Well, I suppose it is time to wrap up the events on the tanker.
You will have to pardon me if you find significant differences in the way that I tell this tale as opposed to how our dear Rusty would do so. He seems to have taken to this online journaling/writing business, while I write merely to convey information.
The Bane—an old foe that I have known since our run-ins during the Bronze Age in Ancient Greece as Anthraximander—was caught entirely flat-footed by our maneuver. Anthraximander had anticipated that he would be able to create problems for Rusty because of all of the vestiges of the Drashe’en that remained within the poor lad, but he had not anticipated that Rusty would be willing to surrender his body to me.
Before I could deal with my old foe, however, I had to regain control over the Drashe’en insurgency and put ‘Ma Grendel’ (that is a fabulous name for the old gal, if I don’t say so myself) back into place. It was easier for me that it was for Rusty simply because I am just as ruthless and evil as that old bitch ever was. In short order I used my Will to shatter her into the multitudes of shards that Rusty refers to as ‘the Voices’ and shove those pieces back into their appropriate places.
Anthraximander had stood there watching, assuming that his spell was working as planned on Rusty. Ever since I was very young, I have realized that my own ‘Spirit form’ (to use another Rusty-ism) is completely invisible to even the most powerful Casters, it is something that has served me very well over the millennia. Knowing that the Bane would be unable to discern that I was now in control over Rusty’s body, I staggered to my feet and acted as if I was moving to sit upon the throne of the dead that he had wanted Rusty to sit in.
One thing that I have tried to pass on to Rusty, especially in dealing with An’girasii and their servants and allies, is that it is useless to spend much time talking to them. Rusty always seems to find himself engaging in conversations with these creatures, which is completely useless. The one time he had success against a doppelganger was when he used that damn sword of his to lop its head off without any discussion or warning. These creatures use conversation, discussions, and speeches to measure up and then deceive their foes as their weave their own hidden spells to take advantage of their prey. The most effective way in dealing with these enemies is ruthless, merciless, and sudden violence.
Take our friend Anthraximander for an example.
He is rather typical for a Bane. Banes are creatures of almost pure Spirit. They don’t have physical bodies of their own, so they have to possess someone—usually just a normal person of any race or sex—and then consuming the victims’ own Spirit to fuel the transformation of that body into a form that the Bane perceives as having the maximum intimidation factor for other humans. The process of possessing, then molding and shaping that body takes several years at the minimum, and can take decades. By taking on forms that most humans see only in their nightmares and then surrounding themselves with a cadre of undead Reavers, all while wielding equal amounts of magick and fear Banes usually avoid any physical confrontations.
If Rusty had taken my advice from the beginning, he would never have listened to Anthraximander in the first place. He should have continued acting like the killing machine he was designed to be, and left the talking for another time. Instead, he treats these creatures like he’s a liberal social worker on a mission to solve all of the world’s ills.
I didn’t make that mistake. Before Anthraximander could figure out that his tightly woven spells were now useless, I barreled into him, snapping his staff like a twig with one blow. As the creature staggered back and stumbled, I wrapped my left arm around its head and dragged him down in a head lock.
He knew he was in trouble now as I felt the panic rise within him. His scrawny, pasty bald head was now uncovered, revealing the twisted, warped face of a once young Asian man. “What are you doing, Brother?”
I smiled. “You old fool, Anthraximander. You’re not dealing with the kid any more. I hope you didn’t invest too much time in this body, you fool, because you are about to lose it.”
“Only one human knows that name…it cannot be…”
I smiled again as I yanked the head off of its scrawny neck.
The Banes screamed in pain and defiance as its physical body collapsed in a heap. Its Spirit slipped from the body and gathered into a dark mist that hung in the air in front of me.
“How is this possible?”
I dropped the early bloodless head onto the floor and turned my back on the now virtually harmless mist before replying. “I am not inclined to aid you in answering that question, Anthraximander. But, while you search out a new body, you might contemplate what new tactics you and your kind will need to deal with the likes of me again. You caught the kid unaware this time, but that won’t happen again, I can promise you that. Now move along. I have things to do here.”
The black mist that was all that was left of the Bane gathered into a tight ball as I glanced back at it and passed through the hull of the ship into the daylight beyond.
Now that the Bane was physically destroyed, the band of Reavers that depended on its power would collapse back into lifelessness.
As the throne behind me melted into a pile of rotting body parts, I turned and stood over that damnable sword. I could feel its hatred radiating up at me. I couldn’t leave a sword like this laying on this ship would soon be swarming with disgusted sailors and Coast Guardsmen, so I knelt down and held Rusty’s gloved hand over the white hot hilt.
“Look, Blade. I know you detest me as much as I detest you. But let me pick you up long enough to sheath you in that place where Rusty has devised for you and then you can wait for him to return. I will not attempt to use you in any fashion.”
It relented for the brief moment that allowed me to pick it up and sheath it, allowing it to slip back into the Shadowland.
I left the cabin and headed to the helm of the ship, passing the bodies of the Reavers that now lay motionless where they had last stood.
Once at the helm, I pushed aside the slumped body of the Reaver that had been steering the ship and pulled back on the handle that controlled the speed of the engines. Slowly the ship began to stop its forward motion.
Last, I slipped back down to the deck long enough to find the flagpole and hoist the Coast Guard flag that Rusty had been given by that Commander.
