God of chaos built for w.., p.13
God of Chaos: Built for War: Book Two, page 13
“Teah, confirm what I’m telling you,” I said. “D.C. has fallen. I’ll do what I can to help.”
HOUR TWENTY-ONE
When the Anacostia Seawall fell, D.C. had no chance. The Potomac, Anacostia, and Northern Seawalls protected D.C. from the pounding Atlantic Gyre. When the Anacostia Seawall fell, the deluge swept into the city and swept much of the city out to sea. Fire swept through the city, thanks to the winds of the Gyre consuming the buildings that still stood above water. The dead littered roadways suddenly turned canals.
“Have to find Sagramore and Galahad,” I said. “They just might listen.”
Old landmarks, ones that I had seen on old American coins, crumbled under the volley of rockets falling from the sea. Old Barracuda submarines, stationed in the Potomac seaway to protect the city, lobbed these rockets. Survivors flooded elevated roadways and aqueducts. These survivors, numbering thousands, ran frantically, only to be cut off by falling rockets destroying their escape route. Knights justified the targeting of civilians because mass causality strikes forced government officials into starburst maneuvers. This was where officials scattered into civilian crowds. Knights had no way of differentiating civilians from enemy targets, so we targeted both. I needed to stop those rockets from falling to spare as many lives as possible.
“If I can’t talk Gawain down,” I said, “I need to turn those rockets out to sea.”
I glanced at my instruments. Having rockets chase me into the Atlantic Gyre would only serve as a short-term solution.
“I need to talk them all down,” I said. “How do I talk them all down?”
Knights always used rolling inversion encryption to communicate. Since I had been the original encryption key-loader on this mission and the possible number of encryptions was finite, I only had to make a few hundred guesses to crack Gawain’s new code.
“Galahad has been captured,” Sagramore radioed the rest of the team. “I’m moving to the surface to peel the onion.”
Peeling the onion meant forcing security details to turn away from their primary mission of protecting high-level officials to give chase. Galahad was not captured. Galahad was a Trojan horse meant to penetrate the highest ranks of D.C. Command.
“Roger,” Gawain radioed back. “Bors and Palamedes will move into position to extract Galahad when he cuts the head off the snake.”
“They’re going after the president of the Eastern States of America,” I said. “Not good.”
“Keep pounding away topside,” Bors said. “We’re pinching them off down here.”
“Gawain,” Bedivere radioed. “I have an Infiltrator approaching. Looks like one of ours.”
“It’s Lancelot, not so offline as I was told,” Gawain said. “Move to intercept.”
As another volley of cruise missiles rocketed from the submarines and dropped into D.C., Infiltrator Alpha rose from the eastern sea wall and opened its cannons on me. I banked into the streets of the city, attempting to coax Bedivere to give chase.
I finally broke radio silence. “The western seaboard was not attacked, Gawain. This mission ends now.”
“Take him out, Bedivere,” Gawain said.
“You know you can’t outfly me,” I said.
“Engaging now,” Bedivere said.
The Infiltrator shook as I banked through a nasty vortex of fire and banked again to bring Infiltrator Charlie to a full stop right above the water. Infiltrator Alpha shot past me.
“I’ve lost him,” Bedivere said.
Sagramore appeared in the motorboat below me. She was the source of that vortex of fire. She was also churning up the dead in her wake. We had eyes on each other as she aimed a weapons port at me. Cannon fire strafed the water to my starboard as Infiltrator Alpha shot past.
“What did you call it?” Sagramore radioed from the boat. “An octopus round?”
A burst of light blinded me. When my vision returned to a blur, I discovered the cockpit windshield inked black. I glanced at my sensors. The nanos were already damaging my avionics. I was blind, but Sagramore had not tried to kill me. Either there was hope for her yet...or she had been ordered to spare the Infiltrator because it was such an expensive machine.
“I’ve been blind,” I said as I opened every door on my ship. “But I can smell, can’t I? I can feel the wind, can’t I? The rabbit runs. The coyote chases. Time for me to run.”
