BISENTIENT, page 36
The little bird sped across the battlefield. Scarcely noticing the heaving masses below, she sought only one thing. The leader of this dark horde.
The further she plunged into the cloudy, dusty mass of the dark army the stronger was the feeling that the leader was close by. Then she caught sight of a small group set apart from the masses. Several unusually tall, yet thin, figures surrounded a large man. At least two metres tall the figure was imposing, wearing ornate armour that glistened like obsidian. As the little bird circled, she could see him give orders and one by one the tall slim figures bent to listen then slipped away to convey those orders to the creatures. Having seen enough the bird circled away and headed back towards the city. Just as she lined up with the city a screeching wail pierced the air and a Harpy flashed past the bird catching her with a talon and causing the bird to flap in panic and lose height. Feathers floated away from the wound in the little bird’s side, but the tiny wings kept working. Her head twitched side to side to find the Harpy and be ready for a second attack. It came almost immediately but this time the little bird was ready and easily avoided the Harpy’s swipe. The little bird decided to try and lose the Harpy in the chaos of the battle and dived down towards the seething masses below. Seconds later the Harpy tried again and this time getting in front of the little bird and trying to corral it with its large wings. The little bird ducked and swooped below the Harpy’s huge wings and easily skirted the grasping talons. By the time the Harpy had regained flight and turned around the little bird had vanished.
Plater watched in horror as the dark hordes scaled the walls of the city. The men and women on the ramparts defended bravely as the first wave of creatures stormed up the ladders. It was Plater’s job to deal with the second wave, the human wave.
Below, he could see that the scaly creatures that had first climbed the ladders were replaced by the bulk of the dark army. These were humans. Masses and masses of humans were jostling for position to climb the siege ladders. Plater began his ritual. It involved attempting to relax and release his mind from immediate thoughts. This would prove almost impossible in the middle of a battle, but he had to try. Then he needed to visualise a sequence of images and memories that were designed to bring his consciousness to a particular state. Gail hadn’t been able to explain it, but she had been able to describe how to do it. Images were forced into Plater’s mind in a pre-arranged order. Starting with the birth of his first son, then images of a lightning storm, then explosions from a war film or blasting at a quarry, and finally a symbol that Gail had shown Plater for the first time only weeks before. He had no idea what it represented but it seemed to trigger something within him and that is exactly what happened. His body made a violent and almost involuntary movement like vomiting. He had his hands extended in front of him and his fingers and thumbs formed a circle. Through this circle appeared what could be described as a bolt or a ball of energy which hurtled to the ground before exploding in a mass of yellow, orange and red flames. Such was the force of the blast that perhaps a hundred souls from the dark army were scattered, lifeless, leaving a large crater in their place.
A loud cheer went up from the guards on the ramparts. Plater was almost oblivious to it all. Throughout his practice with Gail, he had only ever used a portion of the sequence and concentrated most on aiming his energy where he wanted it. The sheer power of what he had just done overwhelmed him and he felt drained of all energy. One of the guards jumped onto the platform and grabbed his arms.
“Are you alright?” he shouted.
At first Plater wasn’t aware of anything then his present came into focus.
“Yes, yes, I’m Okay.” he said.
The guard smiled, clapped him on the arm and turned to rejoin the fight.
Molly knew she had to protect Plater. She hatched a plan and quietly opened one of the kitchen cupboards. Removing some of the contents, she put the cast iron frying pan down, took up several saucepans and threw them to the far side of the kitchen. Immediately she scooped up the frying pan and dashed for the door into the living room. She gambled that Clayton would have to follow the noise and that would allow her to get to the stairs and up to where Plater was sleeping. As she ran on her toes out of the kitchen she heard the tell-tale cough and saw a dark shape disappear into the kitchen from the hall. She was up the stairs before the last saucepan had rolled to a stop and the house fell silent again.
Bartholomew watched anxiously for the return of the little bird. He watched it streak into the tower room with relief. As soon as the bird settled on a chair, Gail’s body moved. It took her a few moments to adjust but then she urged Bartholomew to unfurl the map of the plains. After getting her bearings on the map, she pointed to a place perhaps half a mile north and west of the city gate. It was obscured from the city by a slight hill which came in front of a slight dip in the terrain beyond it. This meant that the position could not be seen from the city.
“He’s smart.” said Gail. “I’ll give him that much.”
“Can we get to him there?” asked Bartholomew.
“Not yet, he has reserves that are close by. This one knows some military strategy. It’s as well we are better prepared.”
“Will the plan still work?”
“Perhaps with some minor alterations, yes, I think so. We need to speak to the General.” said Gail.
