Fractured Earth: Viceroy’s Pride Book Three Read online

  “I’m married-” the stranger began, confusion wrinkling his brow.

  “Then you, ma’am,” Abe turned from the lost-looking bystander to a woman who had stopped to take in the spectacle. “Do you want to be some sort of shrinking violet, or do you want to get out there, seize life by the throat, and set it on fire with your mind?”

  “What do you mean, ‘set it on fire with my mind’?” she asked, her head cocked with a bemused expression on her face as she approached Abe.

  “A lady after my own heart!” Abe stepped forward, grabbing her hand in both of his before getting down on one knee. “We are here to recruit the most august and noble of individuals to become mercenaries. The benefits include access to advanced and dangerous technology, as well as the ability to access and learn magic. Before long, you’ll be able to wield the very building blocks of the cosmos themselves as you smite your enemies.”

  “Magic?” She glanced down at Abe’s hands on her own incredulously. “You’re gonna need a better pick up line than that. Unless you can actually start something on fire with your mind, I’ve got to get home.”

  Abe pivoted on his knee and pointed at Dan expectantly. Grudgingly, he raised his hand, firing a Flame Jet into the air. Most people knew that magic existed now. There were too many videos from the conflict in Brazil for anyone to believe otherwise. It just wasn’t a common sight anywhere outside of Florida, where most of the campaign’s veterans had ended up.

  Almost instantly, the clamor of people going to and fro stopped. Within thirty seconds, their table was surrounded by bored individuals, out of work and looking for some sort of show or entertainment.

  “There is your magic, my dear!” Abe sprang to his feet. “The world is falling apart, and the Orakh are at your doorstep, but we aren’t helpless! Thrush’s Raiders are on hand, ready to hire those who are willing to fight. We will arm you, train you, and inch-by-inch, we will reclaim our nation from the aliens, with your help.”

  “Aren’t you guys the team that’s been clearing the way for our patrols?” A male voice shouted from the sudden crowd surrounding their table.

  “I’m glad you asked, good sir!” Abe pointed in the general direction of the speaker. “Mayor DuBlanc has contracted with us on numerous occasions to keep the Orakh’s numbers down, but soon we will be pushing into the heart of their nest. For that, we need volunteers. Plus, once New Orleans is safe, we’ll need to free Manhattan. After that, New Zealand, Madagascar, and Ceylon all need help. In this new and troubled age, there will always be a need for a strong and steady arm, and Thrush’s Raiders are angling to be the first and best answer to that need!”

  Dan leaned over to Jennifer, who was doing her utmost to avoid snickering. “Do you have any idea where this came from? I thought you said you were trying to punish Abe, not us.”

  “I probably should have guessed that he didn’t have a sense of shame,” she replied, her eyes fixed on Abe’s antics as she hastily covered her mouth. “I honestly don’t know how he’s doing this. I’m assuming he drank a couple hurricanes before he got started.”

  “Of course, I’m the one that he keeps pointing at to perform tricks like some sort of trained monkey.” Dan rolled his eyes. “I swear to God, Abe missed his calling as a used car salesman to work in the special forces. No suburban window shopper would’ve been safe from him.”

  “Now, line up, men and women!” Abe jumped to his feet, waving excitedly in Dan and Jennifer’s direction. “Together we’re going to clean your swamps of the invaders and take back what is rightfully humanity’s! With a little skill and daring, you could be a vital part of that process and earn some coin and learn a trade while doing so.”

  Quickly, the crowd converged on their table. Over the course of an hour, they took at least eighty names and numbers of interested parties. With William’s help, they were able to cut those numbers in half.

  It still took Dan a couple hours to awaken all of the candidates, but once they tossed out the individuals without a magical affinity, they were able to focus on the physically fit and those with dual affinities. Another day passed before Sam had the twenty selected for the company fitted with a copy of the system.

  Dan was worried about her. Sam wasn’t the same vibrant and brash person he remembered. After he pulled her out of Ibis’ compound, she just wasn’t the same. Withdrawn and quiet, she did the work they assigned her, but she never smiled, secluding herself from the rest of the team.

