"How does this look on the other end? Do we just appear out of nowhere? We're not going to beam down or appear in a blast of light from the sky, are we?" Alex asked.
"Your arrival should be unremarkable," Heimdall answers. "None of you possess the power to manifest as a divine avatar ... yet. Still, it's best to look before crossing the threshold."
"Well unless some squatters took over my place, the apartment should be clear," Lya offers. "And if it isn't, I wouldn't mind scaring the shit out of them for invading my space."
While Alex and Lya ask a few, final questions of Heimdall before departing, Evie makes her way back to the Vantage. Standing before it, she lets herself fall into the same open state she was in when she saw Fenris and the Senator. Quietly, she asks, "Justin Holliwell, where are you right now?"
The magic underlying the Vantage locks in on your target. It is early morning, before dawn by the look of the sky. Distant, snow-covered mountains are limned by the rising sun. That would place Holliwell somewhere up by Lake Flathead, Montana. A large wilderness area, with remote cabins and rentals, and glaciers/mountains to the north.
Holliwell rises. He is wearing the same business garb as before, his shirt a touch more rumpled. There's stubble on his face, and dark circles under his eyes, but a look of determination on his face.
He moves quietly to the door, listening. He slips the latch, peeks out into the hall. This is no remote cabin, it's a lodge. Perhaps his own property. He examines a cabinet in the dining room - it's empty - and then rummages through the drawers. You see his shoulders sag somewhat. Apparently, he'd been hoping to find something. A rifle. A pistol. Something. He didn't trust his captors.
He makes his way to the door and slips out into the cold morning light. Glancing about, he jogs down the road leading ... where? The nearest small town? A highway or gas station where he can flag someone down for help?
And then there's the howl of a wolf. No, several wolves. The alarm on Holliwell's face says it all - that's not normal. He picks up the pace, but glances over his shoulder tell you he is fearful for his life.
He breaks into a run. He departs from the road, where he is in the open, and is crashing through the trees and brush, perhaps a straight-line route to his intended destination.
And is surrounded by the source of the howling. Wolves, closing in on him, acting entirely out of their normal habits. Holliwell spins, and slams into a large man standing behind him. The man is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He seems to be barefoot, and is breathing heavily.
"Good morning, Senator," he says. It is the gravelly, low voice of his captor. "Going somewhere?"
"I should go to my office, then. Grab something normal to wear, hit the stores. We can meet up at ... where, Soul Food? The Dive?" Alex asks.
"Oh man... feels like ages since I've had pie," Lya responds. "Soul Food sounds awesome. We'll head to my place first and hopefully get Rikke situated with Arky before picking up some clothes of our own."
She shakes the pouch of gold pieces at her belt. "I wonder how much we can get for these... because we're going to have to play dress-up big time before they even consider letting us into that boardroom at the Grandview."
"Then, Rikke, food, and shopping," Alex says. "I can foot the bill on clothes. I may not have godly powers, but I have a good credit rating."
"Says the man who defied Odin and let the Mimir finally achieve peace," Klepto mutters as she rolls her eyes.
"Who would be the God of Credit, anyway?" Toxic jokes. "Indebticus?"
Lya snorts and then winks at Alex. "Thanks, Alex... we could use some good tips when it comes to suits."
Evie frowns. 'Near Flathead' is still a big area for anyone to try and search, especially if Fenris decides to move Holliwell. But, at least she has the coordinates for where he is right now, and that's the best she can do. (She's just going to ignore the possibility of him outright killing the senator, for the moment.)
Alright, then. Now that I know where you are, Mr. Possibly-Late-Holliwell, let's see what your replacement is up to.
She refocuses the Vantage, trying to find out where the doppelganger may be and what he is up to.
Evie starts to redirect the Vantage but quickly changes her mind. She drops out of her trance-like state and calls out, "Guys! Holliwell just now tried to escape. He's surrounded by wolves and one of Fenris' gang. I know exactly where he is. If we go, we might be able to save him."
"I don't know what the enemy plans, at this point. Maybe take him back to his room, maybe kill him?"
"If he was kidnapped, then I imagine they want to keep him alive," Lya theorizes. "You never know what might come up for the doppelganger where they'll need more information from him."
She scratches her head. "I don't know... do we launch an attack now, or head back to Vegas first and regroup, hoping that they need to keep the senator alive?"
