Shadow Ops 3: Breach Zone (14 page)

And then the aircraft had cleared off, circling once back over the building and heading back toward their flight lines in New Jersey. The Specter probably still circled far above, keeping its eye on the target, radioing the battle-damage assessment back to mission control.

They would be satisfied, Harlequin thought. The spire smoked, the regal stonework already chewed to dust, rebar, and I-beams. The bronze finial was a patchwork of green and molten brown-black, flames rising from ragged holes that used to be windows.

As he watched, the spire and structure beneath it, ranging down some three stories, teetered to one side, the masonry beneath it collapsing. It hung over Wall Street for a brief moment, then tumbled over and down, bouncing off the building and crashing to the street. The cloud of dust billowed upward obscuring everything, save the Trump building’s top, now headless and burning brightly.

Harlequin bit back a scream. He’d seen this before.
Just like her old building.

He descended back to Downer in the eerie silence that followed.

‘That’s what happens, Sarah. If the enemy breaks out of here, that’s what will happen everywhere.’

‘Why the hell did they do that?’ she asked.

‘They thought Scylla was in there.’

‘Was she?’

‘Of course not. Scylla’s many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.’ He turned and headed into Castle Clinton, not waiting to see if Downer followed.

Cormack already had the VTC set up, with Gatanas shouting at him from the other end. Harlequin put his fists on the table. ‘Well done, sir. I’m not sure how many people you just killed, but I know one you didn’t.’

Gatanas didn’t take the bait. ‘I see she’s arrived,’ he said, looking past Harlequin’s shoulder.

Harlequin turned to see Downer coming into the building behind him, her expression inscrutable.

‘No more airstrikes,’ he said, turning back to Gatanas’s image on the monitor. ‘I promise you that little exercise will be all over the Internet in approximately five minutes. It’s not going to make my job any easier.’

‘It will if we just took out their command structure in one shot.’

‘But you didn’t, sir. I already told you, Scylla
wanted
you to tear that building up. Why the hell do you think she chose the tallest and most visible landmark south of the barricades? Because she likes the view?’

Gatanas was silent.

‘Scylla is trying to introduce a new order here, sir. She’s smart enough to know that an army of monsters isn’t going to do that. She needs propaganda victories like the one you just handed her. I need to drive her out of here without blowing up any more buildings.’

‘Are you done?’ Gatanas asked.

‘I’m just getting warmed up, sir. Downer is a great start, but I need more. How is it going with Canada and Mexico? Where’s Bookbinder? When last I spoke to him, we had two warships inbound to intercept.’

‘Bookbinder is still inbound.’ Gatanas looked uncomfortable. ‘Mexico and Canada are deliberating. There’s not a lot of goodwill toward the United States thanks to the stunt you pulled with FOB Frontier. A lot of countries are accusing us of colluding with India to take some kind of strategic advantage in the Source.’

‘That’s bullshit. We didn’t even know India had a FOB until our own was in danger of falling.’

‘Well, you reap what you sow, Lieutenant Colonel. I’m doing what I can from here.’ Gatanas did indeed look sleepless, his uniform rumpled, a day’s growth of stubble on his face.
Life’s rough all over.

‘We don’t have time, sir. More enemy come out of that gate every minute. River’s got them hemmed in on all sides, but the northern barricades are now held by two training Covens. They break through, and this entire island is toast. How’s the evacuation coming?’

Gatanas was silent.

‘Jesus, sir.’

‘The mayor gave the order. The people have other ideas. New York City practically functions like its own state. You have to realize how much money this place has, it’s like the de facto capital of the country.’

‘So people keep telling me. Rich, important people die just as easily as everyone else in my experience. GAU-8’s tend to do a pretty good job of that, actually.’ His reference to the A-10 cannons wasn’t lost on Gatanas, who purpled again and stabbed a finger toward him.

‘When this is over, you are going to learn a thing or two about how to be a team player.’

‘I’m sure I am, sir. Looking forward to it,’ Harlequin said.

‘For now, I need you to get your ass up to the UN.’

‘The UN?’

Gatanas nodded. ‘And you don’t have a whole lot of time either. They’re in the process of winding down to a skeleton crew. Depending on how things evolve here, I’m not certain how much longer the Security Council will be able to convene in New York. China’s lobbying pretty hard to have the body moved “temporarily” to Beijing.’

‘Don’t we have a . . . representative or something up there?’

‘We do, but he’s not Latent and he’s not in the middle of the arcane fight, as you keep reminding me and every other conventional-element commander you come in contact with. As of fifteen minutes ago, the representatives from Mexico and Canada were still in the building. You’re a public figure now, Thorsson. Get up there, tell them what’s going on down here. Tell them what’s at stake. Break them loose.’