  Once they got a minute to calm down and talk, Dan was going to make her see a therapist. Sam had been through a lot, but dwelling on it wasn’t going to fix anything. She needed professional help if she actually wanted to improve her situation.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Raid (I)

  Unfortunately, a week wasn’t anywhere near enough time to train the twenty or so new additions to the team. They did have enough suits of power armor for all of them, once Sam made some repairs to the equipment salvaged from Thoth headquarters and Dan updated their runescripting, but having the equipment didn’t make the new hires combat-ready.

  Abe and William had all too much fun drilling them on how to use their suits. Dan wasn’t entirely sure if the “drill sergeant screaming in your face” thing was real or just a movie schtick, but both of them seemed to get a kick out of using it on the fresh blood. Once things settled down a bit, Dan would instruct them on how to use magic. But, in the meantime, all they had to do was pour mana into the simple runes of the armor in order to fortify it.

  The Orakh weren’t as agile as the elves. They were fast, but in the sense that a human athlete was fast. Other than their Shamans, most of them responded to bullets of a large enough caliber fairly favorably. True, you needed to confirm the kill, but a couple shots from a high-caliber weapon or a flamethrower was more than enough to bring them down.

  The real problem was that the Orakh didn’t attack in small groups. Near the edge of the bayou, you’d only run into five or ten at a time, but the closer you got to their landing site, the larger the swarms you’d encounter. On a solo scouting mission, Dan had seen clusters of 200-plus Orakh, and he didn’t even make it that close to their main base. Worse, those groups were led by much larger and stronger variants of the Orakh that he hadn’t encountered yet.

  In short, they were going in blind. Planes doing flyovers confirmed that there were “a helluva a lotta toads,” but beyond that, they had no idea as to the enemy’s numbers, composition and location. Due to potential logistical concerns regarding ammunition, all of the recruits were taught how to use melee weapons. Most of them had some knowledge of street fighting or brawling, and one or two practiced an actual martial art. They were given enchanted weapons to complement their skillsets, usually a knife or stiletto.

  Regardless of their skill, all new soldiers were given enchanted axes with reinforced hafts and blades. Without the reinforcement, the powered armor’s enhanced strength would cause the weapons to shatter and their blades to deform after only a handful of blows. Hopefully, the axes would be a weapon of last resort, but if their team did have to rely on them, Dan wanted them to last.

  The actual journey to the bayou was a strange affair. Half of the troops were just folks from the city, recently laid off or looking for some adventure. They’d been given AR-15s, about two weeks of training, and had been dubbed militia. Dan didn’t have any faith that they’d hold when the New Orleans Army, as it had taken to referring to itself, came into contact with the enemy. The militia spent the drive joking and sharing snacks. A couple of them even tried to shoot nearby wildlife from the back of the pickup trucks and school buses they were being transported in.

  The actual professional soldiers and police forces, on the other hand, were fairly grim. They’d been out to the bayou, albeit much closer to the city than Dan and his team. The national guard forces were especially upset that they would have to abandon their armored vehicles at the edge of the swamp. They knew at least some of what they were in for, and they weren’t excited.

  When they arrived, they were greeted by an engineering unit that had been on site for almost the entire week, putting together a motley collection of rafts, pontoon bridges, and boats. The plan was for the New Orleans Army to advance as a rough line, periodically checking in with each other via walkie talkie to ensure that no unit got dramatically ahead of another. Dan’s group would be taking a spot in the center of the order, where combat was expected to be the thickest. Behind them, reserves from the militia would be moving forward at a more measured pace via the pontoon bridges.

  Dan wasn’t sure how much he liked the idea of using the militia as reserves. He’d worked with the guard and police units in the past and respected them. They might be in over their heads, but they knew how to keep their cool and work as a unit. He figured that the militia units were about as likely to run or panic and shoot his team in the back as actually fight the Orakh.

  Admittedly, an AR-15 shot to the back wouldn’t do much more than scuff the paint on their suits and annoy Dan’s group, but at the same time, those sorts of distractions could cost them in the heat of combat.