Evie nods, "If he's still alive, at this point, then I think you are right and there is a good chance that they will keep him that way. But, if he keeps annoying his captors by not being complacent, they might get fed up. Who knows?"
Turning to Heimdall, Evie asks, "If I were to go with them to rescue Holliwell, would I be able to come back here afterward?"
"It's a standard technique for interrogation. Give the subject some hope, then dash it, hard. Show the prisoner that there are no options for escape," Alex said. "I didn't go through SERE. Well, not the course. I lived the real thing, minus getting captured."
"Going back to Vegas would give us an idea of what's going on," Alex said. "There must be something happening that Loki and Fenris want to exploit, circumstances that someone in Holliwell's position can make or break. Holliwell is simply in the wrong place at the right time - a politician who is on hiatus and in a remote location."
Heimdall nods to his daughter. "In this instance, yes. Call my name, and I will open the way."
"Like Ellison with those missile codes," Lya nods in agreement. "He must be on a committee or something to warrant this kind of move. It can't just be because he's a decidedly moderate politician."
"It's just like MOM in criminal investigations - means, opportunity, and motive. Intelligence objectives tend to be about something you are - an important piece in the chain of command; something you possess - a fingerprint or retinal pattern; or something you know - a password or activation code," Alex explained.* "Maybe he's on an important committee, or favored to get a Cabinet appointment, even SecDef."
"Well, let's see. Barring any super-secret stuff, any committee that he's on should be public knowledge," Evie says. "Why don't you guys see what you can dredge up on the net and I'll pop over to see what the doppelganger is doing...if I can." She nods back towards the Vantage.
"I don't see why you don't have Hati or Skoll rip open Holliwell's senatorial head and do some redecorating," Loki was saying. He wasn't there, of course - Laufeyson and Fenris were allies of convenience, it seemed, despite legend having Fenris descended from Loki. Or the Wolf simply knew better than to place unconditional trust in his sire.
Fenris looked at the screen. "Because this is a rush job. Another rush job, thanks to your failure to procure launch codes from Colonel Ellison. Only you could mass an army of Einjehar and piss it away."
"Without me, you would not have the knowledge of other realities from which to choose our tools," Loki said disdainfully.
"I have yet to see the advantage."
"Do you not? I have shown you a future where the All-Father lies dead and you are not a trophy rug in Vidar's mead hall," Loki sneered.
"Yes, I can draw pretty pictures, too. Should I fetch you a box of crayons?" Fenris snapped.
"You need me."
"That is an interesting notion, one which my conversations with Senator Holliwell are giving me second thoughts about," Fenris said, coolly. "The terms 'cleaning house' and 'political deadwood' are quite interesting. Becoming the Senator will be amusing. I'll be able to indulge my feral instincts and call it business."
Fuck me, Evie draws in a sharp breath, dropping out of the vision. She runs a hand over her face worriedly as she moves back to stand before the others.
"Okay, shit's getting real. It's not just any doppelganger taking Holliwell's place. It's Fenris himself," she says, her voice grim.
"But, there is some good...ish news. Loki and Fenris aren't exactly getting along, either. There's tension between them. Fenris blames Loki for losing the launch codes and Loki is reasserting the fact that Fenris needs him to see the other realities. Fenris, though...he's starting to have doubts about that. It might be something that we can use," Evie offers.
"I don't know about Odin dead at his feet, but we might be able to show Loki a future where Ragnarok never happens and everyone is free from their fate," Lya replies. "That has to count for something with him. At the very least, if we can keep sowing the seeds of doubt in their little cabal, maybe we can get them to turn on each other or something."
She turns to Alex with a thought. "Did you see Fenris in your vision? Would you know if he looked like Holliwell when you supposedly kill him?"
She gnaws at her lip in worry. "I saw the death of an important political figure lighting the match to World War III... I hope to all that is holy that it wasn't Holliwell or Fenris. What good is stopping Ragnarok if we can't stop ourselves from destroying each other anyway?"
"No, I didn't have the impression that it was Senator Holliwell," Alex said. "It felt ... I felt, I knew, somehow, that it was Fenris. And he recognized me."
"That's it, of course. It doesn't matter who the face belongs to, someone in the upcoming drama won't be who they appear to be. Too bad my powers don't run in that direction."