‘How much time do I have?’

‘Ambassador Hallert is expecting you. Go now.’

‘On it.’ Harlequin broke the connection and turned to Downer. ‘You’re in or you’re out. I’ll make do either way.’

She looked at him, arms folded, nodded. ‘Okay.’

He exhaled, weakness flooding him. He steadied himself with a hand on the table, hoping she didn’t notice. ‘Thank you. I promise when this is over, we’ll find a way to make it right. What they did to you.’

‘A pardon,’ she said, ‘a full pardon. Some guarantee that I don’t go back into a cell. I know I’m a Probe, but they’re going to have to make an exception. And this is the last thing I do for you. For any of you. You make that happen.’

‘I will,’ he said.

She cocked an eyebrow. ‘Can you?’

‘I have no idea, Sarah. But I broke Oscar Britton out of prison. You help me here, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure you never go in a cell again.’

She was silent for a moment, then nodded.

He turned to Cormack. ‘Get her set up with some of the Fornax Novices. I need her to produce as many elementals as she possibly can.’

Cormack frowned. ‘Sir, some of them may balk at working with a Probe.’

‘Then unbalk them,’ Harlequin said. He turned and headed out.

‘Where are you going?’ Downer asked.

‘To get more help. Cormack will brief you up on the details, just get me as many elementals in the fight as you possibly can.’

The NYPD will have to wait.
He raced outside and launched himself skyward, Binding storm clouds around him, ensuring he had a ready supply of lightning to stave off any rocs that tried to intercept.

He put on speed, looking over his shoulder to see that Cormack had put a Kiowa aloft to escort him. There was a large cloud of rocs and wyverns circling the ruins of the Trump Building, but none seemed willing to risk tangling with Harlequin and his magic.

He kicked off, flying up Broadway, gaining altitude to get a better view of the barricade where the avenue ran into Houston Street. The fighting was thick there. Soldiers and police poured fire down the shattered street as goblins showed themselves, shouting and hurling javelins. A giant had pushed an old backhoe out into the road, and some of the creatures were using it as cover, slowly inching it forward, trying to get within bow range.

Here and there, a goblin sorcerer would add a burst of lightning or a flame strike to the mix, darting back into the buildings for cover. Harlequin could spot forward observers in the buildings to either side of the barricades, and the dull whistle and thump of mortar fire being called in wherever the sorcerers showed themselves. The goblins still adhered to their ridiculous custom of painting their sorcerers completely white, making them easy targets for snipers.

The
Gahe
worried him. Their short teleporting moved them to the barricade’s edge in an instant, overturning cars to crush the defenders or snatching them from their cover and shredding them before their comrades’ eyes. A few SOC LE support officers and the newly arrived Novices responded with bursts of Aeromantic lightning or ice storms, and here and there a Terramancer forced the earth beneath the cracked asphalt to rise, dragging the creatures down.

The defenders looked exhausted. The Novices were white-faced with terror. The
Gahe
ignored the bullets, taking one or two cops or soldiers with each sortie, until the magic drove them off.

There wasn’t enough magic. If they kept this up, the barricades would give, and the enemy would break through into the rest of the city and everything beyond.

Once over the barricades, the city became oddly silent and calm. The streets were parking lots of vehicles attempting to escape, people filling the spaces around them. Many of them were moving south to get a better view of the fighting. Huge knots of media stood just to the north of each barricade, held back by lines of police desperately needed in the fight. Harlequin could make out groups of people carrying signs, chanting for reasons he could only guess. South of the barricades, flames, screaming, blood, and ash. North of them, it looked like a party.

Harlequin heard a low buzz and looked up to see a small blue helicopter sweeping past him. He could make out a woman seated in the open cabin, her feet on the skid, aiming a video camera at the chaos below.

Harlequin veered to intercept her. ‘Get the hell down!’ he shouted. ‘No-fly zone!’

The helo ignored him, continuing south into the fighting. A group of three rocs spotted it and began winging their way toward it. Harlequin cursed and spun, extending his arm and unleashing a torrent of lightning that set one of the giant birds on fire. The other two banked and dove, sweeping underneath him. The escort Kiowa followed suit. Harlequin radioed to the pilot. ‘Keep them off the civilians! I can make my own way from here!’

This was at least the tenth civilian news helo that had violated the Breach Zone’s airspace. Harlequin would have to rely on the Kiowa to do for those rocs. His own mission was far too pressing. He had to get help for those barricades.

