The Phoenix Reckoning (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 6) (9 page)

“This profound tragedy only underscores our need to come together and make our Empire whole again. To reunite and save this family. For only together can we be strong enough to persevere. Only together, can we survive. We must unite,
now
, all of us, under my banner, and save not only our Empire; we must save ourselves.”

***

Hadriana managed to convince the others to meet her again so soon because of the imminent nature of Raidan’s threat. Now the warships encircled the planet, their weapons ready, teeth bare, and soon the bombs would fall, she knew it. They
all
knew it. Which meant, if they were bold enough to do something, they had to act soon, or it would be too late.

“When last we met,” she said, “you demanded from me one more good reason why we should do all we can to defy our king. Why we should give him up to Raidan. Well, since saving our people, and our own lives, was not enough, how about
this
?” she spoke forcefully. “Thetican System was entirely destroyed. You’ve all heard the reports by now.”

“Surely you aren’t saying that Caerwyn Martel was behind the attack that destroyed the star,” said Representative Ogden, “because that would be lunacy.”

“Is it so different a thing to be responsible by omission than commission?” asked Hadriana. As the others chewed on her words, wondering where she was going with this, she expounded. “Caerwyn did nothing to defend Thetican System. While Queen Kalila was personally there, fighting to save it, giving of her own blood and treasure in order to defend her people—a planet that had previously declared for Caerwyn for God’s sake—yet she was there, like an actual monarch, doing all she could, and giving of herself all she could to save that world. And while she did that, where was our beloved king?”

“The so-called queen may have tried to save Thetican System, sure,” admitted Representative Ogden. “But she obviously failed, didn’t she?”

“At least she tried,” said Hadriana. “And why did she fail?”

“No one can know,” said Representative Baldwin.

“Perhaps she failed because she lacked the support that Caerwyn could have given her,” said Hadriana, to the shock of the others.

“Are you saying that if Caerwyn had agreed to a truce and helped defend the system, it would not have fallen? The star would not have been destroyed?” asked Representative Ogden.

“I cannot say for sure, but wouldn’t you agree that its chances of survival would have been a lot better if Caerwyn had sent forces to help protect it? The man’s own father lived there, but Caerwyn did nothing. And now, perhaps thanks to his royal pompous ass, our colleague and friend, the esteemed Representative Tate, is dead. And so is her family. And her neighbors and friends. And everyone on her world.”

Hadriana could tell that her words were sitting uncomfortably with the others in the room, just the way she wanted them to. They knew something had to be done, and they knew Caerwyn was, to one degree or another, to blame for what happened, since he did literally nothing to prevent it.

“A man who hides and protects himself, and refuses to defend his people, refuses even to defend his own blood, that is no kind of king, and even if Raidan were not here, demanding him with threat of violence, I say it would still be our duty to remove such a king from power and instate a new one.” These were bold words, but, to her pleasant surprise, no one contradicted her. Even Representative Ogden seemed at a loss for words, which was a first.

“I cannot conclusively say that Caerwyn is to blame for the loss of Thetican System,” said Hadriana, “but I do know that I hold him accountable for what happened there. If he is our king, why did he not defend the system? Why is it not him who is broadcasting to the Empire, admitting shame and apologizing to the people? I’ll tell you why. It’s because he knows he’s a coward. And he probably even knows that if he’d sent his fleet to help defend the system, then combined with Kalila’s forces, together they may have been too many in number for the Rotham to engage. The decision to agree to a truce and defend his people might have saved every single life that day by preventing a battle. Not just the billions that were lost on the planet. But, no, Caerwyn did not do that. I don’t blame Raidan for wanting the man’s head. I say it’s high time we give it to him.”

These words were met with significantly more uneasiness, but still no one contradicted her.
It’s because, deep down, they know I’m right
, she thought,
even if they are afraid to admit so out loud
.

“But, what about a plan?” asked Representative Taggart. “You, Sergei, you speak of strategies to overcome obstacles, well how, my good sir, do you propose to overcome this one? The king is in an undisclosed location surrounded by an army of security guards, how can we possibly hope to contend with that?”

“Simple,” said Sergei. “I’m his Head of Security.”

“What?” Confusion resounded throughout the room. “He trusts
you
, yet you are
here
?”

