Infiltration (27 page)

Every inch of every wall was lined with gun racks and weapons lockers. The gun racks themselves held a wild assortment of weapons, from assault rifles to submachine guns and more. The weapons lockers contained similar items, as well as several advanced weapons I couldn’t even name.

The middle of the room was filled with several rows of shelving, and contained everything from ammo to gun cases to explosives like grenades.

All in all, it was a formidable amount of firepower. Although the Alpha League went up against armed foes all the time, I suddenly felt a lot better about my decision to destroy all this stuff before I skedaddled.

Usually when it came to weapons in the hands of bad guys, my
modus operandi
was to simply teleport the offending item to a secure location. In this instance, however, I didn’t just want to disarm the White Wyrm and his ilk; I wanted to sow confusion — get them disorganized if I could — and few things were as good at creating chaos as explosions. Thus, my plan was to actually blow up each armory.

That being the case, I went to work at super speed, dumping all of the weapons into a couple of piles on the floor as quickly and quietly as I could. The only exception to this was a grenade belt that I, on a whim, picked up and slung over my shoulder after stocking it with both traditional grenades and those of the smoke bomb variety.

I was just about finished when the door to the armory was flung open and Imo stepped in. I thought I’d been as quiet as a mouse, but whether he’d heard something or been guided by simple intuition, Imo came into the room in battle mode — mace in hand and looking for a dance partner.

Still at super speed, I pulled a pin from a grenade and flung it in his direction. It struck him in the mid-section, but at that velocity, it was like being hit with a cruise missile. Imo was lifted off his feet, dropping his mace in the process, and carried down the hallway by the grenade, which was still buried deep in his gut like a fist.

I zipped over and picked up the mace. It was lighter than I had anticipated, but still felt solid enough to do an impressive amount of damage. I slammed the door to the armory just as Imo hit the floor of the hallway. A second later, the building shook with the sounds of an explosion as the grenade went off, and several of the weapons slid off the piles that I had stacked them in.

A moment later, I had pulled the pins on about forty grenades, tossed them into the various weapons piles, and then dashed out of the room and down the hallway. Along the way I passed Imo, who was still lying on the hallway floor. He was unconscious and his clothing was in tatters, but beyond that he didn’t appear to be injured too seriously — despite the fact that the grenade blast had splintered the walls nearby and caused part of the ceiling to collapse on top of him.

The sound of voices and the distinct rhythmic patter of running feet made me realize that people were coming. I glanced back at the armory, where the grenades should be going off any second, and then took off running for the second armory, not caring anymore if anyone realized a speedster was present. A moment later, I was rewarded with a series of deep, rumbling explosions that sent tremors throughout the building.

Chapter 33

Initially, I had almost no trouble with the second armory, which was designed almost exactly like the first. Although it, too, had a hulking guard manning the entrance, I simply phased inside while invisible. Within a few seconds, I had all the weapons piled on the floor as before. I had just pulled the pins on a bunch of hand grenades when the door flew open and a whirlwind blew in, followed by the fellow who had been standing guard outside. A strong wind whipped around the room, and a moment later all of the pins were back in the grenades.

I didn’t realize what had happened at first, but then it hit me: a speedster had come into the room and put all of the grenade pins back in place. I glanced around the room, and saw him — a young guy, barely out of his teens, and so hyper that he couldn’t stand still (as evidenced by the fact that he kept zipping from side to side).

I teleported him, along with the guard who had come into the room with him, to the Great Hall (which, for some reason, was the first place I thought of). Then I went into super speed again and once more removed all the pins from the grenades. I was about to take off when the speedster I had just banished dashed back into the room and once again put all the pins back into the grenades.

Of course — he was a speedster. Teleporting him to another part of the castle had only delayed him slightly as it took him practically no time at all to return to the second armory. (Obviously it would take the door guard longer, since he apparently didn’t possess the same speed.)

Disgusted, I removed all the grenade pins a third time and flung them towards the door. Lightning quick, the other speedster dashed over and nimbly plucked them out of the air one by one, and then put them back into the grenades once more.

I had to admit that he was good, but I was getting a little tired of him wrecking my plans. On his part, the speedster just looked at me, waiting. He gave me a cocksure grin, letting me know that this was fun for him. Other than that, though, he didn’t make any type of aggressive move. What was he waiting on? Why wasn’t he trying to go on the offensive?

Then it hit me: he was stalling. He was just keeping me occupied until reinforcements could arrive. Thus, I couldn’t waste any more time on this guy. I needed a plan, and needed it quick. There had to be a way to turn the tables on this speedster.

The solution came to me a moment later. I smiled as I zipped around pulling out grenade pins again, hopefully for the last time (at least in
this
room). Like clockwork, the other speedster followed up almost as soon as I was done. However, as soon as he picked up a pin and tried to put it back into a grenade, I turned the latter invisible.

He froze momentarily, clearly unsure of what was happening. Obviously, he could feel the grenade in his hand, but he couldn’t see it. More precisely, he couldn’t see the hole that the pin was supposed to go in. He struggled mightily for a few moments, wasting valuable time, trying to locate the hole by feel. Then he dropped the grenade and reached for another. I made that one invisible as well.

When he couldn’t find the pinhole on the second grenade, I saw panic start to set in. In real time it had only been a few seconds, but it was long enough for the other speedster to realize that this was a lost cause. He turned and dashed from the room, and I left hot on his heels.

A moment later, the armory exploded behind us. The other speedster decided to glance over his shoulder to get a peek at the devastation. As he did so, I tossed Imo’s mace, which I was still carrying, at his ankles. It tripped him up nicely; he fell forward, his head hitting the floor with an audible smack, and then went tumbling down the hallway like a rodeo clown tossed by a steer.

