Deadline Read online

  "Now just wait one minute," piped Izzy in the distance. "I demand to know what this is about."

  A neophyte priest was attempting to skirt around the pixie without making eye contact. "If you please, I have my orders."

  "And I have this jagged little wand, in case you need a reminder that we don't take orders from you."

  I caught myself before I laughed. "It's always something."

  "Aye," said the buildmaster general. "Looks like you're needed over there. I'll finish the rounds and coordinate with our allies. General Azzyrk's been fighting my ideas of unit formations."

  As I split away and headed for Izzy and the priest, I couldn't shake the feeling that Trafford got the easier task. "What's going on?" I asked the bickering pair.

  "Yes," agreed Izzy sharply. "I'd like to know."

  The neophyte cleared his throat. "Talon of Stronghold, his eminence summons you to the war tent."

  "Summons?" I growled. "That's a crusader war tent erected by acting members of the Black Hats. The catechists have no jurisdiction to commandeer it."

  The priest stuttered. "My orders—"

  "Don't apply to Black Hat leadership," I finished. "Izzy's a third of that leadership—"

  "The pixie is not summoned."

  "There's that word again." I sighed harshly. "I don't care what you catechists think of pagans and pixies and dragons. When you're in my camp you'll look her in the eye when you talk to her."

  Izzy groaned. "Don't tell him that. I kinda like his submissive puppy-dog act." She leaned close to the priest. "Avert your eyes. You're not worthy."

  The neophyte swallowed uncomfortably. "Yes. Perhaps summon is a strong word. Your presence is requested."

  Izzy smirked. "With a cherry on top?"

  "What?"

  Her voice flatlined. "Does the request come with a cherry on top?"

  The priest's eyes darted to me. He didn't understand the connotation. "Just say yes," I prodded.

  The neophyte met Izzy's eyes. "If it pleases my lady."

  "Better," she said, raising her hand and flicking her fingers. "You can scurry off now."

  The priest blinked, again looking to me for help. I nodded. He turned and ran away.

  I chuckled. "You're really not making this alliance thing easy, are you?"

  "Oh yeah, because they have a great love for all things pointy-eared."

  "Don't forget the breasts," I said. "They seem to hate those as well."

  She rolled her eyes. "What a bass-ackwards people. And they think the pagans and wildkins are primitive."

  "They sure are powerful though," I conceded. "And Vagram. I don't trust him enough to turn my back on him, but I swear there are times he almost seems noble."

  "Just not when he's sticking bronze swords in your chest."

  "Hey, Lucifer killed you before and we're on his side now. Things change."

  "I don't know," she said with a smirk. "You sure you're not just a sucker for blond hair and a cute face?"

  My head turned sharply. "You think he's cute?"

  She straightened as we approached the community tent—black, of course. The crusader standing guard saluted as we passed. I pushed in, ready to give Cleric Vagram a strong piece of my mind.

  The catechists at the war table all stood in deference to Bishop Tannen. I froze, surprised at the sight.

  Unlike Vagram, Tannen was a sickly man. Thin even before his captivity, he was bald and had veins running over his head and face. His sneer was accompanied by a set of tiny teeth that made him look more animal than human, and his long, clawlike fingers added to the comparison. The bishop wore steel plate covered by a white tunic with a gold cross. A tattered gold cape shimmered across his pauldrons. Notably missing were his helmet and gauntlets, which might have had a bit to do with us.

  "You've arrived," he said. His voice was as snively and villainy as ever. Golden eyes locked on Izzy. "All of you."

  "Is that a problem?" she asked gruffly.

  "Certainly not. Every able mind is welcome in these deliberations."

  A couple of crusader sergeants were in attendance but the rest were priests. Vagram stood unassumingly in the back of the tent, perhaps still getting used to giving up control.

  "What deliberations are those?" I asked.

  The bishop pushed away from the table. "Cleric Vagram has acted well in my stead. These alliances are unconventional, but we find ourselves shepherds without a flock. Compromises must be made."