He veered east over Grand Central Station, and moved toward a collection of tall silver buildings abutting the East River. He gained altitude, slowing as he approached the rooftop helipad.

It was ringed by flags from over a hundred nations, bright yellow letters painted in the landing circle: UN. The giant building was already under heavy guard, and Harlequin could see gun emplacements and Humvees surrounding the ground-level entrances.

Up here was no different. Men were already streaming out onto the roof, leveling guns at him, waving their arms. He radioed his intent to land on an open channel, and they calmed, stepping back as his boots touched down on the helipad.

His time on television paid dividends yet again. Recognition was flaring in the eyes of the security guards as they approached him, lowering their weapons. He identified himself anyway. ‘Lieutenant Colonel Thorsson, Supernatural Operations Corps. Breach Zone Incident Commander. I need to speak to Ambassador Hallert right away.’

Interlude Three

New Game, New Rules

I’ve served my country faithfully since I was nine years old. I hit puberty in Ladakh, graduated college via correspondence course in Tawang. I have never kissed a boy. I have never been to a ball game. I have long since forgotten my parents’ faces. General Gatanas came out here on a tour once, met me personally, told me how grateful the country is for what I do, how many people sleep safe because of me. But, in the end, there’s only this: I killed my brother when I Manifested. I didn’t mean to, but I did. I have paid and paid and paid, and it just isn’t enough.

– Suicide note found on the pillow of Captain Heatwave
Undisclosed location

Six Years Earlier

Grace’s office was the archetype of the New York corporate landscape. Floor-to-ceiling windows left Harlequin feeling like he was floating in midair.

Crucible had been unable to wipe the grin off his face since it turned out the woman hitting on Harlequin was also the person they were there to meet. Harlequin still felt his cheeks burn at how easily he’d been taken, the sensation worsened by the fact that it hadn’t diminished his attraction to her in the slightest.

The long meeting table was the quality version of what they used in the Pentagon, real wood instead of cheap plastic laminate. The sand-colored surface reflected the light streaming in from outside, bathing the room in a gentle glow that Harlequin was sure was by design. There was true wealth on display here, the kind that showed itself in a deliberate avoidance of ostentatious display. The room was simple, almost bare, but the little that was in it was perfect. The company logo was emblazoned tastefully on the table’s corner: a smaller, stylized Scylla beside a Charybdis, a broad blue arrow pointing the safe passage between. Narrow black letters read,
CHANNEL CORP
beneath it.

Grace was joined by Noah Weiss, her Director of Research, a short, nervous-looking man who did the best impression of an anthropomorphized penguin that Harlequin had ever seen, complete with bald head, beak of a nose, and thick middle, all covered in a black-and-white suit that even got the color right.

Grace gave deference to Crucible’s rank by addressing him, but her eyes kept straying to Harlequin, the smile never entirely leaving her face.

‘Well,’ she said, her lips trembling slightly, ‘isn’t this awkward?’

‘Sorry, ma’am,’ Crucible said. ‘We’re a small corps, and this is frequently the way the military gets things done. We’re not entirely up to speed on the operation, but I assure you that we’ll be able points of contact for you once we get everything smoothed out.’

‘Can you get us subjects?’ Weiss said, leaning across the table. ‘I mean, I don’t really see the need for any kind of liaison with the SOC, to be frank. We’ve got perfectly adequate security here, and . . .’

Grace placed a hand lightly on his cuff, and his voice stopped as quickly as if she’d stolen the air from his lungs.

‘Mr. Weiss is merely enthusiastic to move forward with clinical trials. He understands, as we all do, that the military will be our largest customer,’ she said.

‘If this stuff does what you say it does,’ Crucible said, ‘the SOC will be your only customer.’

The smile vanished. ‘This compound offers unprecedented control over the brain’s limbic system,’ she said. ‘The arcane applications are undeniable. But so are the antipsychotic applications, or what it could offer as an alternative to serotonin reuptake inhibitors. There is a universe of possible therapeutic effects.’

‘Ma’am, I . . .’ Crucible began.

‘We approached you,’ Grace cut him off, ‘out of good faith, and to continue Noah’s line, in the hope that you would provide us with test subjects for clinical trials. Rats don’t come up Latent, Major. We need to test this on humans. But allow me to remind you that we are a private corporation with the right to sell whatever we want to whomever we want. The SOC does not get to swoop in here and take possession of the product. You are dealing with a company with a lot of money and the kind of lawyers that kind of money can hire. Keep that in mind.’