I didn’t stick around to see the reaction of the assault teams.
Showing posts with label Coast Guard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Coast Guard. Show all posts
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 6
Stennos took less time than I thought he would need to recover from his. His face was still pale, but he straightened his uniform calmly as he picked up the stub of his cigar, tapped the pile of ashes from the end and took a long draw. He rubbed the end out in the ash tray and looked back up at me, his eyes narrowed.
“So, Agent Bones, what support do you need from me to end this incident your way?”
“I can get to the tanker, Commander, and I believe that I can neutralize the folks that have taken the thing over, but I’ve got no idea how to control a ship like that.” I pulled my phone from the pocket where I kept it. “If that creature on the ship doesn’t fry the circuits on my phone, I will call you to let you know when it will be safe for your people to come board the ship and take control of it.”
“And if your phone doesn’t survive, or you fail to neutralize the terrorists?”
I shrugged. “Do you have a flag I can use?”
He cocked his head. “What kind of flag?”
“Well, how about a Coast Guard flag, if you have a spare? I can raise that up the flagpole of the ship. That should serve to notify your cutters that the ship is safe for boarding. As to my failing to take the enemy out, well, then I guess your friends out there will have their chance to do what I fail to do.”
He sighed. “I was afraid that you would say that.” He moved over to a cabinet that stood next to the window and opened it. He reached in and took out a neatly folded piece of cloth. “Here is a Coast Guard flag. It is my personal flag, so I would certainly appreciate getting it back.” He walked over and set the flag into my outstretched hands. “You’ve shown me things that I never imagined were possible. I don’t know how you did that, or how you’ve come to have these strange abilities, but are sure that you can take on this whole task yourself?”
I took the carefully folded flag and tucked it into place inside my jacket. “Commander, I’ll do my best, I can guarantee that. As much as I might want to have some assistance from your people, I can’t in good conscience take anyone else with me on this mission. It is far too dangerous.”
He nodded. “OK, I’ll take care of my friends out there. How soon will you leave?”
I looked out the window into the bright California sunshine. I had dropped the Shadow covering from the windows upon our return. Everything looked so quiet and peaceful. “I should go soon. I want this over before the sun sets, one way or another.”
He extended his hand to me. I shook it, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Alright, Agent Bones, you take care out there. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I had to admire the man. He had just been taken on a tour of the Shadowland by a pasty-faced, zombie of a federal agent who he was now trusting to avert either a huge environmental disaster or a large scale terrorist attack on an area over which he had responsibility. I didn’t know too many other ‘normal’ people who could have taken all of this in stride as easily as he did. I had seen his Spirit when I first met him, and had decided that he was a strong soul who was also a trustworthy public servant, but I was still surprised to discover the depth of his strength.
He had turned to reach for the door. He stopped just short of opening it however as I called out to him.
“Commander Stennos.”
He turned back to look at me. “Yes, Agent Bones?”
I patted the outside of my jacket where I placed the flag. “I’ll make sure you get your flag back.”
He smiled. His complexion had returned to its normal hue. “I’ll hold you to that, Agent Bones.”
I pulled the Shadow close about and stepped back into the Shadowland.
“So, Agent Bones, what support do you need from me to end this incident your way?”
“I can get to the tanker, Commander, and I believe that I can neutralize the folks that have taken the thing over, but I’ve got no idea how to control a ship like that.” I pulled my phone from the pocket where I kept it. “If that creature on the ship doesn’t fry the circuits on my phone, I will call you to let you know when it will be safe for your people to come board the ship and take control of it.”
“And if your phone doesn’t survive, or you fail to neutralize the terrorists?”
I shrugged. “Do you have a flag I can use?”
He cocked his head. “What kind of flag?”
“Well, how about a Coast Guard flag, if you have a spare? I can raise that up the flagpole of the ship. That should serve to notify your cutters that the ship is safe for boarding. As to my failing to take the enemy out, well, then I guess your friends out there will have their chance to do what I fail to do.”
He sighed. “I was afraid that you would say that.” He moved over to a cabinet that stood next to the window and opened it. He reached in and took out a neatly folded piece of cloth. “Here is a Coast Guard flag. It is my personal flag, so I would certainly appreciate getting it back.” He walked over and set the flag into my outstretched hands. “You’ve shown me things that I never imagined were possible. I don’t know how you did that, or how you’ve come to have these strange abilities, but are sure that you can take on this whole task yourself?”
I took the carefully folded flag and tucked it into place inside my jacket. “Commander, I’ll do my best, I can guarantee that. As much as I might want to have some assistance from your people, I can’t in good conscience take anyone else with me on this mission. It is far too dangerous.”
He nodded. “OK, I’ll take care of my friends out there. How soon will you leave?”
I looked out the window into the bright California sunshine. I had dropped the Shadow covering from the windows upon our return. Everything looked so quiet and peaceful. “I should go soon. I want this over before the sun sets, one way or another.”
He extended his hand to me. I shook it, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Alright, Agent Bones, you take care out there. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I had to admire the man. He had just been taken on a tour of the Shadowland by a pasty-faced, zombie of a federal agent who he was now trusting to avert either a huge environmental disaster or a large scale terrorist attack on an area over which he had responsibility. I didn’t know too many other ‘normal’ people who could have taken all of this in stride as easily as he did. I had seen his Spirit when I first met him, and had decided that he was a strong soul who was also a trustworthy public servant, but I was still surprised to discover the depth of his strength.
