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Chapter 22
The C-130 and its crew had already staged forward to Incirlik in Turkey and were running the preflight checks for the mission when a corporal arrived with a message form. “Captain Sterling? I need you to sign for Flash traffic.”
The bat scrawled her initials and took the message. 'Give me a mirror-call ASAP. Diviner.' She shook her head. “Now what?”
Maximilian looked over at her. “Something new for the mission, I'll bet.”
“Maybe. Gimme five minutes.” She darted out of the airplane on her own wings and found a bathroom with a mirror. It was the work of only a minute to set up the spell, and a moment later, her reflection faded into an image of the NSA Director. “What's up, Janet?”
“A quick addition to the mission. I need an LZ scouted. It's about twelve miles north of the village, one of Saddam's old bunkers from back during the Gulf Wars.” She rattled off the coordinates. “There's also five Changeling refugees there that I've promised to bring out if they want to come. See if there's a place you can land the Hercules the next time you go in, or if not, see if we could get a helicopter in.”
“I can't fly a helo, Janet. Getting one through the air defense belt would be tricky without my abilities, and it's not like switching from a fighter to a heavy. They're a whole different skill set. Although...”
“What?”
“What about an Osprey? How much weight are we talking about? I can handle an Osprey in level flight.”
“I'll find out. Check for LZ's, though.”
“Roger that. And now I need to get back to preflighting.”
“Good luck, then. Call me when you get back.”
“Will do.”
Maximilian nodded as she returned. “Change to the mission profile?”
“Nothing too serious. We're supposed to check out a spot about twelve miles north of the drop zone for suitability for V/STOL landings. Part of a follow-up mission, apparently. Although the -first- question was to ask if you could set a Hercules down somewhere in the desert.”
“Someone's been watching movies again?”
Sterling ticked off another item on the checklist before responding. “Not quite that bad. But there's some people that they want to bring out as soon as possible and they want someone who's got a clue to do a look-see and find out if it's possible to do it with aircraft.”
“The Herk is rough-field capable. Probably better to try on the desert than on a roadway near the town anyway. There's always signs and power poles and other rubbish near the roads. Still, a helo would be easiest.”
“Except I can't fly one, and they're talking about using me again. I suggested using an Osprey if they need me to get it into the area.”
“That one's got short legs, though. We'd definitely have to stage through Turkey again, and the Turks get antsy if they think we're taking advantage of them.”
Gilbert chuckled. “Erdogan is more squirrely than antsy, you ask me. With apologies to the squirrels.”
Sterling shrugged. “We can get a carrier as close as Incirlik is. An Osprey can use that as a base. But whether or not to risk upsetting the Turks is a bit above our paygrade, Colonel.” She returned her attention to the preflight. “Ready for power.”
“Check. Ready to start Number One engine?”
“Preheat done. Oil pressure steady. Ready to start Number One...”
* * * *
The initial leg of the flight was routine, moving east from Incirlik across Turkey. Half an hour into the flight, Maximilian turned to his copilot. “And now we get to see what you can do, Captain. We're away from local radar coverage, but if we turn toward the border, we'll pick up a lot. You sure you can keep us hidden from them?”
“Piece of cake. My plane, Lieutenant Colonel?”
“Your plane, Captain. Keep us covert, ascend to twelve thousand feet and turn to a heading of one-sixty.”
Sterling nodded. “Roger. Ascend to twelve kay, heading one-six-zero.” The turboprop engines barely noticed the additional load as the plane climbed to clear the border mountains.
Gilbert watched the electronic countermeasures panel as they climbed. “Radar approaching detection threshold.” The Hercules continued to climb, passing ten thousand feet. “Radar at detection. If this doesn't work, we should be getting a call from someone any moment...” The radio stayed quiet. “And we are well above threshold now for the Turkish systems, starting to pick up Syrian air defense radar. No lock-ons. Sweeping radar only.”
Sterling smiled. “And this is why they call me Shadow.” The Hercules continued to move through the border radar zone, listening to the air traffic controllers going about routine business but never challenging or even mentioning the cargo plane.
Maximilian shook his head. “I'm seeing it, and I still don't believe it. The Herk's a good bird, but she's about as stealthy as a flock of seagulls on crack. How are you doing this?”
The bat shrugged. “I can't really describe it. I just can. If I don't want to be found, no one can find me.”
Gilbert continued to watch the gauges. “Radar intensity dropping off now, pretty rapidly. Most of the coverage is aimed at the border, not away from it, I'd say.”
“That made sense before their civil war. I suspect no one thought about changing it. The ISIL people don't seem to have much in the way of an air force anyway.”
