Shadow Heart (51 page)

She spoke as she made her way to the front of the line, taking pleasure in the fact that they all noticed her change of attire and seemed heartened by it. “Gentlemen,” she began. “Words can’t express how honored I have been to serve as your commander. Nor can they describe your courage in volunteering for this assignment. Our enemy outnumbers us, and they come with the intention to eradicate us all. The men standing here, our families who have taken refuge in this city, all of us.”

Grace reached the front of the line, and could now see clearly what was happening outside. The Spectorium had formed up into lines and was preparing to assault the building. She turned back to her men and went on strongly. “You may still hold on to some hope of survival. Let that hope go, for we will all die here today. We each have our own reasons: some for God, some for love...some for liberty or redemption. Hold tight to your purpose, for it is all you have left. In that approaching force there are three Specters for every one of you. Three men who want to destroy you and then destroy everything you fight for.

“As my last act as your commander, I do not ask that you fight bravely. I do not ask that you give it your all. All I ask of you tonight, men of Silent Thunder, is that before you die you take three of those bastards with you!”

The men shouted their affirmation, and Grace felt the adrenaline of battle begin to surge through her veins. She drew
Novus Vita
, and as it came to life in a flash of white flame she was relieved to know that she would die with a Gladius in hand.

Her action was followed by the activation of fifty-one more blades, and the terrible harmony of all of their songs playing at her back.

“Like father, like daughter,” Crenshaw said softly beside her.

“Let’s hope that’s true,” Grace replied. “I intend to take a lot more than three with me.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

“If you see Derek Blaine, save him for me.” She broke into a run, crashing through the door into the open air, and led the charge down into the city square.

- X -

“Here they come, sir!” Gentry pointed.

Derek's eyes narrowed in the direction of the oncoming enemy as they descended the stairs from the main entrance. He wanted to give them a little breathing room so his men could surround and overpower them, though it took all the patience he could muster. He had not engaged an enemy on the field of battle in months, not since the Conglomerate had shifted their focus to South America. The notion of waging war again—real war, not these cat-and-mouse tactics—exhilarated him. His only regret was that as grand admiral he was responsible to direct the fighting from the rear and only participate if forced to do so.

As such, when the Spectorium charged forward across the field, he and his entourage would remain behind them.

“Now, Gentry,” he said. “Order them forward.”

Gentry whispered into his comm, relating the orders to all of the Specter Captains, and the Spectorium surged forward. Derek smiled. They would meet just short of halfway across the square. Perfect positioning.

“You may have your work cut out for you today, Gentry,” Derek said. “When we join the battle, I will need you to watch my back.”

“
When
, sir?”

“Yes,” Derek smiled. “I have no intention of sitting this one out. I’ll bet you anything Grace Sawyer is with that group, and I won’t let someone else take what is rightfully mine. I made a promise to an old friend, and the time has come to fulfill it.

“Today, Gentry, is the day I avenge Specter Captain 301-14-A.”

G
RACE COUNTED EACH IMPACT
of her boots against the ground, dull thumps that became more muted as they reached the flat concrete of the square. For a few brief seconds she felt like a little girl again, running though open fields with no thought but the arms of her father that awaited her somewhere within. He would jump out at her from the tall grass, and she would scream, but it would be from delight as he pulled her into a tight embrace. She could still feel the vibration of his laughter, a drum to her small form.

But then she saw the white light of her Spectral Gladius swaying in front of her, felt it as an extension of her arm, and sensed the heavy beating of her own heart as her body prepared for the trauma of battle. She heard the sound of more boots behind her, a subtle thunder in an otherwise peaceful world. The enemy spread out before them, a string of black phantoms come to slaughter them and leave their bodies to the crows.

Memories of innocence fell away. That little girl had grown into a warrior, not by choice but out of necessity. Out of fear. Now she was commander in her own right, leading her father’s men on their last stand. How far she had come from that girl terrified for her own destiny.

Her breathing was rhythmic, almost in time with her footfalls, and she began to count down the seconds in her mind,
Ten...nine...

She was tied to a post, rope digging into her skin as she pulled it tout as if to flee. They took her roughly by the arm and burned a number into her skin. The pain seared her body, but it was the knowledge of what had just transpired that destroyed her: she had fallen victim to the fate she feared the most. Her life was no longer her own.

Eight...seven...

There he was, kneeling before her. He lifted her chin to look at him, and she resisted. But the light of hope had gone out of her body, and she had no strength left to deny this man to whom she now belonged. She met his eyes, and her soul burned in a completely different way than just seconds before. There was something about him...something familiar...something she trusted.

Six...five
...

She was in love. She had tried to stop it, had tried to guard herself from feeling anything for this man who was her captor, but in their time together she had seen the man behind the World System’s soldier, the kind of man she had been searching for all her life. Today was the day she meant to tell him the truth about how she felt, but instead he told her she had to leave.

Four...three...

He kissed her on the doorstep. She had never experienced such passion, had never been so caught up in a single moment that the rest of the world simply fell away. If she had been more courageous she might have told him the truth then, begged him not to leave her. But her pride got in the way, and after that moment of celestial bliss ended, she let him disappear into the shadows of the street.

Two...

She reached out to him through prison bars, touched his arm and begged him to get away while he still could. He wanted vengeance, and she feared he wanted it more than he had ever wanted her.
I will go
, he had said,
If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you do not love me.
Such a simple thing, it seemed. But she could not do it, and her last pleas to him were lost in the crash of rusted steel.