Evie nods, "Then I'm going to leave Holliwell and planning to you. I'm going back to the Vantage to not look for cats. I have no idea how long I will be under...if it will be seconds or days. So...yeah. I'll catch up with you either way."
Before she leaves, she quickly types Holliwell's coordinates into a text and zips it off to Alex and Lya's phones so they have that information.
Once again, Evie makes her way to the Vantage. The notion of looking in on yourself is odd, to say the least. But your professional instincts take over, reminding you that you don't solve cases by overlooking things. The Vantage swirls and reforms to your will ...
"Gimme a positon on Twelve!" Evie calls out.
"Crossing over I-15," comes the answer. "They're at the checkpoint."
Other numbers and unit designations are tossed about. You are seeing things from your own perspective. It's a repurposed garage, part of a fleet of yellow cabs parked below. An electronic tally board shows the GPS beacons of units out on the street.
It's chillingly familiar, and you realize it's all police department surplus - perhaps a bit battered, but the cabs include several Ford Crown Victorias with push bumpers on them. No. It's more than that, you realize after another moment or two. There are familiar faces on the floor, faces from the LVPD that you know. And yet, it's more. There's a tension to the atmosphere, a ready-for-trouble sensibility familiar from past protests and conflicts. The police department didn't disband. It didn't go away. It's still here, and you're still a part of its new incarnation.
"... all I know is that the Guard is up to something," one driver is saying. "They've got roving patrols up, and that's never good."
"Well, they just bumped Colonel North up to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, so maybe we'll be rid of him," counters another driver. "Fucking war hero."
"Hey, more than a few of us are veterans," came the objection. "I think the problem is that North believes his own press."
Laughter.
"Yo, Cartwright, are we still on for the supply run?"
"Yes, we are," you hear your own voice reply. "Folks on the other side need our help. Be sure to sweep the vehicles, make sure the Guard didn't slip a tracker on anything."
"On it, Chief."
"Does the Guard know we're getting a supply truck?" Lya asked.
"Yes," Leucosia smiled. "Arky is arranging the ambush."
"And our other surprise?"
"Ready. They'll be forced to ground well short of Nellis. We're figuring the Convention Center or the Country Club, unless we hurt them so badly they have to ground or crash. Parthenope wants to know if we can get more."
"I'll talk to Rusty," Lya smiles.
"Do you think Alex will be there?" Leucosia said, making a mocking moon-eyed expression. "I owe him for killing Phoebe. I even have a special arrow, just for him."
"I miss her too."
"Blood for blood," Leucosis says. "There will be a reckoning."
2She stands there for a second, considering how, exactly, to go about this search. Does she need to be methodical, the way she would if sifting through facts back at her desk, chasing tidbits that lead her to the truth? Or, can she just ask the Vantage to show her what she wants and it will because she knows what she is looking for. The only reason the others haven't seen it is because they weren't looking.
Well, let's try the fast way, first, she thinks to herself. Show me the reality where Odin and Loki do not consult Mimir.
She figures that if that shows and is not what she seeks, she can ask about a reality where Mimir does not exist, next.
"These days I'd be more surprised if I met someone who was what they appeared to be," Lya chuckled dryly. "Evie is going to keep looking, so we'll stick to the plan of getting situated and meeting at the Soul Food Cafe then." She reaches out to shake Alex's hand before preparing to step out onto the Bifrost Bridge. "See you soon!"
At a fundamental level, it's not whether Odin or Loki consult their respective oracles. It's whether they surrender their choices to such devices and artifice. It's giving up an essential human gift: free will - the ability to choose for good or ill, and resigning oneself to an inescapable, pre-ordained future. That because one fails once, one will always fail, that failure is a grim destiny that you cannot escape.
"What will I see?" asks Odin.
"Your fate," Mimir says. "As your steps have led you thus."
"Then let it be revealed," Odin breathes. He clenches his fists, steeling himself against anticipated pain.
"Nay, Borsson, I am no savage. Such is not my craft," Mimir says. "I gain nothing through your pain. Enter the Well, and see. A part of you will remain behind, to remind you of your vision, and to guide others who will follow."
Whoa. Does that mean the act of sacrificing his eye literally blinded Odin to an outcome that didn't involve Ragnarok? And that everyone else, until Lya - a seer with her own gift of prophecy - was able to separate doomsaying from destiny?
I can see clearly now ... the old Johnny Nash tune dances through your thoughts. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind ...