Maximilian nodded. “And now we descend so we're at a proper height for delivery when we get to this Al Suwar place. Still a few hills on the way there, though. Gradual descent to eight thousand.”
“Descending at one hundred per minute to eight kay, aye...”
The aircraft flew on through the desert night. Another twenty minutes brought them to the vicinity of the little town that was somehow pivotal in Diviner's vision of nuclear disaster, and Sterling turned the plane onto the heading directed by the human. Maximilian toggled the intercom switch. “Nearly there, Sergeant. Ready to drop in five minutes.” He turned back to Sterling. “My plane for now, Captain.”
“Your plane, Colonel.” The bat released the controls as Maximilian took over again. The Hercules steadied on course along the desert highway, barely above the height of the power lines, and the ramp at the rear of the aircraft lowered. The loadmaster and his assistants finished their final checks and
then released cargo.
Everything had been quiet. Ibrahim shivered in the chill night air, but Sayeed had tapped him to take charge of the observers waiting for the promised delivery and he had to set a good example for the others. For just a moment something seemed odd, as if one of the bright stars had blinked in and out of existence, but the sky looked normal when he stared up at the heavens. He shrugged and went back to watching.
Three minutes later, he nearly panicked as the roaring shriek of four nearby turboprop engines filled the night. <How!? It is as if it suddenly appeared in flight!> There had been no hint of an aircraft, and yet there it was, racing along the main highway, seemingly low enough to touch as it went past. Parachutes blossomed behind it, each one tugging a huge wrapped bundle out of the rear of the plane and slamming it into the road. One after another, the bundles boomed their arrival into the night, and then the plane's noise vanished as if it had never been, the only sign it had ever existed the six pallets sitting on the highway and the fading echoes of their arrival.
Maximilian smiled. “A textbook run, if I do say so myself.”
Sterling chuckled. “I'm not going to argue with you. Next we swing a little to the north and see if there's a good landing spot for an Osprey out there somewhere, and then we head back to base.”
Sayeed met Ibrahim halfway to the drop zone. “What happened? There was a plane nearby for a few minutes, and then it was gone again, but I did not hear it approach or leave. Did you see anything, Ibrahim?”
“It is as you said, Captain. There was nothing, then the plane was suddenly there. It dropped six pallets of supplies and then vanished into thin air. It was as if a djinn had used an American jet to deliver a wish. I left the others to guard them, and came to find you.”
“And so you have. Let us go see what this treasure is that has been dropped from the skies.”
* * * *
Dawn was lighting up the eastern sky when he returned to the village. Isam was waiting for him with another message.
To: Militia Captain Sayeed Kharam
From: Your American Friend
To reassure you that young Isam is not making these up - no, we did not have a djinn deliver the plane to your village. The method we used is unfortunately somewhat limited. We can deliver more material to you, but only one plane-load per night. I regret that we have no way to deliver armored vehicles, but if you have a crew to operate it we might be able to manage a small artillery piece and some ammunition. I doubt that we could get you enough to make it worthwhile, since this would be at the expense of an entire night's delivery of other items, but it can be done if you feel it would help. Let us know what your needs are.
Our best estimate is that you have at least two weeks before the Islamic State's enforcers arrive. We have only the one pilot who can deliver the way you have seen, so this will mean between ten and a dozen loads. Please let us know as quickly as possible what you would like to have.
Sayeed looked at Isam. “This is truly sorcery, for them to know what we say even as we say it.”
Isam nodded. “They do not pretend otherwise, sir. They claim that the devices they have made that use electricity will soon stop working, and that other ones using sorcery will have to replace them. The discussion among their technical people suggests, however, that what they are doing is no more sorcery than gasoline and electricity are. The words are distinct in English, actually. -Salah- translates into several different words in their language, and the meaning of gaining power by trafficking with demons is not what they are doing.”
Sayeed shrugged. “That is a matter for Imam Basir to decide, Isam. For now, however they are delivered, rifles and mortars are not themselves the product of dark magic and we can accept them on that basis. Tell our benefactors that our greatest need is some heavy mortars and ammunition for them, rifle ammunition second, machine guns and ammunition third. A pallet or two of medical supplies would be useful as well. Thank them for the thought of a howitzer, but we do not have a crew for it. Mortars we can use.”
“I shall pass that on, Captain. Assuming they are not listening to us right now.”
Sayeed looked around, momentarily paranoid, then shrugged. “If they can do that, they probably know our military needs as well as I do. They did supply rifles that match what we already have rather than a different model with different ammunition needs... and we can find a use for whatever they can send us.”
