A subtle agency omnibus, p.58
A Subtle Agency Omnibus, page 58
part #1 of The Metaframe War Series
Li was exposed on the other side where Jay, Yvette, and Chiara fought against three opponents, including one from the core group who had been wounded with a chair by Justin.
Jay swept with his left foot, unbalancing the nearest assassin. Yvette attacked high with a flashing kick across the man’s chest. He fell back hard, sliding across the floor toward Li.
Ramped or not, Li’s physiology was ramp conditioned. Her bones, muscles, and nerves were harder, stronger and faster than any normal human could hope to match. She leaned forward, grasping the man’s head and with a quick, simple motion - snapped his neck.
He immediately went limp.
“Swords?” she asked, indicating with a nod.
Jay and Yvette grabbed another fallen blade each. Jay stayed to assist Peter, while Yvette rushed toward Chiara.
“That felt good,” Li declared with a smile, sitting back within the circle defended by Peter and Jay.
After all, she could only speak the truth.
* * *
The Raven fought in tandem with another Mirovar force team member against a pair of Red Empire assassins.
They were horrified by the attack. What were the Red Empire doing here? The only other person who knew about the safe house outside the Order was Shabbah al Ahmar’s other agent. The voice on the other end of the calls. The one who had asked them to bug Ramin Kain’s phone.
The one who could be a rogue agent?
But the Red Empire never moved in numbers this great without authorization from the Red Ghost.
The Raven blurred, artfully defending against a flurry of attacks. They knew their team mates well, having trained with them for years. Fighting in tandem with any of them was a seamless process.
The floor was becoming treacherous with the blood and bodies of Order and Red Empire dead. The Raven fought for their life and their mission. The Red Empire assassins in the room were either ignorant of or indifferent to, the presence of a Red Empire spy within the Mirovar force team. The Raven considered the former to be the most likely option. They fought blindly against their own colleague, and if they died by the Raven’s hand, it was for a good cause.
A large Red Empire assassin appeared at the door.
Reinforcements?
The man’s cowl had fallen away, his face veil hung in tatters. He was armed with a pair of sais. His fair skin stood out, his blue eyes flashed, his blond hair was cropped short.
The Raven almost died as memory flooded through their Ramp. Red Empire blades slashing past their throat. Years of childhood training and dedication to the craft of edged weapons just barely managed to save their life.
It was Marcus Drake.
The Raven had been schooled on every important opponent, and the chief lieutenant of general Chloe Armitage was near the top of the list.
Sheathing his sais at his belt, Drake picked up a fallen katana, leaping into the fray in front of the table. A pair of Order guards and Luther were fighting like madmen against the main strength of the Red Empire troop. Beyond them, Francis waited with Juliette, the White Dragon a vision of lethal stillness in his hand. Kain, his eyes darting left and right, stood with his back hard up against the wall.
The Raven threw themselves back into the fight. Their soul raged. They had been deceived beyond their worst nightmare. The Red Ghost had allied themselves with the hidden voice in an act of supreme treachery. The secret voice, the killer of the praetorians on the water tower, the agent who was not of the Red Empire. The one who had played the Raven for a fool. The pieces of the puzzle clicked neatly into place, the voice could only belong to general Chloe Armitage.
Shabbah al Ahmar was in league with the vampires.
Interposing themselves between their team mate and the assassins, they struck with all the righteous fury of the betrayed.
Nothing could withstand the full force of their true faith.
The Raven burned with a horrifying light, and their opponents burned before them.
* * *
Peter blurred forward, Yvette dove into the fray, and Chiara launched a ferocious attack.
…
Peter’s left axe caught an assassin’s right sword. His right axe trapped the man’s left sword. He pushed outward, spread-eagling his opponent. Stepping in close, his head jerked forward, his forehead crashing into the assassin’s face.
The assassin went limp on his feet. Blood fountaining from his smashed nose, he started to fall.
Peter’s axes flashed in and across each other. The man’s head sailed away. His body, jetting blood from the severed vessels in his neck, crumpled to the floor.
…
A dozen feet away, Yvette’s left foot lashed out catching her opponent’s hand, his blade spinning away.
The assassin lunged forward with his remaining sword.
Batting the blade to her right with her left hand, she stepped within his strike as it went past her shoulder. Her right hand flashed up, her blade disappearing under the man’s ribcage. The point erupting in a spray of blood at the base of the man’s neck.
He shivered on her blade, his eyes bulging from his head.
Yvette hissed through clenched teeth. Twisting the blade, she ripped it up and out of his chest, slashing through his ribcage, heart, and lungs.
The assassin fell at her feet, dead before he hit the floor.
…
Chiara flew through the air, her feet blurring into her opponent’s face.
He blurred away, taking at most a glancing blow.
Another assassin, his face slashed and bleeding blurred forward to replace the previous one. He carried a single sword, the twin of her own. Grimacing with rage, he attacked furiously.
She feinted aside, then ducked under his strike, before driving her sword up and under the man’s chin. The point sliced up through the assassin’s skull and he shuddered for half a second before she pulled the blade free.
