Agency Omnibus, page 28
part #1 of The Metaframe War Series
James dialed the lead operatives from the Yellow-3 Spectrum team at Fort Dix and the Shadowstone PSYOPS crews. He confirmed a massive cleanup operation on the Boston warehouse site. It would be a piece of work to clean up the physical mess and spin what happened tonight for the media. No one in Shadowstone would be getting any sleep in the next twenty-four hours.
Once the gears of the Shadowstone machine had been put into motion, he returned to check on the special forces operatives that had arrived with General Armitage. The closest were the two killed by Gang Wu. They were obviously dead, especially the African American, who’d been cut in half through the chest. The other, a large red-headed man lay on his back, his jaw agape in apparent shock.
In the warehouse floodlights, James’ attention was drawn by something odd with his mouth. He crouched next to the body, checked the upper teeth, and exclaimed with shock, “What the hell?!” He’s got canines like a dog or a wolf.
James stood up, his breathing accelerated, a very unfamiliar shiver of dread racing up his spine. He deliberately took a couple of slow, deep breaths, turned and checked the special forces operative who’d been chopped in half. He’s got fangs too.
James checked the other three bodies on the dock. There was the weird one that still stood upright. He circled warily around it. Some blood had leaked from the headless neck. It struck him that there should have been a lot more - then he laughed out loud with a touch of hysteria, quickly stopped and shook his head. What’s stranger? The lack of blood or not falling down? He pressed on the corpse’s chest, pushing the body over. Blood sluiced from the open neck wound like a tipped bucket, spreading out in a pool. Was the heart stopped? The body was stiff from the get go - paralyzed.
James checked the severed head and the other two bodies. They all had a pair of prominent one-inch canines that were clearly not human. His mind whirled, he felt dizzy; his world spinning out of control. Superhuman speed and strength. Why did we have to wait until night for them to arrive? Have I ever seen General Armitage in daylight?
James rubbed his chin, and muttered to himself, “Looks like I’m not in Kansas anymore.”
No witnesses - now that makes a lot of sense. He looked around. There are still our wounded in the parking lot, there is another one of these - vampires - still in the warehouse. There is the nightfalcon in the river and its pilot who is probably also a vampire, and where is General Armitage?
“At the bottom of the river? Still alive or dead?” he whispered. James frowned, his disciplines kicking into gear, his voice raised to normal volume and he declared, “I’ll have to do something about this. I can’t leave these bodies here for anyone else to find.”
James walked back to the dead Shadowstone operatives and collected a satchel of hand grenades. These should do it. He stared at the closest of the dead vampires. He pulled a pin on a grenade, lobbing it so that it rolled to a stop next to the vampire’s head. The grenade exploded, obliterating the head, leaving no evidence of anything that could be seen as nonhuman.
Yes, that will do.
James pulled the pin on a second grenade.
* * *
Memories flashed through Chloe Armitage’s mind.
The violent impact of the heavy machine gun rounds as they tore through her torso, throwing her backward in a mist of her own blood. The edge of the cabin door smashing into the side of her face as she fell out of the helicopter. Her combat helmet coming free as she hit the surface of the river. The dreadful sight of her own nightfalcon coming straight at her, and finally the concussive force of the armored front of the helicopter as it smashed her into oblivion.
Now she was awake, half buried in the mud and drowning in the dark, cloudy water.
She felt panic rising, driven by the hemorrhaging from the two .50 caliber bullets that had drilled holes beneath her lowest left rib, and through the bottom part of her right lung. The sword cut that ran through her upper chest burned, adding to the blood loss. Her heart raced. She closed her eyes, willed herself to relax to quell the panic and shock. She slowed her heart to a level that would stem the flow of blood leaking from her body. The world collapsed around her as her perceptions shrank to a single focused point. Her left leg was trapped beneath the nose of the helicopter - she must move it or die.
She drew upon the ancient training of the Order of Thoth and ramped. She activated the third of the three secret powers that she possessed. The power to achieve a supreme Ramp, a level of capability above what had been achieved by the Order of Thoth and the Red Empire in the last five thousand years. Time slowed precipitously, her heart pausing between beats. New energy exploded from the base of her spine, flooding through her body. Sinews like steel cords responded, bone stronger than iron bore forces that would crush any other vampire. Stiff, unyielding fingers punched through the metal armor of the nightfalcon and with a single convulsive movement she ripped the nose of the helicopter apart.
With her leg free, she swam upward through a murky darkness that could defeat even the vision of a vampire. She slowed as she reached the surface. Letting only her face break out into the night air, she expelled the bloody water in her lungs and took a single ragged breath. Allowing herself to sink back down, she turned, swimming away from the remains of the battle toward the far shore of the Mystic River.
The pain grew, threatening to overwhelm her, but she crushed it with her will. She covered five hundred yards underwater in just under five minutes. Her head emerged out of the river. She took a shallow breath, then another, and another. With each breath, she expanded her lungs a little further. She gritted her teeth, hissing in agony on each exhale. She glared and spat blood. Her wet hair clung to her scalp. Her eyes were black and bloodshot, and a dark bruise shadowed her right cheek.