  The subject of conversation remained stoic in the back. I blinked, unsure what to make of the whole thing. Bishop Tannen had assumed command of the catechists much sooner than I'd expected, and he was surprisingly even-tempered.

  Don't get me wrong, I trusted him far less than I trusted Vagram. Tannen likely viewed me as a disposable pawn on a chessboard. I had to proceed with caution.

  "I've been appraised of recent developments," he continued. "And future ones as well."

  "Meaning?"

  "The launch leader conditions," guessed Izzy.

  The bishop grinned. "Able minds. Yes. It's of great concern to be told a usurper may be given the permanent keys to our kingdom. One calling himself a god, no less. Tell me." The bishop stepped around the table and approached. "Is it true you're an acting vessel of the White King?"

  I peeked at Vagram. The man was more savvy than I'd given him credit for. How much did they know?

  "The saints are dead," I somberly relayed. "I've been tasked by Christian Everett to recover his kingdom."

  Some of the priests gasped at the truth. The CEO's real name somehow held meaning for them.

  Tannen studied me and nodded. "It is so. In the hands of the Trinity, the keys will be given to the White King."

  I was getting a bad feeling about where this conversation was headed.

  "What news of Shorehome? Can the town be saved?"

  Izzy crossed her arms defensively. "Liberated by allied forces last night."

  Knowing the priestship's opinions of pirates and goblins, I treaded cautiously by speaking in the abstract terms of the quests. "And the errant folk have been rallied."

  "It is His will," said the bishop. "All that remains before destroying the soulstones is Oakengard's glory. I have a strategy for that, and it little involves the army."

  I blinked back surprise. It was like he already knew my planned course of action. "The Black Army will meet the brunt of Hadrian's forces. I'll accompany a small scouting team past the battle to Oakengard."

  Bishop Tannen nodded. "Excellent. We should leave at once."

  "Wait a minute. I never said the catechists were going."

  The bishop lifted his nose high. "As I understand it, I'm the only living member of the original Trinity. If it is to be restored, I must have a hand in it."

  "Your alliance with us is enough."

  "Hardly. You plan on sneaking into my fortress and recovering the soulstones and trijewel, yes? We need to visit the fallen Trinity."

  "Why?" asked Izzy.

  "So I can bring Philosopher Mara and Hero Gent back from the dead."

  The tent went quiet at the statement. The catechists, originally the priest wing of the crusader faction, had great and terrible power. I'd seen dead knights push to their feet under their care. It wasn't healing and it wasn't necromancy—it was as if they'd never fallen.

  And it was undoubtedly a clear path to restoring the fractured Trinity.

  "I can't deny your point," I said.

  Izzy shook her head. "Are you sure you're not better off leading your priests on the battlefield? We can take other catechists with us to do the reincarnating."

  "Hardly," Tannen scoffed. "The White King bestows such lofty power to very few. Vagram has the gift. He'll attend as a backup, but I must be there too. I'm one third of the Trinity being restored. As for the army, Colonel Grimwart is a capable battlefield commander, as I'm sure is anyone else currently in place."

  Approaching voices came from outside the tent.

  "Is
he inside?"

  Dune pushed in followed by Caduceus. I tensed at her presence. She was, after all, in possession of Tannen's bishop helm.

  The ranger hurried to my side. "Bad news. Hadrian's army is marching for the Godsbog."

  "How does he know we're here?"

  All eyes in the tent searched for answers. "Maybe the Violet Order knights respawned after our little jailbreak," suggested Dune. "It's hard to keep secrets in a virtual world."

  "But they never spotted our full force."

  "Aren't near a hundred catechists enough?"

  Cleric Vagram spoke from the back of the tent. "The Whisperer has sent search parties before. He's never dispatched the entire army."

  "If this isn't the full might of Oakengard," said Dune, "we're in a lot of trouble."

  Bishop Tannen's eyes went sharp. "He knows we're here. We're surrounded by hundreds of pagans. All it takes is one to report us."

  "Hey," I said, "they're in the crosshairs too. You'll change your mind when you see them dying on the battlefield beside us."