He had turned to reach for the door. He stopped just short of opening it however as I called out to him.
“Commander Stennos.”
He turned back to look at me. “Yes, Agent Bones?”
I patted the outside of my jacket where I placed the flag. “I’ll make sure you get your flag back.”
He smiled. His complexion had returned to its normal hue. “I’ll hold you to that, Agent Bones.”
I pulled the Shadow close about and stepped back into the Shadowland.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 5
Before Commander Stennos could reply, the tall man in the dark suit arched his eyebrow at me and spoke up. “This is a Homeland Security matter, Agent Bones, I’m not entirely sure that the Bureau should have been brought into this incident.”
I saw that this could quickly devolve into a pissing contest over turf, so I ignored the man and looked at Stennos square in the eye. “Commander Stennos, are you the current Incident Commander?”
Stennos nodded, obviously unsure of where I was going with that question. “I am. These folks are here to brief me on the assets and capabilities that their agencies can bring to bear on the situation, just as you are Agent Bones.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not here for that.”
That set him back on his heels and seemed to raise the hackles of both of his companions. “What do you mean by that Agent Bones?”
I smiled, making sure to show my less than pearly whites and my blackened gums in the process, knowing how much that tended to unsettle folks. “I’m not here to advise you on anything, or to represent the Bureau in some multi-agency boondoggle. I’m here to solve your problem without blowing that ship up or otherwise causing an environmental disaster.”
That sent all three of them to sputtering. “Excuse me…” “And just how is that even possible?” “How could you…?”
I raised my pale, scarred left hand and waved them silent. “I am not at liberty to discuss my methods with just anyone. Commander, I’ll need to speak to you alone, if you would. The methods and means that I will be using to put an end to this crisis are Top Secret and can only be revealed to the Incident Commander on a need-to-know basis. So, Commander, do you have somewhere that we can speak in private?”
Stennos nodded and pointed the way to the door to his office, despite the sputtering objection of his advisors. “Right this way Agent Bones. I have yet to see any potential solution that doesn’t end in some sort of disaster, so if you have something that will prevent that, I’m all ears.”
I followed him into the well-appointed office that looked out over the Port of Long Beach. A dozen large container ships and the cranes that unloaded them could be seen from the large picture windows opposite his enormous redwood desk. He pulled the door shut behind us and bolted the lock into place. “I don’t see how you can really offer much of a solution to this crisis, Agent Bones, but I am more than thankful just to have a break from all of those nattering harpies out there.” He slid behind his desk and plopped down into the plush leather chair and opened the lid of cigar box. “Would you like a smoke?”
“No thanks, Commander. I haven’t been able to enjoy a smoke in years.”
He went through the ritual of preparing the cigar for smoking. He carefully broke the seal of the clear cellophane, pealed it off, and brought the cigar to his nose, giving it a good, long sniff to absorb the aroma of the raw tobacco. He looked back up at me, only to see me glancing out the window to the busy port outside.
“Thank you for allowing an old man his indulgence. But this situation is truly grave. So if you really do have a solution to this situation, I need to hear it soon.” He waved dismissively with the cigar at the door behind me to the conference room before bringing it back down and slicing one end of the cigar off. “Those harpies won’t give us much time before they insist on creating the largest oil spill in the history of California.”
I reached into the same pocket that contained my credentials and pulled out the small envelope that I had been saving for just this kind of situation. It had been given to me by Zulu after I had recovered from the incident involving Ma Grendel. It was sealed with the personal seal of the President of the United States. “Bones,” Zulu had said at the time, “this envelope contains evidence that you speak with the full faith and confidence of the President. Keep it with you at all times, but don’t use it unless it absolutely necessary.”
“Commander, you are about to hear some very strange claims come out of my mouth. I am also going to take you on a small demonstration of what I am going to claim to do, but this letter will serve as confirmation that I am not as crazy as all of this will sound. I would like you to open this letter and read the contents.”
He put down his lighter after getting the cigar lit and reached out to take the letter with his left hand. His eyes grew wide as he noted the seal on the flap. Without saying anything else, he picked up his letter opener and carefully slit the envelope open, pulling the parchment out.
His eyes grew even wider as read the document, his lips moving silently to form the words as he read them. He set the cigar down into the large, spotless glass ashtray and took the letter in both hands, bringing it closer to his nose.
He put the letter down on the desk as far away from him as he could reach, picked the cigar back up and took a couple of deep draughts on the thing. He finally looked back up at me.
“OK, Agent Bones, that’s the strongest letter of recommendation that I’ve ever seen. But I still don’t know how you will be able to help end this situation.”
I nodded. “I understand, Commander. I’m about to show you how I’ll be able to help, but you needed to see that first, for your own sanity, if nothing else.” I approached the large glass windows and passed my hand across them, from right to left. A curtain of Shadow fell across the windows, plunging the room into almost total darkness. By the time I finished, the only light in the room was coming from the red glow of his cigar, the blinking of the voice mail button on his desk phone, and my own red eyes.
“What the hell…?”
“Relax, Commander. I will turn on a light for you in a moment.”
Once the windows were obscured, I stepped up to the lamp that sat on his desk and pulled the string that caused the fluorescent light to flicker on.
“How did you do that?” He was pointing to black curtains of Shadow over the windows.
