The Red Queen (15 page)

CHAPTER 11

DESERT WRAITH

Valkyrie flew across the Mediterranean Sea, then over the green and brown mountains of Greece.

Lucienne’s blood ran colder every second she couldn’t get to Kian.

When she arrived at the operation office inside a high-tech corporate building in Athens, Bansi Soni, the Indian computer genius, and his team had set up the network. She had him secretly shipped to Athens op to aid her. And now she was sharing Director Pyon’s encrypted communication channels.

“Director Pyon will execute me if he finds out,” Bansi Soni said. When he was nervous, his Indian accent became thicker.

“Who hired you?” asked Lucienne. “Who picked you up from the dirt?”

“You,” Bansi Soni said.

“Then who do you want to please—me or him?”

“You’re nice,” said Bansi Soni. “Director Pyon is a formidable man.”

“I can be very formidable,” Lucienne stared down at Bansi Soni. “I’m sweet to you ‘cause you’re my friend. I can drop all the niceties if you prefer.”

“Don’t drop it,” Bansi Soni grunted. “I’ll do what you want.”

Through the satellite Dragonfly, Lucienne watched Sphinxes’ force attack the Sealers’ thirty outposts and military bases. General Fairchild and Admiral Enberg led the global assaults.

“Director Pyon is on,” Bansi Soni called.

“Stay with him and his team,” Lucienne ordered.

The hologram showed the team landing in Libya’s desert. They each wore a white robe and black cap outside a mosque, disguising themselves as desert tribal men.

Being blocked by the enemy technology, the satellite couldn’t see through heated objects inside the thirty-seven acre military compound. The base had a remote-controlled steel door, two razor-wire fences, and anti-tank traps. Outside the last fence, a two-mile radius was laced with landmines.

As soon as the Desert Wraith team deactivated the minefield, a dozen TanTrks—a hybrid tank and attack truck—sped over the dark sand dune carrying Sphinxes’ commandos. A minute later, dogs barked
from the enemy’s fortress. The alarm went off and gunfire broke out.
Two enemy militants fell from the watch tower. Missiles and counter-missiles from both sides met in the air like a rain of fire. The militants shot several missiles toward the rows of TanTrks.

One TanTrk flipped in the air and toppled down.

Acid flooded Lucienne’s stomach.

The rest of the TanTrks didn’t break rank as they pushed toward the enemy’s camp, leaving twists of smoke and a storm of sand behind.

Cameron III and two fighters—Hornet I and II—whirled above the war camp but didn’t drop missiles or bombs.

Lucienne slammed her fist on her palm, wishing she could join the fight. Thaddeus, standing behind her, appeared equally restless.

“Lucia,” Bansi Soni called, “news from Abaddon 5 just came through.”

“Let’s hear it,” Lucienne said.

Bansi Soni switched the channel, and a mission leader reported through the encrypted communication channel, “The chief isn’t in Abaddon 5. We suffered a great loss, but we caught the head warden. He swore they never admitted the chief. And Sealers elder Samantha escaped three days ago.”

Kian is in Libya border
. Lucienne turned back to the screen just as Hornet I dropped a chemical bomb. In a blink of an eye, the enemies’ stronghold ceased fire and turned into a silent zone.

“Black Coma, isn’t it?” Thaddeus said. “Cousin Patrick mentioned it.”

Black Coma—designed to knock out any living thing—was a new chemical weapon Lam’s Industry developed a few months ago. The Lams would get a huge contract after Pyon’s Desert Wraith assault.

“Why didn’t Pyon use the sleeping bomb earlier,” Thaddeus asked, “so none of our TanTrks would have been hit?”

“Director Pyon must have wanted the enemy militants to be aware of the attack but not have enough time to organize an efficient counterattack,” Adam said. “That way, Chief McQuillen would be alert and get ready.”

“Black Coma is costly,” Lucienne said. “We haven’t put it into mass production. Pyon was only testing it. He wouldn’t use it to knock out our chief unless he had no choice.”

The
steel
gate to the enemy’s compound swung open.

“
Ziyi
hacked into the terrorists’
system!” Bansi Soni pounded the table with a cheer. “I told you that girl is good.”

The Desert Wraith team, wearing special masks, passed the electric fencing and sped through the door without any resistance. Gray-haired Pyon was among them.