The British Airways flight was on time to Paris. The passenger from seat 2A made his way smoothly through immigration. After collecting his bags, he passed through customs, having displayed his Diplomatic passport, without inspection. Inside forty-five minutes, he was at his hotel and having showered and changed, he opened the seven-digit combination on his steel-reinforced attache case and took out the small bottle of aftershave. It was still in the retail box showing it to be a high-end brand. The man slipped it into his pocket and left the hotel.
A short taxi ride later he was in a down market club drinking what he knew to be watered down Jamesons and checking his watch. Ten minutes late, at 2210, a couple approached his table and asked if they might join him. After a carefully worded exchange involving the price of the drinks, they established trust.
The man took the small box from his pocket and passed it to the male half of the couple below the table. They chatted and enjoyed a drink before they all three left and parted company. The man breathed a sigh of relief. He hated handling such lethal materials and even though he had followed all protocols to the letter, he had a twenty-minute shower when he returned to his hotel. He would be on the first plane in the morning back to London.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
BEFORE ZACH HAD even had time to realise he had just defeated a giant creature intent on separating his head from his body, more of the dark horde clambered over the walls. The advice of his swordmaster came back to his mind: ‘Avoid melee combat, you are best one-on-one.’ As Zach glanced around, he saw that the horde were overwhelming his group on the battlements. Looking down into the city he could see dark figures had already reached the ground and were engaged in combat with guards. He decided to join the guards on the ground where he could select his opponents and had more room. He quickly slid down one of the internal ladders and paused only to slash at the back of a creature locked in combat with a guard on the platform. The figure slumped to the ground and the guard quickly acknowledged Zach’s help before turning to engage another dark form.
As he reached the ground Zach looked round. The guards were still fighting where they stood and were not being pushed back. It was chaotic with groups of the guards in formation and the dark creatures darting in all directions with no attempt to work together. He saw a tall, slender figure twirling a double ended lance or spear move easily past a guard and spinning rapidly sliced the guard across the back, dropping him to the ground. Zach ran towards the figure, who saw him approach. The figure stood tall and bared its teeth, twirling the long lance above its head. Zach twirled his katana by rotating his wrist in an almost mocking gesture and the creature brought the lance down and lunged. Zach easily dodged and brought his sword down onto the lance. Sparks sprayed from the contact and Zach allowed the taller creature’s momentum to take him past. He tried a strike to the legs of the creature as he passed but missed.
The creature spun the lance again, this time behind his back and around his waist in a move Zach may have found impressive under different circumstances. He was focused on his lessons and ways to attack. He feinted to strike, and the creature reacted swiftly to block but Zach was already altering his swing to glide past the lance and slash at one of the arms holding it. Dark fluids leapt from the gash and the creature recoiled, emitting a screeching wail as it did so. Within moments it regained its stance, lance pointing forwards and circled Zach. Knowing it would expect something similar, Zach knew he needed a different attack next. Before he could choose the creature lunged again and this time, although Zach ducked and dodged to one side part of the many bladed lance knicked the side of his head. Quickly lifting his left hand to his head he could feel the blood running down past his ear. Fully focused again the two combatants circled. Emboldened by seeing the blood, the tall creature attacked once more. This time a slashing attack at the end of a twirl of his lance above his head. Zach knew what he should do. He crouched without moving to the side and this gave him the balance and closer distance to bring his katana down in a rapid arc and cleanly sever the creatures hand that brought the lance down towards him. Immediately the creature wailed, and the lance was now out of control and stuck into the ground. Seeing his chance Zach brought the katana up in a return arc from the initial strike and cut across the creature’s exposed throat. As he felt the blade meet resistance, Zach knew the fight was over. As he completed the movement, a shower of dark fluids cascaded from the gaping wound and the creature toppled silently to the ground.
Looking around again, Zach could see that the walls were now a sea of black creatures and some humanoid Others. Remembering the briefing, he knew that at this stage they were to withdraw to reform further into the city. He clapped other fighters on the shoulders and nodded his head towards the assembly point and the other guards nodded and moved away with him. Slowly the guards from the ramparts were also falling back as the dark horde continued to swarm over the battlements. As they ran to the assembly point, they could hear the screeches and wails of the Harpies circling above.
Plater found his newly acquired skill tiring. He seemed only able to generate a fireball every few minutes and he had to watch as the dark horde streamed towards and over the walls of the city. He managed three explosions of power before one of the guards grabbed his arm and shouted at him to retreat to the assembly point. Still exhausted from the last fireball, Plater stared back dumbly at the guard, who then hauled him from the platform and dragged him down the stairs, around the chaos that was playing out at the foot of the walls. Slowly Plater regained his senses and was soon running alongside the guard back to the assembly point, deep in the city.
The house had fallen eerily quiet. Molly was crouched on the landing watching the foot of the stairs and the shadowy hallway, straining to hear any sound from below. All she could hear was her own accelerated breathing and the dull beat of her racing heart. She gripped the heavy frying pan as if her life depended on it, the pain from her wounded fingers overridden by her very real fears of death. She wondered if she should try to barricade herself in the bedroom with Plater. Her mind racing to work out how she might do it. Without her phone, she couldn’t call for help so any plan needed to realise that. It was just her and Clayton.