But it isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Not being resigned to Ragnarok doesn't mean there won't be a culmination of strife that has mankind standing on the brink of oblivion before the better angels of his nature kick in and step back.
Nor can you go back in time and undo Odin's seeing.
You suddenly understand that whatever reckoning comes to pass, it won't pitch the universe off the edge, but be an affirmation. A choice to step forward and ascend. And that no matter what the gods or their offspring do, it will be a mortal, in a human moment, making the choice that sets the future in motion.
So, destruction may come, but it will not be the end, not as Odin, Loki and all the rest think, she mulls over what she has seen. A small smile graces her lips, It's good that a human will choose. Free will is, indeed, our gift.
Now, I understand Odin's side of things. Let's see if I can glean a bit more about Loki, she thinks as she turns the Vantage upon her uncle and his encounter with Mimir.
I think that a little understanding will go a long ways towards maybe setting things as they should be...
"I should burn down that hovel and the woods in which it lay," Loki sneers to himself. "Time to stir the pot ..."
Loki's features shimmer and change, resolving into the face of Bob Malcolm. He picks up a cell phone and dials a number.
"Colonel North, please," he says. "Yes. Tell him it's Congressman Malcolm. I'll wait." The ersatz Congressman hums a patriotic tune while he's on hold. "Colonel? Bob Malcolm," he says. "I understand you have a Mika Hanamura in medical quarantine. That's right, Ryder's girl."
Loki rolls his eyes as he takes a pen and conducts an unheard orchestra. "Of course I want her released," he smiled. "It's very simple. I need Ryder to do something, and this is a down-payment. It's also a reminder to you that you owe me more than a few favors, such as hiding the fact that you're one of 'them,' what do you call it? A Scion."
There's a brief pause.
"Exactly. I'm glad you understand the dynamics of our relationship. Hanamura, released. Make it happen."
He hangs up the phone. He speaks to someone off to the side, someone you cannot see, at first.
"Leverage. It's good to be king," he smiles.
"You have arranged an interesting dance," the other person says. A woman, thought it sounds like she's a dispatcher with a three pack-a-day habit.
"I am grateful for your ... assistance," Loki says.
"We all have our roles to play," the woman says. She comes into view, a ... thing ... in a dark kimono patterned with cranes. Her face is withered and skeletal, and was that a maggot writhing inside her smiling mouth? But then her visage undergoes a similar transformation, and you are looking at a woman in stylish business attire. Karen Ryder. Hitoshi's mother… and a player in the game.
Welp. Of course, that's the way it is. Why wouldn't it be? Evie thinks to herself in exasperation as she briefly pulls her consciousness back to the Vantage,
She thinks for a second, her hand straying down to her phone. It couldn't be that easy...could it? Certainly, I wouldn't be able to contact Hitoshi from my reality but, from here?
Won't find out until I try, she begins dialing Hitoshi's number, not at all sure what to expect.
Crossing your fingers, you dial Hitoshi's number.
It rings.
"Ryder Household. This is Asami, how may I help you?" answers a voice you did not expect. It sounds like a young girl.
Evie blinks in surprise, but quickly recovers. Asami. That must be the daughter that I saw when Heimdall showed us Izanami interfering.
"May I speak to Mr. Hitoshi Ryder, please?" Evie asks in her most professional voice. She figures she can make up something about being from a bank or something if Asami asks who is calling but, for now, she'll not offer up that information.
The young girl demonstrates incredible poise. "Just a moment, please."
There's a thunk as the phone is set down on the desk, and you hear footsteps recede, the buzz of conversation, and someone else coming to the phone.
"Hello? I apologize, that was my daughter who answered," says an adult woman. The girl's mother, then. And hadn't Hitoshi explained that he'd failed to save the woman? That's one hell of a bribe. Give him his heart's desire, and put him on the hook.
"I was trying to reach Hitoshi Ryder," you repeat.
"May I ask who is calling?" she says.
Since the group had exchanged numbers, you're certain the Caller ID would be providing the information - and that any misrepresentation would be quickly caught out.
"Evie Cartwright," you say, which is the bare minimum. It's not like your photo has you in uniform or flashing a badge. You could be anyone.
"Is this a business matter?" she asks. Something in her tone tells you the question carries more meaning than it appears to.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm with the bank. I just need his okay to handle some transactions," Evie's not sure what the double-meaning is to "business" but she's certain she doesn't want to seem to be mixed up in that.
