Mission Debrief
Lead Operative: Bani Elkind
Operative(s): Bjorn Oleander, Blanka Bess, Elsbeth Duhrer, Maurik Leodgar
Person(s) of Interest: Bella Davor
Expenses: 320 Lyra (Receipts included, augmented with my own funds.)
Outcome: Success*
Summary:
Conclusion appended to the end of report.
This was a voluntary assignment. Bella Davor announced herself to our organization. She is under duress, looking for a way out of her current situation by allying herself with Nachtrichter.
Detail:
I dabbed away at the beaded sweat on my forehead. Of all the things to forget, the white rose tied with a silk ribbon. It was a small thing, but key to letting our contact know who we were. I waited at the stall watching a disgruntled Blanka, she was looking at me from a stranger’s eyes. She was ‘Olivia’ now. Dark silk gloves pulled up to just above her elbows covering her alabaster white skin. She was drumming her fingers on a small clutch as she watched, I had to remind myself she was underneath that illusion or the smoldering glare would have me sweating even more.
Bjorn was hulking next to her. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but he regularly checked his blind spots. Elsbeth lingered close, but was taking in the sights around her so she didn’t end up staring.
I thanked the woman at the stall as she tied the black silk ribbon high on the neck of the stem. I was careful to avoid the thorns as I twirled it in my fingers and tucked it into the pocket of my suit jacket. The woman was annoyed that I took something this lovely and pocketed it, but the generous tip brought a small smile back to her lips.
The theater at Gempf was set apart from all other buildings on its own city block. Automobiles lined the streets as drivers dropped off the guests. The stone stairs supported the flow of theater goers while statues looked on. I looped my arm through Olivia’s and we ascended into the theater.
I swore I could hear Bjorn clinking gently as he moved. He wore a near floor-length trench coat he’d garnered from the armory and I was sure Isaac had a hand in his selection. I was absolutely sure we could be in violation of several laws with what he was likely carrying. I was armed as well, my Toro on my hip and a coiled whip because of how easy it was to conceal. Elsbeth moved into the lobby and found a place to wait, reviewing the play bill intently, but glancing around occasionally. We turned right, finding where the velvet ropes protected the entry to the box seats.
The usher offered a white gloved hand, his uniform was a steely gray and looked far from comfortable. The heat from the churn of people was building and it seemed to be getting to him. I offered the tickets. He looked at Olivia and I, his expression not changing. Until he laid eyes on Bjorn when he had to tip his head slightly back to take him in.
I followed his gaze and spoke.
“He’s with me. He’ll be waiting outside our box.”
The usher thought about saying something. It was likely not usual, but he thought better of it. He tilted forward at the waist and pulled the velvet rope free and let us through. We moved up the overstuffed steps to our box. It was the very last seating area, which meant you were close enough to see the players sweating through their stage makeup.
It has been a while since I’ve been at the theater. It brought back a torrent of memories, but, this time, I let them linger. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed them. I turned toward Blanka’s persona and gave her a grin. She returned the smile, but cocked her head with an unasked question.
Bjorn put his back to the pillar between boxes emitted more of a clank as he settled in.
“If ya need me, I’ll be here. Don’t hesitate.” He spoke low as he crossed his arms in front of him.
“Yes. We’re the bacon and that’s the frying pan. I remember.”
“Don’t get burned, ya?”
I nodded in response then pushed through the curtains into the box. I felt a moment of vertigo as I looked down on the seething audience below me. I immediately felt underdressed. We took the seats closest to the stage. I had looked at the playbill and was a little underwhelmed: The Children's Hour. Bjorn hadn’t been all that enthusiastic about the play, himself.
There was a chime signalling that the play would start in five minutes.
“The rose.” I reminded myself aloud and snaked it from my suit coat and placed it across my left knee in clear view. Only the two of us were in the booth at the moment. Another couple came in and sat behind us, but Bella didn’t seem to be present.
I leaned close to Olivia, “I don’t think this is going to happen. She may have been expecting your mother.”
Blanka grimaced at the reference to her mother. She slumped a little and looked off to the side. This very Blanka reaction played out on her Olivia persona. She looked like a stricken debutante. I barely held back a smile.
One of the ushers approached and handed me a note. It was written in the same hand as the letter.