Lucienne’s heart raced erratically as hope and fear took turns running through her mind. The scouts were inside the compound now. Every step they took led them closer to Kian. Until she heard a team leader’s brief buzz through Pyon’s radio, “Chief McQuillen isn’t here.”

Lucienne’s limbs went icy cold, fear in her every vein.
Where is Kian?
Had she already been too late? A red wave rolled in.
No, not now!
That was why Pyon had refused to let her be in the field. She could jeopardize the men’s lives if she went mental.
Fear is only as deep as the mind allows
. I’ll take ownership of my fear. I’ll take ownership—

Still, she couldn’t exorcise the black fear stuck to her bone marrow.

“Cousin?” Thesaurus clutched her shoulders. “Snap out of it, cousin! Kian needs you!”

“He’s not there,” she panted, her voice muffled in her ears. “Kian isn’t there. Where is he?”

“We’ll find him,” Thesaurus said. “Look at me, cousin!”

Lucienne looked into the warrior’s eyes. His loyalty, bravery, and determination lent her the strength she desperately needed.

“The chief is alive,” her captain said, “and we’ll find him!”

The red wave passed through Lucienne and was gone.

CHAPTER 12

THE SHADOW

HOURS BEFORE THE ATTACK OF

THE DESERT WRAITH

Bayrose studied a half-conscious Kian McQuillen.

Once he went free, he’d become the Sealers’ nightmare again. But he wouldn’t become hers, because she’d be his.

“I’ve had a change of heart,” Bayrose said. “I don’t want McQuillen’s head. I want the Siren bitch’s, and I want it before the poison ends her. So I’m giving her back McQuillen in exchange for her head.”

“And she’ll be so grateful that she’ll cut off her own head and hand it to you,” said Mirrikh.

“I won’t reciprocate your sarcasm,” Bayrose said. “If we execute McQuillen, we’ll only maim Sphinxes. Its arms will grow back. To win this war, we must cut the snake’s head. Of course, our enemy won’t hand us what we request, so I’m going to take everything from them. We’ll set McQuillen free, and he’ll grant me access to Sphinxes. When Lucienne Lam expires, which won’t be long, I need to be there for the harvest.”

Mirrikh guffawed.

“You wouldn’t laugh if you have a higher vision like the founder and I do,” Bayrose said haughtily.

Mirrikh stopped.

“You aren’t the only reckless one,” Bayrose continued. “I can be bolder. Even
you
said that I have this innocent, sweet look. I once tricked Vladimir. I don’t mind turning it on Kian McQuillen too.”

“McQuillen’s heart is the coldest, hardest rock, and completely black. I doubt anyone could touch him except his Siren queen. Besides, all of Sphinxes is calling for your blood. They’ve been out hunting you as we speak. Should I remind you that you poisoned their Siren, or do you prefer they do it if they can catch you?”

“I’ll deny it,” Bayrose said. “I’ll convince them I’m also the victim of the founder and my late father. After I rescue McQuillen, he’ll support me. Everything is perception, and perception changes. Sphinxes will view me as the hero who saved their chief. I’ll worm my way into their hearts before Lucienne dies.”

“So this isn’t an impulsive whim. You want to turn fantasy into reality.”

Bayrose gave him a scorching look. “McQuillen delivered himself to our door. Will we ever find a better opportunity?”

“You might fool them with your innocent, pretty looks and a plausible story,” Mirrikh said, “but what makes you think Sphinxes—an emerging nation with battle-hardened warriors—will follow the lead of a sixteen-year-old girl?”

Bayrose’s eyes burned with dark rage. “The Siren is only one year older than me. I’m no less than her. Her background isn’t that different from mine. She inherited the Siren’s seat just as I inherited the elder’s.”

“She fought through fire and blood and defeated twelve bright boy candidates who had a river of powerful supporters and resources, to reach the Siren’s crown when she was only eight years old. At the time, she had only Kian McQuillen.”

“Do you realize the consequences of underestimating and humiliating me, Mirrikh Schwartz?”

“I’m reasoning with you because I care about you.” He’d once told her that she was the only person on this planet whom he cared about and she believed him.

“Then you’ll watch my back when I’m gone.”

“Haven’t I always looked out for you?” He sent her a sidelong, amused glance before turning serious. “You’re now the speaker. Will the founder let you take such a risk?”