She's not sure exactly how money is handled at a casino but...hopefully, this excuse will be enough. Surely there are things that only the CEO could sign off on...
"I see. He'll be with you in just a moment," she says. There is nothing in her tone to suggest she is running interference or looking to trace the call.
Come to think of it, what would a trace look like? You're fairly certain the computers would identify the cell towers, but there's got to be some ... leap where the trace would just dead-end, because the computers aren't going to spit out 'Heimdall's House, Bifrost, Asgard' as an address.
A moment later, you hear Hitoshi's voice among the indistinct buzz of conversation.
"Evie?" he asks.
"Hitoshi! Can you speak freely?" While Evie isn't concerned about a trace, she is concerned about a tap. She wouldn't put it past Loki to have finangled a way to have Hitoshi monitored.
Hitoshi raises hid eyebrows, then walks into his private study and closes the door. He looks at the phone for a moment trying to figure out what to say. "Where in the hell are you?Lya and the others, did everyone make it out of the Castle?"
"Long story. But, yeah...we made it out. I'm currently on the Bifrost doing some recon for the group. Alex and Lya have gone back to our Vegas...not yours," Evie says.
"I'm going to be persona non grata here, soon, so I need to make this fast. Loki is impersonating Malcolm in your reality. He just got off the phone with your reality's Alex to get someone out of holding for you. Alex is a Scion, but Loki is taking steps to hide that. I don't know why Alex is hiding it but...apparently, Alex is in Loki's pocket. Loki is specifically trying to manipulate you into doing something for him as Malcolm. I don't know what, but there it is."
Evie rubs her hand across her forehead, not wanting to go on. Hitoshi is not going to like this next part, not one bit but...he needs to know in order to make decisions, "Another player is impersonating your mother. I'm not familiar with her, but she wears a kimono and looks..unpleasant. Skeletal, almost. A maggot for a tongue? She was talking to Loki about the parts they all have to play."
"And, uhhh...this same person, the woman...she's controlling your wife and child in that reality. I..." Evie stops and heaves a sigh. "I don't know if they are real and she is manipulating them to control you or if they are purely puppets. All I know is that I've seen her in the shadows, and her tendrils were all over them."
Hitoshi frowns and sits down on the edge of the desk in his study.
"I... see... Well I'm running for congress, and it's all Bob Malcom's idea, at least thats the feeling I get."
He pauses.
"Look, I don't know if this room ha s bug or not, or even if this phone is bugged. If there is a bug then it's too late, we crossed that line as soon as you called. Just so you know, Honjo Masamune is broken, and I'm not one hundred percent sure of my abilities. Your sister here is a cab driver, and good old Alex is still in the military. I haven't seen Lya yet, but I think she may be an eco-terrorist. There's actual Maenads running about in unsecured areas of the city, and... Well that could just be me being paranoid."
He sighs. "I'm not sure what's real here. If you and the gang can get here, do so. If you can't, I'll do my best with what I have, but the only thing I can promise is I'll do what I have to stop Ragnarok in this reality."
"Hopefully, it's not bugged. Even if it is, we've just thrown their plans all astray because you know," Evie sighs.
"We spoke to Mimir, the Norse prophet. And Lya has been having visions of you. Everything seems to point towards an assassination that will set off WWIII. Maybe the president? I don't know, but you feature prominently in the politics of it all," Evie pauses and sighs.
"I'm sorry, Hitoshi. I really am. I wish I had better news," she glances over her shoulder, starting to wonder when Odin is going to show up.
"I don't know that we can get to your reality now that Lya and Alex are in our old one. Fenris is taking the place of a politician, there. Shit's getting crazy everywhere," she says. "Do you have any questions while I still have a little time?"
"Can... can you tell if my family is real or not? I mean are they human, or just puppets of this woman." His voice goes soft, and his heart aches as he thinks that Akane and Asami could be just puppet beings. He also thinks he knows who the puppet master could be, and he hopes he's wrong.
"Why would she be working with Lymann? " He thinks to himself.
"I'm not sure," Evie confesses. "What I see is like watching a TV. I see what is happening and it's up to me to interpret that. I suppose I could look to see when they were created. If they are human, I'll get to see some folks knockin' heels. If they aren't, then...I guess I'll see magic or...something. Give me a few minutes and I'll try that. I'll call you right back."