“Friends, I’m afraid that our rendezvous has been compromised. I am waiting out front in a dark blue Wayfarer Pegasus. Look for me there.”
It was signed with a graceful ‘B. Davor’ at the bottom.
“This isn’t good.”
I handed the letter to Olivia to review.
“We move when the lights go down.” I let out a sigh in mock defeat, “And, here, I was looking forward to getting a little culture.”
The one-minute chime came and went and the orchestra started to swell. I nodded to Olivia and we stood and slipped out of the box, through the curtain.
I spotted Bjorn.
“Change of plans. She was followed. We’re meeting her out in her car.”
I saw his jaw ripple and he followed silently. He jangled slightly as he moved ahead.
We approached the lobby and I made eye contact with Elsbeth. I let Olivia and Bjorn take the lead while I moved toward Elsbeth.
“She’s being followed. We’re going to her car. Meet up with Maurik as quickly as possible and be ready to follow us as soon as we’re on the move.”
She looked concerned. Elsbeth’s eyes weren’t the sort for concealing what she felt, but she didn’t say a word and moved resolutely out the doors toward Maurik. Even with the change in plans, I didn’t feel exposed. I was glad Bjorn suggested he bring his cab for the mission.
I moved down the stone steps of the theater and saw Bjorn and Blanka. In the moments between, Blanka had returned to herself, shedding her ‘Olivia’ persona. The evening dress, while more slight, was still stunning over her form. She beckoned me toward them.
Bjorn moved toward a dark limousine. It took up a large portion of the parking area. The engine compartment, alone, was nearly a third of its length. Bjorn moved close and knocked on the window. There was a brief exchange and the driver came around to open the door, Bjorn waved him off and took the door himself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elsbeth climb into the cab and Maurik’s hands were on the wheel. I was extremely proud of the team dropping into the right places as the situation unfolded.
“Get in,” Bjorn said gruffly to me.
I moved in first, with Blanka close behind. A woman sat opposite of us. I assumed it was Bella. She fit the descriptions that Elsbeth and I had found of the woman in our earlier research. She had a certain majesty to her that drew your eye. Stateful and nearly glowing with confidence as we tried to organize ourselves. As Blanka sat next to me, I felt her shift into a different mode of operation as she settled into her seat and was eye to eye with the considerably older woman.
“One moment Ms. Davor. We should hold introductions until we’re reasonably safe. I take it your driver is capable?”
She nodded and pressed a button that emitted a faint crackling sound.
“Please put some distance between our pursuers.”
The driver nodded in acknowledgement. He sat behind a thick window just over her shoulder and kept his eyes forward. Bulletproofed from the inside? I didn’t want to know why.
The throaty report of the vehicle roared to life as the driver readied to depart. Bjorn’s hefty frame dropped into the seat of the Wayfarer Pegasus and shut the door behind him. I was used to Bjorn rocking whatever car he sat in, but this beast hardly moved. We were sitting on what seemed like an incredibly plush velvet couch. There were small cabinets that dotted the compartment which, I was sure, contained various liquors and glasses. Curtained windows lined the passenger area, which was fitting for the occupant. This was designed as a home away from home.
The car rumbled as it negotiated its way onto the street, then purred with acceleration as we took flight on the straightaway. The beast moved ponderously as it shifted on its leaf springs during turns, but it easily outpaced any vehicle I’d ever been in.
“Dere dey are. Recognize him?”
As we moved, two men emerged from the theater and rushed down the steps. He saw our vehicle pull away and he altered his course to a series of vehicles parked closeby.
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
The man in the lead was ‘The Hammer’, we’d encountered him when snatching Monica Granger from a near certain doom. I couldn’t see Maurik from the curtained rear window, but I was sure he was in pursuit.
The driver moved through the city streets aggressively, ending up on the highway and then he set the motor to singing. The whole rear compartment trembled with the effort, but the ride remained smooth. I marveled at the engineering as I watched the headlights fade into the distance behind us. The driver turned off his lights then maneuvered back into the city, using the streetlights to navigate.
“With that business behind us,” Bella looked to each of us, “I assume none of you are the leader of your organization? Angelica Bess?”