Sterling returned command of the Hercules to Maximilian while flying down a deserted mountain valley well past the Turkish-Syrian border. She grinned at him. “And we are back among the visible, Colonel. Was the flight as interesting as you'd hoped?”
Maximilian chuckled. “Interesting is not something we strive for on cargo delivery flights, Captain. But it was certainly a unique experience.”
“We'll probably be doing this again. Now that we've plotted a landing site for a V/STOL, though, I'll be going in with an Osprey crew soon; you'll have that night off.”
“What's so important about going in and landing? The Osprey's not going to carry nearly as much as we can.”
“But it -can- bring something -out-. I'm not sure what it's going to be yet myself. My contact at NSA has hinted that there are some refugees, though. Might be rescuing some Changelings or a magician who had the misfortune to be trapped in an Islamic area – but don't quote me on that.”
“Our orders for all of this are stamped Top Secret anyway, Captain. I'm not likely to be telling anyone about it for a while, no matter what it turns out to be.”
“True. I do know that this is from the top. I happen to be friends with the NSA Director, and she's the one running this operation.”
Roberts whistled his appreciation for that tidbit. “Could be a lot of things, then. And all of them Burn Before Reading level stuff, I'd bet.”
“Knowing her, yeah. So don't ask, and I won't have to tell you I can't tell you.”
“We're going to bring out WHAT?”
“You heard me correctly, Shadow. Three of Saddam's missing nukes, and four or five snake-changelings. You'll be taking off from the Iwo Jima off the coast of Lebanon and returning there as well. We don't want-”
Sterling interrupted. “We don't want nukes anywhere near anyone in the region, do we? Allies or not.”
“Not if we can help it. No leaks, especially not to the Turks or the Greeks.”
“So we put the supply flights on hiatus for a couple days while I ferry myself out to the carrier and take them in?”
“Pretty much. The important thing is to get the bombs away from ISIL. Helping out the villagers is just a nice side-benefit.”
“Anyone willing to take on ISIL deserves all the help we can get them, Diviner.”
“No argument. But the nukes are even more important than that. If ISIL once gets hold of them, we risk losing a city.”
Sterling nodded. “Yeah. Can't argue your priorities.”
Lowe sighed. “There are times when I wish I wasn't an Immortal. Or that I worked with cold or plants or something other than precognition. I get to see the disasters happen, even when we eventually prevent them. I'd be prematurely gray if I wasn't immune to it.”
“We're here to help people, Janet. I was told that back at the beginning, but He never promised it would be easy.”
“And a good thing, that. It would have been a lie.” The wolf shook her head. “Someone's got to do it, I suppose. And there aren't many that I would trust with my abilities even if I -could- give them away. I just remember all the legends where foreknowledge didn't let the heroes change a thing, but just let them know it would all end in disaster and that there was no way to avoid it.”
“So ask Thor about it. That sort of thing was always a feature of the Scandinavian myths. See if the Wyrd was as bad as the stories make it out to be.”
“I'll probably do that, sooner or later. I just hope Wagner didn't get things right.”
“Well, aside from some of the music. Always did like Ride of the Valkyries.”
Lowe chuckled. “So did I until I started understanding German. The libretto is cartoonish. These days I have to stick with the instrumental versions.”
Sterling broke into a chorus of “Kill da Wabbit!” Lowe rolled her eyes and waited until the bat broke into giggles and recovered her composure. “Sorry. Couldn't resist. I'll start making preparations and get a quick refresher on the Osprey. Get the orders sent out as quick as you can. I assume I'm taking some Marines in?”
“Or maybe Seals. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Sterling blanked her mirror and just shook her head. “Nukes. Hanging was too good for Saddam...”
USS Iwo Jima, LHD-7
Eastern Mediterranean Sea, 34 52' N, 35 07' E
Chief Petty Officer Lewis Jefferson nodded to the other members of Seal Team Four as he arrived in the briefing room. He and Sean 'Doc' Nichols were the only Changeling members of the team at the moment, which made them the preferred scouts when they went in together. He settled in next to the polar bear and brushed back the mane that he kept as long as regulations allowed to avoid snarky remarks about lionesses. “Any scuttlebutt on what this one is all about?”
Sean shook his head. “Not a peep. Everyone's got an idea, and nobody really knows sh--. But we oughtta be finding out soon now. They brought in an Osprey this morning. Kinda hints that they've got something unusual in the works.”
The lion-morph scowled. “F--- me. Why would they be using one of -those- things instead of a Stallion?”
