Night's Pawn (36 page)

Pulling himself up, he looked ahead to see the rest of the squad rushing forward, Demchenko in the lead. Beyond them, he could see a ruined hallway and room doors, and at least one figure in black and gray battle dress being dragged to safety. There was gunfire, heavy automatic fire, in that direction as well. But no more magic. A mystic booby trap? he thought.

Barely heard above the gunfire, something broke behind him, and Chase spun, dropping to one knee and bringing his gun to bear. Two men were there, panic on their faces. One carried a submachine gun, the other some kind of double-barreled shotgun. The one with the shotgun made the mistake of raising it slightly, and Chase fired. The burst tore into him, knocking the man back flailing into the room from which the pair had just come. The other froze.

There were more flashes of cyan and red behind Chase, but he didn't turn. The second man winced and took a half step backward, dropping his gun. Chase sprinted over and slammed him against the wall.

"Where's Alexander?"

The man glanced furtively between Chase and the direction of the gunfire. His eyes were wild.

"Tell me!"

The man looked back at Chase and it seemed in that moment that the reality of what was happening sank in. "Upstairs," he said.

Chase released him, turning as he did and reaching for the man's submachine gun. Chase slammed his elbow backward, catching the man just above the solar plexus.

There was a sharp crack, and the man collapsed. Chase tossed the weapon on top of a nearby cabinet.

He entered the room from which the men had come, stepping carefully over the bloody form sprawled just inside the doorway. It seemed to be an auxiliary kitchen area that was partially used for storage. Across from him, a flimsy door stood open. Approaching it, Chase just barely made out a narrow stairway beyond.

Pushing the door open with the barrel of his combat rifle, he scanned the stairs. They were old, but showed signs of recent repair. More gunfire, followed by two quick explosions. More grenades, Chase thought.

He used the noise as cover and vaulted up the stairs. Quickly reaching the top, he flattened himself against the wall just inside the door. He tried the handle, found that the door was not locked. He twisted the handle, giving it just enough pressure to swing the door open as he dropped to one knee.

The corridor beyond was dim, but lit sporadically by the flare of gunfire from farther beyond. Chase could also clearly hear the automatic fire: the distinctive tones of the combat rifle, and closer, the sounds of more conventional assault rifles. He stepped into the hallway, and glanced in both directions. Clear.

He moved quickly in the direction of the gunfire, passing a blown-out doorway. The room, shattered by the concussion grenades at the start of the raid, contained three bodies, one a woman's. He didn't stop.

Coming to an intersection, he could see flashes and bursts of gunfire just around the corner. Then came another flash of brilliant red, with barely any noise accompanying it, followed by a shudder of the whole building. The fight was there, just ahead. And so, he expected, would be Alexi.

Chase squatted down, turning into the other corridor, leading with his combat rifle. At the end of the short hall, maybe a half-dozen meters from him, was the enemy. Magical energy flowed around them, shielding their position from the sustained gunfire below them. They were in position on a balcony overlooking what Chase assumed was the main entrance, though he couldn't see it.

There were four of them, three heavily armed, and Alexi. The three were firing at those below, while Alexi had apparently stepped back to catch his breath. Chase was amazed to see the last energy shards of some spell dissipating around him. He looked tired but defiant.

His brother. Alive.

Chase stood up slowly, keeping his weapon trained on them. Doubled over, Alexi was still trying to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from him, and he wiped it away with the already-soaked arm of his jacket.

Alexi was older than Chase by two years, but looked younger, even worn and battered as he was now. There was an energy about him that he had rarely ever expressed, but that Chase had always seen burning in his eyes. Now it raged through him, driving him.

The men with his brother suddenly dashed forward, beyond their magical protection. Had the squads fallen back? Chase had heard nothing over the radio…

Alexi straightened, pushing damp hair back from his forehead with one hand. He ended up staring directly at Chase, and froze. Chase centered his targeting site on the center of his brother's chest, where even a loose grouping of rounds would be effective. Alexi stared at him, an unknown opponent in black and gray. How fast was his magic? Chase wondered. Faster than his own cybernetic trigger? Faster than—

Alexi moved, his hand coming up to point at Chase, blue-white energy trailing from it. Chase fired. He was faster.

The sustained burst tore into Alexi, knocking him backward into the wall. Chase fired again. His brother's body began to fall, but the hammering rounds held him up, balanced against the wall as it too was torn up by stray rounds.

The weapon emptied, and Alexi Komroff fell forward to crash facedown against the ground. His legs twitched for a moment and then his form was utterly still.

Chase stared at him as more gunfire echoed up from below. It had been so quick… Another explosion from somewhere else and a voice behind.

"Almost anticlimactic, wasn't it?"

Chase turned slowly, acutely aware that the clip in his combat rifle was empty and he had not reloaded. A man stood there, garbed in a dark suit cut so beautifully that it seemed too perfect to be real. His hair was almost gold and flashed oddly with red highlights. His eyes too were gold, almost like molten ore. A sense of power surrounded him and filled the hallway.

"He never even knew it was you," the man said in a deep, resonant voice that rooted Chase to the spot. "Kind of disappointing. I was hoping, at the very least, for some kind of last-minute realization, just before one or both of you killed each other."

Chase let his left arm drop, holding the combat rifle. He still had his heavy pistol.

"I'm being rude, though, aren't I?" the man continued. "You of course are Mikhail Komroff, brother to that half-mad corpse around the corner." He smiled, beguilingly. "And I am Alamais."