I shook my head. “You might as well save your questions until I’m done, Commander. Are you a religious man?”
He nodded. “I don’t know too many sailors who aren’t.”
“Very well then. What you are about to see and experience may well challenge some of your most dearly held religious beliefs, and for that I am sorry. It is not my intent, nor my desire, to bring about a crisis of faith for you, but I am going to have to show you some things that may spur one. If you would, please come over here. It would be best if you left the cigar in the ashtray.”
He complied, moving to stand right next to me as indicated.
“We’re going on a small trip. We’ll be back before your cigar burns out.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, hoping to reassure him. He flinched at my touch. “You’ll be safe with me, but don’t try to leave my side.”
To his credit, he straightened out to his full stature and simply said “I’m ready, Agent Bones.”
I called the Shadow to envelop us and took him on a unique tour of his facility and the Port of Long Beach.
I saw that this could quickly devolve into a pissing contest over turf, so I ignored the man and looked at Stennos square in the eye. “Commander Stennos, are you the current Incident Commander?”
Stennos nodded, obviously unsure of where I was going with that question. “I am. These folks are here to brief me on the assets and capabilities that their agencies can bring to bear on the situation, just as you are Agent Bones.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not here for that.”
That set him back on his heels and seemed to raise the hackles of both of his companions. “What do you mean by that Agent Bones?”
I smiled, making sure to show my less than pearly whites and my blackened gums in the process, knowing how much that tended to unsettle folks. “I’m not here to advise you on anything, or to represent the Bureau in some multi-agency boondoggle. I’m here to solve your problem without blowing that ship up or otherwise causing an environmental disaster.”
That sent all three of them to sputtering. “Excuse me…” “And just how is that even possible?” “How could you…?”
I raised my pale, scarred left hand and waved them silent. “I am not at liberty to discuss my methods with just anyone. Commander, I’ll need to speak to you alone, if you would. The methods and means that I will be using to put an end to this crisis are Top Secret and can only be revealed to the Incident Commander on a need-to-know basis. So, Commander, do you have somewhere that we can speak in private?”
Stennos nodded and pointed the way to the door to his office, despite the sputtering objection of his advisors. “Right this way Agent Bones. I have yet to see any potential solution that doesn’t end in some sort of disaster, so if you have something that will prevent that, I’m all ears.”
I followed him into the well-appointed office that looked out over the Port of Long Beach. A dozen large container ships and the cranes that unloaded them could be seen from the large picture windows opposite his enormous redwood desk. He pulled the door shut behind us and bolted the lock into place. “I don’t see how you can really offer much of a solution to this crisis, Agent Bones, but I am more than thankful just to have a break from all of those nattering harpies out there.” He slid behind his desk and plopped down into the plush leather chair and opened the lid of cigar box. “Would you like a smoke?”
“No thanks, Commander. I haven’t been able to enjoy a smoke in years.”
He went through the ritual of preparing the cigar for smoking. He carefully broke the seal of the clear cellophane, pealed it off, and brought the cigar to his nose, giving it a good, long sniff to absorb the aroma of the raw tobacco. He looked back up at me, only to see me glancing out the window to the busy port outside.
“Thank you for allowing an old man his indulgence. But this situation is truly grave. So if you really do have a solution to this situation, I need to hear it soon.” He waved dismissively with the cigar at the door behind me to the conference room before bringing it back down and slicing one end of the cigar off. “Those harpies won’t give us much time before they insist on creating the largest oil spill in the history of California.”
I reached into the same pocket that contained my credentials and pulled out the small envelope that I had been saving for just this kind of situation. It had been given to me by Zulu after I had recovered from the incident involving Ma Grendel. It was sealed with the personal seal of the President of the United States. “Bones,” Zulu had said at the time, “this envelope contains evidence that you speak with the full faith and confidence of the President. Keep it with you at all times, but don’t use it unless it absolutely necessary.”
“Commander, you are about to hear some very strange claims come out of my mouth. I am also going to take you on a small demonstration of what I am going to claim to do, but this letter will serve as confirmation that I am not as crazy as all of this will sound. I would like you to open this letter and read the contents.”
He put down his lighter after getting the cigar lit and reached out to take the letter with his left hand. His eyes grew wide as he noted the seal on the flap. Without saying anything else, he picked up his letter opener and carefully slit the envelope open, pulling the parchment out.
His eyes grew even wider as read the document, his lips moving silently to form the words as he read them. He set the cigar down into the large, spotless glass ashtray and took the letter in both hands, bringing it closer to his nose.
He put the letter down on the desk as far away from him as he could reach, picked the cigar back up and took a couple of deep draughts on the thing. He finally looked back up at me.
“OK, Agent Bones, that’s the strongest letter of recommendation that I’ve ever seen. But I still don’t know how you will be able to help end this situation.”
I nodded. “I understand, Commander. I’m about to show you how I’ll be able to help, but you needed to see that first, for your own sanity, if nothing else.” I approached the large glass windows and passed my hand across them, from right to left. A curtain of Shadow fell across the windows, plunging the room into almost total darkness. By the time I finished, the only light in the room was coming from the red glow of his cigar, the blinking of the voice mail button on his desk phone, and my own red eyes.
“What the hell…?”
“Relax, Commander. I will turn on a light for you in a moment.”