“The founder is all about hunting down the Siren race.”

“How does he sound?”

“You shouldn’t ask, Mirrikh,” Bayrose said, not looking at him. “You know the rule. It’s dangerous to even speak of it. The founder has a way of knowing everything.”

“My apologies,” Mirrikh said. Bayrose could feel he stiffened as he looked around.

They stood silently, then Mirrikh said, “If you do this, you’re on your own.”

“I’m ready.”

“A sheep thinks she can take down wolves.”

“I’m not a sheep!” said Bayrose. “I’m not the little girl you used to play with. You need to accept that and adjust your perception of me!”

“Fine, you’ll lead the wolves and guide them with wisdom,” Mirrikh said with a smirk. “You look lovely and fragile, which makes any man want to protect you. Sphinxes is full of alpha males. Your plan can work.”

For a fleeting second, Bayrose sensed that Mirrikh had his own agenda. But then he’d always had an agenda. “It’ll work. It must work,” she said.

She had the Shadow.

Blood Tear, Shadow, and Devourer were the three gifts from an angel. Her ancestors chronicled the encounter with the angel, whose gifts verified that the bloodline Bayrose inherited was the chosen one— only the Sirens hijacked their birthright.

The Scroll of the Prophecy—known to the Sirens as the last scroll—also confirmed the truth of the secret history. The Sirens were usurpers from the beginning. Bayrose must correct the error and take back what was rightfully hers.

Her line had been carefully preserved. After one of her founder ancestors had been assassinated nine centuries ago, her family had created the rank of twelve elders, but unknown to all, one of the elders—the speaker was actually the founder.

Bayrose Thorn was now the new founder of the Sealers.

Even Mirrikh, her closest ally, had no idea of the secret structure of the Sealers, nor did he know about the Shadow.

The Shadow wasn’t from Earth. The angel hadn’t told her ancestors of its origin. It had the appearance of a triangular leaf, and on each side overlapped two smaller triangles. Under a microscope, one could see intricate runes all over the delicate leaf. No one could decode the runes. All her ancestors knew was that the Shadow was the shield. It safeguarded the mind of its host from any supernatural force.

But there was a cost.
The Shadow would eventually consume its host. No mortal could resist its will. In the end, the carrier would even have a shadowy personality. Bayrose wasn’t too concerned about that. She had no sunshine left in her since the day Vladimir had left. The day the Siren’s forces had reduced her daddy to scattered ashes at the bottom of the Polynesian sea.

Right after McQuillen’s captivity, Bayrose had formed a perfect plan—she’d go deep undercover in the enemy’s camp, just as Prince Vladimir had done to hers.

How would he react when he saw her again? Her heart hurt so much at picturing him. With the Shadow in her, she’d be safe in guarding her mind, and probably her heart.

When the leaf-like Shadow had first touched her tongue, it had turned into a hovering, dark mist before vanishing inside her. Then it had spread like a web until it had reached every cell of hers and taken residency. She’d crouched at the corner of room, alone and silent and sweating, until the panic attack had passed.

But when she’d risen to her feet, she’d never
felt more powerful and guarded. The Shadow was the impenetrable wall around her, and cocooned inside, she was safe from the whole world except the Shadow itself.

Mirrikh murmured something beside her and cut off her trance. She turned to him, a coldness that she hadn’t had before coating her eyes.

“I have a better plan,” Mirrikh said, “which doesn’t involve risking you.”

For a cunning second, she knew his intention. Was it because of the Shadow? Had it already made her sharper? “Does it involve a massacre?” she asked.

“You’ve become razor-sharp, Rose,” he said, and Bayrose detected a trace of nostalgia in his voice. “The sweetest little girl I played with has grown up overnight, and now she wants to take over the world.”

“What’s your game, Mirrikh?” she asked impatiently.

“I believe you know more of Devourer than I do since you’re now the speaker.”

Bayrose managed to stand very still. Was he baiting her? “What do you know about it?”

Mirrikh regarded her reaction. “All elders know we have this top-secret, ancient weapon that can vaporize the world’s population in mere seconds.”

Bayrose gave a one-shoulder shrug to make the matter lighter. “So?”

“It will be a magnificent sight when we unleash it,” Mirrikh said, his eyes flashing a feverish light.

“It will be hell on earth.”

