Shadow Fall (The Shadow Saga) (24 page)

The man paused before saying calmly, “Go on.”

“Doctor Samuel Ryder, a member of General Crenshaw’s intelligence cell, succeeded in downloading all of the World System’s research data before the Weapons Manufacturing Facility was destroyed. One of the items that should have been confined to that list somehow ended up operational on an Imperial ship.”

The other man paused again, “And you’re wondering, I suppose, if I gave the technology to the Ruling Council to help them stage their coup.”

“It had crossed my mind, sir.”

“And would it anger you if I did?”

“I would be curious to know your reasoning. Sullivan is no more to be trusted than Napoleon Alexander, and taking sides in the civil war may distract us from our true goal.”

“And what goal is that?”

“The liberation of the world,” the Right Hand replied emphatically. “The restoration of all we once held dear.”

“That is one goal,” the man said. “One of many, not all of which can be achieved. Anger you though it may, I confess I did give the order to allow the Ruling Council to acquire Fusiosphere technology. I believed it might offer us the chance to forgo this civil war, and despite what you say I would choose Sullivan over Alexander without question. However, I didn’t count on Specter flying in to save the day.”

“But what of the plan? What of the Shadow Soldier? If the World System falls the last fifteen years will have been for nothing!”

“One must always be ready for the bend in the road,” the man said. “We have played a good game, my friend. But the Ruling Council’s coup came earlier than expected, and that has changed the board. We must adapt if we are to survive.”

“But to abandon the plan after so many men of Silent Thunder have given their lives in preparation for Shadow Fall? How can you even think of abandoning them now?”

“The chances of Shadow Fall’s success are nearly gone. Despite the best efforts of General Crenshaw, 301-14-A remains firmly entrenched in his loyalty to the World System. We cannot hide the Charity child’s survival forever, and we cannot allow Alexander to use him against us. I have…contingencies…that I have set in motion.”

The Right Hand regarded his superior with incredulity, “So you’re just giving up? Are we to send him off to rot in some prison on Domination Crisis Eleven?”

The man laughed, “Of course not. What a waste that would be. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“This conversation has proven I don’t know anything about you, not really,” the Right Hand replied. “In all these years, you’ve not once revealed yourself to me.”

“You don’t need to see a man’s face to know his heart,” the man said. “We have been at this for a long time now, my friend. You were my first recruit, and without you none of this would have been possible. It is to your credit that few even know I exist. If it is a concern for my trust that you express, you can set that aside. I do not reveal myself to you for the same reason you did not reveal yourself to Jacob Sawyer, or Ellis Crenshaw. There is a history behind this face that might prove difficult to overcome, and we do not have time to spare for
me
to gain
your
trust. There will come a day when you will know me, but for now I must ask that you wait a little longer.”

The Right Hand paused, hesitant to agree for the first time since all this had been set in motion. So many hopes and dreams…how twisted that it could rise or fall on the conversation of two men. “I need assurances…about the Shadow Soldier.”

Shifting more weight to his staff, the man sighed and turned his head toward the ground. The Right Hand imagined that if he could see his superior’s face, it would be one filled with consternation and regret. “When all of this began I was blinded by vengeance, determined to exact a pound of flesh from the MWR no matter what the cost. So when that cost had to be paid not by me, but by another, I did not hesitate. I used him as my pawn, and in the process stole his spirit. I took away his free will. Yes, I set him on a path to a great destiny, but I cheapened it by robbing him of the chance to choose for himself. Over the years I have done many wretched things, but this…this haunts me the most. I will undo this mistake, my friend, to whatever extent I am able.”

“But how is this any different? Forcibly removing him to another location and not giving him a choice in the matter at all?”

“Sooner or later Alexander will find out the truth. At least this way, he will have time—time to decide whether he wants to embrace his heritage, or become something else.”

“I have seen the greatness in him, sir. He could be every ounce the leader that his father was, I have no doubt.”

“You’ve grown to care for the boy, I see. He represents a link to better times…friends long past.”

The Right Hand gave a slow and nearly imperceptible nod, “Yes.”

“Great leaders are not normally those who have had their lives handed to them…they are the ones who rise from the ashes of great fires—disaster, failure, tragedy—and from that point of utter destruction forge themselves anew. Before a hero can rise, sometimes he first must fall.”

“Is there no other way?”

His superior sighed, “My contingency might still be prevented, but I will not call them off. Your only chance would be to complete Shadow Fall before the extraction team arrives.”

“How long do I have?”

“Two days, three at most. But I would caution you not to do anything foolish. I have seen that same look in the eyes of many men when they decide to sacrifice themselves for some perceived greater good.”

“Some things are worth dying for.”

“A fragmenting strategy is not one of those things. We need you.”

“I wouldn’t die for the strategy,” the Right Hand replied. “But for the man…that is different.”

“Just be careful, my friend. It is not just for the sake of the resistance that I wouldn’t want to lose you.”

“Thank you, sir,” the Right Hand nodded. “Serving with you has been a great honor, and the chance at redemption you have offered—it is worth more than any other payment you could have given.”

The man stepped forward to shake his hand, “The honor has been mine.”

“If I succeed, you must be ready to do the rest.”

His superior stepped back and leaned on the staff once again, “I swear it. Good luck to you, friend. I hope our paths cross again.”

The Right Hand bowed his head respectfully, “Until then I say farewell, Benefactor.”

The Benefactor returned the bow, “Farewell.”

