From his outlook some twenty feet up a beech tree, Jeb Cain watched the first stage of the conquest of the Alchemist installation – and the general commanding it, a dozen feet beneath him.
Those long leather coats were not meant to climb on trees, but Zero had found himself a strong, wide tree limb stretching almost to the ground that enabled him to observe the first engagement unfold from an elevated point of view.
The older man had obviously seen the young captain on his perch, but had turned his back on the latter without a second thought. The former rebel couldn't quite believe the amount of trust – and/or arrogant over-confidence, Jeb hadn't yet figured out which, and wasn't sure if he wanted to – Zero was displaying by allowing said rebel to get into a position above and behind the Longcoat general.
The young captain had found four different ways, so far, to take advantage of the exposed back, neck and head, that would have killed his old nemesis and given Jeb a good chance to get away before the deed was discovered. After the fourth he had caught himself, decided that the sight of those black uniforms reacted badly with pre-battle nerves, and firmly put his mind on another track.
Pre-battle nerves with little chances to see any actual action, no less. Generals were supposed to stay behind and keep an eye on everything, if the young captain understood these things correctly, but it was surprisingly hard to passively watch the dozen grey-clad Longcoat soldiers follow the sweating Alchemist towards the gate.
Jeb had always been a frontline leader, both as a rebel and a Royal Guard. Here, however, he was not even allowed to join the well-hidden line of men that would form the first wave to follow the disguised troops, as soon as the gate was open and secured.
When he had made to join them, the big sergeant had held him back.
"Easy there, kid, plenty of times for heroics later," he had said, looking faintly amused.
Zero, close enough to overhear him, had added, with a sardonic grin, "I would hate to write a notification of death to your family, boy."
It shouldn't have been that easy to lull him, but with the Longcoat general behaving almost human towards him, in the last two days, the casual cruelty of that suggestion had taken Jeb's breath away for a moment.
"You wouldn't!" he had gotten out in a strangled tone.
"I most certainly would, boy." There was a glimmer of dark humor in the older man's eyes, but the tone had been quite serious. "You wouldn't want to keep your old man wondering what has happened to you, for the rest of his life, would you, boy?"
Of course, Jeb didn't, but still …
"What would you write?" the young captain had ventured cautiously, tacking on a quick "sir" for the sake of the nearby sergeant.
The general had shrugged, smirkingly. "Well, that depends on whether it is stupidity or bravery that gets you killed."
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The gate opened, after a short delay, for the false repair troop. There was a faint commotion once it started to close behind them, which served as a signal for the first wave of reinforcements to sprint across the coverless expanse before the gate.
They piled through the half-open gate, there were more muffled sounds of battle – Jeb had counted some two dozen goons in the cave behind it and the lanky Alchemist had stated that his escorts had not detracted from that count. Which left the disguised troops outnumbered two to one – and combined with the first wave outnumbering the defendants by about the same margin.
A few – endless – minutes later, the gate reopened to its fullest extent, and a black-clad figure signaled the all-clear.
Another half-company of men and most of the officers advanced – cautiously – towards the gate.
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Compared with the high-strung tension of the forced inactive wait, the aftermath of the fight was rather anticlimactic. Except that the five-annual-old-on-a-sugar-rush feeling of unspent adrenaline still coursing through Jeb's veins painted the ugly aftereffects in extra lurid detail.
There was a red spray on one of the door wings, turning into a smear halfway down to the floor. The air was heavy with the stench of torn bodies, yet without the distinctive smell of spent explosives that the young captain automatically associated with it.
Major Anjil, in blood-smeared grey, was discussing something sophisticated a bit off the gate with two of his men. He turned towards his general at the latter's entrance, with a warning, "Stay back, sir, it might still be booby-trapped."
The major was bleeding from cuts across the temple, jaw and shoulder he didn't even seem to notice.
"Casualties?" Zero asked sharply.
"Jarn, Ejie, Goen dead; Killiv's taken a shock-stick to the throat, he won't make it much longer, sir."
The major held out what looked to Jeb like a pair of rather crumpled envelops. Zero gave them a discomforting glare, before tucking them securely into an inner pocket of his coat.
"A couple of scratches for the rest, nothing serious," the scout leader went on, and then pointed at the sparking thing before them – possibly the display console for the read-out of the perimeter discs, Jeb thought. "Rubber-frocked bastard blew himself up, taking three of his and two of ours with him."
"And half of him," the short major waved dismissively towards the wall where the young Alchemist prisoner had slumped against it, eyes glassy with shock and cradling a literally shredded arm, roughly tied off above the elbow.
"He's out of commission for a while, at least, I'm afraid," Anjil finished his report.
Zero nodded and snapped at the nearest Longcoat soldier, "Get me Fitzalan! He's to find out what blew up here."
The young grey-eyed captain soon hurried over, and started to scan the complicated apparatus. The look on his face was pure Glitch – and there were few things scarier than seeing that look framed by a black leather collar, Jeb decided.
He watched the Longcoat captain – Fitzalan, presumably – crouch to investigate some of the metal splinters on the ground, and then turn back to report.
"The splinters have been magnetized," Cpt. Fitzalan started to explain, holding out his booty to demonstrate how the fragments clung to each other. "And there is a strong magnetic component involved in the process of sending, propagating and receiving an information signal, for example holographic data, over a physical point-to-point or point-to-multipoint transmission medium …"
Going beyond scary, the man even sounded like Glitch on a rant.
Zero seemed less than impressed, he made an impatient noise and the younger officer quickly came to the point. "The strong magnetic field was reversed in polarity and utilized to fling a prearranged cache of metallic shrapnel into the space before the readout console, presumably as a measure against unauthorized use. The reversal also caused a catastrophic inductive feedback loop and …"
The captain caught himself rambling again and visibly skipped another lengthy lecture. "In short, the thing is blown, sir. No energy left in the system for another trap. No use for surveillance, either, I'm afraid, without a thorough overhaul."
"Thank you for the concise explanation, Captain," Zero gave back sarcastically, causing the younger man to duck his head, and then inquired if the explosion had cost them the element of surprise.
It was likely but not certain it had, both Anjil and Fitzalan concurred, which made Zero scowl but then shrug philosophically, before he sent the pair off with orders to make sure the elevator was under upside control.
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Giving in to the strong urge to do something, Jeb asked for and obtained permission to join the black-clad men who were starting to harness the horses and lead them out, removing them from the space of the coming confrontation.