Wading slowly through the mud to shore, she staggered out of the river and onto an open expanse of well-maintained lawn and trees. The park was clear of people except for two Boston Police Department cruisers sitting with their lights strobing at opposite ends of the grassy reserve.
She gravitated toward the nearer of the two vehicles. She could already smell the delicious aroma of the men inside; they were both young, fit and fresh. Her throat burned with thirst. A desperate desire filled her body, threatening to overwhelm her mind.
Behind her, she heard the distant crump of an exploding grenade. She glanced backward. James Haley rolled another grenade next to the head of one of the fallen praetorians. It promptly exploded, erasing the visible evidence of vampirism from the corpse.
She’d been right not to kill him.
Chloe turned back toward the police cruiser. It was only twenty yards away and both of the officers had emerged from the car. They seemed unsure of what to do.
Was she friend or foe? They couldn’t know. With her damaged body armor, she looked like a wounded special operations soldier, who was clearly in need of help.
The vampiric thirst was upon her. She needed blood or she would die of her wounds within minutes. Her hand brushed past her sword scabbard and found nothing there. A pang of loss ripped through her. Damn … the Red Dragon - it’s back in the river.
She staggered, dropping to one knee, putting out her hand in supplication. She implored the young officers, “Help me. Please help me. I’ve been shot.”
The officers both moved forward, in a moment they were beside her, each taking an arm to support her.
“Who are you?” the first one asked.
“What happened? Where are you shot?” the other said.
“‘What are you?’ would be a better question,” Chloe remarked coldly. Snapping both of their necks before they could react. A second later she plunged her fangs into the throat of the nearest of the men as he lay slumped on the ground and proceeded to drain his blood. He died of blood loss before his fractured neck and severed spinal cord could kill him.
She stood up, her body feverishly processing the fresh, hot blood. Immediately she felt better, stronger, refreshed. Pushing a finger through one of the bullet holes in the front of her body armor, it came to a halt against her flesh knitting beneath the ceramic plates.
She looked longingly at the expanse of black water. The Red Dragon sang a siren song in her mind. She considered swimming back out and retrieving it from the bottom of the river.
Did she have time to get it?
She looked across the park, the other police cruiser still waited. With the cruiser’s flashing lights stealing their night vision, and given the distance, the police officers probably didn’t know their colleagues were already dead.
She would have to make sure.
Her smartphone vibrated, she laughed with surprise. Pulling it from its pouch on her combat webbing, she opened it up. There was a message from Marcus Drake that read, ‘The Jerusalem Shadowstone facility has been attacked and destroyed by the Red Empire, only Haras Mosule and I have escaped. M.’
“Excellent,” she whispered, closing the phone and putting it away. She took a deep breath and let it out, her lungs felt whole again.
Chloe looked down at the fallen officers, searched them and found the car keys and their Glock 9mm handguns. Carrying the men to the cruiser, she stuffed them into the trunk. She had to bend and break their bodies in several spots to make them both fit into the available space. She went to the cabin, ripped out the camera system and crushed it with her bare hands. She smashed the GPS, and all other systems that could be used to track the vehicle. She then got into the car and drove it to where the other police cruiser waited on the other side of the park.
She could see the two men in the car looking at her without seeing her. With both police cruisers running their strobe lights, it was impossible for a human to see into the cabin past the reflection on the windscreen.
Chloe stepped out of her car with a Glock pistol in each hand, emptying both clips as fast as she could pull the trigger into the cabin of the police car. For good measure, she pulled a pair of grenades from her combat webbing, lobbing them through the shattered windscreen and into the cabin of the BPD cruiser.
She was already back in the stolen car, pulling away with a roaring engine and screeching tires when the grenades ripped the second police cruiser apart.
There would be no witnesses.
Chloe plotted a course to the Boston Shadowstone facility housing the R.I.S.C front company. It had a small permanent staff who could be relied upon to dispose of the police cruiser and a pair of bodies. It also had a helicopter pad on the roof of the building that would allow for easy transport to the Vampire Dominion citadel in New York City. She pulled her smartphone out again, set it to hands-free, and voice dialed James Haley. There was no answer. She then voice dialed Louise Wesson’s phone, and James answered it.
“Yes?”
“You recognize my voice?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m glad to see you’re still alive.”
Chloe laughed sardonically, “I’m sure you are.”
“Ma’am?”
“Status report.”
“Gang Wu is dead. All the other Order of Thoth members have escaped with his body. I have already initiated a cleanup detail using the Yellow-3 spectrum team and I have activated a PSYOPS crew. They will be on site in about two hours. In another five minutes, there will be no witnesses. Do you have any new orders?”
“It is imperative that you make sure that this mess gets cleaned up properly. Get divers into the river. There is a nightfalcon on the bottom. Use the GPS logs from the Panopticon to recover the craft and the pilot. You will also find a sword nearby. I must emphasize, do not stop looking until you have the sword, once you have it secured, call me immediately on my personal line.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” James answered.
There was only one reason why he would be dropping grenades onto dead praetorians - he knew the truth - dead vampires do tell tales.