The bear shrugged. “I'm sure some REMF has a reason. Let's hope the pilot knows how to keep one in the air.”
Both of them turned abruptly at the response that came from thin air beside them. “They do, and she does, Chief.” The bat was somehow suddenly -there-, even though they all would have sworn that the compartment was empty aside from the team, and the junior man at the door belatedly called “Attention on deck!” as he noticed her.
“At ease.” Sterling made her way to the front of the compartment, suppressing a grin at the astonishment of the elite commando team at being surprised by a mere pilot. She tapped a wingclaw on the lectern and waited for them to settle down while she picked up a wooden pointer – the LED 'laser' ones were starting to malfunction. “Thank you. As you just saw, I can be very hard to notice. I can extend that to an entire plane if I want to. So to answer Chief Jefferson's question, that is why an Osprey rather than a Sea Stallion. The mission requires a great deal of stealth. While I can provide that, I do have to be flying the aircraft in question, and I'm not qualified as a helo pilot.” She nodded to the petty officer by the hatch. “If you'll hit the lights?” The compartment went dark as he flicked the switch, and the screen behind her lit up as she activated the projector. “Our mission is fairly straightforward, and if it all goes as planned, I could probably pull it off with a newbie squad of shore patrol pukes. But in case it hits the fan, I'll be much happier having you along instead.” The Seal team chuckled at that. “So...” The first slide came up, showing an aerial view of a desert canyon with some overlaid markings. “We will be heading deep into Syria, to the far edge of ISIL-held territory. NSA has located one of Saddam Hussein's old bunkers – it seems that he -did- make arrangements to store things outside his territory. We are going in to pull out the three nuclear warheads he hid there back during Desert Storm, and evacuate the family of refugees that found them before ISIL notices them. I will be flying the aircraft and maintaining full stealth while we travel, so we will not need an escort. We will be landing in this clear space, approximately fifty yards from the concealed entrance here--”
One of the humans put a hand up. “Ma'am?”
“Yes, Senior Chief?”
“How solid is this intelligence?”
The bat grinned. “As near one hundred percent as you can get, Senior Chief. Surveillance has been done with both satellites and scrying techniques, and the jihadis hate anything 'magical'...” - she wiggled her fingerclaws in air quotes - “...enough to have neglected developing countermeasures for it. It's straight from the top, and I know the people who worked it up personally. It's the real thing.”
“Thank you, ma'am. It'd be nice for the intel people to get it right for once.” Another chuckle went around the room.
Sterling nodded. “Amen to that. I'm hoping this'll be the one to start a new trend. As I was saying, the entrance is concealed as a cave – probably -was- a natural cleft in the rock to start with, for that matter – which goes back another fifty yards or so to the first door...”
“Yasmina?” The young snake-changeling looked up as the doorway once again showed an image from the other side of the world. “Tonight is the night. My friend shall arrive at midnight with an airplane and a squad of soldiers to rescue you.”
“Prophetess! Blessings be upon you!” She smiled at the wolf. “Mother shall be glad to hear it. She has told me that she has heard airplanes while she was hunting, and wondered if they were yours.”
“They might have been. The one that has been sent before cannot land for you, though. Tonight's will be one that can. Stay in your den until the soldiers come to get you, though. The plane itself can be dangerous if you are too close while it is landing.” Lowe paused. “Where is your mother?”
“Keeping watch. The villagers sometimes come to search for us, and she has heard trucks as well. She wants to be sure they are not nearby when you come for us.”
The wolf frowned. “As long as she is not spotted herself.”
The snake-girl grinned, and curled herself up near the doorway to display her patterns. “We blend into the desert even without magic. They haven't been able to track her yet.”
“As long as it stays that way for one last day. Have you told your younger sisters what to expect? The last thing we need is panicky kits when we're trying to get everything loaded up.”
“I have, milady. Would you like to talk to them yourself? I can wake them...”
“Let them rest. They will need to be awake tonight. I will speak with you all in person in a few days. Tonight, expect an airplane that lands like a helicopter. It looks like this.” She held up a photograph of the Osprey for the girl to look at. “The pilot is a bat, and one of the soldiers is a lion. If that is not who you see, stay hidden.”
“It shall be as you say, Prophetess. In'sh'allah!”
“In'sh'allah, Yasmina. Until tonight.” She broke the connection. “Whether Allah wills this or not, my young sorceress, -I- will it.” She hit 'send' on the email she'd already prepared. “No deliveries tonight, Sayeed. Best you stay at home.”
The C-130 and its crew had already staged forward to Incirlik in Turkey and were running the preflight checks for the mission when a corporal arrived with a message form. “Captain Sterling? I need you to sign for Flash traffic.”