Flying by catching glimpses of the ground through opened drop-seat hatches was no easy task. The opened rear cargo door created too much drag, but that made my flying dirty and my trajectory unpredictable. As another volley of missiles raked over the Potomac Seawall, I flew directly into their path. Bedivere, right behind me, banked from those rockets, giving me the chance I needed to slip over the Potomac Seawall and strafe those Barracudas with my cannons. The damage to those submarines was minimal, but Gawain would lose moments running diagnostics before recommencing the rocket barrage.
“He’s heading out to sea,” Bedivere said. “Flying blind.”
“He’s trying to draw you away from the city,” Gawain said. “I’ll take care of him.”
The Gyre was particularly nasty today. Gawain would have a hard time tracking me in the storm. He would waste precious moments trying. Those precious moments, I hoped, would save thousands. I scanned the waters. An empty NUN container ship attempting to limp up the coast gave me an idea. I would just need to convince the captain to turn back for D.C.
Lightning struck one of my wings. Rockets raced past me. Gawain had lost his temper. He was lobbing rockets blindly now. I brought the Infiltrator down on the container ship. I went to the pilothouse to look for the captain. The container ship was sailing on autopilot.
“Easy enough,” I said as I reprogrammed the container ship to return to D.C.
The container ship would move slowly, drifting with the currents and tides under little power from its own engines. I counted on Gawain ignoring the slow-moving threat.
“Palamedes and Bors have gone under the city to extract Galahad,” I said once I was back in the air. “Ban and Yvain will be slicing D.C. at its edges. I need to reduce their numbers. I need to kill some Knights. There’s no other way.”
Ban and Yvain had commandeered two-wheeled ground machines—motorcycles of some sort. They were herding hundreds of fleeing survivors toward a throng of thousands.
“Sorry, Ban,” I said.
As I slammed the Infiltrator right down on Ban, Yvain bailed from her motorcycle, whipped around, and came at the rear cargo doors of the Infiltrator. I swung the Infiltrator’s cannons and fired on her until she had to eject from her exoskeleton.
“Fuck you, traitor!” she radioed as she shot into the sky.
Yvain would land somewhere in the marshes north of the city, which would buy me a few minutes. I ducked my head out of the cargo doors to watch her parasail deploy. To my rear, an incoming rocket flashed out of the smoke and clouds.
“Already found me.”
I leapt as the rocket hit the Infiltrator and carved a hole in the sea wall. My eardrums had ruptured. My vision had blurred. My Dragon Skin had captured shrapnel, and damn, that hurt. I tried my feet and collapsed. As I tried again, I felt someone lift me overhead. Ban had been armored. Bringing an Infiltrator down on him had not made a dent. He flopped me onto his shoulder as a prize.
“You threw Yvain in the river,” Ban said. “I don’t like rivers. I’d crush your skull and throw you over the seawall, but Gawain says no. The Mothers must want you back bad.”
The manual ejection release fixed under Ban’s right armpit smiled big as I tugged. Ban stumbled forward to try to throw me off his back. We rocketed along the seawall and tumbled over the edge. Ban hated water and would avoid it at any cost. Ban launched a grappler as we fell. As we fell, we tumbled. The grappler line caught Ban’s chin and looped around Ban’s neck. When we came to the length of that grappler line, a look of surprise crossed Ban’s face, and then his head popped clean from his body and splashed the water beneath us. His neck surged blood and made his Dragon Skin so slippery that I nearly fell into the water too. By some miracle, I caught the barrel of the M25 at Ban’s hip and climbed back up his body.
“I think you found a design flaw in the grappler, Ban,” I panted.
I heard a gulp and glanced below me. Bobbing and blinking up at me was Ban’s head. His neural lace would have about ten more seconds to process what had just happened.
“If you’re linked, Yvain,” I said, “stay back...or you’ll die too.”
When I untucked the M25 from Ban’s hip, it gave me a zap. I lacked the DNA profile to operate Knight armament now, but there was a simple hack for that. If it worked, the second zap would not come. If the hack failed, the next zap would be lethal. I smeared my hand in the blood still spurting from Ban’s neck and grabbed the M25 again. The weapon’s safety disengaged.