Evie hangs up and goes back to the Vantage. Please, please let them be human...for Hitoshi she thinks before she asks the Vantage to show her both Akane and Asami's creation.
You return to the Vantage, focusing your will upon the moment in question, but it remains elusive. Intangible, because the moment itself has passed. You give a short, stifled snarl of frustration.
"Ah. I know that sound well," Heimdall says from behind your right shoulder. "You are seeking that which has already taken place, to better understand the present. While the Vantage is not a ... time machine, there are few who are better suited to this task than a police detective who unravels the past by discerning what is."
Of course. It's just like a crime scene. The moment is passed, but there will be evidence in its wake. Footprints, fingerprints, hair, fibers, fluids, ballistics ...
... and the answer to how one gets a good man, a smart man, to do something bad. You hold something over his head, something he values more than his own safety and well-being: a wife - a woman he loved, and whom he'd failed to protect before - and a daughter, a blessing that had come out of the darkness of the past.
"... and my wife, Akane," Hitoshi is saying.
The restaurant is quiet. The reason becomes apparent as you realize the rest of the dining room is empty, and government types are standing watch. You've seen that kind of security, of course - Secret Service grade protection for heads of state. Malcolm? No, it's not Malcolm that's sitting at the table, but a familiar, lean and feral face. Fenris.
"I didn't know you were married," Fenris smiles.
You're not sure if that's a social courtesy, or if it's another failure by Loki to keep the Wolf informed.
"And my daughter, Asami," Hitoshi continues. "Asami, this is the President, Justin Holliwell."
"Good evening, Mr. President," Asami says.
"What an adorable little girl," Fenris says.
Asami pouts. "I'm a big girl."
"Of course. My mistake," Fenris says. "I'll be frank, Ryder. I'm doing some reorganizing at the top. Several members of my administration are going to be stepping down. Before the midterms. There are some policy changes I want to implement, and they're dragging their heels and giving me excuses as to why it can't be done."
"How can I be of assistance, Mr. President?" Hitoshi asks.
"Bob Malcolm tells me you're a shoe in for the junior seat," Fenris/Holliwell says. "That's good. Because I'm going to kick you upstairs the moment the ballots are counted. I want you to be my SecDef."
Secretary of Defense?
Evie pulls her consciousness back to herself and ponders what she saw. At first blush, it seems that Asami and Akane must be real. Fenris seemed to genuinely not be aware of Hitoshi's family and one would think that if they were fabricated, that fact would've passed along the enemy ranks. Of course, Loki isn't exactly a team player, either...
Evie assumes that it is well within a god's power to imprint the memory of a family existing within the minds of mortals. Heimdall had told her that her own mother would not remember him. Surely gods can do the opposite, too? The only reason that they would fabricate a family is if they knew that this Hitoshi isn't Yakuza Hitoshi. Even for a god, she imagines that imprinting so many people would be a hassle, at the very least. So, the real question is, do they know?
Probably not. Everything would've had to be in place the exact moment that he arrived in that reality. The puppets would need to be made and people imprinted in that instant after Yakuza Hitoshi...faded? disappeared? was eaten by Casino Hitoshi? Seems like a lot of planning for something that they probably had no idea was going to happen. Loki had no clue that they would destroy the castle and that is when Hitoshi disappeared. No, the whole thing would've caught them by surprise.
Besides, real, living people offer far more incentive to do as they say. There's always the chance that am imprint could fail to adhere properly and be overcome. If you saw made love to your wife, saw your child born...those offer far greater and more permanent leverage.
Evie gives it a few minutes before calling Hitoshi back. The timing of things in Midgard versus Asgard seems off and she doesn't want to call in the middle of that particular meeting.
(Meanwhile...)
Although this has already happened from Hitoshi's perspective ...
The searchlight played across the street strewn with rubble. Destroyed buildings, abandoned and wrecked vehicles, burnt garbage. But even with the arc light, there were shadows. Too many shadows. Guardsmen standing watch by the I-15 Break had learned not to underestimate them. A dilapidated panel van made its way down the street. It was hard to tell if it was an old parcel delivery vehicle or just brown with rust. A faded logo made it out as belonging to Henderson Salvage & Storage, a junk yard well behind the line.
"Command, Parker," said the sentry. "Got some scavengers crossing the line, looks like."