She stepped aside as he fell to the floor, blood pumping from the wounds beneath his chin and on top of his head.
…
Peter dashed back into guard position next to Li and Jay. His axes dripping gore. His face speckled with blood and random flakes of bone. His eyes filled with deadly intent. Yvette, flicking her swords clear of blood stalked the room like an angel of death. Chiara, her face a mask of avenging fury joined her.
* * *
Suddenly three assassins died.
Ramin Kain’s heart leaped with hope. The tide was turning; he may yet survive this catastrophe.
Sam fought with the Order Guards, his last line of defense. Good Sam, loyal Sam, perhaps Sam would save him, he could certainly fight.
A large, Red Empire assassin, his cowl thrown back, revealing close-cropped blond hair, and wielding a stolen Order katana pushed into the battle. His sword flashed forward just as one of the Order guards defended himself from another strike. The blade shot through the gap, ripping open the man’s chest and he fell backward against the table before slumping to the floor.
The leader of the Red Empire troop lunged forward, the point of his blade beating past the deflection of the last Order guard. A line of red appeared across the guard’s throat. He reflexively reached for it. Before his hand could land on the wound, a pair of blades gutted him. He gurgled, blood sluicing past his fingers as he fell forward over the bodies of his comrades.
Two elite Red Empire assassins stalked Luther, who backed away toward Francis.
The blond assassin and the troop leader grinned at Ramin and leaped across the table toward him. Two more assassins, one sporting a broken nose followed after them.
Enough was enough. Clearly, the tide had not turned.
Ramin blurred to his right, fleeing past Francis, Juliette, and Luther. Leaping through the broken window, he disappeared into the night.
Six assassins followed after him.
* * *
Justin picked himself up from where he lay on the gravel next to the porch.
He’d been a fraction too close when the Hellfire missile had cooked off and had been dazed for a few moments. A pair of blackwidows rumbled overhead. The clash of blades rang out from the house. The air was shrouded with a smoky haze mixed with the sharp tang of burning metal. Both barns and the haystack were alight, the flames turning the yard from night into day. Half the safe house had been blown away by cannon fire.
There was no sign of the Red Empire assassin or Anton Slayne.
His MGL was empty, all the rounds expended taking down the first blackwidow. He looked around. He needed a weapon, anything would do. Half his motorcycle lay a couple of yards away. On the edge of the wreckage was the drive chain, one end lying in the gravel.
The helicopter gunships circled overhead - currently ignoring him. He assumed their crews hadn’t yet seen him move. He didn’t expect that to last and had no desire to tangle with them again - especially without weapons.
Justin was brave, but he wasn’t suicidal.
He blurred forward, stripping the chain from the wreckage in a single smooth motion. Turning, he rushed back into the house and toward the briefing room.
Passing through the doorway, the room resembled an abattoir. Blood and bodies littering the floor.
A lone Red Empire assassin was advancing on Peter. Beyond Peter, Li looked up at Justin and smiled. Jay circled past her, and Yvette and Chiara advanced toward Francis’ position. Beyond them, a knot of Red Empire assassins rammed past Luther, Francis, and Juliette toward a broken window.
Ramin Kain was nowhere to be seen.
Justin leaped forward, whipping the chain with all his strength through a diagonal slash across the lone assassin’s back. The rugged metal blurred forward, faster than anyone could follow. The chain ripped through the assassin’s body from above his right shoulder to the top of his left hip. Everything in between, in a strip an inch wide, was smashed to bloody pulp.
The man slid apart as he crumpled to the floor.
Justin stepped forward, looked at Peter and Li, and rumbled, “What did I miss?”
* * *
Ramin Kain had disappeared through the window and into the night.
The Red Empire assassins followed after him.
Francis knew that he would have to rescue the head of the Order. There was no way Kain could be allowed to fall into the hands of the Red Empire. He knew too much about the operations of the Order of Thoth.
The last of the Red Empire assassins, his nose still bleeding from being crushed with the leg of a chair by Justin, was heading for the window - his attention focused on pursuit.
The White Dragon blurred out. The man didn’t have time to register surprise as the blade passed effortlessly through his neck. His forward momentum took both his body and his head through the window, and onto the porch where he fell in a heap, his head rolling out onto the gravel of the yard.
One less opponent to thwart Kain’s rescue.
The room was cleared of assassins.
They needed to evacuate the house immediately. With no ‘friendlies’ on site, there was no reason for the helicopter gunships not to flatten the property with a pair of Hellfire missiles.
Francis directed urgently, “Juliette, Li, Yvette, Chiara, run for it out the back and head for the western tree line. The rest follow me.”
“What about Anton?” Li asked.
Francis shook his head. “There’s no time - move it.”
Francis blurred toward the window in pursuit of Kain and the Red Empire assassins. A half second later the room was empty; except for a set of lamps, a number of guttering candles, and the dead.
* * *
Chloe pivoted the nightfalcon.
Ramin Kain fled from the safe house, pursued by Marcus Drake, Nasr al Dam and the three surviving members of the elite Fist team. She was not surprised to see that only the strongest had survived the encounter with the Mirovar force team.
