Shadow Fall (The Shadow Saga) (47 page)

“So,” Alexander went on. “What to do with you until your sentence is carried out…” He rubbed his wounded cheek thoughtfully. “Any suggestions, Grand Admiral?”

Donalson said nothing, but flashed a malevolent smile. Grace remembered him now, though it did not bring her comfort to know who he was. The grand admiral—the man who was responsible for all those burning buildings and all the innocent dead—a monster who now set his greedy eyes upon her.

“I know,” the MWR said. “Perhaps I’ll allow the grand admiral to spend a little quality time with you. He was the one who found you in that slave’s cell and bought you for the Specter Captain, after all. I know how disappointed he was not to have you then. Now that those circumstances are out of the way—”

“What’s wrong, Alexander?” Grace asked. “Afraid I’ll give you a matching set of scars on the other side of your face?”

The MWR scowled, “You have already incited my anger enough, my dear. I wouldn’t advise pushing me any further.”

“We are all but dust,” she said. “And to dust we shall return.”

Alexander struck her again, “
Do not
speak those words to me! They are the echoes of fools—shadows from a distant past, memories long forgotten.”

“None of us can escape death,” she went on, face burning from Alexander’s repeated blows. “You may send me on ahead, but one day you will follow. There will be no World System there, no Great Army or royal palace for you to hide behind. You will be tried and judged, and somehow I doubt even a single soul will plead for your mercy.”

“There is no such thing as an eternal soul,” Alexander sneered. “Something I shall teach you through fire and pain. You will be vanquished, and my name will be the one that lives on in immortality. That’s the thing about becoming a hero, Miss Sawyer. You put everything on the line for a cause greater than yourself and end up as nothing more than a martyr. Where will God be when I force your little rebellion into retirement tonight? Will he interfere? I think not. Not because he won’t or can’t…but because your prayers will only be heard by the wind. And to think, all the things you might have done differently.” He stroked her cheek and smiled when she recoiled from him, “What a waste.”

He turned his back on her and walked around to the other side of his desk, “With your very public, very brutal death, I should seal the defeat of Silent Thunder for good. Then I can turn my attention to more significant matters. Still, there’s no reason we should all be at a
total
loss. Grand Admiral, escort this traitor to the dungeons. Whatever liberties you wish to take with her along the way are no concern of mine. Leave me.”

Donalson stood, “With pleasure, sir.” He grabbed Grace roughly by the arm and led her out of the MWR’s presence. She didn’t struggle, glad to have escaped Alexander’s advances. Now she had the grand admiral to deal with, but she would always choose one enemy over two.

The first empty hallway they found, Donalson pushed her up against the wall aggressively. His face came within inches of hers, and she saw again the hunger in his eyes. Yet she noted something there that she did not expect: the hunger was not lust. It was more like curiosity.

“Be careful, Grand Admiral,” she warned. “You saw what I did to Alexander.”

“No help from the old man this time,” Donalson said. “You won’t be getting out of
those
bindings. I won’t lie to you, girl: the MWR was right to say that I wanted you when I bought you from that slaver. You probably didn’t even see me that night, but I saw you, and had never hated the Specter Captain more than in the moment when Alexander gave you away to be his forever. Still, I’m a man who can appreciate the value of a trade.”

“What kind of trade?”

He moved in closer and whispered in her ear, “I will see you safely to the dungeons—untouched—for a bit of information.”

“What do you want?”

“The MWR believes that your death, coupled with that of your father, will be enough to scare your friends into submission. I, however, disagree. There is a rumor that has reached my ear, of a man who by all accounts should be dead…a man who, if he
did
survive, would be a much greater threat than you or your father ever were.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Donalson’s hand came up to her neck and he pushed her harder against the wall, “Then let me make it clearer for you, Sawyer.
Where
is Elijah Charity?”

A choked gasp escaped from Grace’s partially closed windpipe, and she immediately wished she could take it back. Donalson’s eyes widened as he watched her, and his grip tightened to where she could scarcely breathe at all. “So it
is
true. Nothing could have convinced me more than the look on your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Don’t even try,” Donalson whispered. “Just tell me where he is.”

