novelxo Fractured Earth: Chapter 21
Four hours came and went in a flash. No one attacked their landing site, although Abe’s men noticed a couple of wary scouts keeping an eye on the major streets leading in and out of the area they’d claimed. But, by and large, they left Dan’s companions alone.
They used the time well, digging through the wreckage of the building and extricating body after body. Each one brought another twinge of guilt to Dan’s face. From their intelligence reports, maybe fifteen of the people living in that building deserved to die. Bowman and his hand-picked elite were all monsters, but the remaining administrative staff in the building were just people who worked and lived in the wrong place.
In all, they managed to pull the bodies of eighty workers from the twisted remains of Bowman’s command center, in addition to eleven bodies they believed belonged to Bowman and his lieutenants. As for Bowman himself, Sam was able to verify that the nanites in one of the mangled torsos belonged to the former Colonel.
It was anticlimactic, really. Dan had vaguely expected to end up fighting the madman on a rooftop somewhere during a thunderstorm, recent events having given him a bit of a flair for the dramatic. Instead, he’d been crushed by a girder, possibly even in his sleep.
Unfortunately, no one managed to find any biological material associated with Merella or the other five lieutenants. The spell cannon might have annihilated their corpses, but Dan didn’t dare get his hopes up. The woman had centuries of experience and the magic to back it up. In all likelihood, she’d escaped once again.
One more mistake he’d need to rectify. Really, he couldn’t go a full week anymore without kicking himself over trying to put her to sleep rather than using the kill command. It’d made sense at the time; he wanted to interrogate her about Tellask society, as well as Bowman’s operation, and he’d been so sure that they’d be able to take her alive. Next time, he wouldn’t risk it. The elf was too dangerous to all of humanity for him to extend mercy another time.
When the four hours were up, Dan put another call in to Major Stallsforth. After waiting a minute for her assistant to connect them, the major answered.
“Thrush?” she asked him, her voice significantly calmer and more assured than it was last time.
“Have you had a chance to consider our last conversation?” he replied, waving briefly at Jennifer as she meandered down the Viceroy’s loading ramp, a soda in hand.
“Some of the other officers and I talked it over,” she affirmed. “You were right about the special units vouching for you. Apparently, you were a fairly decent guy, even if you were involved with that Ibis asshole.”
Dan waited for a couple seconds, but Stallsforth didn’t respond. Finally, just as he was opening his mouth to say something, she beat him to the punch, her tone a bit rushed and flustered.
“Look, no one wants to fight you.” Her voice was almost apologetic. “And, if you have something that can take down my birds as easily as you and Brianna claim you did, it’s probably not a great idea to fight you, anyway.”
“You forgot that I have a spaceship with a gigantic laser cannon attached to it,” Dan supplied helpfully. “It can teleport.”
“Also that,” she agreed with a flash of temper at being interrupted. “I’m just saying that some of the groups want to lay down their arms and go home. Bowman kept a bunch of people here through fear long past their projected deployments. Plus, with the state of the country, a lot of folks want to make sure their families are safe. They’ve seen what Bowman’s been doing around here, and they want to make sure that isn’t happening back home.”
“So,” Dan responded sourly. “When the world has absolutely gone to shit, and we need people with your skills and experience, you plan on turning your backs on your oaths to the constitution and burying your head in the sand like an ostrich? Got it.”
“Not all of us!” Stallsforth protested. “I wouldn’t fight for another iteration of Bowman. I’ve had enough of playing petty dictator over a bunch of cowering civilians for a lifetime. That said, if you’re honestly looking to restore some semblance of normalcy, well, I’ll hear you out. I don’t plan on throwing in with a complete nobody consumed with delusions of grandeur, but if you actually have a shot, that’s something worth fighting for.”
“Do I just give you a pitch, then?” Dan asked, a hint of levity in his voice. “It’s been a while since I’ve actually sat down and watched one of those reality tv shows about trying to convince strangers to invest in a new product. I’m pretty sure I’d be a bit rusty.”
