Soldier of the Legion (33 page)

“Beta, Gamma!” Gamma was calling us.

“Go!”

“You take the west, we’ll take the east. We got dibs on the one with the cross.”

“Tenners!” It was not much of an ops plan, but it would have to do.

“They’re right behind us!” I craned my neck, and Gamma’s aircar glittered in the dawn behind us, leaving a frosty contrail in its wake. We headed west, the sun rising behind us. I turned to face front. A cold range of mountains lined the horizon against a blue-black sky. I snapped down the faceplate and clutched my E close to my chest. I felt no need for a mag, none at all.

Snow Leopard summarized. “If it moves and it doesn’t have blonde hair, kill it.”

“Tenners.”

“I don’t want a single door standing when we’re through. She’s there, and we find her! And get out fast! That’s the mission!”

“I’ll do deceptors and red smoke.” Redhawk’s hand hovered over the launch triggers. He had the maps stuck to the plex.

“Do it!” Snow Leopard ordered. The monastery complex appeared ahead on the horizon among the peaks, grey clouds slowly dissolving, a line of shadowy buildings materializing like a kingdom in the sky, floating magically in morning mists, the light of the dawn touching tall spires and illuminating great towers of pink stone. With a sudden flash we launched our missiles and watched the contrails as they streaked ahead.

“Red smoke and deceptors, Gamma.”

“Tenners.”

The morning burst over the monastery, a searing white flash and a multiple crack, a mini-nova, shattering the sky. A huge cloud of phospho-pink airburst over the complex and blinding fingers of flame shot down like hot hail, ricocheting everywhere. The bright pink smoke rolled around wildly and enveloped the entire complex in its grip. Streaks of lightning cracked wildly throughout the cloud, red-hot lances.

“Deceptor, smoke. On target. Approaching target, prep for decar.”

“Gamma approaching.”

“Beta, Gamma, we’re in the at.” The extraction team approached, entering the atmosphere. It was a powerful force. If the System wanted to counter them there, it would mean big trouble.

“Beta, Gamma. Major enemy strike force approaching your target in aircars. We’re moving to intercept.” Adrenalin shot through my system, a freezing burst of fear. A full-scale war!

“Landing!”

“Beta, decar!”

The assault doors popped open. Red smoke rolled in. I leaped out and landed running in a tiled courtyard. Despite the smoke it was as clear as daylight through the darksight of my faceplate. I snapped my E to xmin.

The aircar shot over my head, gone. We ran, leaping over low stone walls and up stone steps. A figure appeared suddenly before us, chain-mail armor, a cloak flapping about him—holding a spear! I shot him with xmax and the explosion blew him apart, splattering me with blood.

“Beta down!” Snow Leopard reported our landing.

“Gamma down!”

“Beta, Gamma, Val, you do the mission, we’ll handle the visitors.”

“Tenners!”

“Ten!”

Psycho crouched beside me, Manlink at his shoulder, a massive door before us. Our first objective, a great building. Psycho fired and the door exploded into splinters. I switched to gas and fired a burst into the doorway. A cloud of searing yellow gas rolled lazily out into the courtyard.

“First element entering objective...” Into the gas, a corridor lined with doors. A door opened, a figure stepped out, male, Coldmarker, a Starguard in one hand, confused by the smoke, weaving, his other hand over his mouth. I cut him in half with a burst of xmin, an explosion of gore. Snow Leopard sliced him lengthwise with laser. The Systie’s SG spit a brief burst of laser, riddling the ceiling, and the bloody corpse collapsed to the floor, the SG smoking. Merlin, behind us, had not had a clear shot.

“Second element entering objective...” Coolhand, Warhound, Dragon and Priestess were into our second target. I stepped over the shredded, dismembered corpse of the Coldmarker, adrenalin pumping wildly. Well-armed for a priest! I slipped on his blood and went down on one knee. I struggled up and threw myself into the doorway from where he had appeared, firing auto v-min. Screams, a blur of movement, the sharp explosions magnified within the stone cell, lancing into my ears—a bull of a man scrambling under a blanket. Terrified, I switched to auto xmin and fired until he was only twitching meat, the walls spattered with blood and gore, the cell full of upturned furniture and a bloody bed. I was still alive. I kicked in another door. A toilet, empty!

“Thinker here!” I launched myself back into the corridor, shaken. We took individual rooms as fast as we could. Psycho backed out of a room and fired a burst of flame. It exploded inside immediately and lit up Psycho’s figure. Someone screamed. Psycho’s eyes glowed behind his faceplate.

“Disgusting perverts!”

“Opscon, Atcon. We are intercepting the enemy aircar fleet. Permission to fire!”

“Atcon, Opscon. Open fire when ready.”