“Unfortunately, she was previously engaged. We’ve come in her stead,” I stated plainly.
I introduced myself by name and pointed to Bjorn who simply said, “Bjorn,” then went quiet, looking menacing. Bella’s disappointment was obscured by pleasantries, but still visible.
“I am Blanka Bess. I will act for Angelica Bess in these negotiations.” Blanka postured, she was fully invested in the part: Straight backed, calm expression, scrutinizing Bella for weaknesses.
Bella’s eyes glittered briefly, her disappointment had faded somewhat with Blanka’s introduction. Her interest was concerning.
“I would like to know how you know about us?” I asked her.
“I have my own means. Wealth and status affords me many connections, as you can imagine.”
“Sure.”
I nodded at the non-answer. This was going to be more difficult than I thought.
The conversation revolved on how much she could help us if we could fulfill her requests. I was becoming used to using Bjorn as my barometer of how effective I was navigating the conversation. Each time I revealed too much information Bjorn would grunt or, in one case, outright interrupt.
“My friend Bani here might be a little too free with de details.” Bjorn leaned in, “What is it you want, exactly?”
“For one, Citizenship in Burgundia.”
“You can apply for dat. It’s not really our place.”
“Also, protection provided by your organization.”
Bjorn shook his head.
“He’s right. That’s not really our place.” I shrugged as I acknowledged Bjorn’s point.
“With an alliance in place, I have centuries of knowledge I can share. I have researched my own condition and can offer insights. The origins of my condition are likely from a rogue use of wild magicks. I could share all of this with you if you just afford me this place of safety.”
She looked to everyone, and locked into Blanka who seemed to be most receptive.
“You understand this,” she glanced at her hair, “You know this better than these two.”
Blanka remained silent, stolid even. Bella sighed and settled back into her seat.
“We are going to Cardington Airfield. We’re here earlier than my scheduled flight, this will give us some time to talk through details.”
Nothing felt right, her words weren’t lining up and the shimmering sheen and polished presence was breaking down with the questions. She’d been talking in circles.
Bjorn pulled back the curtains and was looking across the darkened airfield. Large hangars loomed against the night sky, but the moon shone on two vehicles a short distance away. Two men wearing Clovian three-quarters plate armor were standing near the larger vehicle with the silhouette of a lorry.
“You have a lot of Clovian bodyguards.” I said matter of factly, then added, “It’s best if we stop the car here to have that conversation. Now.”
“Fine.” Bella said shortly.
She pressed the button twice and the driver responded immediately. He turned off the car and the lights clicked off. Then briefly on and off again.
“There. We can talk now.”
Bjorn gave a dissatisfied grunt and pressed out the door. He rattled under the trench coat and pulled out a Tomahawk. He rammed a large drum into the magazine slot and pulled back the charging handle and let it slide forward. I saw the lights come on from the other vehicles and they started to approach.
“Tell your men to stand down.”
“This is an overreaction, they’re just here to take me to my ship,” she rolled her eyes impatiently, “I can see you are nervous. Here’s my card. You can contact me later to work out the details.”
I glanced at Blanka, then back to Bella.
Bella snapped open her clutch and quickly pressed a small mask that fit over her nose and mouth. I was confused until she opened a small vial that filled the passenger cabin with a noxious cloud. I caught my breath as it touched the back of my throat. I kept myself from coughing pressing back against the need to breathe.
Blanka immediately began coughing, color draining from her face. I heard Bjorn respond similarly. Her rush to put on the mask that was protecting her from the cloud had dislodged the cornsilk blonde wig she was wearing. I gave her a withering look and she seemed startled that I didn’t react like the others. I grabbed at the passenger door handle and it popped open with ease. I moved out into the night air and let out my breath then drew a lungful of clean air in. A passenger car with two men sped past and screeched to a halt about fifteen meters away.
I grabbed the driver’s door handle and swung his door open wide. He looked startled. His gun was holstered in the door, well away from him. I moved forward to block him from it. Instead of reaching for it, though, he used his leverage from the lap belt against me and shoved me away. It put me off balance and I reeled back a few steps. His eyes were frantic as he slammed the door and slapped the lock. I reached back to draw my pistol. He braced for impact.
“Don’t do it!” the woman shouted, “You are completely surrounded. Surrender and we’ll let you live.”
