Warbound: Book Three of the Grimnoir Chronicles (36 page)

The picture of the Enemy had fallen on the rug. Jacques was still staring at it, like it wanted to crawl out of the ink and eat their souls. “What do you intend to do?”

“I don’t know yet. Win . . . Somehow.”

He was shaken, but he found his spine. “What do you want from me? What can I do to help?”

“Tell the elders I’m still alive, and then tell them to stay out of my way. Convince them that we’re about to get attacked, everywhere, and that we’ll need to be ready. Convince
everybody
. The pictures show men that ain’t really men, and they’re hiding, waiting, all over the whole wide world, ready to start collecting Actives. I need to find my friends before it’s too late. They don’t know what they’re getting into against this old samurai with the shadow living inside his head. They’re in the pictures, in a city with funny buildings and oriental writing on the signs.”

Jacques was still distracted by the idea that he’d been wrong, that magic was about to be chased from the world, and all life on Earth was about to be extinguished. “Shanghai. Jake Sullivan’s expedition is in Shanghai,” he mumbled.

Faye got up and gathered her meager belongings. “Power made me the Spellbound for a reason. Some of the other folks it picked before weren’t good enough, so I need to set things straight, take back things that have been done wrong. I’ve got some things I need to do first, then I’m going to Shanghai to beat this thing once and for all,” she stated with grim determination before she Traveled away.

Then she nearly scared Jacques to death for a second time when she reappeared a moment later. “Wait . . . Where is Shanghai, anyway?”

Art to come

Evil Fay

Chapter 15

If there is one lesson which I could pass down it is this: It does not matter what situation the adventurer finds himself in, from stalking lions in the tall grass, to living among cannibal tribes in New Guinea, or riding a raft over a giant waterfall. If you expect to survive, you must keep your wits about you. You must keep your firearms clean, your knives sharp, and—if you are lucky enough to have it—your magic ready, but no amount of Power or equipment or fancy kit will make up for a lack of brains and guts. When danger looms, don’t hesitate, commit.

That reminds me of a story about this one time I was mountaineering in Tibet . . .

—Lance S. Talon,

Journey Into Danger
, 1923

Free City of Shanghai

It would be the last time
the commanders would meet before the attack. The main floor of the rotting safe house was absolutely packed. It was dangerous to put them all here, as a single Japanese artillery shell could cut the head right off their conspiracy and end their hastily laid plans in one ugly strike, but it was necessary. Sullivan would trust any of these men with his life, but he hadn’t been able to brief them on all the details before leaving the
Traveler,
partly because they’d been worried about somebody getting rolled up by the secret police, but mostly because at that point he hadn’t really worked out all the details.

The seventeenth was the date of the riot they’d paid for, and it was coming up fast.

Luckily, a coded message had arrived from Buckminster Fuller, and it had contained the last thing he’d been hoping for. The note had read:
It works. Mostly.
And then there had been a handful of doodles and numbers which would have seemed like gibberish to anybody else, but Sullivan had gotten the idea. It wasn’t perfect. Not even close, but it might give them a shot.

Sullivan had sent for the others. It had taken another two days to move everyone out of sight of the stepped up patrols and army of snitches, but he’d gotten them all here. It was good to see them. Luckily they hadn’t lost a knight to the city yet. Shanghai was such a large, busy, crime-ridden city that even though the Imperium had the local government under their thumb, they couldn’t possibly watch everything.

The senior members of the expedition were still committed as ever. A week hiding in Shanghai’s slums hadn’t dulled the knights’ enthusiasm. Barns had come representing the
Traveler.
Sullivan had hoped to leave the ship out of the assassination attempt, but that wasn’t looking likely, considering how Fuller’s gizmo worked. Fuller’s plan sounded nuts, but Barns swore up and down the Marauders could pull it off.

So far they’d covered the basics, assigned duties and decided who would best serve in which element of the assault, determined their areas of responsibilities, and planned their potential escape routes. If the Grimnoir were going to succeed in exposing the false Chairman, then they would need to execute the plan flawlessly, and that meant that they needed to go over every last detail with painstaking care.

Lance whistled at a particularly bad detail. “The hell you say.
How
many Iron Guards?”