Once the windows were obscured, I stepped up to the lamp that sat on his desk and pulled the string that caused the fluorescent light to flicker on.
“How did you do that?” He was pointing to black curtains of Shadow over the windows.
I shook my head. “You might as well save your questions until I’m done, Commander. Are you a religious man?”
He nodded. “I don’t know too many sailors who aren’t.”
“Very well then. What you are about to see and experience may well challenge some of your most dearly held religious beliefs, and for that I am sorry. It is not my intent, nor my desire, to bring about a crisis of faith for you, but I am going to have to show you some things that may spur one. If you would, please come over here. It would be best if you left the cigar in the ashtray.”
He complied, moving to stand right next to me as indicated.
“We’re going on a small trip. We’ll be back before your cigar burns out.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, hoping to reassure him. He flinched at my touch. “You’ll be safe with me, but don’t try to leave my side.”
To his credit, he straightened out to his full stature and simply said “I’m ready, Agent Bones.”
I called the Shadow to envelop us and took him on a unique tour of his facility and the Port of Long Beach.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 4
I was glad that Commander Stennos was waiting for me on land. I emerged from the Shadowland and into a dark storage room at the Coast Guard station at Long Beach, California. I was kind of dreading the next trip that I would have to make through the Shadow, since it would necessarily involve trying to land precisely on a ship that was traveling across the ocean.
The open water was one of the most dangerous areas of the Shadowland. The creatures and entities that lurked within the chaotic, turbulent oceans and lakes of the Shadowland were very reminiscent of the monsters that ancient mapmakers drew along the edges of unknown waters. I had learned that lesson the hard way very early on, but that will be a story for another time.
Stepping up to the closed door of the storage room, I discovered that it was locked. I didn’t want to destroy the door, and I didn’t really want to emerge from the Shadow in full view of the maintenance crews working in the repair bay on the other side of the door, so I had to resort to another trick that I had learned recently.
I placed my hand over the lock and closed my eyes. I called upon the Shadow to coalesce inside the lock itself, filling the gaps that the key would, and turned the ShadowKey with a twist of the wrist. The lock clicked, allowing me to open the now unlocked door. I smiled as I did so. That was going to be a handy skill to have.
“Hey, who the hell are you and how did you get in there?”
I held up my empty hands to show that I wasn’t a threat to anyone. There were three fresh faced young men in their late teens or early twenties lined up next to the heavy set, older NCO with oil-darkened hands who had challenged me as soon as he saw me open the door.
“I’m sorry, I must have gotten lost.” I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my badge and credentials, flashing them with practiced ease. “I’m Special Agent Rusty Bones of the FBI, I’m looking for Commander Stennos.”
The NCO grunted, bobbed his head towards one of his young charges. “Johnson, escort this…agent…to the Commander’s office.” He picked up his wrench, shaking his head as he looked back to the disassembled boat motor laid out in pieces his workbench. “I don’t know how you ended up in that room, Mister, but I would appreciate it if you remain with Johnson here, he’ll make sure you get to the conference room with all of the other muckety-mucks.”
“I appreciate it. I’m not too familiar with your facility.”
I followed the shy young man as he led me through the warren of hallways, stairs and doors until I found myself in a large, airy conference room with several Coast Guard, Navy and Air Force officers joined by several other men and women in the professional attire of civilian officials.
Commander Stennos was a short, solid looking man with a balding pate, a broad, lined face, and the dark complexion of his Mediterranean heritage. He was speaking with a taller man in a dark suit and a female officer in Navy dress whites as I entered.
The room fell silent as I crossed the threshold, leaving the young mechanic to return to his tasks. I flashed my credentials again as I moved towards Commander Stennos. “Hello Commander, Agent Rusty Bones.”
His eyes narrowed as he glanced at my credentials and extended his right hand. “Agent Bones, I’m glad that you’re here. I don’t know how you got here so quickly, but you were true to your word.”
The Navy officer looked me up down disapprovingly. “Commander, didn’t you say this Agent was coming from Michigan?” She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she looked me in the eye. “How did you get here so quickly?”
I shrugged, knowing that none of these folks would believe me if I actually told them how. “I am from Michigan, but you happened to catch me out visiting a friend in LA. I was worried about traffic, which is why I asked for an hour.”
Stennos nodded. “You should have said something when we spoke. I could have sent a driver for you.”
I shot him a grin. “No worries. I’m here now. So are there any changes to the situation in the last hour?”
The open water was one of the most dangerous areas of the Shadowland. The creatures and entities that lurked within the chaotic, turbulent oceans and lakes of the Shadowland were very reminiscent of the monsters that ancient mapmakers drew along the edges of unknown waters. I had learned that lesson the hard way very early on, but that will be a story for another time.
Stepping up to the closed door of the storage room, I discovered that it was locked. I didn’t want to destroy the door, and I didn’t really want to emerge from the Shadow in full view of the maintenance crews working in the repair bay on the other side of the door, so I had to resort to another trick that I had learned recently.
I placed my hand over the lock and closed my eyes. I called upon the Shadow to coalesce inside the lock itself, filling the gaps that the key would, and turned the ShadowKey with a twist of the wrist. The lock clicked, allowing me to open the now unlocked door. I smiled as I did so. That was going to be a handy skill to have.
“Hey, who the hell are you and how did you get in there?”