I turned slowly and faced the imposter Bella. She had emerged from the same door I came from with a Faust pistol in her hand. She’d pulled the wig from her head and dropped it to the ground. The two men were still exiting the car, grabbing their Spitzer submachine guns from the back. Her gun was trained on me and she was ready to fire.
“Surrender now to die somewhere in god forsaken Clovia. Not a chance.” I growled at her.
I reached for the whip and uncoiled it rapidly, sending a stinging snap at her hand. This sent the pistol to the ground. I rushed toward her. She balked for a moment, appearing to surrender. I intended to take her as a hostage, but as I looked toward the men raising their guns she brought a left hook to bear; her small, dense fist crashing into my jaw. I saw stars and stumbled briefly.
I used the door to stabilize myself and tried to collect my thoughts. The fake Bella had stepped back from me leaving her gun behind. She had an infuriating self-satisfied smirk. I could hear retching from the cab. I hoped the poisonous cloud had dispersed, at least. At a short distance, two men were now yelling at me with submachine guns at the ready, fingers on the trigger.
There was a strange moment, I felt a rush of energy fill my body. I looked for the source of it and caught Blanka’s eyes in the cab looking in my direction, her pupils dilated as she focused in my direction. Whatever she did, time seemed to slow as I took in the scene.
As the two men were focused on me, I saw the woman turn her attention momentarily. Bjorn charged at her with a massive battle axe from behind the car. I saw her double over with a flash of the double half-moon blade.
Where was he keeping that god-damned battle axe?
Using Bjorn as a distraction, I raised my hands as if to surrender, then dove into the car and slammed the door behind me slapping the lock plunger down. I was able to move with lightning speed.
Unfortunately, the back windows were not bulletproof. A sputtering report from one of the Spitzers and bullets came crashing through the window, thudding into my left forearm and shoulder. I pulled my arm close to me attempting to keep the bleeding at bay. My head was still swimming from the earlier blow. This didn’t look good. Hope was slowly slipping away.
The smell of bile became more obvious. While the poison had subsided, Blanka had been dutifully painting the interior with the contents of her stomach. One of the plate armored guards was sitting in the car, his hands on his knees.
“What’s he doing here?”
“I thought it might help Bjorn.”
His eyes rolled to me uncomfortably, but he seemed to be unable to move otherwise.
Shouts from outside to surrender erupted again. I could see the woman now standing behind the two men with submachine guns. She looked pained and considerably more pale. Whatever Bjorn had done had left her dress in tatters.
We hadn’t made them angry enough to simply pull the trigger until we stopped moving. We had to be able to use that to our advantage, but I couldn’t see how.
“I don’t have any more tricks. We surrender or they fill the cab with bullets and pull out the wounded. We have to break line of sight to make anything happen.”
Blanka’s eyes widened with a thought. She put her hands above her hand then turned them toward each other. Her pantomime meant she still could make us all disappear. This realization sent goosebumps over my arms. We had a few more tricks to spare after all.
“Yes. Wait for my signal,” I whispered.
I raised my hands echoing her response, dropping my whip in the process. She moved over the top of the unmoving soldier and I did the same. Making eye contact briefly as I moved past him. I yelled out the window. We moved toward the side of the car where a single soldier was engaged with Bjorn.
“Bjorn, stand down. We need to surrender.”
He quit attacking, but then appeared overcome with whatever poison she used in the cabin and began to retch. Gouts of vomit splattered on the ground and all over the soldier’s shoes. The soldier stepped back in horror. Even with the mess, the soldier kept his gun trained on Bjorn, but stayed his trigger finger.
I was able to properly take in the airfield. We were out in the open. There was no place to make a stand. The lorry that was driven by the two armored soldiers was a mere ten meters away, unoccupied. If we could make it to the vehicle, we might be able to get away.
Something caught my eye high above us. We were at Cardington Airfield. Cardington tower was the mooring point for both commercial and private airships. I could see a form standing on the highest platform of the mooring tower appearing and disappearing with the slow strobing of the red docking lights. Her arms were stained darkly. I realized it was the blossom of wild hair that reflected the red light against the dark skies that had initially caught my eye. I could see the glint of a rifle barrel at her feet, but it didn’t look right. The rifle itself was tipped on its side. She had taken out their overwatch. I let out a quick exhale with the realization.