“I did not misspeak. For a ceremony such as this, there will be at least forty, perhaps as many as one hundred,” Zhao answered. “Our spy at the last event counted sixty Iron Guards that he could see. Plus he suspected there were more hidden in the crowd, dressed as regular soldiers or administrators.”

“Those were not Iron Guard,” Toru interjected. “Any of my former order would be proudly wearing his best uniform at such an event. It would be shameful and dishonorable to do otherwise . . . But the Shadow Guard, on the other hand . . . I would expect at least a squad of Fades and Travelers to be present and most likely in disguise.”

There were five thousand Imperium soldiers garrisoned around the “Free City”
of Shanghai, but the only ones he was really worried about were the ones who would be at the ceremony. If Big Eared Du’s Yuesheng Greens did their job, the majority of the Imperium military and police would be too busy to interfere. Twenty thousand criminals throwing a riot was pretty hard to ignore, even in Shanghai. “And how many regular Imperium troops will there be at the estate?” Sullivan asked. “Just because somebody isn’t a magical heavy hitter don’t mean they can’t still put a bullet into one of us. What’re we talking about?”

“There are five platoons of Imperium scum . . .” Zhao caught himself and looked over at Toru. Luckily, Toru didn’t seem to be paying attention, or he was working on his diplomacy and had simply let it pass. “Five platoons of Imperium soldiers have been taken from the front, and are now traveling with the Chairman. Normally there are two such groups stationed at the Imperium Section in New City.”

Sullivan walked slowly around the map of Shanghai. It was a big map, stolen from the British bank’s offices, and they’d had to bring in every table in the place to set it up. He took in the various coins, bottle caps, cigarette butts, baseball cards, and even a couple of toy soldiers, which represented his forces, and the wooden blocks, which represented the Imperium. His own icon was a rock, and it was sitting smack dab in the middle of the Imperium Section, right in the Chairman’s face. He figured since their air power was now involved and at risk, he might as well make the best use out of it. Sullivan was going to take the
fast way down.

“What’s an Imperium platoon run at, Toru?” Lance asked.

“It depends on its mission and its operational status. A fully reinforced Imperium weapons platoon would have a maximum of sixty-four men each.”

“Japs run their units bigger than the AEF did. That’s . . . four hundred and forty-eight soldiers.”

“I did not know Beasties could do multiplication,” Toru said flatly. “Keep in mind, these are troops recently brought from the front, so it is only because their unit has demonstrated considerable martial prowess, and many of them will have been summoned in order to receive high commendations. It is an incredible honor to serve as military escorts for a visit from the Chairman. They will all be experienced warriors.”

“Oh good. So if any villages full of defenseless Chinamen show up needing to be massacred, they’ll be ready,” Lance said. Most of the room laughed. It helped break the tension.

Toru scowled, but didn’t respond. Which was good, because Lady Origami was quietly standing in the back of the room, and Sullivan knew she was just itching for an excuse to make Toru spontaneously combust. “There are other complications as well. I know that there were two
gakutensuko
stationed at the palace, previously. They may be present.”

“Mechanical men?” Diamond asked. His team had fought them at Mason Island.

“Similar to those American . . .
robots
. But the
gakutensuko
are superior in virtually every way. Speed, durability, decision making . . .”

“You once said their guns are smaller,” Sullivan pointed out.

“Size is not everything,” Toru declared. Several of the American knights snickered, and this time Toru didn’t seem to have any clue why.

“Those could be a problem, if we get in, but before that I see a few problems with our approach.” Diamond was leading one of the three assault elements. As a Mover, he didn’t even need to approach the map to move the baseball card which represented his group. Sullivan noticed it was a Ruth card. The Babe simply floated off the paper and down the blue line of the Whangpoo River. “This bridge into the section is wide open. How are we supposed to make it past this checkpoint without being seen?”

“You don’t,” Sullivan answered. “Wait until I make my move, then hit it hard and push through. Hopefully they’ll all be focused on me, so it’ll buy you a minute.”

Diamond let the baseball card float back down. “You’ll probably get killed during that minute.”