She signaled the blackwidows and commanded, “Cover the escape of those men heading south and meet me at the tree line. Expect immediate pursuit from ground forces.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” answered the pilots.
She opened a second comms link directly to James Haley, operating as a gunner on the helicopter gunship swinging around behind the safe house. “James, you will need to eliminate these crews. They’ve seen too much. See to it after this engagement.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” James answered flatly.
There could be no witnesses.
Chloe dropped the nightfalcon like a stone, diving down to a position well in front of Kain.
So far, everything had proceeded to plan. She frowned. Now was the critical moment where success or failure hung in the balance. She’d done everything she could to ensure the former, but there was always a chance of something unexpected occurring.
She scanned the horizon, the only potential threat to her objectives was from the Mirovar force team. She extended her senses, favoring them over the high technology of the nightfalcon.
Four members of the team were heading slowly toward the western forest. The rest were in close pursuit of the Red Empire assassins and Kain.
There was no sign of Anton Slayne, his distinctive Ramp signature was absent.
“Where’s Anton,” she murmured.
It had always been a risk that he would not survive to become the weapon that she desired.
There was nothing she could do but wait and see if he turned up.
* * *
Ramin Kain sprinted across the field.
His feet barely touched the ground. Arms pumping, knees lifting high, head still, eyes focused on a tree line a mile away. He ran like he was pursued by the devil, and he wasn’t far wrong.
He glanced back over his shoulder.
Five figures were silhouetted against the burning farm. Their faces hidden in shadow, they blurred after him, their blades faintly reflecting distant fires. Above the farm, two blackwidow gunship helicopters wheeled about, setting a new course.
They were coming for him.
Everyone was chasing him.
Ramin centered himself in his running. If he could make the tree line, he could disappear into the forest. The Red Empire assassins would have been ramping at maximum during the combat in the inquisition chamber. He’d stood back, waiting for his opportunity. He was rested. There was a good chance that he could out run them. After all, he wasn’t being chased by vampires.
He glanced back again.
A second set of figures were pursuing the assassins. Sam, and the rest of the Order. Brave Sam would save him. He just had to stay alive long enough for them to catch up.
The Red Empire assassins would be looking over their shoulders soon, and they would discover the hunters had become the hunted.
Hope flared in his heart.
A sleek, black nightfalcon emerged from the night sky. It swooped down, hovering a dozen feet off the ground. The canopy reflected the distant fires raging at the farm. It rested in front of him, a hundred yards before the tree line, like a great black insect or predatory bird.
Ramin zigged to the right.
The nightfalcon slid in the same direction.
He zagged to the left.
The nightfalcon moved again, blocking his path.
A shiver shot up his back, his anal sphincter puckered and shrank. The assassins were surely making ground as he attempted to evade the black helicopter. He couldn’t tell without looking, their pursuit had been conducted in near silence.
He didn’t dare risk slowing down for another look back.
The blackwidows rumbled louder as they approached from behind.
“Damn it, Sam,” he snapped in desperation. “Where are you.”
Time was running out.
* * *
Anton emerged from the burning training barn.
He wore a thick, gray blanket like a cape, pulled tight over his head. It smoked, tongues of flame struggling to consume it in a dozen spots. He shrugged it off, and it fell at his feet. He lifted a pair of Milkor MGLs, one in each hand. A bandolier of high explosive armor piercing grenades ran across his naked chest. The Green and Blue Dragons were strapped in an ‘X’ across his back.
Half the available Order team members were blurring over the fields in pursuit of the Red Empire and Ramin Kain.
A pair of blackwidow’s were converging toward a spot near the south tree line. A black, nightfalcon hovered there blocking Kain’s path.
“First Drake, and now Armitage,” Anton observed, his eyes flashing.
He sank into his Ramp. Power surged through him. He blurred forward at maximum speed. The nearest blackwidow was still within range of his MGLs. He lifted his right hand, pumping the trigger as he ran. The final shot was ‘chuffing’ away on a trail of gray smoke as the first of the grenades triggered the helicopter’s automatic defense systems. Rows of brilliant flares jetted to the left and right, clouds of chaff bloomed above the flares, reflecting their light like so much silvery confetti.
The first of the grenades sailed past the blackwidow, which began to frantically turn away.
The second, third, fourth and fifth grenades stitched a line of explosions across the rear of the helicopter. The nose dipped down. The tail broke away. The body of the machine began spinning wildly as it continued to lurch toward the tree line.
The fuel ignited. The helicopter exploded into a huge fireball. Secondary explosions disintegrated the blackwidow into a rain of flaming debris.
Anton dropped the empty MGL, blurring toward the hovering nightfalcon.
The last blackwidow flew in from the far side of the field. Its cannons and miniguns blazing, tracers slashing across the field. The Order team members took evasive action, scattering before the firestorm.
Anton ran on.
The Red Empire caught up with Kain. He disappeared behind their bodies as they converged on the nightfalcon. They leaped up the dozen feet necessary to reach the helicopter’s cabin.
The nightfalcon roared into the night sky.