“He doesn’t really trust anybody, he’s paranoid, especially now,” said Sergei. “But, for some reason, he mistrusts me the least. Enough that I know where he is, I know the guard rotations, hell—I know the guards. I know which ones are sympathetic to our cause and which are not. I can arrange everything. All I need is the legitimacy from you, the top officials of the Imperial Assembly, to give me your seal of approval.”

“Done,” said Hadriana. She then looked at the others expectantly.

“Yes, done,” said Representative Baldwin, “if you’re telling the truth.”

“I assure you I am, although I must say I shall need your help to pull this off,” said Sergei, “but we
will
succeed if we work together; I promise you.”

Although this condition lessened the enthusiasm of those in the room, a quick reminder that in only a few short hours forty-one warships would begin bombing the planet—possibly killing them all—was all it took to get the rest of them on board. Even Representative Ogden came around to giving his seal of approval, although he was the most stubborn holdout. What eventually moved him, Hadriana believed, was the image of a warship firing down on the planet and destroying his home—one of the wealthier estates on the planet—and subsequently killing his entire family and staff, probably him too.

“All right, Sergei,” said Hadriana. “You have us. Now, what is the plan?”

“It goes like this…”

CHAPTER 05

Raidan was shocked to hear about the devastation of Thetican System. Not only had he predicted, and counted on, the queen to secure a decisive victory over the Rotham, he never would have suspected Thetican System to be the target of an isotome weapon. There was no value for the Rotham, or the Enclave, or even the Phoenix Ring—if any of them remained—to commit such an atrocity.
Unless…
the only party that arguably benefitted from the wanton destruction, and the near total loss of the Rotham fleet and significant loss of Kalila’s forces, was either Caerwyn himself—though such a feat seemed even too demonically low even for him—or, arguably, the Polarians. But why would they do it? And, more confusingly,
how
? They had no isotome weapons.

Raidan briefly entertained the notion that the weapon that was deployed was the very one he had ordered Pellew to secure, the one that Pellew managed to lose to a solo operative. But no, it couldn’t be, that operative had been human, not Polarian. Something else was going on…

The immediate worst part about that brutal event was that the ensuing shockwave destroyed so much of Kalila’s fleet that she could no longer hope to oppose Caerwyn in the field of battle. Which made Raidan’s work here all the more important.

He stepped onto the bridge and Commander Mason gave his report. “It has been three hours and fifty-nine minutes, sir, and not a word from the planet. Nor any sign that they are planning to cooperate.”

Goddamn
cowards, thought Raidan. “How many seconds remain?”

“About forty, now less,” said Mr. Gates. “Sir, the other ships are getting riley, they want to know what to do. Are they to fire, or hold fire, are we bluffing?”

“We’re not bluffing,” said Raidan stoically. “We can’t afford to bluff.” He tried to shove his emotions aside, but deep within himself a part of him cried out in anguish for Capital World, and what he was about to do.
They gave me no choice
, he reminded himself. “But we’re not going to devastate the planet either. Just enough to get their attention. Broadcast to Capital World that their time is up, then order the battlegroup to commence firing protocol Alpha One.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Mr. Demir, you may fire at will.”

The thirty seconds that followed after Raidan gave that order, he knew, must have felt like pure chaos on the ground, as beam weapons and planetary bombardment rounds made short work of the battlegroups pre-designated targets. The targets totally destroyed included: the Assembly Hall, the Palace, the Martel Estate, several command and control structures—though careful not to disrupt planetary communications—and various government buildings. At the end of it all, ships held fire, just like they were supposed to do, firing Alpha Two—should Raidan have to give the command—would not be so merciful.

“Mr. Gates, broadcast me,” said Raidan, wanting to send a new message to the surface of Capital World.

Mr. Gates signaled the go ahead.

“You have just witnessed the tiniest measure of the power I wield from the skies above your very heads. I only stopped my storm of destruction as a gesture of kindness. Because of the generosity inside my heart, I give you forty-five more minutes to deliver me Caerwyn Martel, dead or alive. I strongly urge you to do this. Because I will not be kind to you again.”

He signaled for the broadcast to end.

“Are we really going to bomb the planet into oblivion?” asked Mr. Mason. “If they don’t deliver Caerwyn Martel?”