  The only good news was that the 122nd Air National Guard Squadron would be able to support them. William, Abe, and Jennifer all seemed to agree that the F-15Cs wouldn’t be the most helpful. Apparently, the jets were optimized for air to air combat and had minimal air to ground capabilities. Unfortunately, the bombers at Barksdale Airforce Base were sitting the battle out after receiving conflicting orders from the Governor and a smattering of federal representatives. They had observers working with the 122nd to see how things went, but Dan wouldn’t be able to rely on a B-52 to pull him and his team out of trouble if things went awry.

  With a sigh, he opened the door to the semi they’d requisitioned fo
r the ride out. He scrambled down, tuning out the tumult of voices and accents. The militia bragged and chatted about local sports teams while the professional soldiers were much quieter, only occasionally asking questions of their superiors about the supply chain. Dan grimaced slightly, sharing their concerns. The militia was supposed to be handling the supply chain, admittedly a better idea than actually throwing them into combat, and Dan wasn’t entirely sure how well that would work out for everyone.

  Regardless, his team had their own pair of boats, laden heavy with ammunition and fuel for the resource-intensive powered armor. Two of their more nautically inclined recruits would be piloting the boats while another two manned the .50 caliber machine guns welded to them. Remy Bushear, the team’s new resident alligator hunter/poacher and all-around bayou expert simply looked at them and grunted, “too heavy.” The hope was that the powered armor could be used to pick up or drag the boats over shallow areas of the swamp.

  A couple of the locals approached, whistling and admiring the powered armor as they loaded it off the back of the truck. Sam was already quietly opening each of the back clamshells on the carapaces on the twenty-two suits so that their pilots could climb in. Dan frowned slightly as the new recruits shot the breeze with the other units, obviously bragging about their new rides. He didn’t mind a little fun here and there, but the entire engagement seemed to have taken on a carnival air for too many of the soldiers.

  “Ready to watch them pop their cherries?”

  Dan jumped as Jennifer’s hand came down hard on his shoulder.

  “If we had more time, we’d beat it out of them, but we needed numbers, so their training had to be accelerated. At the end of this, they’ll be soldiers or corpses. Not a whole lot in between out in that meat grinder.” She flicked her head toward the waiting swamp.

  “I just don’t like to see them goofing off like this.” He pursed his lips, taking in the bawdy jokes being swapped between his troops and the militia. “They haven’t even fought yet, and already they’re bragging about how many Orakh they’re going to bag. It just doesn’t seem right.”

  “Let ‘em.” Abe joined into the conversation from fifteen feet away where he checked over his armor. He was wearing the tight polymer catsuit used by the suits’ pilots. It made him look ridiculous, like he was wearing a full body speedo. “Before something like this, you’re either nervous or an idiot. Either way, they’re gonna need to brag and tell jokes. We’ll have a better idea of which category they fit into on the other side.”

  Before Dan could reply, the walkie talkie he carried crackled.

  “Thrush, you read me, over?” A man’s voice asked, slightly marred by the static of the finicky device.

  “This is Thrush,” he replied. “Who am I speaking to, over?”

  “Major Champlain with General Richard’s staff,” the man answered. “Captain Anderson and I will be in charge of coordination and communication throughout the offensive. Keep your walkie talkie fixed to this channel, and somebody will pick you up on the switchboard if you make a request or a report, over.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Dan responded. “What’s the time table? My team will be ready to go in about twenty to thirty minutes, but I don’t want them in their suits until we’re ready to move out. Otherwise, they’re just going to be sitting around wasting fuel, over.”

  “We don’t want to keep anyone waiting too long.” Champlain chuckled, his voice scratchy through the walkie talkie. “The militia are liable to get bored and crack open a couple beers or start a barbeque if we don’t put them to work. Right now, the plan is one hour and ten minutes. We still need to get the artillery and command and control set up before we send you into that mess, over.”

  “Understood, over,” Dan made eye contact with Jennifer and Abe.

  “I’ll talk to the boys and get them ready,” Abe supplied, nodding to Dan as he walked past him toward the rest of the unit.