“He was killed by the System,” she rasped. “Years ago.”

“The System never found
him,” Donalson replied. “Don’t play games with me little girl! You know something, and you’re going to tell me!”

Grace’s body trembled from lack of air as she pushed out words with difficulty, “I have nothing to say to you.”

Donalson stressed every syllable, “Is...he...alive?”

“I’ll never tell you, Donalson.
Never
. You’ll just have to kill me.”

The grand admiral bared his teeth in anger and got so close his nose nearly grazed hers, “Then consider our bargain at an end.” His knuckles whitened around her throat as he squeezed harder, and Grace knew that he lacked only a little pressure to end her life. But just as the world grew hazy someone grabbed the grand admiral by the shoulders and pulled him away from her, slamming him hard against the opposite wall. She didn’t even have to see his face to know who had saved her.

It was 301.

-X-

301 slammed his fist into Grand Admiral Donalson’s face for the third time before the man came out of his shock and tried to fend him off. By that time 301 had already beaten him bloody, splitting his lip in two places and quite possibly breaking his nose. Only the sound of Grace’s choked gasps stopped him from killing the man, as he turned to check on her. The grand admiral’s handprint shone clearly on her skin, and she coughed uncontrollably as her lungs sucked in as much air as they could get. Despite that, she would be alright.

He turned back the grand admiral as the man struggled to rise but couldn’t manage it, sliding back down the wall into a pitiful heap. 301’s rage was not sated, however, and he might have resumed the beating had a Great Army officer not rounded the corner that very instant. He looked at the three of them in turn, and 301 could see him cursing his luck as soon as he recognized their ranks.

“Corporal,” Donalson said, blood pouring from his nose. “Shoot this traitor where he stands!”

301 turned on the corporal with an intimidating stare, “You know who I am, soldier?”

“Yes, Specter Captain.”

“Good,” 301 said. “I want you to look at what I have done to the grand admiral. Go, on, look.” The corporal was hesitant, but he complied. He grimaced at the murderous look on Donalson’s face, but still made no move to obey his orders. “If I would do something like this to the grand admiral of the World System, Corporal, what do you think I would do to you?”

The soldier’s eyes widened in fear, “Sir, I—what should I—?”

“Take this prisoner to the dungeons,” 301 said, indicating Grace. “See that she arrives there safely and that no one interferes. Do this for me and I will forget your presence here.”

“Yes, sir,” the corporal said, and Donalson muttered some unintelligible curse under his breath. “Of course, sir.” The soldier helped Grace to her feet and led her away. A quick glance in her direction was all 301 dared to steal, for he could not afford to have suspicions grow any further than they already had. Everything depended on him remaining in the full power and honor of his station.

He breathed a sigh of relief as she rounded the corner and left his sight.

Donalson spat blood on the red velvet carpet and braced himself against the wall as he rose on unsteady legs. “I see your mentor’s taint has trickled down into you as well. I expected no less.”

301’s eyes narrowed in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Your precious admiral, the man who brought Specter back from the grave,” Donalson said with an evil sneer. “It would seem he has been playing both sides all along.”

301 grimaced and shook his head, disbelieving. McCall, working with the rebellion? It didn’t seem possible. He had immense respect for the old man, but couldn’t imagine he would have been able to fool so many for so long. But if he was an agent of the rebellion, 301 certainly could use another sword at his side.

“Where is he?”

“The morgue,” Donalson replied. “Or at least, whatever passes for a morgue in the palace. He tried to kill the MWR, so I put a bullet in his back. There is no honor accorded to traitors.”

301 was speechless. It couldn’t be true… McCall had been his mentor, the only commanding officer he could say he had any respect for at all. Countless times the old man had covered for him, and he had always sheltered the team from the treacherous waters of politics within the hierarchy. If he was dead, then that shelter was gone.

Donalson wiped some of the blood from his face and continued with disdain, “No matter what the MWR says, I am convinced you have been infected with the same poison that infected McCall. From here on out, Specter Captain, you had better keep a careful watch over your shoulder.”

