Haven- Agent 51 Page 7

  Rylan didn’t respond. His eyelids were too heavy now, and he felt relieved as they began to close. Vaysinger slapped his face. “Stay with me, mate, almost there!” he said.

  Rylan struggled to remain conscious. His limbs had grown stiff and he was cold, very cold. All he wanted to do was sleep, but every time he began to drift Vaysinger would wake him with a slap.

  “Ruger better hurry or he’s going to miss the party,” Six said to Creed. Rylan watched blurrily as the man called Six pulled out a large railgun he had strapped to his back and placed it on the ground. He pulled two small hoses from the gun and attached them to his armor.

  “It’s time to get wet!” Six said and looked over at Rylan. He tapped his gauntlet, and the railgun apparatus sprang from the weapon and attached itself to his lower right hip.

  “No one’s missing anything,” Rylan heard another soldier say. He had not heard this Paladin’s voice before, but somehow it sounded oddly familiar to him. Rylan turned just enough to see the Paladin from the corner of his eye. He was dressed like the others except for two short swords he had strapped to his back. There was blood splatter on his armor, not to mention the dents, scrapes, and bullet fragments lodged in his chest plate. He carried a small semi-automatic Harbinger in one hand and a large, narrow bag in the other.

  Rylan stared at the Paladin as he moved into the room, and then gradually he closed his eyes again. The voices around him faded into the darkness, and he felt his body succumb to the fatigue he had fought for so long. It felt good, he thought, his mind drifting, to just rest.

  Vaysinger reached down to Rylan, turned his head, and checked his neck. The device had successfully cauterized his wounds, and the bleeding had stopped.

  “Sleep while you can, mate,” Vaysinger said, “You’re gonna need it.”

  Ruger surveyed the prison cell as he made his way over to Creed.

  “Glad you made it. Looks like you started without us,” Creed said and pointed to the blood on Ruger’s armor.

  “What, this? Just a little appetizer, sir. Plenty more where that came from,” Ruger replied.

  “Good,” Creed said and placed a hand on Ruger’s shoulder. “I’m tired of all this sneaking around.” He looked down at the bag in Ruger’s hand. “Is that it?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good, he’s over there.” Creed tilted his head in Rylan’s direction, then turned and headed down the hallway to join Dune.

  A high pitched whine rang out as Six brought his railgun online, and the barrel began to spin wildly.

  “How many?” he asked, swiveling the gun on his hip.

  “Thirty, maybe more,” Ruger said.

  “Don’t tease me.”

  “Would I do that to you?”

  Six steadied himself behind the railgun. “I love my damn job!” he said.

  “How’s our boy?” Ruger asked, making his way over to Vaysinger.

  “Blimey, he’s lost a lot of blood!” Vaysinger said as he removed the device from Rylan's neck and checked its readout. “This bloke has been tortured pretty bad. He has lots of fractures and some nerve damage as well. Whatever they used on him really messed him up.”

  “What do you mean?” Ruger asked.

  “I mean just about every system in that Keeper's body is shutting down, and I don’t know why. I have never seen anything like it, but I’m no Healer. This kid needs help, and he needs it fast.” Vaysinger looked down at the bag Ruger held in his hand.

  “Let’s just hope that thing does what they say it will,” Vaysinger said. “It might be his only chance.”

  Chapter 10

  “Charges set. It’s party time, boys!” Creed said as he walked through the cell door. Dune followed behind him, holding a large 886 sniper rifle.

  “He needs about ten minutes before we can move him,” Vaysinger said.

  Ruger knelt down beside Rylan. The Paladin stared at the Keeper for a moment before speaking.

  “It’s been a long time,” Ruger said softly. “I have something for you.” He unzipped the long narrow bag he had been carrying. “This should help,” he said and placed Talus between Rylan's arm and chest.

  The staff came to life, and its gemstone grew bright. Ruger watched as Rylan’s pallid skin became flushed again. He placed his hand on Rylan’s chest and kept it there for a brief moment.

  “Come on, Talus,” he murmured. “Bring our boy back.”