I scooped up the mace, and then stopped to stare at the other speedster after he stopped skidding. He’d definitely had his ticket punched. Not only was he knocked out, but the ankle that the mace had hit seemed to be bent at an odd angle. Looking at that ankle and the discoloration that was starting to form around it, I had an odd feeling that, even if he had been conscious, this guy wouldn’t be giving me any more trouble today.

Chapter 34

They were waiting for me at the last armory, which had the same layout as its predecessors. I should have known something unusual was going on; there was no guard posted outside. Invisible, I phased through the door, and found the room on the other side not just full of weapons, but also containing Diabolist Mage, the White Wyrm, Retread Fred, and Gorgon Son. The four of them were standing together on the far side of the room, in a corner near a weapons locker.

“—ic!” Diabolist Mage was saying. “I’ve got the power now!”

“You’ve got the power,” the White Wyrm retorted, “but no control. Heeding your advice would lead to ruin.”

“But—” the Diabolist began.

“Silence!” the White Wyrm exclaimed. “We will speak of this later. Right now, we have an uninvited guest to deal with.” The White Wyrm looked knowingly around the room. “In fact, you’re here now, aren’t you?”

I had to admit to being surprised. It was pretty obvious that he couldn’t sense me by any normal means, but the White Wyrm obviously had either some other power that let him detect my presence, or a well-developed sense of intuition.

“Come, come,” he continued. “There’s no need to be shy. We’re all friends here.”

I floated up to one corner near the ceiling and said, “With” — I teleported to another corner — “friends” — I teleported to a third corner — “like” — I teleported to the last corner of the room — “these…”

Speaking in an unbroken string as I popped around the room had made it seem as though my voice was coming from all around them, and the eyes of all four had darted around, trying to pinpoint my location. When I finished, the White Wyrm laughed.

“Ah, a teleporter,” he said, eyes roaming around the ceiling. “My envy on having such a unique skill.”

Again, I marveled at how he had discerned that I was a teleporter without being able to see me. If this was merely intuition on his part, it bordered on psychic ability.

“By now, you know something of our plans,” he said. “And you know that no one can stop us.”

“Really?” I said sarcastically, popping around the room again as I spoke. “I’ve been able to gum up the works without even trying too hard. I can only imagine what will happen when someone like the Alpha League decides to swat you flies.”

“So you’re with the Alpha League,” the White Wyrm said. “Good to know.”

My mouth almost fell open. I needed to shut up. Every time I spoke, the White Wyrm deduced some fact that I hadn’t intended to divulge. I wanted to scream, but with my luck, the White Wyrm would glean something from that, too.

“Ha!” I exclaimed, trying to cover. “The Alpha League wouldn’t get out of bed for this mad tea party you’ve got going on. They only deal with
real
threats.”

“But would I be correct in assuming that it was you who planted that bug that led them to our assault team?”

I didn’t say anything, but my silence was practically confirmation in itself.

“Be that as it may,” the White Wyrm continued, “it occurs to me that we might be able to make a deal. I’d like to extend an offer to you.”

“What kind of offer?” I asked. Whatever it was, the answer was going to be “No,” but I was curious as to what he had to say.

“Please,” the White Wyrm said, “I prefer to have these kinds of dealings face-to-face. Right now I feel as though I’m conversing with the ether.”

It was undoubtedly a trick, but I was confident that I could handle anything that was thrown at me. I floated down to the floor in a corner that was adjacent to where my four adversaries were standing and became visible. Four pairs of eyes swiveled in my direction.

Diabolist Mage looked at me in unadulterated surprise. “Proteus?”

I winked at the Diabolist and smiled, but didn’t verbally respond. I had effectively been viewed as Proteus since coming here, but that ruse was now over. Openly angry at having been duped, the Diabolist hissed at me and Gorgon Son made as if to move in my direction, but the White Wyrm stepped to the fore and held his hands out to his side.

“No,” he said firmly over his shoulder, effectively guaranteeing my safety — for the moment.

“I’m listening,” I said.

“You,” the White Wyrm began, “have come here uninvited, infiltrated our group, sown dissension in our ranks, made us abort parts of our plan, destroyed our armories, and — in the process — caused untold damage to my ancestral home. In short, you have caused us no end of grief since your arrival.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

“Still,” the White Wyrm went on, “I think we could use your unique talents, and I’d like to make a place for you in our upper echelons.”

“And why would you want to do that?”

“No leader, no matter how great, can do everything himself. He needs lieutenants to help him. To carry some of the load. To address the minutiae so he can concentrate on the things that matter.”

“And in your opinion, I fit the bill?”

“Why not? You’re extremely gifted, resourceful, intelligent, and bold. I can make use of those talents.”

“That sounds like a windfall for you, Your Majesty, but what’s in it for me?”

“For you? Why… No!”

In focusing on my conversation with the White Wyrm, I had made the mistake of ignoring Diabolist Mage to a certain extent, and he had been slowly tilting his staff until it was pointed almost directly at me. Warned by the White Wyrm’s shout, I phased as a beam of light shot out from the head of the staff. It passed harmlessly through me, but burned a hole through a gun rack that had been behind me, as well as the assault weapons that it held and the wall it was affixed to. I turned invisible and teleported to an upper corner of the room.

The White Wyrm turned and smacked Diabolist Mage with a vicious backhand that sent the magician sprawling.

“I specifically forbade any attack!” the White Wyrm shouted. “You would do well to obey your master!”