Seraphina closes her eyes. Prophecy will be hard, she is here and involved. Knows all the people here well enough for her emotions to interfere with a clean oracle. Yet, there may be a way. As far as she knows, no one has ever tried this. She concentrates on the Greater Demons, casts prophecy for them. Something, just out of sight in the whirl of impressions and colors that always hover just beyond her mind. Something ….
“Yes a Cat will win this fight, Rage defeating evil might.
Out of sight, yet in plain view, Claws achieve what a sword can't do,
Demons die, or run and hide, Far away to the other side.”
Her eyes snap open. “Cat! Ahitana's gift! Use it now!”
* * *
Target room in sight of the point group. Temperature rising in the building, a few small fires guttering where an arc of flame had overshot a demon. Worry about that later. He reaches the door and peers around the edge. The room is crawling with demons. There will be no sanctuary there.
“Luis, we can't use C-12-3. It is absolutely heaving in there.” No emotion left. Wince as someone screams in pain. People getting tired. Too many powerful demons.
“Wickham, keep your people away from the door and under cover. Get ready for a surprise.” Luis sounds almost amused. He clicks over to Don Brent.
“Don, our people are just outside the co-ordinates. There appear to be many demons in the room. You would not happen to have a few plasma and neg grenades, would you?”
“We are usually prepared here.” Brent says, slightly wryly. “Not the first time we have used it in this way. Consider it done.” Brent signals his wormhole crew. “Fire it up – one way – and send three plasma through on ten second fuses, forty degree spread. Four negs in fifteen seconds, four second fuses” Flick back to Wickham.
“Ten seconds.” Ten seconds until what? The low throbbing hum of a wormhole appearing. Sounds different. Not Dispatch, that has a shrill vibration to it. Three clattering thumps, audible even over the movement of the demons. Tempted to peek. Three coughing roars and a torrent of almost solid plasma at six thousand degrees erupts through the door, instantly incinerating everything flammable in its path. Oh. “Luis, what use is ...” Four more clatters, then almost immediately four small coughs and a wave of intense cold, bringing the temperature down to bearable again.
Oh, right. Get them moving into the shambles of the room. Start banishing demons from the pathetic smears and scraps on the floor, walls and ceiling. A heavy thump from behind him and a case of sun grenades appears from nowhere. A tank of flame thrower fuel. Another case of grenades. Set a couple of lightly injured to drag the cases out of the way and run supplies to the rearguard covering the door.
Cat and me are going to have a long talk after this. A very long talk.
* * *
Ahitana's gift. It leaves the others to bear the brunt of the attack, with all the dangers to them that entails, but makes sense. Is the only way I'll get close to the big guys to do some damage. Close eyes, seek the place I need to be.
Fear. Already there, a fear for myself of course, but, for the others, an intense terror. Rage. Always easy to summon. Pure, murderous rage has been part of me and my life forever. Feel a twist in my mind, almost a click, as I fade from demonic sight. Five long steps to the right, six forward, Pain out cautiously. A pair of imps two paces away. Completely ignoring me as they orient on my team. Quick swipe of Pain and one collapses to the floor, dead. The other glances around, looking right at me. Right through me. Takes another step towards my friends. Kill it.
The gift works. A chuckle in my mind and a faint thought. “Did you think it would not, old friend?” Ahitana. Glimpse the Mara from above as his trace in my mind fades and is gone. Gesture to the strike team. One of the routines we had preplanned. Half of them break and race for the other corner of the warehouse, drawing a stream of small demons their way. Leaving me a clear path to the great ones.
Turn and stride towards the Greater Demons. Pain out and ready, murder in my heart.
* * *
Dispatch is going crazy. Wormhole down, communications down, strike team separated from Mop up and Protection. Remote cameras, hovering above the target zone showing the aftermath of the desperate fight to get off the roof. Techs racing around the floor, tearing off access panels and frantically trying to trace the faults. One more man is not going to be noticed. Walk as if you belong there. Over the last twenty minutes, Luis has relayed the full story to me through Don Brent, but he did not recognise the person that gave him the Sight flash. Stop at the security station, brush a woman aside and access replay. She turns to glare, sees the coveralls of a chief tech, and subsides again. “What happened, Chief,” she asks, trying to, and not quite succeeding, in keeping the anger out of her voice. Security Captain. Be polite. There. That is who Luis was looking at. Memorise his face.
“Don't know yet, Captain. But I doubt it is all co-incidence. Keep your team sharp.” The edge of anger in Sergei's voice is audible.
She relaxes minutely. This chief feels the same as she does, he must be alright. Standard patterning and following technique. Always works. “Phones still work. Local 2033 will get me if you find anything.”