  As Ruger watched over Rylan, the Paladin team moved into position. Standing center was Six holding his railgun. Dune was on the floor with the massive sniper rifle. Creed had taken a knee near the entrance with a detonator in one hand and a Harbinger in the other. Both Vaysinger and Ruger stood in front of Rylan’s body with their Harbingers trained over Six's shoulder.

  “Paladin Team, this is Valkyrie, register?” a voice said from Creed's gauntlet.

  “This is Paladin Team, GO!” he replied.

  “Are the assets secure?”

  “We have two assets down and one in need of Healer care.”

  “Confirmed, Paladin. Valkyrie inbound in fifteen. Send coordinates for extraction.”

  “Sending coordinates now,” Creed said.

  The sound of approaching soldiers echoed through the corridor. Their boots struck the ground with an eerie cadence that hid their numbers.

  “Okay, boys, steady!” Creed said, holding up his Harbinger and aiming at the door. The shadows of the advancing soldiers stretched across the stone floor.

  “Steady …” Creed said through gritted teeth.

  The footsteps grew louder, and the shadows that stretched from the floor to the walls were getting larger by the second. Finally, Cyrus Kan’s skull soldiers rounded the corner.

  “Now!” Creed yelled.

  A barrage of gunfire exploded from the small dungeon into the onslaught of angry soldiers. Rylan flinched at the noise as he regained consciousness. Vision blurred and exhausted, he lifted his head just in time to see several of Cyrus’s men cut down by the Paladin gunfire. Bright fiery flashes erupted from the Harbingers’ muzzles. Their odd tempos were almost drowned out by the high-pitched whine of Six’s railgun.

  “Reload!” Creed shouted.

  Together Vaysinger, Ruger, and Creed ejected the magazines from their Harbingers and replaced them with new clips. Dune continued to fire the massive sniper rifle, obliterating any enemy that rounded the corner.

  “The next wave is bigger, boys!” Creed said, looking down at the screen on his gauntlet. “But this one is on me!” He held up the detonator in his hand. “Ruger, get that shield up!”

  Ruger retracted his Harbingers, which folded back into his gauntlets, and stepped forward, unbuckling a short cylinder that was strapped to the side of his utility belt. He twisted the top of the cylinder, then placed it by the doorway. Rylan watched as three blue flares flashed from the top of the mechanism, which then burst into a large blue dome of energy, encapsulating the entire group.

  “Shield's up,” Ruger said and took his place behind Six. The team repositioned their weapons and took aim again. All eyes were trained on the dank corridor.

  A few minutes later the sound of boots and clattering armor resounded down the long hallway once again. Rylan pulled Talus closer to himself in anticipation. The staff began to vibrate, warning him of the pending threat.

  The corridor erupted again in a barrage of heavy gunfire as an angry mob of Skull soldiers sped around the corner.

  The energy shield Ruger had erected intensified, growing brighter as the outer surface became riddled with incoming bullets. Rylan craned his neck to see at least fifty militants advancing on their position. He was feeling groggy, but he needed to get up. The enemy's numbers were growing. He needed to help the Paladins. Rylan tried to sit up, but he immediately felt faint and lay back down. Talus, please, he thought, work faster.

  He lifted his head to look up again, but he had trouble seeing beyond the onslaught of blue and green explosions that peppered the shield. Cracks mu
ltiplied across the surface and spread like a web over the entire orb.

  He stared up at the blue orb, his mind racing. There were too many attackers; the energy shield would never hold. But then it dawned on him that it was never meant to. The shield was there to buy the Paladins time, just enough to get as many soldiers into the narrow corridor as possible before detonation.

  “Get ready!” Creed yelled, “in three, two, one!” He clicked the small lever of the detonator. Rylan saw the enormous flash before he heard the explosion and felt the ground tremble beneath him. The Skull soldiers suddenly vanished, engulfed by tons of rock and debris that billowed down the corridor. The energy shield sputtered and flickered against the fragments of the blast as rocks and body parts sprayed like shrapnel against its waning barrier.