  "Friends," cut in Vagram. "The means of Hadrian's intelligence matters little. The Violet Order is meeting us in the field. Are we not ready for them?"

  Izzy scoffed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but the choir boy's right. It was always going to come down to this. The real question is, why leave the safety of Oakengard to go on the offensive?"

  Dune chewed his lip. "Maybe they want to spare damage to the fortress?"

  Caduceus shrugged. "Take us by surprise? Divide us from the horde before we've organized into a cohesive unit?"

  I nodded along to the suggestions, all reasonable but none convincing. "There's gotta be more here. It's almost as if Hadrian prefers a fight."

  "It's quite possible Hadrian isn't aware of the launch leader conditions," said Izzy.

  "That's true, but I'm more concerned about what I saw in Oakengard when we freed Grimwart. The purple plague." I worked my jaw and turned to the collective crowd. "Hadrian's army isn't like other armies. His power can assimilate us. Take us captive. We need to make sure engaging him doesn't add our soldiers to his."

  "My order has been reciting protective prayers," said Tannen. "We're at full strength."

  Caduceus crossed her arms. "Fat lot of good that did for the captured priests on the Lake of Dreams."

  Tannen stood up straight. "Young lady, there are leagues of difference between beaten men in chains and those fighting on the battlefield with an army behind them. The White King will protect us."

  "Even many beaten men in chains fought off their power," added Vagram.

  "They're right," I said. "I witnessed Rygar turn. The process took the combined focus of two Oakengard keepers on a submissive subject. We can defend against the plague as long as we don't let our guards down." I held a stern finger to Tannen. "But your units will be spread out. We need to buff the Black Army equally as needed, which means protecting pagans."

  His featureless lips upturned. "Of course, Protector. My order will assist as needed. I leave the warfare dynamics to you. As it turns out, the approaching army is a blessing in disguise. We can skirt the Violet Order with a small force and breach Oakengard to get to the Trinity. We won't be expected."

  I worked my jaw. I preferred not taking the bishop along, but it was pretty much written into the quest. He had the best chance of restoring Mara and Gent, and he himself had a place on the shared throne.

  I flipped open the flap of the tent and gazed southward. Moving to Oakengard first thing hadn't been my intention, but it was a damn fine game-day adjustment. "Take Dune's party and go ahead without me. He's the best ranger out here. I'll coordinate with Bravo Team, already inside, and catch up to you later. But I'm gonna need you on the battlefield, Caduceus."

  "What?" she exclaimed.

  "What's the big idea?" asked Dune.

  I took a heavy breath. "You have certain... abilities," I told her. I pulled them out of the tent and lowered my voice. "You're the owner of the bishop helmet. With Tannen and Vagram infiltrating Oakengard, that artifact can do a lot of good, even if you aren't able to raise the dead. Unless you wanna hand your most powerful piece of gear to someone else?"

  She clenched her jaw and wore a sour face. "You don't want Tannen close to the helmet."

  "It's too powerful." Dune nodded. "It's a good point. You can do more good here."

  "I can definitely stomp more heads. Will you boys be okay without me?"

  Stigg was near but ignoring us. He bobbed his head, lips tight, eyes distant, no doubt listening to his heaviest thrasher metal, getting in the mood for what was coming.

  Dune nodded but I spoke. "They'll be escorting two of the most powerful priests in the sim, neither of whom can be fully trusted but, maybe, put together there's just enough goodwill there for us to pull through. What could go wrong?"

  We laughed nervously. Izzy pressed to my side. "And what about us?"

  She meant me and her, and there was no talking her into leaving my side. "We have a war to fight."

  >> Minigame <<<br />
  Tad Lonnerman opened his eyes. Daylight streamed through the windows. Sluggish senses tried to keep up with a scrambling brain. Tad had slept through the night.

  And what of Christian?

  The CEO was still, for the first time not working on his code integration. Tad leaned over and checked him. Still breathing. He let out a relieved breath. Despite just waking up, his heart was pounding a mile a minute. They were both still here, both still alive.

