1 State of Grace Page 11

  Quincy stood in the middle of the room bent over a table. He had an excited, almost childlike look on his face as he poured a bright pink liquid out of a vial and onto the table. Wolf’s Shadow sight detected magic emanating from the potion. Rather than spill over the sides of the table, though, the mysterious liquid seemed to pile up and take form. Within a few seconds, it had transformed itself into a golden statue of an owl. Quincy cackled with pleasure and clapped his hands. The sight was hilarious. He was the stereotypical wizard – an old man with a long beard in a robe and a tall cap. Seeing him celebrate his success like an excited child tickled Wolf.

  “Birthday present for an ornithologist?” Wolf quipped.

  Quincy’s face lost its good humor, and he glared at Wolf.

  “Need I remind you, Shadow Six, you’re in the presence of a junior officer, and you might think about setting a good example for a change?”

  Wolf looked at Shadow Twenty-Seven. The two exchanged a smirk.

  “What is it, then?” Wolf asked.

  “If you must know, it’s a highly advanced spying device,” Quincy answered.

  “But how—” Shadow Twenty-Seven began.

  “Thought you’d never ask,” Quincy said, the smile returning to his face. “It comes in liquid form, which makes it easy to conceal. When you pour it out, it transforms into this innocuous statue, which can be placed easily in a room without notice. The statue then observes everything until it is removed, and then it tells you what you want to know.”

  “How does it tell you?” Wolf asked.

  The bird’s head suddenly turned completely around. It fixed Wolf with a glare.

  “How do you think I tell you, Moron? I open my beak and speak, just like you do. What? Do you think I’m stupid or something? And you,” it said, turning its attention to Quincy. “What’s with calling me innocuous? I oughta peck your nose off for that.”

  Quincy produced a wand quickly and tapped the bird on the head. It dissolved instantly into the pink liquid. Quincy gave them an embarrassed laugh.

  “It might need a little fine tuning,” he said.

  “You took the words right out of his beak,” Wolf quipped. Quincy glared at him again, but he didn’t make a comment this time.

  “Here now,” he said instead, “follow me.”

  He led the two Shadows over to a table that contained a file, a gold medallion, and a bottle made from what looked to be a gourd. He handed the file to Wolf.

  “Here’s the postmortem on Shadow Five’s death,” he said. “I’m afraid there’s not much to go on. As you know, she was mauled by some sort of animal. The unusual thing is there were no claw marks or any sign of blunt-force trauma on the body, aside from the broken bones and bruises from her fall from the horse she was riding. Her wounds appear to have been made only by teeth. Her back wasn’t broken, and we know from her sending her message to Kenderbrick she wasn’t unconscious at the time of the attack. Thus, it’s strange she should only have been torn apart by an animal’s mouth.”

  “Control mentioned you were looking into magical and Shadow angles,” Wolf said.

  “Yes,” Quincy replied. “I detected no evidence of magic having been used on her. There were residual traces of Shadow energy among all the wounds.”

  “You’re saying some sort of Shadow animal did this?” Shadow Twenty-Seven said.

  “We know of no such beings,” Quincy answered, “especially not in Alfar or Jifan. So far as we and the elves know, the only Shadow power that has made it across the Gleaming Sea is brought here by human Shadows. The Rift’s energies have not been able to penetrate either elfin country.”

  “Which means she was killed by a Shadow,” Wolf put in.

  “Not only that,” Quincy said. “She was killed by a human. No elf is known to possess Shadow powers. That seems to be a uniquely human trait.”

  Wolf pondered that. Why would Sara name Silverleaf if she was murdered by a human Shadow? It only made sense if Silverleaf was working with a human. He hated Urlanders, so it made no sense for him to be working with an Urlish Shadow. Could he be working in concert with a Phrygian? Wolf supposed that was possible, but what was the Phrygians’ angle on this? They could be trying to destabilize the region in their favor, but Wolf couldn’t see how they might accomplish that.