“A couple of the other battalion commanders in the area that are still willing to fight want to have a sit-down with you and hash out details,” she replied, not returning any of Dan’s mirth. “If we’re going to work for you, we’ll need to know what sort of person you are and what resources you have at your disposal. Would you be able to meet at the Ocean Mirage hotel in about an hour?
“I suppose that makes sense,” Dan agreed hesitantly. “Where exactly is the Ocean Mirage, anyway? I’m not from the area, and I haven’t really trusted GPS since the oligarchs all but admitted that they were using it to track dissenters out West.”
“Great,” the major replied with obvious relief. “The Mirage is located just down Grand Boulevard from you. That’s the major street you have all of the Infantry Fighting Vehicles guarding. Head toward the beach and keep going about three blocks until you see the brown building. Each commander will bring two people, but the Mirage should be neutral ground. It’s not terribly near anyone’s base of operations, so the hope is that you’d be comfortable meeting with us there.”
“An hour sounds good,” Dan answered. “I look forward to meeting you in person.”
“Likewise, Thrush,” Stallsforth responded before cutting the connection.
Almost immediately, Dan called William and Abe over to talk details. After a brief debate over who would be joining the expedition, they left a sulking Jennifer with the ship. Apparently, she was upset about being “left behind” on an “adventure.” Never mind that the landing site needed one of the group’s officers on hand, preferably one who could fly the Viceroy.
The trip to the Mirage was tense but uneventful. William and Abe marched on either side of Dan in their full power armor. Inwardly, he was a little annoyed with how the suits blocked his peripheral vision. If there truly were to be an ambush, he’d have no way of seeing it coming through the large hunks of metal and glass. At the same time, who in their right mind was going to take potshots at the guy escorted by two borderline bulletproof killing machines?
On the other hand, the armor was nothing else if not intimidating. The handful of soldiers Dan could see tracking their progress quickly shuffled away and avoided eye contact as soon as they tromped into view. Likely a relic of their time serving under Bowman, they looked more like beaten dogs than soldiers.
He wasn’t sure how much he could blame them. By all accounts, Bowman had gone completely mad with power. Any camaraderie or nobility that his troops might have had fled them as they were ordered to commit atrocity after atrocity. Hell, from Brianna’s telling of it, it wasn’t uncommon for Bowman to make one unit discipline the families of another low-performing unit in front of them in order to breed distrust. Apparently, his lackeys would pick a unit at random for the “honor,” and any unit failing to perform their tasks zealously enough would be subject to penalties themselves.
Abe and William agreed that it was probably a program meant to prevent mutinies. The army’s morale was incredibly low due to the nation’s collapse and being forced to prey on civilians. Only through fear of Bowman and a distrust of the other units was he able to keep his forces in line.
The Mirage itself was a fairly nice hotel. Once upon a time, it was probably a hot spot for the famous, or for those rich enough to pretend to be famous. The reception was a huge promenade of polished stone with looming pillars of marble framing the concierge’s desk. An attentive-looking sergeant standing near one of the pillars perked up at their arrival and quickly ushered the three of them into a large dining hall.
Like the hotel itself, the dining hall was a bit opulent for Dan’s taste. Rich drapes dangled two stories to cover the giant windows overlooking the ocean. The walls and floor were both dark hardwood, likely made of something unpronounceable and unfathomably expensive. In short, it was the sort of place that usually had guest lists, largely to keep people like him out.
Around the dining hall were several trios of soldiers. Many looked as uncomfortable and out of sorts with their environment as Dan, but at least a couple of the groups were happily drinking cocktails and gawking at the fancy surroundings.
Conversation stopped when they walked in, Abe and William drawing everyone’s attention as they barely fit through the doors. After a couple seconds of silence, whispering filled the room. A terse smile crossed Dan’s face as he glanced around. The powered armor had made the impression he’d wanted. Hopefully, it would be enough to help convince the more reluctant amongst the soldiers to sign up.
A woman in her early fifties, grey just starting to touch her close-cut hair, got up from her seat and walked up to Dan, hand extended while her eyes flicked questioningly toward William and Abe.