  “ALL RIGHT YOU DICKLESS WASTES OF CARBON!” Abe immediately began shouting at the recruits, interrupting their bravado-laden yarns. “WE HAVE ONE HOUR UNTIL WE HIT THE WATER, AND THAT MEANS I NEED EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU TO DOUBLE CHECK EVERY SYSTEM ON YOUR SUITS AND ENSURE A FULL LOADOUT. A SINGLE SUBSYSTEM INSTALLED INCORRECTLY OR ONE RUNE OUT OF PLACE COULD BE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU BEING RICH OR ORAKH FOOD.”

  Dan winced slightly, turning back to Jennifer. “I really think he enjoys that too much,” he said dryly.

  “He really has let a load off since we met him in the Jungle,” she shrugged. “I think replacing all of the military’s red tape with you, someone who actually listens, really helped his mood.”

  “It only made your Dad more cranky.” The corner of Dan’s mouth quirked up into a half-smile.

  “Dad was always cranky.” Jennifer rolled her eyes, turning away from him to walk toward the boat launch located at the edge of the swamp. “I’m pretty sure he was the red tape that Abe needed to get away from. Now, check out the boats with me. We don’t want to get halfway out into the bayou only to find out that one of the locals siphoned our gas to run a grill or something.”

  Dan chuckled, following her to the waiting vessels.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Raid (II)

  The steady chatter of machine gun fire drowned out the usual sounds of the swamp. Both of the .50 calibers mounted on their landing craft’s prows swept back and forth across the island, trying to clear enough space of the Orakh for the rest of the team to disembark. Occasionally, the staccato thump of a suit’s arm-mounted fifty caliber repeater marked one of the soldiers gunning down a submerged opponent before they could board a boat.

  More than anything, the swimming Orakh were what worried Dan. Filling the boats with heavy battle armor made them ride much lower in the water than he’d like. Even though the Orakh wouldn’t have anything to push off of, enough of them could potentially capsize one of the vessels, spilling all of them into the water.

  It wouldn’t be catastrophic. The suits were airtight and waterproof after all, but it wouldn’t be great. The Orakh were optimized to fight in the water, their webbed limbs giving them a strange sort of fluid grace that they lacked on land. Worse, the murky water robbed most firearms of their effectiveness after a couple feet. Clearing the bayou was daunting enough without having to fight their seemingly endless enemies where they held the advantage.

  Dan’s mouth settled into a grim line as he took in the fairly constant stream of Orakh swarming over the island. If this kept up, running out of ammunition was a certainty. Their team didn’t even know how much farther they had to go; aerial reports only came back with vague reports, such as, “you’re a bit over halfway.”

  “System,” he said softly, not wanting to distract the others. “Send a message to Group ‘Battlegroup.’ Text ‘stop firing at the island on a five count.’ Include a five-second timer.”

  With a musical ding, the message was sent. Many of the soldiers either flinched or stopped what they were doing for a second as they processed it. Dan shook his head. Once this was over, he would need to find someplace isolated and drill them. Their lack of discipline and training was more than a little worrying.

  At precisely five seconds, Dan mentally crossed his fingers that his team could follow a simple order and activated Gravitational Easing. Then, with a pulse of mana to his strength runes, he jumped. Behind him, the boat rocked from him kicking off, but Dan didn’t have an opportunity to truly worry.

  In the air above the Orakh, he flung a Fireball into their midst, activating his spellshield as he landed. The heat from the explosion washed over him. Just outside the Fireball’s impact crater, Orakh kept charging. Dan flowed forward, slipping between their clumsy attacks and removing limbs with the nonchalance of an arborist pruning a tree.

  Behind him, both ships used the gap he’d created to land on the island, disgorging their soldiers in a matter of seconds. Quickly, Jennifer slipped next to him and began her own dance through the enemy forces. Without speaking, they fell into an easy rhythm, quickly clearing their area of the island while Dan periodically dropped spells on any cluster of Orakh that looked likely to overwhelm anyone else from the team.