  For the moment, he let it go. There was too much to consider. He needed to focus on what he could know at the moment.

  “Here now,” Quincy said, “I’ve got some equipment for you.” He lifted the medallion off the table and passed it to Wolf.

  “This is a universal translator,” he said. “When you’re wearing it around your neck, it gives you the ability to speak and understand any language. You’ll automatically understand anything you hear. To speak, you simply think what language you want to converse in.”

  “What if I don’t know what language I’m hearing,” Wolf asked.

  “You’ll have to use your brain for a change and make an educated guess,” came the sharp reply. “I’ve engraved the medallion with your family crest, so it will look proper for you to be wearing it.”

  “How nice,” Wolf said, grimacing at the thought of again impersonating a recognized member of his family. He studied the medallion for a moment, and then put it around his neck. It was extremely light, but it still made him uncomfortable.

  “Now pay attention,” Quincy said, grabbing the gourd. “Due to the change in the ... climate here in Alfar, the sun has become poisonous to humans.”

  “Poisonous?” Wolf said.

  “Yes,” Quincy replied. “If you stay exposed to it too long you’ll get sick.”

  “Many of the fundamentalists claim this is a sign from God that humans are not welcome here and should leave,” Shadow Twenty-Seven commented. Wolf nodded.

  “Whether that’s true or not,” Quincy said, acting irritated by the interruption, “you need to protect yourself. This is a healing salve. You spread a small amount over your exposed skin. It will keep you from developing any symptoms.”

  “What are the symptoms?” Wolf was getting nervous.

  “Blistering, oozing sores, and severe nausea,” Shadow Twenty-Seven said. “My controller got it. You don’t want it. Nasty stuff.”

  “And you won’t get it if you apply this salve to your exposed skin once a day – twice if you’re going to be outdoors more than four hours. But don’t use too much. It’s very strong, and it can lead to intoxication and other mind-altering effects if you over-apply it. This jug should last you quite awhile, but if you need more, let Kenderbrick know.”

  “So the cure is almost worse than the disease, eh?” Wolf said. He was making a joke, but there was no humor in it. This mission was sounding worse by the second.

  “Oh, stop whining,” Quincy scolded. “Our soldiers use it with no ill effects. I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.

  “Now this I’m particularly proud of,” he said, leading them over to the carriage. “Proper transportation for an ambassador of Her Majesty’s government. Note the dragons at the corners on the top.”

  Wolf looked up and saw intricately carved dragon heads rising from each of the roof’s four corners. Their mouths were open in a snarl.

  “Each fires bolts of magical energy,” Quincy explained. “There are five shots per dragon, and they rotate forty-five degrees in either direction, giving you three hundred sixty degrees of protection. Just what you need to discourage highwaymen.

  “Inside,” Quincy said as he opened the door, “sumptuous accommodations.”

  Wolf peered inside the carriage and found Quincy to be right. The seats were plush and covered in velvet. It was roomy. There were pillows, and the benches were wide. He might even be able to sleep in there.

  “Now over here,” Quincy continued, “is your control panel. You access it by tapping the stone here like so.”

  He reached over and lightly tapped an emerald set into the wall of the carriage. When he did, part of the front wall opened and extended, revealing a
small lever, four knobs, and several more stones.

  “Turn the knobs to rotate the dragons,” Quincy explained. “When you have it in firing position, tap the stone over the corresponding knob.

  “This stone here—” he pointed to an amethyst “—fires a net from the back. Just the thing for tripping up pursuers.

  “Now, in the event they attack the horses, you press this stone here—” he indicated an opal “—which disengages the carriage from the harness. You then can use the lever to power the carriage so you can continue your flight or pursuit as the case may be. Push it forward to drive straight, backward to slow down or move in reverse, and one side or the other to turn. Got it?”

  “I think so,” Wolf said. He was feeling overwhelmed. This carriage was beyond his imagining.

  “Now, should you wish to remove an unwanted passenger from the cab, you push this button here or this one here.” Quincy pointed out small buttons set in the bench. “That will trigger the ejector seat, throwing your unwanted company out through the roof.”