The bat scrawled her initials and took the message. 'Give me a mirror-call ASAP. Diviner.' She shook her head. “Now what?”
Maximilian looked over at her. “Something new for the mission, I'll bet.”
“Maybe. Gimme five minutes.” She darted out of the airplane on her own wings and found a bathroom with a mirror. It was the work of only a minute to set up the spell, and a moment later, her reflection faded into an image of the NSA Director. “What's up, Janet?”
“A quick addition to the mission. I need an LZ scouted. It's about twelve miles north of the village, one of Saddam's old bunkers from back during the Gulf Wars.” She rattled off the coordinates. “There's also five Changeling refugees there that I've promised to bring out if they want to come. See if there's a place you can land the Hercules the next time you go in, or if not, see if we could get a helicopter in.”
“I can't fly a helo, Janet. Getting one through the air defense belt would be tricky without my abilities, and it's not like switching from a fighter to a heavy. They're a whole different skill set. Although...”
“What?”
“What about an Osprey? How much weight are we talking about? I can handle an Osprey in level flight.”
“I'll find out. Check for LZ's, though.”
“Roger that. And now I need to get back to preflighting.”
“Good luck, then. Call me when you get back.”
“Will do.”
Maximilian nodded as she returned. “Change to the mission profile?”
“Nothing too serious. We're supposed to check out a spot about twelve miles north of the drop zone for suitability for V/STOL landings. Part of a follow-up mission, apparently. Although the -first- question was to ask if you could set a Hercules down somewhere in the desert.”
“Someone's been watching movies again?”
Sterling ticked off another item on the checklist before responding. “Not quite that bad. But there's some people that they want to bring out as soon as possible and they want someone who's got a clue to do a look-see and find out if it's possible to do it with aircraft.”
“The Herk is rough-field capable. Probably better to try on the desert than on a roadway near the town anyway. There's always signs and power poles and other rubbish near the roads. Still, a helo would be easiest.”
“Except I can't fly one, and they're talking about using me again. I suggested using an Osprey if they need me to get it into the area.”
“That one's got short legs, though. We'd definitely have to stage through Turkey again, and the Turks get antsy if they think we're taking advantage of them.”
Gilbert chuckled. “Erdogan is more squirrely than antsy, you ask me. With apologies to the squirrels.”
Sterling shrugged. “We can get a carrier as close as Incirlik is. An Osprey can use that as a base. But whether or not to risk upsetting the Turks is a bit above our paygrade, Colonel.” She returned her attention to the preflight. “Ready for power.”
“Check. Ready to start Number One engine?”
“Preheat done. Oil pressure steady. Ready to start Number One...”
* * * *
The initial leg of the flight was routine, moving east from Incirlik across Turkey. Half an hour into the flight, Maximilian turned to his copilot. “And now we get to see what you can do, Captain. We're away from local radar coverage, but if we turn toward the border, we'll pick up a lot. You sure you can keep us hidden from them?”
“Piece of cake. My plane, Lieutenant Colonel?”
“Your plane, Captain. Keep us covert, ascend to twelve thousand feet and turn to a heading of one-sixty.”
Sterling nodded. “Roger. Ascend to twelve kay, heading one-six-zero.” The turboprop engines barely noticed the additional load as the plane climbed to clear the border mountains.
Gilbert watched the electronic countermeasures panel as they climbed. “Radar approaching detection threshold.” The Hercules continued to climb, passing ten thousand feet. “Radar at detection. If this doesn't work, we should be getting a call from someone any moment...” The radio stayed quiet. “And we are well above threshold now for the Turkish systems, starting to pick up Syrian air defense radar. No lock-ons. Sweeping radar only.”
Sterling smiled. “And this is why they call me Shadow.” The Hercules continued to move through the border radar zone, listening to the air traffic controllers going about routine business but never challenging or even mentioning the cargo plane.
Maximilian shook his head. “I'm seeing it, and I still don't believe it. The Herk's a good bird, but she's about as stealthy as a flock of seagulls on crack. How are you doing this?”
The bat shrugged. “I can't really describe it. I just can. If I don't want to be found, no one can find me.”
Gilbert continued to watch the gauges. “Radar intensity dropping off now, pretty rapidly. Most of the coverage is aimed at the border, not away from it, I'd say.”
“That made sense before their civil war. I suspect no one thought about changing it. The ISIL people don't seem to have much in the way of an air force anyway.”
Maximilian nodded. “And now we descend so we're at a proper height for delivery when we get to this Al Suwar place. Still a few hills on the way there, though. Gradual descent to eight thousand.”