The major patted the air with his palms. ‘Take it easy, ma’am. Those kinds of calls get made way above my pay grade. We’re here to be liaisons and to ensure security for the lab.’

‘Be liaisons?’ Weiss asked. ‘What the hell does that even mean?’

‘It means,’ Harlequin cut in, ‘that magic is serious business, and if you’ve got a drug that has a real chance of making an impact on how we use it, then the government has a vested interest. That means you work with us. Selfers don’t like working with us, so they run. That’s when they call people like me. By the time that happens, it’s too late to be cooperative.’

Grace’s smile returned, along with her frank look. Weiss blanched and looked at his lap, sputtering. ‘There are contracting concerns . . .’

‘Which will be handled by a government contracting officer,’ Crucible said. ‘Neither of us has that role. Can you help us to better understand what those are so we can convey that information more accurately to the folks who will eventually talk money with you?’

Weiss exchanged looks with Grace, who nodded, then punched a button. An invisible seam in the wood slid back, and a monitor rose out of the center of the table, propelled by silent motors. The windows darkened. Some kind of chemical tint, Harlequin guessed.

The monitor flashed into life, showing a series of ovals layered with colored blotches.

‘What are we looking at?’ Harlequin asked.

‘These are brain scans of rhesus macaques from upstairs,’ Weiss said, gesturing to a set of ovals almost completely covered in bright red splashes of color. ‘They’ve been placed under a degree of emotional stress: brief separation from their mothers, having food displayed, then taken away. That kind of stimulus activates the limbic center in the brain,’ Weiss said. ‘You get emotional. The colors range from dark blue for low activity to bright red for high activity. As you can see, these brains are showing a tremendous amount of activity in the limbic system.’

He addressed the next set of ovals on the other half of the monitor. The color overlays showed mostly blue, with some red flashes interspersed throughout. ‘That’s after the application of the New Chemical Entity, what we’re currently calling LL-14.’

‘So, it suppresses emotion,’ Harlequin said.

‘Well, sort of,’ Weiss said. ‘Look at this.’

He brought up a video showing one of the monkeys being placed into a cage with another. The upper-right corner of the screen showed one of the colored ovals, mostly dark. ‘This monkey is being introduced into the cage of a rival male. He’s on a heavy dose of LL-14. The treated monkeys are a line we call “lambda”. The other male is untreated, from our “control” line.’

The two monkeys stared at one another through the clear Plexiglas of the cage. The control monkey was intent, teeth bared. Every muscle was poised. The lambda monkey appeared calm, aware of its rival but not overly interested in it.

‘They’re going to fight,’ Crucible said.

‘That’s what happens in nature, yes,’ Weiss answered. ‘Watch.’

The barrier was lifted, and the lambda monkey pushed into the cage. The control monkey was on it in an instant, flailing with its long arms, gnashing sharp teeth, shrieking. ‘Watch the brain activity,’ Weiss said, gesturing to the colored oval.

The lambda monkey hesitated for an instant. But only an instant. There was a brief and tiny flash of red on the very edge of the oval, then the center bloomed as if an artery had popped. The entire shape turned red as the lambda monkey answered blow for blow, clawing and biting its rival. It flung the control monkey into the back of the cage and fell on it, biting and clawing, as handlers wearing shoulder-length padded gloves and helmets reached into the cage and dragged it out, leaving the undrugged rival in a bloody heap.

The moment the danger was past, the lambda monkey went placid in the handler’s arms, the colors vanishing from the brain imagery, going dark and placid as it had been before the fight began.

‘Okay,’ Crucible said. ‘That’s . . . so it’s not emotional . . . until it is.’

Grace laughed, but Weiss was deadly serious. ‘That’s the point. That flash of activity you saw? On the edge of the brain? We keep seeing that just before the emotional center in the limbic triggers for monkeys on LL-14.’

‘What does it mean?’ Harlequin asked.

‘We’re still figuring that out,’ Grace answered, ‘but we’re fairly sure that was the brain’s neocortex, where primates engage in logical decision-making. We’ve seen that activity on a consistent, repeatable basis. The animal
can
access its emotional center when it needs to, but we believe it’s only on the basis of a rational decision, such as to defend oneself when under attack. No posturing, no bravado. Just action when it’s required.’

‘Emotional when you need to be,’ Crucible breathed.

‘To evoke magic when you need to and put it away when you’re done,’ Harlequin added. ‘Holy shit, that’s . . .’

Weiss raised his hands. ‘That’s
preliminary
, is what that is. We need clinical trials. We need to try this on Latent people.’