  “You’re joking,” Wolf said. Quincy fixed him with a hard stare.

  “I never joke about my work, Shadow Six,” he said. “There’s a button on each side, so you can sit on either side of the carriage without worrying about not being able to use the ejector function. Questions?”

  Wolf had about a hundred, but he didn’t have time for any of them. Quincy’s briefing was making his head hurt, and he had a hard time envisioning using any of the fantastic carriage’s abilities other than its luxury.

  “No,” he said.

  “Good,” Quincy replied. “Now, you’re due in Al-Adan by nightfall. Kenderbrick will receive you at the safe house. Your driver, Charles, knows the location. You better get going. We’ve sent word of the attempt on your life, and the military brain trust there is quite concerned. Best not to keep them waiting.”

  Just then, there was a loud explosion and poof of yellow smoke. Wolf turned in its direction, startled by the sudden noise. When the cloud cleared there was a man with cat’s whiskers standing next to a woman with a bird’s beak and covered in feathers. The man looked very surprised.

  “Oh, blast,” Quincy cursed. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure, Dr. Quincy,” the man said. “I thought I measured the contents precisely.”

  The woman tried to yell at the man, but all she got out were some shrill squawks. When she realized she couldn’t speak, she burst into tears. Her sobs sounded ridiculous. Wolf did his best to suppress a smile.

  “All right,” Quincy said, sounding perturbed, “both of you go to the infirmary. I’ll be along shortly to sort you out.”

  The man put his hand on the girl’s shoulder to try to comfort her, but she shook it away from him and stalked off out of the cavern. The man followed glumly.

  “I’d say the cat won’t be getting the canary tonight,” Wolf said with a grin.

  “Oh, do be quiet,” Quincy said with another glare. “Now be careful, Shadow Six. I know you’ve risked your life many times for Her Majesty’s government, but this is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Al-Adan is much more dangerous than Mensch.”

  Wolf nodded. It was the second time today he’d received such a warning. This time, he took it seriously.

  “Good luck, Shadow Six,” Shadow Twenty-Seven said.

  “Thanks,” he replied.

  Wolf didn’t like what he was getting into. He was in over his head on a mission he didn’t fully understand in a place he’d twice been warned was deadlier than any he’d ever been. The situation was working against him. He needed some sort of edge.

  Fortunately, he had an idea how to get one. He might be due in Al-Adan tonight, but he wasn’t going to make that appointment. He had another stop in mind first. Silverleaf had invited him to his villa when they had last met. He intended to make good on that invitation. Wolf suspected the heart of this mission could be found there. Kenderbrick and Al-Adan were just going to have to wait.

  Chapter 13: Operation: Hammerfall

  (Three Months before Revelation Day)

  Boris Davidov was very happy to see Svetlana Markova. She had been gone for weeks on the undercover mission he assigned, and he was anxious to know what she found. The longer she was away, the more he feared there was something alarming between Ravager and this army general.

  “Good morning, Comrade Major,” she said, snapping a crisp salute as she always did.

  She was so beautiful – the luxurious blonde hair, the large breasts and narrow waist, the gleaming blue eyes. The truth was Boris was glad to see her for reasons that had nothing to do with his interest in her mission. He missed her while she was gone.

  He could never tell her that, of course. He could never pretend to be more than her superior. He enjoyed her friendship, her keen insight, and her attention to detail. He longed to spend time getting to know her better. But he could never do so. He was her superior. It would be unthinkable for them to share more than the occasional drink at the officers’ club. It would be unforgiveable to pursue the desires that often kept him awake at night.

  “Good morning, Shadowcat,” he said. “Please make your report.”

  “I have spent the past few weeks at Army Station 505, where General Tupelov’s units are headquartered. It took me some time to penetrate the security. Once I did, I discovered something called Operation: Hammerfall. Are you familiar with this initiative?”