Chase started. Alamais, the great dragon. But he didn't—

"No, I don't, do I?" Alamais said. "Simple trick of shape-changing and mass displacement. Besides it's much easier getting around buildings made for humans if you look like one. Displeasing form, but it has its uses."

Chase heard some movement on the stairs far behind him, and so did Alamais. "Ah, company," he said with a frown. "I had so wanted to talk to you alone."

Another solider in black and gray stepped up alongside Chase. It was Demchenko, and the weapon he had leveled at the great dragon wasn't his combat rifle, but a large, boxy-shaped pistol. Chase didn't recognize the design.

Alamais barely glanced at him. "If we can't talk now, then I'm going to leave you with a bit of information so that I can be sure we'll talk again later. And that bit of news is that your brother didn't know."

Chase stared at Alamais and suddenly felt weightless. He wasn't aware of anything but the dragon, and his words.

"Oh, he despised you, to be sure," said the dragon, "but that intriguing human emotion called 'loyalty' stopped him from hunting you down. In this case it was the familial connection. So I took those steps for him.

"Through it all he never knew that 'Simon Church' was his brother. I wanted to see what he would do, and you as well, when your respective identities were revealed." Alamais smiled. "I wanted to see how alike you were, how much, as brothers, you shared the same values." The man-shaped dragon sighed. "I have my answer, but still more questions."

Chase started to speak, but he heard Demchenko suck in his breath. "No more questions," the senior sergeant said. His weapon fired, at least Chase thought it did. He felt a sensation, an odd tingling, and noticed some lights on the weapon change. Chase also noticed a thick power cable running from the grip of the weapon to the pack on Demchenko's back.

Chase turned to look at Alamais, who'd glanced down to where he presumed the weapon was hitting him, or at least where it was aimed. There seemed to be no effect.

"Again, how disappointing," the dragon said, frowning. "What is it supposed to do?"

The air felt warmer. Chase sensed Demchenko's grin. "Aim."

There was light everywhere.

It entered through the ceiling in blinding shafts. Pulses brighter than the sun struck the dragon, enveloping him in a corona of energy. A roar began, the mix of a dragon's pain and the rush of superheated air. The shock wave tossed Chase and Demchenko to the ground, and they felt the building buckle.

Light flashed, and Chase felt a searing pain in his legs as an enormous shape suddenly passed over him. Gold and red scales appeared around him as the dragon reverted to its true form. The floor broke, and Chase began to fall.

He was enveloped in darkness, then tossed aside by the passing of a giant clawed foot. The dragon was roaring, deafening him, the light still everywhere. Chase rolled over onto his back as best as he could, ignoring the terrible pain in his legs.

The dragon was rearing above him through the shattered roof, wings extended and fighting to clear the debris. A sphere of green-white energy surrounded him. Light flashed down from the clouds, long streaks of blinding energy pulsing against the shield the dragon had erected.

The hidden weapons in the transports were battle-grade lasers, and the weapon Demchenko had used was some sort of targeting device, Chase realized.

Light flashed again, and Chase couldn't look any longer. He rolled and spotted Demchenko's limp form a half-meter away in the rubble. Chase dragged himself over to the senior sergeant, then stopped in horror. Half of the man's body had been nearly burned away, and the side that remained was blackened.

The light came again, and Chase covered himself, fearful of the searing heat. It never came.

Chase looked up as Alamais' shield blocked the laser beams again. There were red flashes high above in the clouds in response to something the dragon was doing. It was a stand-off. The shield protected the dragon, but the clouds blocked him from being able to see the aircraft and to directly affect them with his magic. Alamais, though, was shaking the remains of the building loose. Chase had no doubt that once free and able to fly, the aircraft would be no match for him.

The lasers fired again from a different part of the clouds, and again Chase ducked. Brilliant light surged around him, but again he felt no heat.

He was within the shield. He was inside Alamais' protection.

Chase's gaze fell on Demchenko's combat rifle lying a meter away. Dragging himself, Chase reached it and felt it respond to his grip. It was working. Checking its status he found that the clip was full, as was the small magazine that held eight minigrenades.

Chase rolled onto his back, and pointed the weapon at the dragon rearing above him. The last part of the roof fell away from the dragon's wing.

Light flared again, and Chase fired, shifting the weapon from burst to full-automatic fire. The stream of bullets caught the dragon in the exposed underside, and the recoil pulled the weapon, tracking it toward the creature's head. Chase cybernetically adjusted the timing of the minigrenades so that they'd detonate almost immediately after launch, rather than on impact.

The gunfire did little damage, but the dragon glanced down. Chase fired again, and a minigrenade launched from the under-barrel of the weapon. It exploded just shy of the dragon's head, rocking it back. Chase felt the blast, winced, and fired again. The dragon had twisted, and the second grenade glanced off its wing before detonating, tearing into the wing's membrane.

The dragon howled, and energy grew around its head, centered in its eyes. Chase felt those eyes turning toward him, and fired. The grenade exploded high above him, and beyond the blast Chase saw the green-white shield flicker, and dissipate.

The dragon reared back its head and howled in fury.

Energy lanced down from the clouds.

This time Chase felt the heat.

35

It took a careful, knowing eye to notice the change in the color of the black plasticrete runway rushing below the aircraft, now moments from contact. Jason Chase did not watch for them.

He knew they were there.

That was enough.