  Tad squinted out the window. The view from Christian's tall-tower office was stunning. Higher than most buildings. Across the street, snipers camped on the lower rooftop opposite. The police had the high-rise surrounded. Tad waved but the officers made no reaction. They couldn't see him through the reflective glass exterior.

  He checked the cameras next. Seattle PD had settled into the extended crisis. Officers in SWAT gear sipped coffee from Styrofoam cups and chatted during shift change. The bad guys were still posted inside, visible from the windows but well covered. The standoff had completely stalled.

  Tad wondered if anyone even knew they were up here anymore. Ramon would've helped them except he was a hostage. The firefighters he'd encountered through the debris had every reason to believe they were now hostages as well. Hell, the people on the floor of the lobby in zip ties were the ones that needed saving. The fortieth floor was an afterthought.

  Building that thought out further, besides having their hands full with the authorities, the InLink operatives were reluctant to breach the office. Doing so would trigger another gunfight, first above and then below. The illegal soldiers were just as trapped as they were.

  The thought dawned on Tad that he and Christian might actually pull this thing off. Today was the final hurrah of the beta test. The satellites would launch in the a.m. The CEO was patched up and appeared stable. All they needed to do was get through one last day.

  Tad clicked through the sequence of security feeds, leaving the building exterior and main lobby behind in favor of whatever popped up next in the sequence. Inner hallways, stairwells, Kablammy corridors. Several figures efficiently moved through the studio floor. Rogue soldiers.

  Tad's muscles went taut. "Christian, we have a situation."

  The CEO pushed to his side as if already awake and focused on the screen. His eyes were sharp even if clearly lacking rest.

  "It's the east wing of our studio," Tad said. "InLink snuck a small team inside for a stealth operation."

  "No," he said bitterly. He took over the keyboard and toggled through several cameras. "No, no, no. I've been so hyperfocused on my work I didn't fully consider how to defend it."

  Tad's brow furrowed. The operatives were scouring through QA computers. The cluster of workstations was unimportant but probably looked like a server farm or something with access to real data. "What are they up to?"

  Christian breathed as he contemplated. "A virus, probably. If they can't stop us from launching Haven,
compromising it would be an acceptable consolation prize."

  "But didn't they already upload their Trojan?"

  "They did, but combined with Talon's in-game actions and our patches, we've greatly limited its impact. Hadrian has somehow commandeered it to grow into a menace, but that's the extent of it. That's all the Trojan was designed to do: create chaos and force us to delay."

  Tad frowned and saw where this was going. "But a new virus..."

  "A new virus can be geared for anything: ransom, control... even total destruction." The CEO grunted and checked his bandage. "I'm bleeding again. Will you—?"

  Tad slid the paramedic case over and set aside new bandages and ointment. Christian pushed him away before he could provide medical assistance.

  "No, I need you to switch off the alternate server. Just like you did in the Bosom."

  Tad pulled away. "But that's in the east wing. Where the InLink operatives are."

  "You're not looking at the bigger picture. They haven't reached it yet, but eventually they'll find the server farm."

  "So? Just let them destroy it like Abbie did. With your backups spun up, Haven won't even experience downtime this go around."

  "They'll find the central hub, Tad. They'll have direct access to Haven. With our redundancy they wouldn't be able to delete it, but they could easily upload something malicious. I need this code integration to be pristine. If even a whiff of a new virus is lurking on the servers, the satellite sync at launch will compromise the sim. I can't risk losing it all in the final moments."

  Tad gulped. Going up against veteran gunmen was a dicey proposition. Even if he did manage to shut the servers down, that would only redouble InLink's efforts to get to them in Christian's office. Their seeming ceasefire would evaporate as InLink grew more desperate.

  "If we're holding all the cards in this office," said Tad grimly, "they'll come at us hard."

  The CEO nodded. "That becomes more true the nearer we come to launch. InLink is very close to getting everything they want. If we shut down the alternate servers and contain the simulation to my office, with any luck, it will give the operatives enough pause to save Haven."