  Boris searched his memory. The name wasn’t immediately known to him, but he tried to remember if he had been briefed on it as part of some other project. After a few moments, he concluded he hadn’t.

  “No,” he said.

  “I did not think so,” she said. “According to what I was able to ascertain, it is a joint Army-PDB program with operations in both Jifan and Alfar.”

  “But that’s impossible,” Boris said. “I am the ranking PDB officer in this territory. Any joint operation into Jifan would have to go through me.” He couldn’t decide if he was confused, worried, or angry.

  “As I suspected,” Shadowcat said. “Information on this program was spread across multiple files and categories. My impression was this was done to disguise the true nature of what is happening. Individually, the files contain information that does not appear to relate to anything else. If they are put together, though, a pattern emerges.”

  “Describe this pattern,” Boris said. Deep in his stomach, an uneasy feeling began to grow.

  “It’s difficult,” Shadowcat replied. “After examining the evidence, I am still not sure what I’ve found. However, there are numerous things that point towards an illegal or unapproved operation.

  “Fifteen percent of the PDB’s budget in this arena is being funneled to Shendali terrorists operating in Alfar.”

  “What?” Boris roared. Besides the fact that State policy expressly forbid funding the terrorists, he hadn’t approved such an expenditure. How had such a thing been accomplished without his approval? “What sort of funding?”

  “The reports were not clear, sir. They only showed the diversion.”

  “What else?” Boris asked. The feeling in his stomach grew stronger.

  “A large number of former soldiers has been deployed to Al-Adan,” she continued. “It is not clear what their purpose is there, and they are not listed as being on active duty. However, they do receive a stipend and are assigned directly to General Tupelov.”

  “Sleeper agents?”

  “That was my impression,” she answered. “But they are soldiers not spies. They do not seem to be typical sleeper agents. Moreover, since they are human and therefore not welcome in Alfar, it seems strange, since they would be unable to blend in effectively.”

  “Go on,” Boris prodded.

  “Ravager has been assigned to Al-Adan as a ‘special liaison’ to the Alfari government. There is no information on what exactly he does. However, he reports directly to General Tupelov.”

  “Why is General Tupelov in need of a special liaison to the
Alfari government?”

  “Again, I am not certain, Comrade Major,” Shadowcat said. “But there is more. The reports indicate there is an insider in the Alfari government. It is possible that Ravager is his contact.”

  Boris chewed on that thought for a moment. That was the most plausible explanation. It seemed Yevgeni Tupelov was running some sort of covert mission in Alfar that involved funding Shendali terrorists and working inside the Alfari coalition government. What was he up to? And how did he get authorization to do this? This should be a PDB initiative.

  “Do we have any idea what Operation: Hammerfall’s purpose is or when it is expected to launch?” he said.

  “I can only speculate on both accounts,” she said.

  “Do so.”

  “Hammerfall’s purpose is not clear, but it appears to be aimed at destabilizing the Alfari government. Whether this is being done to disrupt the relationship with Urland or weaken the Freyalan contingent in the coalition is unknown. It’s also not obvious how Phrygia benefits.

  “As for when it launches, I believe the operation is already active. Given that Ravager has been sighted repeatedly in Al-Adan and there is the mention of this insider, it is logical to suppose things are already in process.”

  Boris turned that over in his mind. She was right, of course. If this were all theoretical, Ravager would not be deployed, and there would not be these sleeper agents in Al-Adan. Whatever Operation: Hammerfall was, it was in motion.

  “We need to know what Operation: Hammerfall is,” he told her. “We must learn all about it and discover its purpose. I suspect that, by so doing, we will know why it is so secret, but if not, I want to know why the ranking officers in the PDB have been out of the loop.”

  “Da, Comrade Major,” Shadowcat said, snapping another of her trademark crisp salutes.

  “Svetlana,” he said. “Discuss this mission with no one. You are to report directly to me and to no one else. I am afraid Operation: Hammerfall is both illegal and unapproved by High Command. If either is the case, those behind it will do anything necessary to protect its secrets. Be very careful.”