“If they don’t deliver Caerwyn Martel…” Raidan’s voice trailed off, he then looked away, out the window, down upon the very planet that was simultaneously the soul of the Empire which he loved so dearly, and yet also the haven for Caerwyn Martel, who, more than anyone, had put the Empire in grave jeopardy.

Raidan would have given them more than forty-five minutes if he could have. He did
not
want to bomb the planet any more. He’d never wanted to bomb it at all. But, by last best estimate, Caerwyn’s fleet would be arriving from Ophiuchus within the hour.

When they arrived, whether they still belonged to Caerwyn or if they now belonged to Kalila, it meant the same thing for the Organization’s battlegroup. They were outlaws either way. And so Raidan wanted nothing more than to get his hands on Caerwyn, end him and this war once and for all, and then get the hell away from Capital World before it was too late. But, in order to get Caerwyn, Raidan was determined to stay as long as it took, as long as he was able.

Here and now, either Caerwyn Martel dies, or I do
.

***

Between the helmet’s thick, protective visor and the tinted, bulletproof windows, Hadriana could scarcely see the outside as they zipped along the twisted roads. From the time that they’d all loaded into the government van, she estimated they’d been driving a little under twenty minutes. Until five minutes ago, they’d had to move slowly, carefully choosing routes to avoid the chaos and rioting that was tearing up the capital. Hadriana had been sad to see the chaos, as numberless civilians fought the police—in heavy riot gear—all because of the lunatic in the sky and his threats of destruction.

“Is there any way we can speed this up?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, we’re here,” said Sergei from the driver’s seat. Like most cars on Capital World its autonomous driving mode could be disabled, allowing for manual control. On Sergei’s right sat Oliver, neither of the two ministers wore anything out of the ordinary. But the same could not be said for the nine representatives in the back of the van, including Hadriana. They’d been outfitted with body armor, gloves, and helmets with visors, all part of the standard uniform, Sergei had told them; this was the getup he had advised Caerwyn to approve for his personal bodyguards while he hid in the bunker.

According to Sergei, he’d convinced Caerwyn, as his Head of Security, of the necessity of the guards wearing such extreme gear in the off chance that they are attacked by a mob of rioters, or if some debris from the bombing falls over their heads. Caerwyn had been easy to convince, and since that time, the guards who protected him at his bunker wore such gear. It did seem to be very protective, Hadriana had to admit, but far more importantly, it obscured the identity of the guard really well. Which had been Sergei’s actual goal.

The van pulled up to a check point, Sergei flashed an ID at a guard in a guard station, and the van was waved through. They pulled up next to a small, box-like structure. It had a steel door and at least three guards were posted there. There might have been more behind the structure itself, Hadriana couldn’t tell.

“They’re dressed exactly as we are,” said Representative Ogden.

“That’s sort of the point,” said Hadriana. “Now shut up. Our voices might give us away.”

They remained quiet while Sergei and Oliver got out of the van and had a conversation with the standing guards. Hadriana wished she could see them well enough to read their lips, maybe then she’d get some sense of what they were talking about. A tiny paranoid sliver of her brain worried that Sergei and Oliver had betrayed them, and were delivering the nine treasonous representatives to the king on a silver platter—or rather, in this case, a black van. But she talked down that paranoid voice in her head and forced herself to concentrate on the present. On the mission at hand.

The guards rotate, we go in that structure, we descend the ladder, Sergei signals us to take up the guard posts as we descend the seven levels. Then Sergei, Oliver, Taggart and I will go to meet with the king in person. We’ll incapacitate him, speedily dress him in guard clothing, then hoist him up the ladders and into the van, feigning a medical emergency. After that we’re in the clear, all the way to the shuttle which, if Sergei knew his men as well as he seemed to think he did, would be all prepped and ready for launch.

It’s simple. It’s a simple plan. We can do this. Nothing is going to go wrong
. She tried to psych herself up to the task and felt her heart pounding in her chest like she’d taken a fistful of amphetamines.

Sergei and Oliver finished their conversation with the guards. Oliver entered the structure on his way to go meet with the king, and Sergei returned to the van. This time he opened up the back door. “Okay, soldiers, we don’t have all day, let’s move,” he said, waving them out of the vehicle one by one.