I held up my empty hands to show that I wasn’t a threat to anyone. There were three fresh faced young men in their late teens or early twenties lined up next to the heavy set, older NCO with oil-darkened hands who had challenged me as soon as he saw me open the door.
“I’m sorry, I must have gotten lost.” I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my badge and credentials, flashing them with practiced ease. “I’m Special Agent Rusty Bones of the FBI, I’m looking for Commander Stennos.”
The NCO grunted, bobbed his head towards one of his young charges. “Johnson, escort this…agent…to the Commander’s office.” He picked up his wrench, shaking his head as he looked back to the disassembled boat motor laid out in pieces his workbench. “I don’t know how you ended up in that room, Mister, but I would appreciate it if you remain with Johnson here, he’ll make sure you get to the conference room with all of the other muckety-mucks.”
“I appreciate it. I’m not too familiar with your facility.”
I followed the shy young man as he led me through the warren of hallways, stairs and doors until I found myself in a large, airy conference room with several Coast Guard, Navy and Air Force officers joined by several other men and women in the professional attire of civilian officials.
Commander Stennos was a short, solid looking man with a balding pate, a broad, lined face, and the dark complexion of his Mediterranean heritage. He was speaking with a taller man in a dark suit and a female officer in Navy dress whites as I entered.
The room fell silent as I crossed the threshold, leaving the young mechanic to return to his tasks. I flashed my credentials again as I moved towards Commander Stennos. “Hello Commander, Agent Rusty Bones.”
His eyes narrowed as he glanced at my credentials and extended his right hand. “Agent Bones, I’m glad that you’re here. I don’t know how you got here so quickly, but you were true to your word.”
The Navy officer looked me up down disapprovingly. “Commander, didn’t you say this Agent was coming from Michigan?” She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she looked me in the eye. “How did you get here so quickly?”
I shrugged, knowing that none of these folks would believe me if I actually told them how. “I am from Michigan, but you happened to catch me out visiting a friend in LA. I was worried about traffic, which is why I asked for an hour.”
Stennos nodded. “You should have said something when we spoke. I could have sent a driver for you.”
I shot him a grin. “No worries. I’m here now. So are there any changes to the situation in the last hour?”
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 3
I closed down the SecureNet connection from my laptop and sat back, thinking.
I was obviously going to have to get on that damn ship, but how strong was that…creature…with the staff? Were those undead crewman zombies or were they some other kind of unknown undead creatures? What were these things doing on a tanker full of crude oil heading to the US?
As I tried to come up with some coherent answers to those questions, I remembered a snippet of the really long conversation that I had with Drake at Yggsdrasil this last time.
***
“My father and the rest of the An’girasii will not try to take direct control of any population, but with use their angelic image and the religious imagery of the people they are trying to fool in order to gain control of their hearts and minds.
“They have any number of very dark and evil looking servants who serve them in secret. The Doppelgangers are one example but there are others as well. It should be quite obvious by now how the Doppelgangers operate. But you haven’t yet seen the full arsenal of servants that the An’girasii have to call upon.”
“So why don’t you enlighten me then, Drake?”
He laughed. “Rusty, you have no idea how many of humanity’s nightmares are based in reality. The An’girasii have dozens of different orders of secret servants that they use to sow terror, chaos, and discord so that they can ‘ride’ in to save the day.”
“Such as?”
“Well, if you haven’t seen them already, you are likely to soon encounter the Banes and their servants the Reavers.”
“What the hell is a Bane?”
“The Banes are a race of foul creatures that have been some of the most reliable and predictable servants of the An’girasii over the eons. They are tall, thin creatures that cause disease and terror wherever they go. Many of the worst epidemics of disease in the history of human kind were caused by their activities. They are also Casters of tremendous power; each one would be a good rival of El Diablito on the scale of raw power, although their powers tend to be more focused darkness, shadow, deception and Necromancy. I have known some to have command over elemental powers such as water or air as well, but those are rare.
“The Banes have been dormant for quite some time. The last time I faced them was during the Black Death that ravaged Europe, but I have heard that some of them had gone to ground in very remote locations in Africa and Asia. Wherever the Banes show up, they are likely to be accompanied by a retinue of Reavers.”
“So what are these Reavers then?”
“Reavers are created by Banes from humans they come into contact with. They are usually low-life riffraff such as criminals, pirates, mercenaries, or other types of men who harbor a certain amount of evil within themselves. The Bane promises these men (very rarely will they be women) eternal life and power beyond their comprehension to serve them. They immediately gain an almost supernatural strength, the ability to ignore even grievous wounds, and the inability to experience pain. The longer they are around the Bane, however, the more of their life energy is consumed by the Bane. Almost all of them die within weeks, but then the Bane animates their bodies, calling forth other dark Spirits from beyond the veil to animate the corpses. They are then officially Reavers. The Spirits that are called to serve as Reavers are chaotic and evil in nature, reveling in death and destruction.”
“You know Drake, there’s something awful familiar about this who Bane and Reaver scheme. The Bane promises eternal life and power, eh? I seem to recall some similar discussions with you.”
“Bones, I did what I had to do. I make no claims to being a good person. If I hadn’t taken those actions, you wouldn’t be in the position that you are now in.”
“You prick. If you hadn’t created the Omega Project, none of this shit would have happened in the first damn place.”