19

L
IZ COVERED HER NOSE
as she followed two Imperial Guardsman into the darkest part of the Division Nine prison, making her best attempt to block the stench of death and decay that hung on the air. Cries of every kind echoed at her from all directions as she made her way down the stone tunnel, and some were brave enough to reach out for her with dirty hands. Those were rewarded with blows from the two guardsman. Some were desperate, some were lustful, and some demanded freedom and justice, as the prison held all manner of the World System’s undesirables and didn’t bother to separate them according to their crimes. Such as it was, murderers and rapists shared cells with freedom fighters and protesters. She wondered if a few of the latter group wouldn’t agree to serve the Imperial Conglomerate just to taste fresh air again.

Crude torchlight provided the only illumination, and as they passed the first line of cells the convulsing figures became little more than shadows playing across the walls. Liz couldn’t help but feel out of place in the archaic atmosphere, having donned her pristine white uniform. She had pulled her hair up into a bun to give herself a more severe look, but that didn’t change the way it shone like gold in the torchlight. She doubted there was a man in the dungeon who wouldn’t remember the sight of her, and the thought made her skin crawl.

“Was there no way to run electricity down here?” Liz asked, trying to distract herself from all those prying eyes.

“Of course, Chief, but what would be the point?” one of the guardsmen replied. “This is where they send people to die a slow death. Disconnecting them from the civilized world adds to the despair and speeds that process, if only a little.”

“I see,” she said wryly. “How merciful. Are we nearly there?”

“The prisoner you seek is down another floor, in solitary confinement. We have to walk through this level to get there, as an added security measure.”

“Understandable, I suppose. Well, lead on.”

Liz had spent most of the time since her arrival in Rome poring over the records that the Ruling Council had stolen from the World System, looking for anything that might help with her plan to make a connection with the rebellion. The man she was on her way to see was one she had discovered very early in her search, but he was the last one she wanted to ask. Unfortunately, despite her extensive research Liz was unable to find a better candidate for the job—if she could sell it to Sullivan.

As they descended into the lowest level of the dungeon Liz asked, “Who ordered him to be kept in solitary?”

“That order came from Grand Admiral Donalson, Chief. He wanted to take every precaution to prevent the prisoner’s escape, especially during the purge of Rome. Donalson believed he still had a decent-sized force in the city, biding their time for an opportunity to break their leader out of prison.”

“But no such attempt was made.”

“No ma’am. No one outside the grand admiral, the division leader, and the guards of this facility even know he is still alive. Which is why I was so surprised when you asked to see him.”

“There’s always a paper trail, Sergeant,” Liz smiled. “I just happened to find it.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs and entered into a quiet corridor, also lit only by torches, but cleaner and more presentable than the squalor she had just seen above. The stone walls seemed old...much older than if the World System had constructed the dungeon. As they strode down the corridor, three sets of boots echoing with every step, Liz saw a single cell come into view at the very end. There was nothing to the right or the left but the ancient stone, as if the hall had been built only to house this prison cell.

A man stood at the bars, elbows resting on the crossbeam as he watched their approach through a disheveled length of hair. Between the hair and the shadows cast by the bars, Liz couldn’t see the man’s face even when they came to a stop just a few feet from his cell.

“You have a visitor,” one of the guardsmen announced.

“Thank you,” he spoke in a smooth, albeit sarcastic, voice. “I can see that.”

“Then stand up straight, you rebel traitor!” The other guardsman commanded. “Show some respect for the Chief of Command!”

“Chief of Command,” the man chuckled. “Now that’s a position I’ve not heard of before. I didn’t know they were hiring blonde bombshells to march around in white uniforms, either. If this is the direction the Great Army is going, then sign me up.”

The first guardsman raised his baton as if to strike, but Liz stopped him with an upraised hand, “Thank you, gentlemen, that will be all. I would like to speak with the prisoner alone.”

Both gave her an incredulous look, but she did not relent. She couldn’t allow them to listen in on the conversation she was about to have with this man. They hesitated for only a moment before bowing their heads respectfully and then making their way back up the corridor. Liz waited until she heard the echo of the door closing at the top of the stairs, and turned to find the prisoner staring at her with a smile, his hair finally pulled back out of his face.

She paused upon sight of him, and was momentarily speechless.
He is remarkably good-looking
, she thought,
despite how filthy he is
. He smiled at her with perfect white teeth, and she understood in an instant why he had been able to amass such a large following so quickly. He was the kind of leader people longed to follow: charming, handsome, and arrogant enough to believe he could do the impossible.

“I don’t know what this is about,” he grinned. “But if you’re here to have a little fun, I’m all yours darling.” He gave her a lustful look up and down, and she rolled her eyes.

“Charles Aurelius Justus,” Liz shook her head. “I wonder what your followers in the Roman rebellion would say if they saw how far you have fallen.”

His expression darkened, “Is this how you think to turn me on, by insulting me?”

“Let’s get something straight,” she took on her commanding tone. “The fact that you think a woman like me would need to come to a dungeon to be pleasured by a lowlife such as yourself tells me that you don’t know as much about women as you think you do.”

“Apologies, my lady,” he said. “It’s just that I’m used to seeing men in dark green, not beautiful young women in white. I merely assumed it some sort of ceremony. And perhaps it was a bit of wishful thinking on my part. I have been in here for quite some time, deprived of certain comforts...”

“Much has changed since your incarceration, Justus,” Liz explained. “The World System no longer rules this hemisphere.”

The deposed rebel leader’s eyes went wide, “You mean they were defeated? By whom?”