“Will do.” Walk away. Towards the control room. Got a person in there to extract and talk to.
* * *
They just keep coming. There must be thousands of demons in this building. Rotate door guards as they get tired. The problem is, everyone is tired. Many injured, most mildly, some seriously.
"Bile Demons!” A cry from the door. “Eight of them.” Race over to the door. Oh great. They will be able to ignore the door and burn through the wall, given time. There are only two Ones here capable of banishing a Bile Demon. And fire doesn't bother them in the least. Look at Peters. He nods.
Everyone has to die sometime.
* * *
Reach the first of the Great Demons, slash Pain in a whistling overhand cut. Almost drop her as she bounces off and the vibrating shock runs up my arm. Not a scratch. Lean back and look. Not a hole or a mark on it, despite being hit several times with various rounds. The demon is swinging its head around, confused at where that sudden bump had come from. Great. Just fucking great.
It is nearly out of the pit, balanced on the edge. Other two still trying to get out, but blocked. Flash races in from the other side, slashes and runs at full speed as the demon tries to grab her. These things are comparatively slow, thank Him for that small mercy. Black ichor drips from where she had hit. So it does bleed. “Claws achieve what a sword can't do.” Sheath Pain. Unsheath claws. Slash at one wrist. My claws cut through it's bronze skin like butter, severing tendons and making the fingers and talons of that hand useless.
Dance around to the side and slash through a leg tendon. Duck and roll, taking off two of the three fingers on its good hand. Slash the other leg as it tries to rise. Flash prancing in threateningly, just out of reach. “Make it turn around, Flash.” Through her battle rage, she hears. She leaps in close, slashes and jumps to the side. It turns its head and body. Leap for its throat, sink all claws in and pull with every ounce of strength and rage I have. With a sudden tearing sound and drenching gout of ichor, most of its throat comes out. It collapses onto the other two, pinning them between the edge of the pit and its huge bulk as it slowly bleeds out. Not dead yet, until the head is taken, but totally immobile and helpless.
Jump off the body and walk around to the next one, slowly trying to squirm out from under it's companion's bulk. Look over at my friends. They are fighting well, a few minor injuries so far but nothing serious, and the corpse is slowing down the stream of smaller demons, giving them a break. Look back at the pinned demons. Glance down at my claws. This is going to get very, very messy.
* * *
Lean close. Whisper. “He wants to see you right now.” Trigger implants, send the verification signal he had learned from the long night hours of accessing Shakihwa's implants looking for information.
Startled glance from the wormhole operator. “Now? I need to stay here.”
“Someone else will cover it. He has another task for you. Come quickly. He hates to be kept waiting.” The operator nods and rises. Leave the control room unnoticed in the confusion. Head for the door, nodding to the guards as they pass. A perfect extraction. Guide the tech down a little used corridor. As he draws level with a hatch, it springs open and two arms snake out and grab his throat, pulling him in and preventing any outcry. Sergei smiles as he flicks on his internal jammers and enters the room. James certainly has a talent for this. The guy is already sagging, the truth drug taking hold and turning his will to putty.
“Now.” settling into a chair as the tech falls to the floor. “What, exactly, did you do, and on who's orders.” As the tech starts to speak into the waiting recorders, James methodically goes over his body,removing or disabling all the implants and communication devices. A satisfied nod. It is done.
Jammers off. Configure phone to Free State standard, chief tech band, and trigger. Call Local 2033.
“Yes?” Sharp voice. Tense.
“Captain, you asked me to call if I found anything. There is a worm in the main control computer, constantly renewed from stations sixteen and twenty three. I repeat, stations one-six and two-three. Do not try to shut them down, destroy them completely, at once, and tell the senior tech there to hot restart the main and break out replacement stations from stores. She has five minutes to get them online, communications first.”
“Wilco, Chief.” Rapid stream of orders, two closely space explosions and a couple of screams from techs who didn't get out of the way fast enough. “Will we be in time?”
“We had better be. Out.” Right. Next target. Needing him alive makes for annoying complications. Or challenges. “Coming, James?”
Fierce grin. “Call me Rico. And I'd not miss it for the world.”
* * *
Two of the Great Demons beheaded and dead. Flow of small demons has settled to an intermittent trickle. Cat moves to the last.
Banish an afreet. No threats left in her quadrant. Watch Cat as he leaps on the last ones back and starts hacking through the neck with his stiff and weary fingers. Every movement slow and painful. The demon flails its one free arm, uselessly trying to grab him. No, not grab him! A complex gesture finishes just as Cat severs the head.
She screams. Uselessly.
With a gentle sigh of collapsing air, the demon disappears. With Cat still on its back.
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