“Sorry Bones. However much you might like to think so, I didn’t cause all of the woes of this world. Events have been in motion for hundreds of years, ever since I last helped to defeat the An’girasii. With the rapid changes in human society over the last couple of centuries, I knew that I would no longer be able to defeat the An’girasii and their servants again by myself. I needed allies who were strong enough to face these foes with or without me. The Omega Project accelerated things perhaps a little faster than I was prepared for, but now that I am unable to participate in the battle, you are here to fight in my place, with a set of allies (and even perhaps some enemies) who can help you in this fight.
“You have the strength of the Drashe’en flowing through you now, Bones. You have a body that is as indestructible as I once was, and you have the drive and enthusiasm for the fight that had been ebbing from me.
“Your charge that I had resorted to the tactics of my enemies is all too true. It is precisely that reason that I have fallen. I could not have won this coming battle. I don’t know for sure if you can either, but you and your allies will have a far better chance than I would have.”
That left me speechless for a moment.
“OK, so how do I defeat these creatures? Tell me everything that you can…”
***
“Damn, a Bane is on the move already.”
I reached down and picked up my cell phone. I clicked through the menu, found the last number that called me, and hit the call button.
“Hello, Commander Stennos? Yeah, this is Agent Bones. Tell me your location and I will be there within the hour. I think I might be the only one who can help you with this current situation.”
I was obviously going to have to get on that damn ship, but how strong was that…creature…with the staff? Were those undead crewman zombies or were they some other kind of unknown undead creatures? What were these things doing on a tanker full of crude oil heading to the US?
As I tried to come up with some coherent answers to those questions, I remembered a snippet of the really long conversation that I had with Drake at Yggsdrasil this last time.
***
“My father and the rest of the An’girasii will not try to take direct control of any population, but with use their angelic image and the religious imagery of the people they are trying to fool in order to gain control of their hearts and minds.
“They have any number of very dark and evil looking servants who serve them in secret. The Doppelgangers are one example but there are others as well. It should be quite obvious by now how the Doppelgangers operate. But you haven’t yet seen the full arsenal of servants that the An’girasii have to call upon.”
“So why don’t you enlighten me then, Drake?”
He laughed. “Rusty, you have no idea how many of humanity’s nightmares are based in reality. The An’girasii have dozens of different orders of secret servants that they use to sow terror, chaos, and discord so that they can ‘ride’ in to save the day.”
“Such as?”
“Well, if you haven’t seen them already, you are likely to soon encounter the Banes and their servants the Reavers.”
“What the hell is a Bane?”
“The Banes are a race of foul creatures that have been some of the most reliable and predictable servants of the An’girasii over the eons. They are tall, thin creatures that cause disease and terror wherever they go. Many of the worst epidemics of disease in the history of human kind were caused by their activities. They are also Casters of tremendous power; each one would be a good rival of El Diablito on the scale of raw power, although their powers tend to be more focused darkness, shadow, deception and Necromancy. I have known some to have command over elemental powers such as water or air as well, but those are rare.
“The Banes have been dormant for quite some time. The last time I faced them was during the Black Death that ravaged Europe, but I have heard that some of them had gone to ground in very remote locations in Africa and Asia. Wherever the Banes show up, they are likely to be accompanied by a retinue of Reavers.”
“So what are these Reavers then?”
“Reavers are created by Banes from humans they come into contact with. They are usually low-life riffraff such as criminals, pirates, mercenaries, or other types of men who harbor a certain amount of evil within themselves. The Bane promises these men (very rarely will they be women) eternal life and power beyond their comprehension to serve them. They immediately gain an almost supernatural strength, the ability to ignore even grievous wounds, and the inability to experience pain. The longer they are around the Bane, however, the more of their life energy is consumed by the Bane. Almost all of them die within weeks, but then the Bane animates their bodies, calling forth other dark Spirits from beyond the veil to animate the corpses. They are then officially Reavers. The Spirits that are called to serve as Reavers are chaotic and evil in nature, reveling in death and destruction.”
“You know Drake, there’s something awful familiar about this who Bane and Reaver scheme. The Bane promises eternal life and power, eh? I seem to recall some similar discussions with you.”
“Bones, I did what I had to do. I make no claims to being a good person. If I hadn’t taken those actions, you wouldn’t be in the position that you are now in.”
“You prick. If you hadn’t created the Omega Project, none of this shit would have happened in the first damn place.”
“Sorry Bones. However much you might like to think so, I didn’t cause all of the woes of this world. Events have been in motion for hundreds of years, ever since I last helped to defeat the An’girasii. With the rapid changes in human society over the last couple of centuries, I knew that I would no longer be able to defeat the An’girasii and their servants again by myself. I needed allies who were strong enough to face these foes with or without me. The Omega Project accelerated things perhaps a little faster than I was prepared for, but now that I am unable to participate in the battle, you are here to fight in my place, with a set of allies (and even perhaps some enemies) who can help you in this fight.
“You have the strength of the Drashe’en flowing through you now, Bones. You have a body that is as indestructible as I once was, and you have the drive and enthusiasm for the fight that had been ebbing from me.
“Your charge that I had resorted to the tactics of my enemies is all too true. It is precisely that reason that I have fallen. I could not have won this coming battle. I don’t know for sure if you can either, but you and your allies will have a far better chance than I would have.”
That left me speechless for a moment.
“OK, so how do I defeat these creatures? Tell me everything that you can…”
***
“Damn, a Bane is on the move already.”