One...

She fought her way to him across a battlefield of fire and smoke. He had just saved her from a brutal death, and she could not leave him to die here alone. She saw his position, watched as he and Derek Blaine engaged in their Spectral death match, and then looked on helplessly as Blaine’s blade plunged straight through her lover’s shoulder. Then two shots rang out, twin proclamations of Napoleon Alexander’s victory.

Zero.

The love of her life lay still, dead on the cold wet ground.

“Hook formation!” she shouted into the silence. “Now!”

Their traditional battle lines shifted, with five operatives out front in a V-shaped vanguard while the rest fell in behind, two by two. Grace herself fell back into the vanguard’s left wing, in the outermost position. The force charged on, like an arrow loosed from a bowstring, and Grace readied her Gladius. She could now feel the footsteps of their enemies as well as those of her own men, and lamented that Bruce's count had been about right: they were outnumbered three to one.

But there was no time to dwell on the impending doom before it fell upon them. The vanguard smashed into the charging line of the Spectorium, and the peace of the square shattered with a spill of blood.

- X -

Derek Blaine’s mouth hung open in disbelief as he studied Silent Thunder’s formation. They concentrated all their force on the center of the Spectorium offensive, and the lines crumbled. The Silent Thunder vanguard cut their way through their opponents with startling speed and agility, leaving the men behind to mop up the stragglers.

He heard Gentry curse beside him.

“Recognize it, do you?” Derek said wryly. Gentry merely nodded. It was the very same tactic the Persians had used to cut through the Great Army just south of Montreal, down to the exact number of men in the vanguard.
Men
, he thought, though he knew there was at least one woman down there, commanding the charge.

The Silent Thunder formation sliced straight through the center of the Spectorium, dividing it into two halves. The Persians had cut through the Great Army and moved on, but he doubted that would be Silent Thunder’s ploy. He did not want the opportunity to find out.

“Concentrate the rear lines to meet their vanguard,” Derek commanded. “Slow their momentum, trap them in the center, and then crush them.”

Gentry relayed his orders, and the back of the Spectorium shifted into a V-shaped pattern of its own, the point awaiting Silent Thunder’s arrow with a much thicker grouping of bodies. Derek watched closely, itching to be down there, to break the rebel advance with the swing of his own blade. In battles like these, one man could mean the difference between victory and defeat.

The two Vs met, and for a moment it seemed to have worked. The greater concentration of Specters stopped the Silent Thunder vanguard in their tracks. Their advance was halted...the rest was a foregone conclusion. He was almost disappointed.

“Bring Sawyer to me alive,” Derek said. And then, imagining the chaos taking place at the site of Silent Thunder’s broken vanguard, realized just how unlikely that would be. “If possible.”

- X -

Both of the men in front of Grace in the vanguard were struck down before her eyes, and others stepped up from behind to take their place. Blaine had been quick enough on his feet to halt their charge, and if they remained here too long they would be crushed between the two halves of the Spectorium.

Blood stained the ground red, and the cries of dying men—both friend and foe—echoed back at her from the darkening sky. A mad-faced Specter came at her, more beast than human, teeth gnashing with the fury of battle. Their blades crossed once, twice, and then he slipped in a pool of blood. She stabbed him through the heart.

“Photons!” she shouted as she withdrew
Novus Vita
from the dead Specter. “Now! Do it now!”

The vanguard had reformed, but at her order men passed through from behind, their blades morphing into barrels. They took aim at the line of Specters set before them, and opened fire.

-X-

An explosion ripped through the Spectorium’s rear lines, and then another, and another... Dirt and smoke obscured the field, but he knew even before he saw: his rear line had been obliterated by Solithium photon fire. Dread pulled at his stomach at the loss, yet still he could not suppress a smile. He had halted Silent Thunder for mere seconds, and though those seconds had costed the rebels dearly, Grace Sawyer had made sure it cost him even more.

Impressive.

The Silent Thunder formation broke through the clearing smoke and divided in two sections, both of which curved outward in opposite directions.

“What are they doing?”

“Coming around for another pass,” Derek said. “Only this time there will be two arrows.”

Sure enough, the two lines reformed into two separate vanguards and charged the rear flanks of the Spectorium, whose members were still reeling from the photon attack.
Well, I can play that game as well
.

“Authorize the use of photon fire,” Derek said. “Tell them to aim at the enemy’s feet, not the enemy themselves. Then allow the formation to reach the center of our forces and converge. Cut the vanguards off from the rest of their men. Do not let them get all the way through again.”

-X-

The second charge proved even more successful than the first.
Hook formation,
her father had called it, a tactic Silent Thunder had not used since their campaign against the Persians. Her knowledge of it had been purely academic, straight from his war stories, until today. Now she saw first-hand what an effective strategy it made.

Fear shone on the faces of the Specters, their confidence melted by the swift and unexpected display of warcraft, but it would not last. Derek Blaine had reacted more quickly than she anticipated, and he would eventually find a way to bring his superior numbers to bear. But for now Silent Thunder had the momentum, and she needed to keep it that way as long as possible.

Novus Vita
sliced through air and flesh, a cruel administer of death as Grace led the charge of the left vanguard. In those moments she knew nothing but battle, and she waged it with every ounce of strength and skill she possessed. For a while she no longer felt human...she was a powerful gale, Gladius whirling and parrying and thrusting, a creature of instinct and an unstoppable force.