“Descending at one hundred per minute to eight kay, aye...”
The aircraft flew on through the desert night. Another twenty minutes brought them to the vicinity of the little town that was somehow pivotal in Diviner's vision of nuclear disaster, and Sterling turned the plane onto the heading directed by the human. Maximilian toggled the intercom switch. “Nearly there, Sergeant. Ready to drop in five minutes.” He turned back to Sterling. “My plane for now, Captain.”
“Your plane, Colonel.” The bat released the controls as Maximilian took over again. The Hercules steadied on course along the desert highway, barely above the height of the power lines, and the ramp at the rear of the aircraft lowered. The loadmaster and his assistants finished their final checks and
then released cargo.
Everything had been quiet. Ibrahim shivered in the chill night air, but Sayeed had tapped him to take charge of the observers waiting for the promised delivery and he had to set a good example for the others. For just a moment something seemed odd, as if one of the bright stars had blinked in and out of existence, but the sky looked normal when he stared up at the heavens. He shrugged and went back to watching.
Three minutes later, he nearly panicked as the roaring shriek of four nearby turboprop engines filled the night. <How!? It is as if it suddenly appeared in flight!> There had been no hint of an aircraft, and yet there it was, racing along the main highway, seemingly low enough to touch as it went past. Parachutes blossomed behind it, each one tugging a huge wrapped bundle out of the rear of the plane and slamming it into the road. One after another, the bundles boomed their arrival into the night, and then the plane's noise vanished as if it had never been, the only sign it had ever existed the six pallets sitting on the highway and the fading echoes of their arrival.
Maximilian smiled. “A textbook run, if I do say so myself.”
Sterling chuckled. “I'm not going to argue with you. Next we swing a little to the north and see if there's a good landing spot for an Osprey out there somewhere, and then we head back to base.”
Sayeed met Ibrahim halfway to the drop zone. “What happened? There was a plane nearby for a few minutes, and then it was gone again, but I did not hear it approach or leave. Did you see anything, Ibrahim?”
“It is as you said, Captain. There was nothing, then the plane was suddenly there. It dropped six pallets of supplies and then vanished into thin air. It was as if a djinn had used an American jet to deliver a wish. I left the others to guard them, and came to find you.”
“And so you have. Let us go see what this treasure is that has been dropped from the skies.”
* * * *
Dawn was lighting up the eastern sky when he returned to the village. Isam was waiting for him with another message.
To: Militia Captain Sayeed Kharam
From: Your American Friend
To reassure you that young Isam is not making these up - no, we did not have a djinn deliver the plane to your village. The method we used is unfortunately somewhat limited. We can deliver more material to you, but only one plane-load per night. I regret that we have no way to deliver armored vehicles, but if you have a crew to operate it we might be able to manage a small artillery piece and some ammunition. I doubt that we could get you enough to make it worthwhile, since this would be at the expense of an entire night's delivery of other items, but it can be done if you feel it would help. Let us know what your needs are.
Our best estimate is that you have at least two weeks before the Islamic State's enforcers arrive. We have only the one pilot who can deliver the way you have seen, so this will mean between ten and a dozen loads. Please let us know as quickly as possible what you would like to have.
Sayeed looked at Isam. “This is truly sorcery, for them to know what we say even as we say it.”
Isam nodded. “They do not pretend otherwise, sir. They claim that the devices they have made that use electricity will soon stop working, and that other ones using sorcery will have to replace them. The discussion among their technical people suggests, however, that what they are doing is no more sorcery than gasoline and electricity are. The words are distinct in English, actually. -Salah- translates into several different words in their language, and the meaning of gaining power by trafficking with demons is not what they are doing.”
Sayeed shrugged. “That is a matter for Imam Basir to decide, Isam. For now, however they are delivered, rifles and mortars are not themselves the product of dark magic and we can accept them on that basis. Tell our benefactors that our greatest need is some heavy mortars and ammunition for them, rifle ammunition second, machine guns and ammunition third. A pallet or two of medical supplies would be useful as well. Thank them for the thought of a howitzer, but we do not have a crew for it. Mortars we can use.”
“I shall pass that on, Captain. Assuming they are not listening to us right now.”
Sayeed looked around, momentarily paranoid, then shrugged. “If they can do that, they probably know our military needs as well as I do. They did supply rifles that match what we already have rather than a different model with different ammunition needs... and we can find a use for whatever they can send us.”
Sterling returned command of the Hercules to Maximilian while flying down a deserted mountain valley well past the Turkish-Syrian border. She grinned at him. “And we are back among the visible, Colonel. Was the flight as interesting as you'd hoped?”