Bella Davor, I presume?
The form didn’t move, though. She watched and waited. We had to solve the immediate problem ourselves.
I refocused on the problems at hand. Bjorn was hunched over, wiping away the remains of what he’d let loose. Blanka looked like she was barely holding her composure, fighting back the sickness, but she was ready with hands raised. I glanced across the car, my arms also raised, and saw all of them with guns leveled and ready to fire. This was the last gimmick we could pull before they lost their patience and simply cut us down in a hail of bullets.
“Now!” I whispered fervently.
Blanka brought her hands together in a light clap.
For us, nothing changed. It wasn’t immediately obvious if it had worked, but their subsequent reactions made it clear. I flagged toward the lorry as our egress, Blanka’s head bobbed in response but Bjorn was preoccupied. Submachine gun fire erupted, firing blindly from all sides. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bjorn had avoided the worst of it, he immediately swelled into his clothes, filling out the immense bulk of the trenchcoat. Large claws protruded from his sleeves and his maw gaped in a roar. Immediately, blood was gushing from the soldier he was facing. The sight of an invisible assailant must have been horrifying for the observers. Bjorn had knocked him prone and proceeded to ravage him.
The woman leveled her pistol in my direction, she clearly had a bead on me even when we’d disappeared. She squeezed off a shot and grazed me, but still drew blood. I dropped behind the wheel well cursing.
I am going to tear her apart.
A spray of bullets came from the passenger compartment. The soldier Blanka had somehow controlled apparently still had his weapon. He sprayed in her direction and I heard bullets hit flesh.
I was immediately heartsick. Chasing anger with adrenaline, I yanked my Toro revolver clear and leaned into the passenger compartment, shooting at the soldier. I saw a bullet hit, but I couldn’t do much more from my cover.
It was now clear that we were visible. Blanka couldn’t maintain the illusion, but she was nowhere to be seen. I saw a blood trail dashing toward the lorry. Thankfully, she’d gotten to cover. I couldn’t bear thinking of her getting hurt.
Too late for that.
I was hit with a blast of exhaust as the car rumbled to life. The choking plume of smoke surrounded me and the vehicle pulled away. I was immediately exposed. The two plainclothes operatives took two hard angles on me, moving into place quickly, pinning me down with submachine guns. There was a smug smile on the woman’s face as she moved forward with her gun held level. I dropped my Toro revolver and kicked it away, furious. I raised my hands.
There was a grinding sound. The lorry was in motion. I turned to watch it lumber forward and plow into one of the plainclothes operatives. He bounced off of the bumper with a thud and rolled away from the wheels. I felt the churn of wind as the lorry narrowly avoided me.
I saw the grab bars on the back of the lorry, and without a second thought, I reached out and closed my hand around it. The lorry dragged me for a moment before I could get a knee on the bumper to pull myself up. The other plainclothes operator let the bullets fly, spraying the pavement and landing a few pinging shots on the lorry itself.
The woman followed me with her eyes, a scowl slowly consuming her face as she watched me slip away. She aimed her pocket pistol, but then thought better of it, and moved toward the passenger car.
Bjorn in a bear rage emerged from the shadows, charging the lorry-softened operative. I heard screams and the operative who had eyes on me turned in a panic and pulled his submachine gun up to try and defend himself from this new threat. I could hear the screams go silent even over the noise of the lorry picking up speed.
Tear them apart, Bjorn.
The Wayfarer Pegasus turned on its lights and a throaty roar from the V12 engine came toward us. I tested the back door of the lorry, which opened easily. I slipped into the back.
I saw Blanka’s slight form trying to negotiate the gears and the large steering wheel.
“Keep going, Blanka! We’re going to have company soon.”
She didn’t respond, engrossed with getting everything where it needed to be. Thankfully, she’s always been a quick study. I could see a stream of blood running down her arm, slicking her shifting hand. She was likely operating entirely off of adrenaline.
That made two of us.