“Daniel Thrush, I presume?” Her smile was a little forced, but it was clear that she was trying. “I’m Major Stallsforth; it’s good to finally meet you in person. Would you, uh…”
Her gaze trailed back to Abe’s armor, taking in the missing paint from Orakh axes alongside the chrome dimples where it’d deflected bullets. “Would you mind introducing your friends then taking a seat so we can get started?”
Dan nodded at William, who triggered the release on his armor’s faceshield before stepping forward to address the crowd.
“I believe that’s my cue.” William let out a soft laugh. “Some of you should know me, but for those who don’t, my name is William Finch. Once upon a time, I was a general in the United States Army. Now, things have gone to shit, and unless someone puts their big boy boots on and tries to make sense of this chaos, we’re all in for a rough couple of years.”
William’s gaze swept the room, making eye contact with the various unit commanders. “If we sit around here with our thumbs up our asses fighting each other, one of the oligarchs out West is going to take over. They’re probably a better option than Bowman was, but having to bend my neck to them would really chap my ass. They’re the dickheads that started this entire mess, and I’ll be damned if I sign my country over to them.”
“Do we really have to fucking listen to this bullshit?!” A man shouted, leaping to his feet. “Why the hell are we listening to these guys? Because of who they were before the aliens showed up? That’s over and done. They just show up out of nowhere and kill Hans, and suddenly everyone is ready to kowtow to them like they’re the fucking Pharoah or something!”
Dan raised an eyebrow at Stallsforth.
“Colonel Mathers,” she supplied in a whisper. “He was never one of Bowman’s inner circle, but a lot of us thought he was working for them. Everybody knew better than to confide anything in him because it’d make it back to Bowman or one of his hatchetmen in a matter of hours.”
“Why’s he here, then?” Dan asked, a frown creasing his face. “I’d think someone like that wouldn’t be all that keen on working with us, and judging by his tone of voice, I think I’m right.”
“I don’t know, really.” Stallsforth shrugged. “I thought he was going to be one of the people heading home rather than hearing you out. We extended the offer to him because it wouldn’t be polite to do otherwise, but I don’t think any of us actually expected him to show up.”
“You can go home if you want to.” William was speaking again, drowning out Major Stallsforth. “I’m not making you stay here. Of course, that’d be turning your back on your oath to the people of this great nation a third time. The first when you stood by and let the warlords attack the Capital. The second when you turned a blind eye to Bowman’s excesses. Now, I get why you stood down. Bowman would have made an example of you. He was a mean bastard, that was for sure, but all of you know exactly what you did on his orders. What you have to atone for.”
William winked at the crowd. “That said, there’s no one with a gun to your head here today. I’m just asking you to do the right thing. Whether you do it or not is up to you.”
“Atone for?” Mathers’ face screwed up in rage. “You killed my commanding officer in cold blood while he was sleeping in his fucking bed. I think the real question is whether you actually expect to be able to walk out of here after spouting this crock of shit, right guys?”
Mathers looked back at the crowd of officers, obviously expecting support. No one made eye contact with him. Somewhere in the hall, a woman cleared her throat uncomfortably.
“I think you’re all alone right now, boy.” William shook his head, most of his mirth evaporating. “Look, the offer to just walk away is still good, but you should probably shut your mouth before you say something you can’t take back. Word of advice.”
Mathers went for his gun, his eyes flashing.
Dan activated his temporal rune, slowing Mathers’ hand to a crawl. Just as the pistol cleared his holster, Dan’s Lightning Stroke took him in the chest. A Forcebolt slammed into the chest of both Mathers’ companions, knocking them to the ground and likely breaking ribs as Dan crossed the distance between them in a flash.
He brought his foot down, heel-first, on Mathers’ wrist. It snapped with an audible crack. The disabled man began screaming as his brain registered the injury. A couple seconds later, Abe arrived, slinging the man over his shoulder and carrying him from the room.
“And that,” William cut in as the wails faded, “is what we bring to the table. Technology beyond human understanding and magic. Of course, the support of a nearby political entity and a fair amount of military hardware doesn’t hurt, either.”
“Now.” He leaned against the hardwood wall, ignoring its groan of protest as it struggled to accommodate his armor. “Who wants to talk business?”