“Glad that worked,” I said.
As I searched the water below me, contemplating how I could keep my bloodied hand above water, Yvain appeared at the top of the sea wall.
“What did you do?” she said.
“I told you not to come back,” I said as I took aim at her with Ban’s M25.
“Where is his head...what did you do?!” she screamed.
Once Yvain made full sense of the situation, she dove from the seawall to recover Ban’s head. I understood. I had felt the same impulse when Gareth fell—the impulse to recover the neural lace. When Yvain hit the water, an explosion swallowed her down. The explosion did not come from Ban’s M25.
“Coming at you,” somebody shouted through the smoke. “Don’t fire.”
A boat drifted into view below me. Sagramore was at the wheel. She glanced down at the water in search of Yvain. She shook her head when she saw what was left of Ban.
“None of this made sense,” she said. “The war was over.”
“I know,” I said. “Permission to come aboard and explain myself?”
“Permission granted,” Sagramore said.
I dropped into the bow of the little boat and offered Sagramore Ban’s M25 as an act of goodwill. She had had more than one chance to kill me. I would give her one last chance.
“Ban reported you neutralized,” Sagramore said. “I suspect he was overconfident.”
“He forgot about his manual eject,” I said. “I didn’t.”
“I’m here to recover your body. Gawain is distracted. We don’t have much time.”
“Galahad?” I asked.
“Bors and Palamedes haven’t extracted him,” Sagramore said. “They can’t find him. He’s still alive, but our link is weak.”
“This mission needs to end,” I said. “The West was not attacked.”
“We saw it,” Sagramore said. “I don’t agree with this destruction, but they struck first.”
“It had to be sim,” I said.
“You told us this was a simple escort,” Sagramore said. “You don’t lie. Nothing about this mission ever made sense.”
“Agreed.”
“Kay and Ector?” Sagramore said.
“Dead,” I said, “but before they were taken offline, they confirmed that the West was not attacked. I don’t know what’s true. I just know I can’t be a part of this anymore.”
“Command never scheduled a debriefing,” Sagramore said. “We’re being liquidated, aren’t we? They wanted D.C. destroyed. They needed to blame rogue Knights.”
“That’s what I believe,” I said.
“I don’t want to die,” Sagramore said. “I don’t want Galahad to die.”
Yvain burst from the water and landed on the bow of the motorboat. In her right hand, she carried Ban’s head. In her left hand, she carried a sprung grenade. Sagramore pushed me aside and hit Yvain directly in the chest with a pneumatic blast. The blast knocked Yvain off the boat. The grenade exploded just off our bow. Another Knight was dead.
“A halting error may be the answer,” I said. “I’m not sure how to make that happen.”
“We can shut down the neural lace?” Sagramore said. “I’d like that.”
“I can get Galahad out if he’ll listen to me,” I said.
“He’ll listen to you,” Sagramore said.
“Point me to where Gal inserted,” I said. “I’ll go after him.”
“You’ll need to contend with Bors and Palamedes,” Sagramore said. “They know you’re coming. They’re backing Gawain, even after what he did to Perceval.”
“Perceval?” I said.
“Gawain killed Perceval when Perceval refused your orders,” Sagramore said. “Gal and I had to go along, or we’d be dead too.”
“I’ll try to give Bors and Palamedes the same offer,” I said. “You convince Bedivere.”
“Then what?” Sagramore said. “What if we get out?”
“There’s a container ship coming this way,” I said. “Pack that ship with every survivor you can. It’ll take you up the coast to NUN-protected land. Learn to blend. Disappear.”
“And you?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I gave the order to strike D.C. This all falls on me.”
“Gawain is expecting a dead body,” Sagramore said. “Your dead body. If I don’t deliver your dead body, he’d be happy to settle for mine.”
“I have an idea,” I said. “Can you get me close to where Gal went underground?”