I looked around the cargo area. A tangle of a net hanging from the ceiling held another set of the three-quarters plate armor. Boxes and crates written in Gualish. I had to shift my thinking until I laid my eyes on a box with a clearly stenciled “grenade” on it. I raised the lid; it was nearly full. I grabbed two pulled the pin on the first, but held the spoon. I opened the latch of one of the cargo doors and let it swing open by itself. I quickly popped out and saw that the Pegasus was parallel with us, not quite caught up. They were focused on the driver side of the lorry. The soldier that had been forced to sit with us was aiming forward. He let loose a round and I could hear shattered glass from the front. Blanka swore loudly in response.
I gave the soldier a little something to distract him. I tossed the first grenade through the open window and pulled a pin on the next one, priming it to explode on impact with a quarter twist.
With a throaty roar, the Pegasus moved forward again, this time in clipping the lorry. I smacked my head against one of the metal cabinets in the lorry. I felt my grip slip on the grenade, but braced it against me as I gripped the edge of the cabinet I had just clipped my head on.
Another head check and I saw the car slip back again, leaving the window in full view. The first explosion went off, blasting out the rest of the unbroken windows in the rear passenger area. The soldier held his head against the concussion. Blood leaked from under his armor and out his ears, but he was still alive.
He spotted me. His eyes widened as I kissed the grenade. I lobbed it effortlessly through the window. The resulting blast blew the door open. The man’s torso flopped forward to the floor of the open door. His hands danced against the ground; quickly turning into an unrecognizable pulp.
I saw the lights from the passenger vehicle moving up on our right. I ducked into the back of the lorry with the intent of telling Blanka, but the roar of the Pegasus rushed us again. The world rocked. I braced against impact. I saw Blanka bounce from her seat. We were now on a flat grassy field. The whole lorry rattled with the speed. Blanka tried to regain her seat, but was unable to get her feet under her.
I couldn’t do anything but hold on. I saw Blanka get ahold of the wheel to steady our progress over the grassy field. I heard the engine straining against the gears as it began to slow.
Suddenly, the world began to spin. I reached up and grabbed the net on the ceiling and clung to it as the ceiling became the floor. We landed, scattering the contents of the whole lorry around me. The vehicle slid to a halt, when I looked up, I saw the front windshield shattered and Blanka was lying prone in the grass, her red hair shimmering in the headlights.
My heart sunk at the sight of her still form.
Don’t die on me, Blanka.
I grappled through the armor, and found a 1934 pistol in the holster. Not my weapon of choice, but I didn’t really have a choice. Among the scattered items, I found a bar of field healing chocolates. I ripped it open, broke the bar in half, and jammed it in my mouth. I could feel their properties begin to work, but it began to turn my stomach. I swallowed hard on the rest of it. I kept the other portions ready in hand for Blanka.
The Wayfarer Pegasus was still speeding ahead. Then something strange happened. The car flipped without warning, sending dirt and grass flying as it ground to a stop, it’s headlights still pushing off into the darkness.
Lights from the passenger car caught up on the right and stayed lit on the scene. I could hear the door shut rapidly. I started to move toward the front of the lorry walking on the ceiling, staying low to keep an eye on Blanka, who had begun to stir and moved to her hands and knees.
Stay down, girl. Stay down!
I heard shouting. The driver from the other vehicle was running toward the lorry, he paused and shot two rounds at Blanka, both connected spritzing clouds of blood. She flopped back to the ground.
Just as I moved forward, the woman turned from the lorry’s front door toward me. She wore an ugly scowl, she brought up her pistol and let two rounds loose. One shot clipped my left arm. The other was at my head narrowly grazing my jawline.
Another two shots rang out, the first thudded into flesh jerking her forward. Another burst through the woman’s neck. She grabbed at the wound, blood spurting through her fingers. The menacing scowl turned to a look of disgust as she stumbled forward. She fell forward to the roof of the lorry’s cab, her expression slowly relaxing as the flow of blood ebbed away.
I splashed through the blood ducking through the opened door. The driver was still running forward. Blanka was on her back, her own Faust pistol was raised toward the woman. She was the one who ended her. I tossed one of the chocolates toward Blanka, who fumbled for it uselessly.
The driver saw me square off with him and he slowed to take a shot. I leveled two shots, the first blowing out his knee, sending him to the ground. The last took him right in the forehead. He unceremoniously dropped face first into the grass with a thud.