"Parker, Command. Coming or going?"
"Going. Bust 'em for smuggling?"
"Does it look like we need to?"
"Nah, they're just slinking back to the- holy shit! Red One! Red One! We are under atta-"
The roof of the van had popped open, and a Maenad holding a makeshift flamethrower sprayed the line, engulfing the Guardsman who had been watching them. But it hadn't been just flame - it had been a burst of flame igniting a stream of Greek fire. An ululating cry cut through the night. More Guardsmen responded, coming to the wall with shields and automatic rifles, opening fire on the panel van. Instead of flying open, the rear doors dropped like a landing ramp, revealing two ranks of archers. Arrows flew, sailing out of the blackness to skewer Guardsmen.
"Take out that van!" one officer shouted.
The Guardsmen directed their fire, but the back of the van was empty. The Maenads had fired and scattered, moving to secondary positions where they were joined by other archers, and several more volleys cut through the night.
"Lights full!" came an order over the loudspeakers, and a battery of arc lights cut through the darkness with blinding power. Caught in the open, the Maenads began taking casualties. And then there was another figure atop the van, a man with shoulder-length blonde hair and a bronzed physique. He spread his arms wide, and there was a flash ...
... the Maenads made quick work of the Guardsmen, scaling the walls and dispatching the poor, disoriented bastards. Weapons and ammo were salvaged and pass back along the line. Trophies, mostly dog tags, were claimed.
The doors on either side of the bulwark were thrown open.
"Bring it on through!" Lya's voice shouted over a radio.
"Rolling!" replied another voice. A line of vehicles, a convoy of trucks interspersed with jeeps and makeshift armored platforms rolled through the open doors. It was the real supply convoy, bringing necessary supplies through to the people on the wrong side of the I-15 Break. Food. Water. Medicine. Some of Evie's people peeled off and hot-wired the Bradley Fighting Vehicles within the Guard's line. It had never been their intent to start a shooting war, but that's what it had come to. Even more supplies were liberated from the outpost.
"North isn't here," Parthenope sneered. "Coward."
"Got a promotion for shooting Phoebe, did he?" spat Thelxiepeia. "I know he's a Scion, but he's siding with the Titans. He's a dead man."
"He'll be with the President. They don't have a checkpoint anymore, and we can bring our people through in numbers," Lya said.
"With you to the end, Lya," Parthenope affirmed.
"Target inbound," came the transmission. "Red Five, looks like they're yours."
"Red Five, standing by." The Maenad manning the radio nodded to her companions.
"Oooooh, pretty," sneered one, watching the approaching helicopter. "Shoot it, kill it, make it bleed."
The other Maenad angled her launcher. "Come to Kleptolmne, darling ..."
"Nellis reports a small crowd of protesters out by the main gate," the Secret Service agent told President Holliwell. "I'm not worried yet, but something's up. Didn't hear anything from our usual sources."
"Keep me appraised, Alaric," Holliwell nodded.
The helicopter lurched suddenly. The agent dropped into his seat and fastened his harness. "Shit just got real, Sir. That was SAM fire." A Marine crewman listened to his headset. "Mr. President, we took a hit. It's serious, but we'll make it to ground," he reported. "Recommend the Las Vegas Country Club. We've been there before and know how to secure it. We'll get you on the ground, and then call in the reserve chopper from Nellis."
Holliwell nodded. "Make it happen, Sergeant."
Fenris smiled and gave reassuring nods to the flight crew and agents travelling with him. It was finally coming together, after decades of delays and miscues. The right combination of people, places, and things.
Ragnarok would unfold with the swiftness foretold in legend. It would be glorious.
The pilot brought Marine One in for a landing on the strip of lawn between the clubhouse and the links. The Marines threw open the doors and deployed, forming an armed cordon. Secret Service agents bundled President Holliwell out of the chopper and into the clubhouse proper. Inquiries by the staff were met with icy silence.
"All right, secure the chopper and get a defensive perimeter up," Rick Krieger told his people. "Three men on the roof, report on the quarter hour! Let's shag it!"
President Holliwell takes note of two particular diners.
"All right, can we get some additional troops down here?" he's asking. "North! What am I paying you for?"
"We've got your back, Mr. President," North says. He takes out his smartphone and starts making calls.
"And Ryder. All right, screw Congress," he says. "We've got a situation here. You're acting Secretary of Defense, period."