As each of them climbed out, they were issued a firearm. At Sergei’s insistence they had to look authentic, so they were the real thing, but since Sergei also didn’t trust a bunch of politicians to properly respect the firearms, he’d loaded them with blank rounds—and had explained repeatedly that blank rounds could still injure or kill at close range.

Hadriana was last out of the van; she took what appeared to be a short rifle of some sort, and her eyes met Sergei’s. His seemed to say, “Let’s roll.” She gave him a slight nod.

Sergei took a large pack from out of the van and strapped it to his back, then he moved to the front of the group and called them to halt. They’d gone over this so everyone knew to stand in position, forming a rectangle, and not move. They waited for about a minute until guards began to appear, exiting the small blocky structure. Shift change. Hadriana watched them apprehensively as they marched away in single file, seeming not to care too much about the formation of “soldiers” lined up to relieve them. More than likely they were just happy to be getting off duty. Little did they know they’d just completed their final shift ever.

When the last of the original guardsmen was clear of the structure, Sergei gave the order to move out. “All of you with me,” he said. “Take your positions, Red Shift.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” they each acknowledged him. Then, following Sergei, they marched toward the structure, passing the standing guards as they did. Hadriana hoped with every racing heartbeat that the guards wouldn’t get too close a look at any of them, that they wouldn’t somehow see through her visor and know something was wrong. Sergei had explained that the guards he could persuade, the ones who were sympathetic or he could otherwise leverage, they’d all been assigned to this shift and had each been convinced—or coerced—to not report for duty today. Hadriana and the other politicians were wearing their uniforms, fitting into them as perfectly as they could manage. Which was to say, not entirely perfect, but hopefully close enough.

The surface guards, the ones they passed now, were not ones that Sergei had any real pull over. He couldn’t coerce them, he couldn’t leverage them, and each of them was perfectly loyal to the king. So they were the primary threat to this operation. Walking between them and into the structure without any of them becoming alarmed or suspicious would mean overcoming a huge obstacle.

Here goes nothing
, thought Hadriana, as she stepped in between the guards, both of which were standing a bit too close for her comfort. They each gave her a fleeting glance, but neither seemed to think much of the situation.
I guess this is how the guard change usually happens
, she thought. Of course, if one of them had gotten suspicious, and had decided to remain quiet about it, she would never be able to tell, since these guards’ faces were just as hidden as her own. But she decided to have a little faith and trust that the plan was still proceeding well.

They descended the ladders, level to level, in single file. At each level, Sergei ordered one of them to stand guard and directed him or her to the position they would be expected to be standing in, in case one of the surface guards came to patrol the lower levels, which was a frequent-enough occurrence that Sergei had briefed them on what to do should that happen. Hadriana worked her way through it in her mind one more time, even though her job was different than the others.
Try not to talk. If you must speak, answer with yes or no. Remember your identity, if you forget, the name is painted over the left breast of the armored jacket. The less attention you draw to yourself, the better. Your job is to stand there, making things look like business as usual, nothing else. Don’t wander off, don’t go patrolling your level, just stand guard next to the ladder and remain there until I say otherwise
. Those had been Sergei’s instructions.

“You,” Sergei pointed, positioning Representative Baldwin to stand guard on the top level. The rest of them descended to the sixth, that level was given to Representative Ogden. The fifth went to Representative Easton. The fourth to Representative Taylor. The third belonged to Representative Blackmore. The second to Representative Brady. And finally they reached the bottom level. Normally, there would be a guard stationed here also, but Sergei decided he’d rather the four of them be in the room together, Sergei, Oliver—who was already there—and both Hadriana and Representative Taggart. Four against one, it should be a simple matter to overpower the king and incapacitate him. How exactly they were going to do that, Sergei had not explained. Hadriana simply trusted him that he knew what he was doing. All of their lives hung in the balance.

The entrance to the king’s chamber was blocked by a sturdy looking metal door. It looked so heavy and thick that it could likely withstand a bomb, although Hadriana was no expert in such things. She simply couldn’t imagine that door giving way to anything. Well, anything other than the proper code sequence, which Sergei knew. He pressed several buttons on a keypad and then allowed the door’s sensors to scan both his fingerprints and his retinas. “Processing,” said a pre-recorded female voice. Then, apparently satisfied, there was a click and the door slid open, revealing a plush-looking apartment.