Vengeance (30 page)

“The High Council will never agree to this,” Nokz’z said.

“They will when they hear what I have to say,” Azoh said.

There was a hole at the top of the rock pile when Kriz arrived. A shout came from one of the soldiers and a large boulder crunched down the slope amid an avalanche of smaller stones. Kriz stepped quickly to the side as the boulder smashed into the wall, right where she had been standing.

What had been a hole large enough to put an arm through was now large enough to climb through.

She scrambled up the pile of rocks, which shifted and skittered under her hands and feet.

“Second squad to the left!” Jazki ordered, right at her heels. “First squad, follow me!”

Kriz stumbled down the loose rocks in the darkness on the other side. Flashlights came on all around her as the Nzgali followed. Then she was in the tunnel, and running.

Nokz’z stared at Azoh, then at the Angels, scumbugz, the enemy who travelled with her. His head throbbed and his eyes shifted in and out of focus. But an extraordinary calmness came over him. A clarity of mind and of purpose.

There could be only one solution.

One solution that would outrage the High Council and all Bzadians. That would make Bzadia seek vengeance, until the last human was eradicated from this planet. That would elevate him back to the status he deserved.

And the best part was that the Angels would take the blame.

“What are you waiting for?” Azoh asked.

There was no going back now, there couldn’t be.

He was barely conscious of his own finger pulling the trigger.

The sudden flutter of the blue robes was something that Nokz’z watched dimly, faded into insignificance by the dark curtain that seemed to have been drawn across behind his eyes. The only sound he could hear was a roaring in his ears as though a great wind had blown into the room. Even the gunshot was barely audible through the sound. He observed with interest, not emotion, as Azoh’s body jerked backwards, her hands twitching towards her heart, before going limp, as did her face and her legs.

He saw one of the Angels trying to rise and being viciously kicked back down.

Then Azoh fell, no longer a living being, but a lifeless collection of body parts, her ceremonial robes a funeral shroud.

And then the screaming started. In a daze he turned towards the tunnel entrance as a small figure in black robes launched itself at him, scratching and biting, and the gun in his hand sounded once again.

“Contact front!” Wall shouted.

Bullets kicked chips of stone from the walls around them.

Price dived behind a large boulder embedded in the wall of the tunnel. The others dropped to the floor.

“I don’t have a shot!” Barnard yelled.

“Frag out,” Monster shouted, hurling a grenade down the tunnel. It exploded with an ear-shattering boom and a sheet of flame and heat washed over them.

“Suppressing fire!” Price shouted. “Smoke grenades! Fall back!”

The tunnel quickly filled with a choking fog.

A bullet glanced off Price’s helmet, knocking her backwards, dazed but uninjured.

“Now! Move it!” she shouted, picking herself up from the floor.

There was blood on Nokz’z hands and on his clothes, but his mind was clear. The red haze had lifted and he knew exactly what he was doing as he emptied the cartridge of his side-arm, before stepping over the body on the floor in front of him and pressing the weapon into the reluctant hand of one of the Angels. She was screaming, struggling to get up, but unable to do so with the heavy boot of the Vaza pressed firmly on her spine.

He registered every detail of the shocked face of his Vaza as he turned calmly towards her.

“The Angels will take the blame,” Nokz’z said. “The scumbugz, the murderers of Azoh and Azoh-zu. But we will avenge her death.”

The Vaza stared at him and an iciness came over her face. She nodded, just once, short and sharp, and placed the muzzle of her weapon on the back of the Angel’s neck, just below the helmet, where there was little protection.

“We will be heroes,” Nokz’z said, but as he said it there was a small twitch and a sound like a weak cough from Azoh’s body.

He turned quickly and kneeled beside her, reaching around her neck and feeling for a pulse.

The realisation that there was one came at the same time as he noticed the short, buzz cut hair beneath the cowl, the body armour under the robes. Her ceremonial tattoos were smudged.
Smudged!

And she was holding a knife.

Price reached the safe room first as the entire building shook from multiple explosions. The video screens had fallen from the walls and lay shattered on the ground. The weapons and communications consoles still appeared to be active, running on their own power source. All other power in the building was out.

Bullets sparked off the metal door as Monster swung it closed behind them. He held up the remote detonator.

“Three-second delay!” he shouted. “Get away from door!”

Price grabbed the handset of the telephone and punched in the numbers that would connect her to the Pentagon.

“Come on!” She shook the phone as if that would make it connect faster.

The phone started ringing.

“Pick up, Bilal,” she said.

Thunder sounded from the tunnel behind. The metal door bulged and the air in the room seemed suddenly denser. Smoke jetted around the edges of the door.

“Pick up!”

Chisnall was bent over the small shape of Azoh-zu, performing CPR, but knowing it was already too late. Azoh kneeled next to him, her hand stroking the boy’s hair, whispering to him in words Chisnall could not understand.

Azoh-zu’s eyes were open. They were knowing, but not afraid, and even as Chisnall watched, the light began to fade.

Brogan stood over Nokz’z, her knife at his throat. The disguise had been so simple, but had worked well. She wore Azoh’s blue robes and facial jewellery, held in place with tiny adhesive strips from the medical kit. The tattoos had been drawn on with the surgical pen.

The Vaza lay against a wall, her head on an unnatural angle. She was neither moving nor breathing. A Vaza and a Fezerker had clashed and the outcome had never been in doubt.

Chisnall jumped as the tunnel door burst open, smashing back against the wall with a sound like a gunshot. Bzadian soldiers spewed from the opening, combat ready, guns high, fingers tight on triggers.

Kriz emerged from the tunnel, a side-arm in her hand, followed by a young female captain.

“Put the knife down,” Kriz said. “Or you will die unnecessarily.”

Brogan tossed the knife well away from Nokz’z then slowly raised her hands to her neck.

“Medic,” Chisnall cried, pumping uselessly at Azoh-zu’s chest. “We need your medic!” He stood up, moving out of the way as a Bzadian medic rushed forwards.

“Who is this, who wears Azoh’s robes?” Kriz asked.

“A traitor,” Nokz’z said. “A Fezerker, gone native. Now fighting with our enemies.”

Kriz’s eyes swept over Azoh, taking in the combat uniform, acknowledging her identity with a short nod, but nothing to reveal surprise.

“Azoh works with the humans,” Nokz’z said. “She too is a traitor to Bzadia.”

There was a long silence during which Kriz’s eyes flicked rapidly between Azoh and Nokz’z.

“I do not understand,” Kriz said.

“Azoh has betrayed us,” Nokz’z said. “She has betrayed all of Bzadia. She works with the scumbugz against her own people.”

“This cannot be true,” Kriz said.

“Ask her,” Nokz’z said. “She cannot lie.”

Kriz turned towards Azoh and bowed her head. “Azoh,” she said. “I seek only to understand what the colonel is saying.”

“He speaks in part-truths,” Azoh said. “I work with these children of our enemies, not against our people, but to prevent future bloodshed.”

Kriz seemed visibly shocked.

“Just as we are about to erase our enemy from this planet, she wants to capitulate,” Nokz’z said. “She would surrender and condemn future generations of Bzadians to a life of slavery, or worse, at the hands of these savages.”

“I work for our people,” Azoh said. “I work to avoid more Bzadian deaths as well as more human ones.”

“She will destroy us all,” Nokz’z said as another explosion shook the walls of the room and part of the ceiling sagged.