“Beta, Gamma—Topcat—still in the drop—we’re on the way.”

Snow Leopard popped out of a room. “All out cold here! Move! We need a prisoner! No more gas! Keep those E’s on v-min auto!” A stone staircase led up to the next floor. A baldheaded Coldmarker priest came charging down the stairs, a cloth wrapped around his mouth, firing an SG on laser. He ran into a barrage of V, which tore him off his feet. He came tumbling down the stairs like a rag doll, his SG bouncing along by itself. Psycho shot him through the forehead with a laser and his head exploded like a rotten fruit.

“Deadman!”

“These religious people are well-armed.”

“It’s the word of God,
Cit
,” Psycho laughed.

“Atcon engaging enemy aircars. All units on autofire.”

“Topcat approaching target. Hang on, guys!”

“Beta, Air. I’m giving you air cover.”

“Gamma, Air. I’m on you, too.”

“Deto!” Snow Leopard cursed. “Psycho, get out there with your Manlink and shoot down any enemy aircars that get through!” Psycho whirled and went charging back out the entrance. I blew away another door on xmax and came in low, firing on auto v-min. Dust and debris, and something on the floor—a young, bald Coldmarker in a dark robe, gasping.

“Snow Leopard, Thinker, prisoner!” I dragged him out into the corridor by one leg. A boy with smooth brown skin, only half conscious, his eyelids fluttering. Snow Leopard appeared by my side, scanning the corridor, his E up. Merlin kicked in a door and fired V bolts. It was deafening.

“Wake him up!” Snow Leopard ordered. I drew my hot knife and plunged the glowing blade into the boy’s arm. His eyes popped open and he shrieked in agony. I pulled the knife out and held it hissing a few mils from his eyeballs. He froze in shock, blood streaming from his arm, cold sweat on his forehead.

“Good morning,” I said. “I hope you speak Inter. We’re looking for the prisoner. The blonde Legion girl. If you don’t tell me where she is, I’m going to kill you.”

“No!” he croaked hoarsely. “Don’t kill us!” His Inter was just fine. “It’s in the Abbot’s Retreat. Over there!” He pointed it out shakily with his uninjured arm, gritting his teeth in pain. We could see it out the main door in dark morning light, right next door. A palace set up on high ground, red roofs, yellow banners floating out front, surrounded by low stone walls and terraces.

I backed off and shot the boy on v-min. He’d live.

“Beta, Gamma, Snow Leopard! She’s in the building with the red roof and the yellow banners. On me!” He and I charged out the door immediately with Merlin right behind us. The cold hit me right in the chest. Snow! Powdery white flakes drifted slowly down from a leaden grey sky. Our red smoke still drifted here and there, tinting the snow pink. Two figures ran along a terrace by the palace. Snow Leopard and I fired simultaneously on v-min, and they went down. An aircar flashed overhead with a boom and shot up into the grey skies.

“That’s Gamma!” A madman’s laugh. Psycho, rising up from behind a low wall, his Manlink pointed at the sky. “No Systies yet! Redhawk and Air Gamma are circling. Look at this snow! It’s freaking beautiful!”

We leaped over low walls, closing in on the building like a pack of swarmers. It was a great sprawling two-storied palace, with a massive double door of metal and wood, the building sparkling in a powdery layer of fine pink snow.

The air crackled viciously just over my head. A section of wall exploded, pitting me with stone fragments. I dropped to my belly in the snow. Snow Leopard lay beside me.

“Stay down, Beta! We’ve got ‘em spotted.” I recognized Boudicca’s steely voice.

Another shriek, a tremendous explosion, a brilliant green flash lighting up the sky. Someone came crashing down beside me.

“Hi, Big Guy!” Scrapper was armed with an E, comtop on, wearing a bulky Legion coldcoat. I could see her pale grey eyes through her faceplate. She always called me Big Guy. I wasn’t sure why.

“Ooh, that hurt! What should we do now, Chief? Give me the word. Stay put? We can stay put.”

“No, we’d better move! Now!” We scrambled to our feet and split up, firing on auto xmax. I could barely feel my fingers in the cold. The front of the building was smoking, disintegrating, phospho white and yellow starbursts flashing wildly, streaks of glowing shrapnel cutting through the skies and a sharp, violent crackling, all around us.

Psycho leapt over a small wall and landed next to me, firing full auto xmax. A mighty shock wave burst over us from above and an ear-shattering bang rolled through the mountains. Up in the snowy sky, a burning, flickering, disintegrating mass showered down from the heavens, a brilliant, flaming rain of death.

“Enemy aircars here. Where’s Atcon? Where’s Topcat?” Redhawk sounded busy.

“There’s two more, Beta!”