I looked ahead, catching sight, again, of a woman with a shock of white hair. She stood in the lights of the overturned Pegasus and then seemed to vanish. I shook off the vision and ran toward Blanka’s side. She was covered in scrapes, bruises, and blood. Cherry blossoms in her flesh showed the gunshots she’d taken. I broke multiple chocolates off and pressed them into her mouth one by one. She chewed, slowly. The motion itself seemed to be painful. While blood no longer flowed from the wounds, she was far from well.
Bjorn charged from behind the lorry. He turned the corner as I scooped up Blanka and started for the passenger car that was still idling with its lights on. He acted quickly, moving to the car and opening the rear driver side door. I lifted Blanka into the seat. She slumped to the side, slicking the rear bench with blood.
Bjorn’s breath was just getting under control. Sweat stood out on his forehead. I looked back to the forms lying on the ground a good distance from where we stood.
“I heard gunshots,” Bjorn said between breaths, “That way.”
He flagged to the East of us. Maurik and Elsbeth marched to the front and center of my mind.
“Damnit. We’ve got to get to them.”
“I’ve got something I need ta do.”
Bjorn strode forward, pulling a throwing axe from his belt. While he moved to the front, I ran to the back of the lorry. I retrieved the only other chocolate bar I saw and quickly collected the grenades into the small crate. I was getting used to the very Bjorn-inspired idea of keeping a grenade on me at all times. I carried out the crate and Bjorn gave me an approving nod from the driver’s seat.
The woman’s head had been severed and tossed to the floor of the passenger’s seat. Her eyes were open, slightly rolled back. That softened look of disgust was still there, too. Blood had dried across her cheek and lips like smeared makeup after a particularly bad night.
While it was particularly horrifying, it was all too fitting of an end.
“What’s this for?”
“A reminder ta trust myself. And be wary of liars.”
They do things very differently in Normandy.
As I sat, I reached back and squeezed Blanka’s knee. She looked spent; her gaze listless.
Bjorn grunted something about getting his axe from the field. I remembered my Toro was still out there, too. He turned the car back to bloodied forms on the airfield and pressed the gas.
Blanka spoke as we sped across the field.
“I was useless. I couldn’t do anything.”
“No. You are the reason we got out of there. Everything you did is why we’re still alive. You made it possible for us to evade. And you taking the lorry? I would have been dead for sure if you hadn’t done that.” I squeezed her knee again, “I’m alive, again, because of you.”
She wasn’t having it. Her eyes were glassy, tears forming as she stared out the window, biting back the pain and swallowing hard. We were going to have to talk when she wasn’t so vulnerable. She needed to understand how important her role was here. Right now, I was just happy she was alive.
Bjorn looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“Blanka.”
I watched her meet his gaze through the mirror.
“Shield maiden.”
I saw her jaw tense and her head inclined with his words. One of the tears fell in response. She wore it like a badge.
We stopped and both Bjorn and I hopped out and grabbed our weapons from the field. I looked at the Spitzers and the other enforcers. I shook my head in disgust.
I could hear the gunshots that Bjorn mentioned. A thin report carrying over the air. I holstered the gun and sprinted back to the car.
Another sound filled the air. Above I could see the lights of a large airship, its form filled the night sky, blocking out the stars. It looked like a commercial flight.
If that was the flight they were going to take us on, I wondered how they intended to get us on board. I took a mental note to look up the flight later and make a request for any record of ticket purchases.
We sped out of the airfield. Bjorn was taking corners at speed, setting the passenger car to squealing at points. I put my head out the window to listen for more gunshot reports. The flash of headlights in the streets below the highway showed us our quarry. A few gunshots rang out. Bjorn pulled from the highway, dropping toward the streets below.
I felt the head of the woman bouncing against my foot with each sharp turn. It was as if she was trying to get my attention from the afterlife. I felt a little bile rise up in my throat as the wobbling trophy looked up at me with her sightless eyes from the darkness.
The pursuit we watched wasn’t exactly fast, but prone to zig-zags to angle for better shots. The majority of gunshots were coming from the lead car, Bjorn’s Cab. Bjorn maneuvered the car in a straight line and leaned heavily into the gas.
“Take the wheel,” he bellowed.