  The Paladin gunfire had ceased, but it took a few minutes until the ringing in Rylan’s ears stopped. He watched anxiously as the dust settled and the devastation came into view. The only other light in the room besides Talus’s glow was the dim blue flicker of the shield, but it was clear that the corridor had been reduced to rubble. There were no survivors. One by one, each of the Paladin warriors lowered their weapons.

  There was a moment of silence before Creed and his men began reloading. Ruger turned and knelt down next to Rylan.

  “Can you move?” he asked.

  Rylan looked at the warrior. His scarred helmet and tattered visor suggested this was just another day in the life of a Paladin elite. Rylan could almost see Ruger's face through the thin layer of dust on his black Y-shaped visor. He wondered what this man looked like behind his mask.

  He knew there were few, if any, that knew his true identity. It was rumored that Paladin recruits were taken at an early age, plucked from Haven’s society and trained to be fierce soldiers. Their missions were top secret, and few civilians had ever laid eyes on one of these soldiers. You didn’t ask to be a Paladin, you were chosen.

  Rylan nodded. “I think so,” he said.

  “You better know, Keeper, we leave in five,” Creed said, looking at his gauntlet. He pointed to the back of the room. “Dune, I need an extraction point. Make it so.”

  Ruger held out his hand to Rylan. “Come on, Keeper, let’s get you up,” he said as he helped Rylan to his feet.

  Rylan winced in pain, but he knew Talus would not stop working until he was completely stable. The staff had minimized the pain by trying to heal him internally. He still had a long way to go, but he was no longer dying. He leaned on Talus, who was emitting a soft, pulsating glow. Ruger held onto him for a moment longer before letting go.

  Dune switched off the energy shield, and the dome of blue light that had been protecting them vanished. He unscrewed the top of the tube and removed a small silver disc from it. As he held it up to Talus's light, Rylan could see that the disc was burned and warped.

  “Few minutes more and we would have all looked like this,” Dune said as he tossed the disk onto the ground, “which would’ve been unfortunate, because without this bucket on my head, I’m the best looking one in this group.”

  “You're telling lies again, Dune,” Ruger said and handed him another disc. Dune snatched it and mumbled something under his breath about everybody being jealous.

  He placed the disk inside the cylinder and screwed down the top again. The energy shield came back to life, but this time it was a bright orange.

  Rylan knew from his training that the change in color meant a change in the density and longevity of the shield. The orange was a blast shield, capable of withstanding massive explosions and heavy debris, but it would only last minutes at best under a constant assault.

  Dune took his massive sniper rifle and pulled three small shafts from the butt of the gun. He removed a flash suppressor and replaced it with a thinner shaft that slid easily into the barrel. Then he screwed on a small missile to its end.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Rylan asked.

  Ruger looked over at the Keeper. “Cryo missile,” he said.

  “I like to call it the Shredder,” Dune said, stepping back and admiring his work. “That looks about right. Twenty tubes should do it.”

  It had been a long time since Rylan had used a mechanized weapon of this caliber. In fact, it took him a minute to remember that there were ten cryos per tube. That would be a big explosion, Rylan thought as he looked up at the stone ceiling.

  “Paladin Team, this is Valkyrie. We have your tracking beacon and will be in position for extraction in one minute,” a voice said from Creed's gauntlet.

  “Confirmed, Valkyrie, Paladin Team standing by,” Creed responded into his wrist. He looked over to Dune. “Let’s blow this top and get the hell out of here!”

  Dune nodded. “My pleasure! Strap up, boys. Daddy’s gonna make it rain!”

  Ruger took Rylan by the arm and moved him closer to the sniper rifle. The rest of the Paladins formed a circle around the large gun and took a knee.

  “Get down, Keeper,” Ruger said. Rylan knelt down beside him and they all looked to Dune.

  Dune pushed a few buttons on his gauntlet, and the screen changed from blue to a pale green. The lights on the barrel of the sniper rifle glowed in the same corresponding colors.

  “The two are synced,” Dune said, looking over at Rylan. “You’re gonna love this!” One by one the eight lights on the barrel of the gun went out, signifying the countdown.