“James, you have done well to survive tonight. Keep doing your job, ensuring that all evidence is wiped clean and the sword is recovered, and I’m sure that your career in Shadowstone will continue to prosper.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am.”
Chloe heard a trace of uncertainty in James’ voice, it was clear he was still coming to terms with his discovery.
She hung up the call and relaxed, setting a tiny fraction of her mind to operate the police cruiser while she reflected upon her plans. With the battle done, it shocked her how closely she’d come to dying. Death had brushed her in the past, more than once, but this was the closest she’d ever come to her own end.
Gang Wu was a genius with the blade, he almost had her. Then the helicopter, if she’d stayed unconscious a little longer, she would have drowned or bled to death.
It was a shame to kill someone who handled a blade as beautifully as Gang Wu did. She’d felt something like regret at the end when she drew the blades out. Such a waste, but what were her options? The plan must progress.
She sniffed and then laughed out loud. The past was gone. She’d watched Anton and Li during the battle, they had fought hard to protect each other. Love? Or something close to it.
Chloe smiled, factoring the possibility of using Li Wu as another lever with which to move Anton toward her own desired goal.
Anton is now with the Mirovar team, he will most likely find a place within it. His skills and power will increase. I must keep the pressure on, I do not have time to waste. I feel certain Crane will have done with me once he has all the Metaframe artifacts or discovers my plan. I must be certain of the relationship between Crane and the Order, is Ramin Kain a traitor as Gang Wu believed, and if so, how can I turn that to my purpose? I must make best use of the Red Empire agent within Francis Mirovar’s team; the Raven must be put to work.
With the Red Empire attack in Jerusalem, and this defeat by the Order so close to home, Crane will be distracted and off-balance, he will not see the subtle agency of my plan.
Chloe shivered in anticipation; her pulse quickened. There is a reason for my gifts, a purpose beyond my life. Crane will be defeated and a new order will come to this world, an order based on the truth that I will reveal.
Her eyes glistened as she drove the police cruiser into the basement parking garage of the R.I.S.C building.
Time to go to the citadel, I must manage Crane’s fury and turn it to my advantage.
* * *
James pulled his Glock 9mm from its holster at his hip, and crouched next to the unconscious Louise Wesson.
No witnesses. The General’s orders had been explicit, and he wouldn’t fail her again. He put the Glock against Wesson’s temple, his hand trembling slightly. He pulled the gun away and took a breath. He then placed the gun back to an inch from her ear and now it was steady as a rock. He began to pull the trigger.
Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned. “What … happened?”
He lifted the Glock away, placing his left hand gently over her head and asked softly, “What do you remember?”
“Owww,” Wesson moaned. Her hand came up and rubbed her forehead. “The teams … Red, Blue and Green … they’ve just arrived. Where am I?”
“On the dock. There’s been a battle. It went badly for us. We’re the only survivors.”
James stood up, holstering his gun.
Wesson convulsed, vomiting the contents of her stomach, the mess splashing across James’ boots.
He sighed; took off his flak jacket and made a hard pillow for Wesson’s head. He directed, “Rest here, I’ll be back soon.”
Wesson murmured an answer he couldn’t make out.
James strode away. He pulled a silencer from a pouch at his belt, fitting it to the barrel of his Glock. He walked around the warehouse and back out to the parking lot.
The wounded men, patched up as much as they could be, waited patiently for medical extraction.
James strode up to his men as they rested under the big tree near the site entrance. They looked at him with curious eyes. He hid the silenced Glock behind his back.
Another seven good men who will have to make the ultimate sacrifice.
James pulled the gun up, firing until the twenty-round magazine was empty.
He shook his head, turning back toward the warehouse and Louise Wesson. Fragments of the recorded conversation from the previous morning flitted like ghosts through his mind, the words of Gang Wu prominent amongst them.
Who the hell am I really working for? The Vampire Dominion?
* * *
It was a clear summer night as the RHIB powered along the Mystic River.
With his emotions grinding their pitiless way through his soul, Anton looked up at the stars, questions hurtling through his mind. His wild ramp on the dock, visions in the midst of combat, a crowned Chloe Armitage. There were no answers, only the raw emotions of loss and a driving need to act. Gang was like family. No - he was family. He treated me like a son and now he’s gone.
Rage struck him, a red wave that rocked him to his core. He glanced at Li, she sat next to him, her hands resting limply in her lap. She’d arranged Gang’s remaining hand over his chest, his other arm lay along his side, hiding the fact that it ended just above the wrist. His eyes were closed, someone had put a jacket over his chest. He looked peaceful like he was asleep - except for the deathly pallor of his skin.
Anton wrapped his arm around Li. She shivered and he pulled her closer. She turned her head, crying quietly into his chest.
She’s torn to pieces.
Anton clenched his teeth, a dark fury boiling within him.
Li put her arms around him, turned her head on the side in his lap and squeezed him tightly. He stroked her hair, brushing it away from her forehead. He felt the dark fire within wither and retreat. His eyes filled with tears, he bent his head forward, weeping quietly.
A slender woman with dark, wavy hair approached and suggested gently, “Your shoulder needs suturing and I think we should check your right foot, there is definitely something wrong there.”