301 stepped up to him and whispered, “Just make sure whoever you send after me is expendable, Grand Admiral, since I know you don’t have the stones to come after me yourself.” He left the man standing there in the hall, hoping as he rounded the corner that his actions would not lead to ruin. Grace was saved momentarily, but he needed to be careful if that was to become permanent.

He wiped the grand admiral’s blood off his knuckles and onto his uniform, savoring the satisfaction of laying into the man at last. His only regret was that he had stopped when he did. Still, he couldn’t get the image of McCall laying dead on a table somewhere out of his mind.

Napoleon Alexander stood at the very back of the room looking out his window as 301 entered—much the same as he had been the first time the two men had met. 301 had been a mindless servant then, ready to die if the Ruling Council decreed it. Now it took all the self-control he could summon not to draw his weapon and strike the MWR down.

He stood at attention as the doors closed behind him, “Mighty World Ruler, sir. I was told you wished to speak with me.”

Alexander turned around to face him, lips thin, “Yes, Specter Captain. Though I must say I expected you to be here hours ago when your prisoner was first brought in.”

“I apologize, sir,” 301 said. “Pressing matters in the city required my attention.”

“So your partner told me,” the MWR replied. “But as I asked him: what could be more important?”

“The Matron of the Capital Orphanage where I was raised just passed away. She had asked to see me once more before she died.”

“Ah,” Alexander nodded. “So the good matron is dead. Her program turned out more successful soldiers than any other source within the System. I suppose you were her most prized project. Still, it doesn’t make what I have to tell you any easier…”

301 saw it then, sitting on the desk in front of him. The drab gray casing made it one of the more uninteresting ones he had seen, but there was no mistaking the name carved into the hilt:
Amicus
. Admiral McCall’s Gladius.

“First, I want you to hear it straight from me: I am placing Specter entirely under your command effective as of this moment.” The MWR let his eyes trail briefly to the Gladius, and then back to 301, “Your promotion does not come without a price, however. I’m afraid your predecessor was a traitor, Specter Captain. He came to me, under cover of this darkness, and made an attempt on my life. But as happens with all traitors, he is dead.”

301’s heart fell. So it was true then; McCall had been executed for treason.

“Who was he working for, sir?”

“The rebellion,” Alexander answered with distaste. “Apparently he has been a sympathizer for years, so if you feel any guilt at not seeing it my advice is to put it out of your mind. He fooled everyone, and placed himself here in this palace for the purpose of killing me. He would have succeeded, too, had it not been for the grand admiral’s timely arrival.”

301 felt another stab of grief for the old man. But as he had also become a rebel sympathizer of late—albeit for a different reason—he wanted to stay far from that topic.

“So I hear there is to be an execution,” he said flatly. “A burning.”

“Yes,” Alexander smiled. “And we’re hoping a good deal of Silent Thunder operatives will be in attendance. It is our plan to cordon off the Square and eliminate them. If the death of their second leader in the span of a few days is not enough to scatter them, then the loss of the majority of their men should be. Yes, Specter Captain, I suspect that by morning there will no longer be a Silent Thunder rebellion, allowing us to turn our full attention to the Ruling Council.”

301 hesitated. The plans to fight against Sullivan in the coming civil war no longer concerned him, but he had to keep up pretenses.

“I’m going to need more men, sir. More Specters.”

“Agreed,” Alexander replied. “Hopefully your incoming recruits will not need as much time to train now that they have all of Specter First Class to teach them as opposed to just one man. If we build you a solid force of Specters one hundred strong, can you bring down the Ruling Council?”

301 nodded, “Yes. Augmented by the Great Army, they will be hard-pressed to stop us.”

“Excellent,” Alexander smiled. “The Premier took a great risk in betraying me, and he—along with all the others—will pay dearly for inciting this civil war.”

Of all those who will pay dearly for their crimes
, 301 thought.
You will suffer most of all
. He was so tempted…the MWR was unarmed and helpless before him. He could draw the blade at his side and end it all with a single swing. There would be no battle, no clash of sworn enemies—Alexander would die before he even had time to react, and the world would be free of his terrible reign forever. 301 wouldn’t make it out of the palace alive, but his vengeful hunger would be sated and thousands—perhaps millions—of lives would be saved. His hand slid over to
Calumnior
.