“Wait. What?”
I fumbled for the wheel while Bjorn reached behind the seat and produced his battleaxe. His door swung open and he pulled himself up, stepping on the door frame. He took two steps then leapt into the air. The car rocked with his motion as he timed his impact with the chasing car. I saw the surprised look of the blonde driver.
‘The Hammer’ was being introduced to the axe.
A two-handed throw broke through the windshield and dug deep into the man’s chest. Bjorn landed on the hood, then used the impact to bounce up over the roof. I kept eyes on him as we drove past, watching as he tucked and rolled once when he hit the ground. He was back on his feet in split-second.
I forgot that I was holding the wheel. We rumbled off the paved road into rough grass. The car bucked for a moment until we rocked to a halt as the car stalled. Blanka groaned from the backseat.
“Sorry. Sorry.”
My stumbling apology was all I could get out. I’m sure I was wide-eyed. What Bjorn just did reaffirmed my respect for the man.
I shifted over to the driver’s seat and began to crank the engine. The engine resisted. I watched through the rear window to follow the action. The chasing car had also rumbled off to the side of the road and was high centered on a low stone fence. The driver side door was open. Maurik had spun the Desoto around and parked close to the scene. He leapt out and joined Bjorn in pursuit of the driver. Elsbeth was a little more methodical about her dismount, shutting the door behind her with a hurried walk.
The engine finally caught. I backed out and took the path they did up to a bare patch of road. Everyone stood around a single spot. I turned the vehicle toward the spot and let the lights bathe the area.
I stepped out of the vehicle and was hit with a strange medicinal smell. I scrunched my nose at it. I beckoned Elsbeth over.
“Elsbeth. Quickly. Blanka needs tending to. She’s in the back seat. She’s hurt.”
“You’re hurt. Let me take …”
I interrupted. More than anything, I wanted Elsbeth and Blanka to have a mutual respect. As it stands, working with each other in dire situations would allow them to rely on each other. At least, I hoped it would.
“No. I am fine. You can tend to me later. She needs you now.”
She paused, her expression was well guarded. She remained tight lipped and, after a moment, she nodded and moved past me to the rear seat.
I moved to where the headlights pierced the night. I could see where their bewilderment had set in. A clear bloodtrail that abruptly ended mid-stride. The medicinal smell persisted.
“What happened? Did you have eyes on him?”
Maurik shook his head. I could see Bjorn’s knuckles going white.
“I’ve seen this before.” Bjorn said through clenched teeth, “Men disappearing just like this. It is a Phantom Vest used to cross over the Bridge World.”
I studied his reaction. This was all new information to me. We needed to know what they were capable of and turn those advantages against them.
“No chance to follow him, then?” I shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. I’d hate to be the one to report on this mission. I doubt that they’re all that accepting of failure. And he has no idea what’s left of his team at the airfield.”
Maurik’s lumbering form turned to me.
“What happened, boss?”
“Let’s clean up here and I’ll tell you on the way back to the hotel,” I smirked at him, “You can take the passenger seat.”
*Summary:
The meeting with Angelica Bess was a ruse. The deception was Echelon’s attempt to draw out and capture SAC Bess.
The letter we received in the name of Bella Davor contained a considerably detailed disclosure around Echelon’s active campaign against Bella Davor as a way to give this request for a meeting some credibility. They unveiled her as, and I still can’t believe I’m saying this, a vampire. They disclosed the capture of another vampire that they were actively experimenting on. They described how all of her assets and property within Clovia were either seized or destroyed.
They spared no expense in laying the trap. We narrowly escaped the trap with injuries but no casualties. If things hadn’t worked out exactly as they had, we would likely have been captured and taken by airship to Clovian soil.
Echelon? They didn’t fare so well. Seven of their agents died with ‘The Hammer’ as the one remaining Echelon agent who narrowly escaped using a ‘bridge’ device.
Ultimately, the mission did yield more information. I was able to confirm that the vampire in Echelon’s hands has been eliminated and that Bella Davor is still actively fighting against the shadow organization. There may be a chance for an alliance, but it will be based on Bella’s own terms and a healthy amount of trust. Actively pursuing an alliance is unlikely, but we should keep the door open for the possibility.