  When only four lights were left, Rylan could hear the sound of Tagar engines roaring overhead.

  Two lights left …

  “Brace yourself!” Creed yelled out.

  One …

  The gun jolted, the barrel flashed, and the floor shook as the rifle detonated like a cannon. The ceiling of the small prison exploded into a thousand pieces. Large rocks and pieces of debris came crashing down onto the shield. Rylan flinched as the rubble disintegrated on impact. He could see lights from an aircraft shining down on them through the large hole in the ceiling. He watched as the massive ship came into view, its large bay doors opening as it descended through the night sky.

  “That’s our ride!” Creed said.

  “Time to move, Keeper,” Ruger muttered.

  Dune switched off the blast shield with his gauntlet, and all the Paladins stood up. Each one raised their hand and launched a small grappling hook from the end of their gauntlet. The hooks disappeared through the open bay doors and into the belly of the ship. Ruger took hold of Rylan, wrapping his arm around Rylan's chest.

  “Hold on,” he said.

  Rylan held tightly and watched as the Paladins ascended one by one through the hole in the ceiling and into the ship. Once they were inside the bay doors closed and they all hung for a second, suspended by their ropes in the holding area of the Tagar.

  The engines roared as the Paladins lowered themselves onto the floor of the ship. Rylan placed both hands on Talus to stable himself as Ruger let him go. But the room began to spin, and he felt another sharp pain in his chest.

  “He’s bleeding again,” Vaysinger said, looking down at Rylan. The wound on his neck had reopened. Feeling too weak to stand, he stumbled to the floor before Ruger caught him.

  “Easy, Rylan,” Ruger said.

  “Why is he still bleeding?” Creed asked.

  “I don’t know.” Vaysinger said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. We have to get him back to the Majesty. Like I said before, he needs a damned Healer!”

  Rylan could no longer hold onto Talus. He felt his staff slip from his hand. The room spun faster, and the last thing he noticed was the blurred image of the Paladin they called Ruger.

  “Hold on, Ry,” he whispered.

  Chapter 11

  Rylan opened one eye, and the dim light slowly crept into his sight. Everything seemed fuzzy and green at first. He closed his eye as he tried to remember how he got there.

  His muscles felt sore and fatigued, but not from injuries, more from lack of use.

  How long had he been lying there?

  Rylan open bot
h eyes this time, but it took several minutes for things to come into focus. The room was white with a red stripe near the center of the wall. He had been here before during a training exercise at the Academy. It was the Majesty’s Critical Care Center—he must be worse off than he thought.

  Rylan could hear the sound of the monitors in the background, the ticks and beeps associated with his vital signs. Finally he noticed the source of the green glow off to the left. He slowly turned his head to see a shadow of a man standing there.

  “You gave us quite a scare, my boy.”

  The voice was soothing and kind, but most of all it was familiar.

  “Demetrius,” Rylan said, squinting to see him more clearly. His voice was rough, and his throat was tender. He tried to lift his head, but he did not have the strength.

  “Easy, Rylan, rest. You’re safe. We can talk later once you’re better,” Demetrius said.

  Rylan lay his head back on the pillow and took in a deep breath as Demetrius moved from the shadows and approached his bedside. He was a tall man with unique amber eyes. They were almost like that of a witch, but lighter. The hood of his emerald cloak covered most of his features, but the green glow from his staff illuminated the familiar grey stubble around his cheeks and chin.

  “So, I’m going to live?” Rylan asked with a smile. He winced and moved a hand to his ribs.

  “It looks that way,” Demetrius replied as he removed his hood.

  Rylan looked into the Master Keeper's eyes. They seemed distant and concerned.

  “I’m sorry,” Rylan said.

  Demetrius moved closer to the bed. “Sorry, for what?”

  “I couldn’t save Zeek,” Rylan said. “I tried, but …” His eyes drifted away from Demetrius.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but the killers’ themselves,” Demetrius said.

  Rylan looked back at Demetrius. You couldn’t see it in his rugged exterior, but Rylan could hear the sorrow in his voice.