“We should have brought hell on earth a long time ago,” Mirrikh said, biting his fingernails. “Why didn’t the founder use it in Sphinxes before the Siren’s forces struck us in Polynesia? Have you ever wondered about that?”

She’d lost her father in that war. She didn’t understand either why father hadn’t used Devourer to completely vanquish their ancient enemy. Why had father gone through that elaborate scheme to poison the Siren at the cost of his own life? When he’d sunk with
Rose
, Mother had been nowhere near. Bayrose knew that Mom had always been the one who called the shots. So, had Mother been behind all this? Had she let her husband die and poisoned the Siren, but had refused to deploy Devourer?

Was Mother still in control of the Sealers despite Bayrose being founder now? Why hadn’t Bayrose had the access code to Devourer? She must thoroughly search father’s digital safety box to find the rest of the secrets he’d left her. She’d do it tonight. It would be a nightmare if Devourer fell into the wrong hands, in particular Mirrikh’s.

“Devourer is our last line of defense,” Bayrose drawled. “The founder won’t use it unless our very survival is under threat.”

“Our survival has been under threat since the rising of the Siren girl and Sphinxes.”

“Unleashing Devourer is not for us to decide,” Bayrose snapped. “And the Polynesian war was but a small sacrifice.”
Is it really?

Mirrikh turned to her with a piercing look. Bayrose didn’t flinch, even though her heart stumbled. Had she let slip the truth? She couldn’t afford to let Mirrikh or anyone suspect her true role.

“I’ve been wondering,” he said in a calculating voice, “if the founder survived in Polynesia, or if the new founder is a he or she.” His gaze could have bored a hole in her face. “Only you know, Rose. You’re the only one who has heard his or her voice, or maybe even met the founder in person.”

He was baiting her, but she saw through him. Somehow she had this confidence she’d never possessed before. Mirrikh could no longer manipulate or outmaneuver her. No one could. The Shadow had taken root in her. “Mirrikh, stop this!” she cut in with a note of warning. “Do not test me again.”

“My apologies,” he said. “But Rose, you haven’t realized how important your role is as the speaker for the founder. You’ll be his counsel. You’ll gain more influence and experience in time. When the day comes, will you speak to the founder for all the elders, including me?”

“Of course I will. What is your request?”

“Set the Devourer on Sphinxes and erase the plague from this already polluted planet. We’re tired of lurking in the shadows with secret handshakes. We’re the new generation who deserve the limelight. Let the world see us as we truly are. All shall fear us!”

“We’ll rid the world of the plague,” Bayrose said, “but why destroy Sphinxes when we have an opportunity to add it as our extra resources? I’m going there to make it happen. Plus, we’ll have to consider innocent people on that island before resorting to ultimate violence.”

“You mean Prince Vladimir?”

“Prince Vladimir is everything but innocent.” Bayrose kept her emotions in check. “And he means nothing to me. But as I said, I’m not a butcher.”

“What if you can’t win Sphinxes?”

“Then I’ll talk the founder into unleashing Devourer onto that island.”

“What about the innocent ones you mentioned earlier?”

Bayrose whipped around toward Mirrikh. “Are you really enjoying pushing my buttons?”

Mirrikh chuckled. “No, Rose, no. I just want you to see that you and I are more alike than you realize.”

She disagreed. But one thing she knew—she was no longer the sweet Rose. And the Shadow had set her on the path of no return.

Carrying a paper cup of coffee and a pastry on a paper plate, Bayrose stepped through the door to Kian McQuillen’s cell.

“Leave us,” she told the guards. One of them held the steel door.

“My lady—” a leading guard said nervously.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Bayrose said, her stern voice at odds with her looks. It was as if a sweet child forced herself to be unfriendly.

“Yes, Lady Thorn.” The guards withdrew.

Bayrose closed the steel door behind her and breathed out. She knew the guards weren’t far off. “Light,” she ordered.

An artificial light filled the room.

Still chained to the wall, McQuillen sat despite his injuries.

Is this man truly made of steel?
Bayrose stood unmoved beside the door for a good full minute as her mind went blank. She had no clue what she should do next. Then she remembered the coffee in her hand. She walked toward Kian McQuillen, her hand shaking slightly, and the coffee swayed. Bayrose stopped, took a deep breath, and steadied the tray in her hands.

She bent down, put the food and drink before the man, and stepped back.