“Eh.” Sullivan shrugged. “I ain’t planning on it.” He reached over and thumped the map. “Important thing is that both routes out of the neighborhood are cut off. We can’t let the Imposter get away.”

There was the polite clearing of a throat. Sullivan looked up to see Dr. Wells shouldering his way through the assorted Grimnoir. The way the thin man so easily bumped aside the robust young men suggested he was using just a bit of his Power. “The Imposter will not try to escape. He knows it is vital that he act as the Chairman would during this attack. To do otherwise would invite suspicion.”

“The Chairman would never flee from battle,” Toru agreed. “Never. In his own writings, he taught retreat is only acceptable when it is from a superior foe in order to save your forces for future conflict. For the Chairman to retreat would suggest that he had a superior foe. That is impossible.”

“I reckon Faye would disagree with that,” Lance said. Their Beastie was really looking for trouble today, but it was probably because he was distracted with keeping a bird in the air on the look out for incoming trouble.

“Regardless, he’s not really the Chairman,” Heinrich said. “So what the Chairman would do is irrelevant.”

“Quite the contrary.” Wells smiled like the broken predator he was. “He is not the Chairman, which means that he will feel insecure and thus go out of his way to act in the manner which he perceives would be correct. You saw how quickly Toru decided that the Chairman would
never
flee. This is an immediate assumption shared by all of the Iron Guard. The Chairman, being himself, would have far more agency in his decision making. Dosan Saito does not. His deceptions have become his own trap. No, he’s not going anywhere.”

Ian Wright wasn’t convinced. “Assuming he isn’t the real Chairman, because then he could just Travel right out of there whenever he felt like.”

“Travel?” Lance cut the Summoner off. “Hell, that’s the least of our worries. If he’s still the real deal, you’d better hope he leaves. Otherwise we’re all dead as soon as we piss him off.”

“Fair point . . . But whoever he is, he knows we’re in Shanghai, or at least he knows our Iron Guard is—”

“I am not
your
Iron Guard,” Toru corrected.

“Whatever you are, he knows you’re here because you’ve been murdering secret policemen in public all week! They’re going to be on high alert because of your personal blood feud, or whatever the hell it is you’ve got going on here.”

“It is true,” Zhao said. “The
Tokubetsu Koto Keisatsu
have stepped up their campaign against us. They are offering a huge amount of gold for information. This meeting was very difficult to arrange. They are watching everything now.”

Ian pointed an accusatory finger at Toru. “You didn’t even attempt to hide your identity.”

Wells seemed rather pleased with himself. “That was my idea.”

“What?”

Sullivan stepped in before too many of the knights got worked up. “Toru’s famous in the Imperium now. We’re using that to our advantage.”

“My continued existence is a personal insult to the Imperium,” Toru stated without inflection. “Backing down from such an insult would be dishonorable. My presence ensures the Imposter’s visit will continue as planned. To do otherwise would be to lose face.”

“Absolutely,” said Wells. “If it was only you Grimnoir, then Saito could easily make some excuse and avoid the city entirely. He’d simply leave us to be dealt with by his minions. Toru, however, is a slap in the face. He cannot be overlooked. His presence here practically demands a response from Saito. In reality, it is unlikely that anyone would question the Chairman changing his mind, yet Saito’s insecurities will not allow him to make the reasonable choice. He will take this risk and come to Shanghai. He will continue on his scheduled business,
because
Toru is present.”

The Grimnoir were thinking about it. Sullivan could see the wheels turning. They were a crafty bunch. “It increases our exposure and makes us all more vulnerable. You know he’ll try to root us out before then, but this is the only way we can guarantee this son of a bitch shows his mug. He can’t back down.”

There were some murmurs, but most of the Grimnoir seemed to like the idea. Maybe a frontal assault against a numerically superior foe made up of the most elite military in the world wasn’t totally bad. Which was good, because now came the part where Sullivan told them about the
crazy
part of his plan.

After the meeting had broken up, most of the Grimnoir had skulked off back to their own hiding places to brief their men, while the others had found places to sleep amidst the wreckage of the hovel. Toru had gone back to his sacred work. He knelt among the armored bits in a room filled with peeling wallpaper and spreading water stains and concentrated on doing the impossible.