Maximilian chuckled. “Interesting is not something we strive for on cargo delivery flights, Captain. But it was certainly a unique experience.”
“We'll probably be doing this again. Now that we've plotted a landing site for a V/STOL, though, I'll be going in with an Osprey crew soon; you'll have that night off.”
“What's so important about going in and landing? The Osprey's not going to carry nearly as much as we can.”
“But it -can- bring something -out-. I'm not sure what it's going to be yet myself. My contact at NSA has hinted that there are some refugees, though. Might be rescuing some Changelings or a magician who had the misfortune to be trapped in an Islamic area – but don't quote me on that.”
“Our orders for all of this are stamped Top Secret anyway, Captain. I'm not likely to be telling anyone about it for a while, no matter what it turns out to be.”
“True. I do know that this is from the top. I happen to be friends with the NSA Director, and she's the one running this operation.”
Roberts whistled his appreciation for that tidbit. “Could be a lot of things, then. And all of them Burn Before Reading level stuff, I'd bet.”
“Knowing her, yeah. So don't ask, and I won't have to tell you I can't tell you.”
“We're going to bring out WHAT?”
“You heard me correctly, Shadow. Three of Saddam's missing nukes, and four or five snake-changelings. You'll be taking off from the Iwo Jima off the coast of Lebanon and returning there as well. We don't want-”
Sterling interrupted. “We don't want nukes anywhere near anyone in the region, do we? Allies or not.”
“Not if we can help it. No leaks, especially not to the Turks or the Greeks.”
“So we put the supply flights on hiatus for a couple days while I ferry myself out to the carrier and take them in?”
“Pretty much. The important thing is to get the bombs away from ISIL. Helping out the villagers is just a nice side-benefit.”
“Anyone willing to take on ISIL deserves all the help we can get them, Diviner.”
“No argument. But the nukes are even more important than that. If ISIL once gets hold of them, we risk losing a city.”
Sterling nodded. “Yeah. Can't argue your priorities.”
Lowe sighed. “There are times when I wish I wasn't an Immortal. Or that I worked with cold or plants or something other than precognition. I get to see the disasters happen, even when we eventually prevent them. I'd be prematurely gray if I wasn't immune to it.”
“We're here to help people, Janet. I was told that back at the beginning, but He never promised it would be easy.”
“And a good thing, that. It would have been a lie.” The wolf shook her head. “Someone's got to do it, I suppose. And there aren't many that I would trust with my abilities even if I -could- give them away. I just remember all the legends where foreknowledge didn't let the heroes change a thing, but just let them know it would all end in disaster and that there was no way to avoid it.”
“So ask Thor about it. That sort of thing was always a feature of the Scandinavian myths. See if the Wyrd was as bad as the stories make it out to be.”
“I'll probably do that, sooner or later. I just hope Wagner didn't get things right.”
“Well, aside from some of the music. Always did like Ride of the Valkyries.”
Lowe chuckled. “So did I until I started understanding German. The libretto is cartoonish. These days I have to stick with the instrumental versions.”
Sterling broke into a chorus of “Kill da Wabbit!” Lowe rolled her eyes and waited until the bat broke into giggles and recovered her composure. “Sorry. Couldn't resist. I'll start making preparations and get a quick refresher on the Osprey. Get the orders sent out as quick as you can. I assume I'm taking some Marines in?”
“Or maybe Seals. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Sterling blanked her mirror and just shook her head. “Nukes. Hanging was too good for Saddam...”
USS Iwo Jima, LHD-7
Eastern Mediterranean Sea, 34 52' N, 35 07' E
Chief Petty Officer Lewis Jefferson nodded to the other members of Seal Team Four as he arrived in the briefing room. He and Sean 'Doc' Nichols were the only Changeling members of the team at the moment, which made them the preferred scouts when they went in together. He settled in next to the polar bear and brushed back the mane that he kept as long as regulations allowed to avoid snarky remarks about lionesses. “Any scuttlebutt on what this one is all about?”
Sean shook his head. “Not a peep. Everyone's got an idea, and nobody really knows sh--. But we oughtta be finding out soon now. They brought in an Osprey this morning. Kinda hints that they've got something unusual in the works.”
The lion-morph scowled. “F--- me. Why would they be using one of -those- things instead of a Stallion?”
The bear shrugged. “I'm sure some REMF has a reason. Let's hope the pilot knows how to keep one in the air.”