“I got ‘em! I got ‘em!”

“Topcat approaching your zero. We’ll clean your sky, guys.” The extraction team was with us!

Dragon appeared. He fired auto xmax right into the main doors of the palace and they blew apart, debris ricocheting everywhere.

The three of us cautiously approached the entrance. Coldmarker bodies sprawled over the terrace, several of them in a tangled pile before the doors, torn to bloody shreds. Systie SGs were scattered around, pitted and smoking. Not your typical religious sanctuary. Another aircar flashed overhead.

“...it’s ours!”

Two more darted past from the opposite direction, wheeling into the clouds for another pass. Psycho fired immediately, auto tacstar, flashing up into the snowy sky.

“Ha! They’re here!” He crouched, Manlink at his shoulder, furious, looking up into the sky, pink snow falling softly all around him.

A tooth-rattling howl as the air glittered with laser bursts flashing down in a beautiful, horrible arc from the sky, laser rain, slicing an irresistible path through the terrace, everything in its path disintegrating, exploding into dust. Psycho ducked. I couldn’t get any closer to the ground because of my clothing.

“Systies are strafing. Psycho, hold ‘em! Air cover! We need smoke! Beta, Gamma, on me!” Snow Leopard rounded the corner, joining us, and stepped into the flaming ruins of the open doorway. I followed, anxious to get out of the courtyard. A series of sonic booms shattered the sky. Four, five, six. All right! That had to be Topcat, the extraction force, with Legion fighters. About time! They’d give us the air!

Inside we faced a great hall lined with benches, the walls covered with heavy tapestries, with a raised platform at the far end and a nightmare red goblin carved into the wall behind the platform. He didn’t look too friendly. Perhaps that explained the SG’s.

Smoking incense, flickering candles, and a sudden silence. Doorways. Two stone staircases, either side of the platform, leading up to the second floor. Warhound kicked open one of the doors. A library, deserted. Dragon did another. Musty, empty cells, desks and paper.

“V-min, v-min, gang, she’s here. Upstairs! They live upstairs!” We picked our way carefully around the benches. Nothing stirred. Snow Leopard and Boudicca each took a staircase. Aircars shrieked past outside, and sonic booms rattled the building. We could hear tacstars howling on full auto. Could it be Psycho? I found myself behind Boudicca, hustling up the stairs. Scrapper and Sassin followed me. Sassin was the Cyrillian merc who carried Gamma’s Manlink. Of course, we called him Sassin the Assassin.

We gained the second floor behind a barrage of v-min auto. We found a body in the corridor, a Coldmarker male. I caught a glimpse of Snow Leopard, Dragon, Merlin and Priestess, coming up the other staircase, firing v-min auto into their corridor.

It was a long rectangular building and the corridor ran around the building, giving access to all the rooms. A great explosion shattered the sky outside. We did not have much time! The corridor was lined with closed wooden doors. I blew away the first one, and Sassin went for the opposite door. Boudicca joined me, stepping into the smoking dust, her E at her shoulder. A Coldmarker priest stood against the wall, clothed in a dark robe. “We’re unarmed,” he said shakily in Inter. “We’re a servant of God.”

Boudicca pointed her E right at his head. “Drop the robe, holy man.”

He carefully loosened the cloth belt and the robe slid to the floor. He was pale and fat and almost naked, trembling like jelly, clad only in a dirty loincloth. No weapons.

“We want the girl,” Boudicca said, “the Legion girl with the golden hair.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. It raised the hairs on the back of my neck. She didn’t have to voice any threats. He understood.

“Next cell!” He responded immediately, gesturing up the corridor. He trembled violently.

“The Legion thanks you,” she said. Then she switched to xmin and shot him in the chest. The explosion blew him apart, spraying us with gore, splattering the entire room with blood. I was stunned for an instant, frozen in horror. She had been almost sane when I knew her in Hell.

Laser light flickered and cracked in the corridor, and V bolts banged away on auto. Gamma and Beta were kicking in doors and firing on v-min.

Boudicca stood before the door to the next room. Sassin raised his Manlink and fired and the door crashed right into the room. Boudicca and I stepped into the dark, E’s on v-min. A narrow slit in the cold stone wall high above admitted a sliver of daylight, revealing a fireplace with a few dying red embers. Valkyrie stood in the middle of the room facing us. She wore a Coldmarker cloak with the hood back and her golden hair shone in the dark. She appeared calm and detached. She stood over another girl, icy pale skin, black hair, heavy lids. A Mocain! The Mocain was on her knees, almost naked, shivering, facing us, her wrists and ankles tied behind her. Valkyrie stood over her, and she had the Mocain’s hair in one hand and a cold knife in the other.