Harlequin exchanged a glance with Crucible. ‘You can’t expect us to turn SOC personnel, even Rump Latents, into lab rats. We could certainly put out a call for volunteers, but I’m not even sure that the Joint Service Surgeon General would approve that. That’s the kind of thing Congress would probably want to debate . . .’

Crucible’s voice was steel. ‘Let me make some calls. We can probably have a subject available within the week.’

Harlequin’s jaw dropped. ‘Sir . . .’

Crucible’s boot collided sharply with Harlequin’s shin under the table. The motion wasn’t totally obvious, but Grace and Weiss couldn’t have failed to see the surprise on Harlequin’s face.

Weiss looked shocked, but Grace smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing. Shame and fury boiled in Harlequin’s gut, and he pushed back against his magical tide.

‘Well, that’s delightful,’ Grace said. ‘What else do you need from us?’

‘That presentation,’ Crucible said, ‘along with any other evidentiary documents I can submit to my command. I’ll also need a promise that not a word of this conversation leaves this room. I’ll have nondisclosure agreements for you to sign by close of business today. Does anyone else know about this meeting?’

Grace and Weiss made eye contact, looked back at Crucible. ‘Our conference scheduler, the shareholder liaison officer, and another of my senior VPs,’ she said, ‘and none of them think it’s anything more than an “exploratory discussion.” We’ve kept the initial findings, the drug’s efficacy, on lockdown.’

‘My team knows of the success of the research,’ Weiss added, ‘but not that we’re talking to you.’

‘Okay,’ Crucible said. ‘We’ll be having all of them sign NDAs, too. You’ll tell them this meeting was unproductive. We’re not interested.’

‘But . . .’ Weiss began.

Grace silenced him with a look. ‘We can do that,’ she said. ‘When do we hear from you next?’

‘Hopefully,’ Crucible replied, ‘tomorrow. If this shows as much promise to my command as it does to me, I think they’re going to want to move very quickly indeed.’

‘I’m very much looking forward to that,’ she said.

‘One more request,’ Crucible added. ‘Let me have the room alone with my colleague here for a few minutes.’

Grace and Weiss nodded and stood. ‘We’ll be upstairs in my office. Just have the receptionist buzz us when you’re done. Let him know if you need water or crackers or anything. I’m really looking forward to seeing both of you’ – she gave Harlequin a pointed glance – ‘later.’

Then she was gone, Weiss trailing at her heels, their strained silence palpable until the conference-room doors closed behind them.

Crucible turned back to Harlequin, steepled his fingers. ‘I’m really sorry about that, Jan. You tripped over some stuff that you’re . . . not privy to yet.’

Harlequin pushed back on his anger. ‘I gathered. What was all that?’

‘We can give them a subject. The Selfer you took down last night.’

Harlequin stared. ‘The . . . sir, we just captured her. What the hell are you talking about?’

‘You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jan. Gatanas is going to flip when he sees this presentation. He’s going to want this drug in our dispensaries yesterday. Can you imagine? Being able to guarantee control over your magical current? Accessing it whenever and however you wanted? No danger of going nova?’

As if to prove Crucible’s point, Harlequin again pushed back on the surge of his magical tide, borne on the sudden feeling that he didn’t know Crucible at all, coupled with the lingering embarrassment over being shut down in front of Grace.

‘Jesus, Jan. What do you think we do with Selfers?’ Crucible asked.

Harlequin’s lips felt numb. ‘They go into Suppression at Quantico. In some cases, they’re executed.’

‘Right.’ Crucible nodded. ‘All of them? Even the Probes? These people are legally dead, Jan. They have no rights. Understanding and controlling magic is the biggest priority on the national defense agenda. Do you think we’re just going to let hordes of legally dead Latent people rot in prison? Or kill them? All of them?’

‘I . . .’ The room spun around him. Harlequin bit back on his tide and closed his eyes. ‘I . . . We don’t catch that many . . . It’s rare to come up Latent.’

Crucible touched his shoulder gently. ‘And we don’t . . . repurpose many. But sometimes, we do.’

‘Repurpose? Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘What would you prefer, Jan? That woman is mentally unhinged. She almost killed an entire housing project full of people. She forced you to risk your safety to bring her in. She’s here. She’s available. We haven’t even transferred her yet. Maybe this drug will help her.’

‘Maybe this drug will give her cancer, or brain damage, or bleeding ulcers.’

Crucible rolled his eyes. ‘So, it’s better for her to die by lethal injection. Or to rot away in the brig at Quantico on the taxpayers’ dime for the rest of her life.’

He sighed, leaned forward. ‘Look, Jan. All I’m saying is that we give her a chance to volunteer.’