Both of them turned abruptly at the response that came from thin air beside them. “They do, and she does, Chief.” The bat was somehow suddenly -there-, even though they all would have sworn that the compartment was empty aside from the team, and the junior man at the door belatedly called “Attention on deck!” as he noticed her.
“At ease.” Sterling made her way to the front of the compartment, suppressing a grin at the astonishment of the elite commando team at being surprised by a mere pilot. She tapped a wingclaw on the lectern and waited for them to settle down while she picked up a wooden pointer – the LED 'laser' ones were starting to malfunction. “Thank you. As you just saw, I can be very hard to notice. I can extend that to an entire plane if I want to. So to answer Chief Jefferson's question, that is why an Osprey rather than a Sea Stallion. The mission requires a great deal of stealth. While I can provide that, I do have to be flying the aircraft in question, and I'm not qualified as a helo pilot.” She nodded to the petty officer by the hatch. “If you'll hit the lights?” The compartment went dark as he flicked the switch, and the screen behind her lit up as she activated the projector. “Our mission is fairly straightforward, and if it all goes as planned, I could probably pull it off with a newbie squad of shore patrol pukes. But in case it hits the fan, I'll be much happier having you along instead.” The Seal team chuckled at that. “So...” The first slide came up, showing an aerial view of a desert canyon with some overlaid markings. “We will be heading deep into Syria, to the far edge of ISIL-held territory. NSA has located one of Saddam Hussein's old bunkers – it seems that he -did- make arrangements to store things outside his territory. We are going in to pull out the three nuclear warheads he hid there back during Desert Storm, and evacuate the family of refugees that found them before ISIL notices them. I will be flying the aircraft and maintaining full stealth while we travel, so we will not need an escort. We will be landing in this clear space, approximately fifty yards from the concealed entrance here--”
One of the humans put a hand up. “Ma'am?”
“Yes, Senior Chief?”
“How solid is this intelligence?”
The bat grinned. “As near one hundred percent as you can get, Senior Chief. Surveillance has been done with both satellites and scrying techniques, and the jihadis hate anything 'magical'...” - she wiggled her fingerclaws in air quotes - “...enough to have neglected developing countermeasures for it. It's straight from the top, and I know the people who worked it up personally. It's the real thing.”
“Thank you, ma'am. It'd be nice for the intel people to get it right for once.” Another chuckle went around the room.
Sterling nodded. “Amen to that. I'm hoping this'll be the one to start a new trend. As I was saying, the entrance is concealed as a cave – probably -was- a natural cleft in the rock to start with, for that matter – which goes back another fifty yards or so to the first door...”
“Yasmina?” The young snake-changeling looked up as the doorway once again showed an image from the other side of the world. “Tonight is the night. My friend shall arrive at midnight with an airplane and a squad of soldiers to rescue you.”
“Prophetess! Blessings be upon you!” She smiled at the wolf. “Mother shall be glad to hear it. She has told me that she has heard airplanes while she was hunting, and wondered if they were yours.”
“They might have been. The one that has been sent before cannot land for you, though. Tonight's will be one that can. Stay in your den until the soldiers come to get you, though. The plane itself can be dangerous if you are too close while it is landing.” Lowe paused. “Where is your mother?”
“Keeping watch. The villagers sometimes come to search for us, and she has heard trucks as well. She wants to be sure they are not nearby when you come for us.”
The wolf frowned. “As long as she is not spotted herself.”
The snake-girl grinned, and curled herself up near the doorway to display her patterns. “We blend into the desert even without magic. They haven't been able to track her yet.”
“As long as it stays that way for one last day. Have you told your younger sisters what to expect? The last thing we need is panicky kits when we're trying to get everything loaded up.”
“I have, milady. Would you like to talk to them yourself? I can wake them...”
“Let them rest. They will need to be awake tonight. I will speak with you all in person in a few days. Tonight, expect an airplane that lands like a helicopter. It looks like this.” She held up a photograph of the Osprey for the girl to look at. “The pilot is a bat, and one of the soldiers is a lion. If that is not who you see, stay hidden.”
“It shall be as you say, Prophetess. In'sh'allah!”
“In'sh'allah, Yasmina. Until tonight.” She broke the connection. “Whether Allah wills this or not, my young sorceress, -I- will it.” She hit 'send' on the email she'd already prepared. “No deliveries tonight, Sayeed. Best you stay at home.”
Category Story / All
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Danke. I just try to think through the implications. The way I've set it up, it's a matter of replacing electricity with mana-flow. Some things are easy, other things are hard, and electronics is going to be a cast-iron bitch to duplicate...
Say hello to the 19th Century for a while...
Say hello to the 19th Century for a while...
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