She knew he was hurt, but how badly? He had a gun. She’d seen enough movies to know it was silenced so probably not making enough noise to attract any help from outside. These and other thoughts raced and tumbled through her head as she strained for any indication of where Clayton was. Then she saw a faint shadow emerging from the living room door into the hall. He was moving in the same slightly awkward fashion as before; she must have hurt him she thought. She decided to move back from the top of the stairs in case she could be seen from below but as she transferred her weight to her back leg, the landing floorboards creaked. She looked down. Clayton looked up. Molly knew he’d seen her so now only one plan remained. She ran the few steps to the bedroom door and once inside jammed a chair under the handle as she’d seen done countless times in films. Looking round she saw Plater, lying as he had been when she’d left the room. He looked peaceful, she thought. Then she heard the noise of the stairs and flattened herself against the wall to one side of the door. Moments later there was a loud bang and the bedroom door jumped and the chair under the handle scraped on the floor. But the door held. Another bang, Clayton was either shouldering or kicking the door, but the makeshift wedge still held. A moment later there were two staccato coughs and splinters burst from the door around the handle. This was followed by another bang and the door started to split open close to the handle. Two more coughs and another bang and the door handle broke off, the chair that was wedged under it careened away and crashed to the bedroom floor. Simultaneously the bedroom door pushed open and Clayton lurched into the room. Molly swung the frying pan with all her strength and it slammed into Clayton’s shoulder. She couldn’t know it, but the blow had broken the scapula in three places. Clayton screamed in pain and sank to his knees. Molly raised the pan for another blow, but Clayton turned and rammed the hand holding the gun into her stomach, knocking all the wind from her and making her crumple to the floor. Through eyes blurred by involuntary tears Molly could see Clayton struggle to his feet. She saw him look down and see that she was incapacitated. He staggered a step to his right and felt his shattered shoulder with his gun hand. He grunted and moaned. Then he straightened and looked again at Molly. He moved his dragging leg around so he faced her and lifted the silenced Glock G19.
The assembly point for the defenders of the city was a square about a mile from the centre. As Gail and Bartholomew arrived, they could see that the General was already there speaking animatedly with a group of officers. As they made their way towards them, they could also see more and more fighters arriving, from all directions. A sign that the battle was not going well and that the dark horde had breached the city walls.
“General, I have located the command location.” said Gail.
A stocky man of no great height, wearing a plain uniform with one purple badge on it turned to her.
“That is good, can you show me?”
Gail pointed to the location on the map spread out on the folding table.
“Alright.” he said. “When was he seen there?”
“No more than fifteen minutes ago.” said Gail. “I saw him myself.”
“Good, good.” said the General. “Are you able to help the other Present?”
“Of course General.”
With that the General turned back to his commanders around the map and Gail and Bartholomew headed for one of the taller buildings in a neighbouring street to the square. In preparation for the attack the city had been divided into sections, A to H and Gail had been allocated section C to help with defence. Those others like her, the Present, were each given responsibilities to help a different sector. Their abilities, which varied wildly and rarely as effective or powerful as Gail’s, would nonetheless greatly help the defenders.
By the time Gail had taken up her position atop the Court building the surrounding streets were already a battleground. She immediately set about taking out Harpies as they harassed the defenders on the ground. Bartholomew was unable to help but watched as Gail was able to generate ripples of energy that either caused the Harpies to fall from the sky or sometimes blew a wing off, or a head. Unlike Plater, this level of exertion seemed almost effortless.
To her right, there was a man standing on a building three or four streets away. He was also one of the Present, but his powers were not as refined as Gail’s. He could produce fire but could not aim very well nor control intensity. Knowing this, he restricted his powers to blocking streets with fire and effectively funneling the invaders down narrow alleys to give the defenders on the ground a better chance to hold.
The woman who had met her contact the previous evening and collected the package arrived for work at the Chateau de Rambouillet, location of the G7 conference. Security was tight, with metal detectors and body searches at the staff entrances.
The guard asked about the expensive aftershave in her bag, but she smiled and explained it was a gift for her fiance. The guard thought for a moment then handed the bag back. The woman smiled and headed for the kitchens.
Antoine was always concerned about his appearance. He found the gay stereotype of men obsessed with their looks to be largely inaccurate, at least in his experience. He on the other hand was always proud to look his best. As he strode down the long carpeted corridor, he adjusted his tie such that it was properly central in his collar and shot his French cuffs to just the correct amount of sleeve showing beneath his Armani suit jacket. Just because he was a humble Hotel employee was no reason not to exude refinement, particularly at Le Grand Controle.