HOUR TWENTY-TWO
I made my heart slow to a near stop. Bedivere circled Infiltrator Alpha over the north wall to confirm Sagramore’s story about recovering my body. Once he had a visual on us, he circled back toward the Potomac Seawall. Sagramore glanced back at me and gave me a wink.
“Yvain and Ban?” Bedivere radioed to Sagramore.
“Lancelot killed them,” Sagramore said. “He’s down, but I still read some brain activity. He’s neutralized and contained. Orders, Gawain?”
“Gareth says destroy Lancelot,” Gawain said. “Once that task is complete, return to the Capitol building to assist Bors and Palamedes in extracting Galahad.”
“Roger that,” Sagramore said. “Sagramore out.”
When the sound of the Infiltrator faded, I sped my heart and opened one eye. Sagramore was glancing back at me. We were moving fast. The smell of burnt flesh surrounded us.
“We struck the Capitol building first,” Sagramore said, “but there’s an extensive underground network, highly secure. Gal found his way inside. You’ll have to dive.”
“How much time?” I said.
“Bedivere will be on my six once he realizes you haven’t been killed,” Sagramore said. “He’ll have orders to kill me when they realize what I’ve done.”
“Not if I hit you with the M25,” I said.
“That’ll hurt,” she said.
“Yes, it will,” I said.
“Save Gal,” she said, kicking the M25 back to me. “We’re almost there.”
The broken cupola of the Capitol building appeared dead ahead. Enough of Ban’s blood was still on my hands to allow me to manipulate the weapon. As we disappeared through a cloud of smoke and a wall of fire, Sagramore’s exoskeleton went rigid to protect her head and spine.
“Don’t let me see it coming,” Sagramore said. “Hit me hard. Take me out of the fight.”
I leapt to my feet and fired as I threw myself from the boat. The hit was direct. As I went under, I watched Sagramore’s motorboat shred to pieces. I resisted the urge to surface and search for Sagramore. Her armor would save her. I dove for the concrete and marble structure to my east. I swam until I found a series of windows. One of those windows was broken. I swam through the break and discovered a pocket of air far above me. The air was thick with accelerants, but I was glad I no longer had to hold my breath. Ban’s M25 gave me a zap. I was no longer covered in Ban’s blood. The M25 would no longer do me any good. I was tired of weapons anyway. I cast it away from me. Around me floated dozens of bodies and thousands of books. Ornate columns had fallen. Heroic murals charred by flames dressed the few walls that still stood—such wonder destroyed in moments.
“A library,” I said. “Way bigger than Cowboy Dave’s library. I bet I’d like to read.”
Eastern Command likely had deep bunkers to survive an assault like the Knights had conducted, but many of those commanders and the politicians brokering the peace deal would have been above ground, here, when the attack ensued. Somewhere nearby existed transit and utility tunnels that would offer a quick escape for those high-ranking officials. Galahad had to have found the fleeing Eastern delegation in those tunnels and surrendered. They would have brought Galahad with them to make sense of the suddenness of the attack. I was looking for the security force that would have stayed behind to keep Knights like me from following.
Bedivere would find me if I stayed above water any longer, so I dove and followed an undercurrent. Pockets of air survived in flooded transit and utility corridors. I tried to follow signs meant to guide pedestrians, but most of these misdirected me to dead ends. I circled back the way I came and found a flooded elevator shaft. Ten stories down that elevator shaft sat an elevator car. No buttons to call the elevator revealed themselves, so I dove and found my way into that elevator car by opening an emergency hatch. Water followed me into that elevator car before I could close that hatch behind me. The elevator filled to my waist with that water, and then pumps engaged, quickly drawing away that water.
“Pumps,” I whispered. “Oxygen supply. Something important is down here.”
I pulled open the elevator doors and found myself in a dimly lit corridor. As I moved down that corridor, I became dizzy and disoriented. The last time I felt this dizzy was when an EMP brought me down. This dizziness and disorientation grew the deeper I traveled. Somebody here knew that the Knights existed and knew our weakness.
“Lights!” a young man barked.
Blackness suddenly surrounded me. I was unarmed and completely disoriented. I was helpless. I was scared.