I reached down and picked up my cell phone. I clicked through the menu, found the last number that called me, and hit the call button.
“Hello, Commander Stennos? Yeah, this is Agent Bones. Tell me your location and I will be there within the hour. I think I might be the only one who can help you with this current situation.”
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 2
Dear Agent Bones,
The situation is critical and time is very short, so I will be brief.
Approximately 2 weeks ago, the MV Horn of Africa, an independent supertanker flagged out of the Philippines, was hijacked by a small band of pirates in Indonesian waters. All radio communication with the crew of that ship was lost at that time.
That tanker is now steaming at full speed toward the California coast, apparently heading towards Long Beach. At its present speed and course, it will reach that port in less than 24 hours. It does not respond to any of our radio transmissions to stop and be boarded. We have made two attempts to intercept this vessel in the last four hours. On the first such attempt, the tanker failed to alter course or slow down to be boarded. We attempted a high speed boarding maneuver with several smaller boats, but suffered several casualties in the attempt due to the weather and the uncooperative tanker swamping several of the boats before they could get into place.
A second attempt at boarding by an airborne assault team was scuttled when all three helicopters experienced electronic problems as they approached within a couple of hundred yards of the vessel.
This tanker is riding low in the water and is presumed to be full of crude. We have the firepower in place to disable this vessel, but we would run the risk of creating a significant oil spill that would contaminate several hundred miles of California shoreline, which would be an ecological disaster.
To be honest, I don’t know that you can assist in this situation, but I have been referred to you by my superior officers. I have enclosed links to two different video streams of the failed airborne assault of the vessel. Please review this footage and let me know if you can provide any assistance that would avert any potential ecological damage.
Sincerely,
Cmdr J. Stennos
US Coast Guard
I clicked on the link to the first video stream. It took a few moments to for the software to load up and build the buffer.
The first image was of the blurry profile of the immense tanker as the first chopper approached it from the side, not very high above the waves itself.
The cameraman panned down the length of the ship along the deck, but the relatively low altitude of the cameraman meant that the few figure visible on the deck were indistinct. Just as the chopper was rising in altitude and the cameraman was able to begin a focusing on a tall figure walking toward the front of the vessel, that figure pointed a stick-like object towards the camera. The image dissolved and went blank.
Frustrated, I clicked on the second link and waited for the buffer to finish loading up.
The grainy footage began with a distant shot in front of the approaching tanker. The vessel was too far away, and the image too blurry at first, too make out any detail. As the copter and the tanker drew together though, the images became much clearer and the details easier to make out.
The operator of the camera used a zoom feature to get a good view of the bridge of the vessel, showing a shattered window that revealed a strange figure at the helm of the ship.
The figure used to be a man, but his race or ethnicity was no longer apparent, since what flesh remained was black with decay. Large white patches of skull clearly showed through. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to be animate. I noted an eerie resemblance of his bright red dots of fire with my own eyes. Something nefarious was animating this corpse.
As if in response to this gruesome, unbelievable image, the cameraman quickly shifted the lens of the camera to the deck below, near the very front of the ship itself. A small group of figures stood in a loose circle formation.
At the center of the formation was a figure that was taller than the others, but it was stooped over. It was covered by hooded cloak that billowed back in the breeze of the sea, but its body was still obscured by dark robes beneath. The figure leaned heavily on a staff.
Five other smaller figures stood in a loose circle around this central figure. These other figures appeared to be wearing the remnants of t-shirts and jeans, their skin resembling that of the pilot of the vessel, hanging in loose, blackened chunks.
The central figure stood up to its full height, pointing its staff with one long, skeletal thin arm towards the camera. The image disappeared into grey fuzz and then ended altogether.
The situation is critical and time is very short, so I will be brief.
Approximately 2 weeks ago, the MV Horn of Africa, an independent supertanker flagged out of the Philippines, was hijacked by a small band of pirates in Indonesian waters. All radio communication with the crew of that ship was lost at that time.
That tanker is now steaming at full speed toward the California coast, apparently heading towards Long Beach. At its present speed and course, it will reach that port in less than 24 hours. It does not respond to any of our radio transmissions to stop and be boarded. We have made two attempts to intercept this vessel in the last four hours. On the first such attempt, the tanker failed to alter course or slow down to be boarded. We attempted a high speed boarding maneuver with several smaller boats, but suffered several casualties in the attempt due to the weather and the uncooperative tanker swamping several of the boats before they could get into place.
A second attempt at boarding by an airborne assault team was scuttled when all three helicopters experienced electronic problems as they approached within a couple of hundred yards of the vessel.
This tanker is riding low in the water and is presumed to be full of crude. We have the firepower in place to disable this vessel, but we would run the risk of creating a significant oil spill that would contaminate several hundred miles of California shoreline, which would be an ecological disaster.
To be honest, I don’t know that you can assist in this situation, but I have been referred to you by my superior officers. I have enclosed links to two different video streams of the failed airborne assault of the vessel. Please review this footage and let me know if you can provide any assistance that would avert any potential ecological damage.
Sincerely,
Cmdr J. Stennos
US Coast Guard
I clicked on the link to the first video stream. It took a few moments to for the software to load up and build the buffer.
The first image was of the blurry profile of the immense tanker as the first chopper approached it from the side, not very high above the waves itself.
The cameraman panned down the length of the ship along the deck, but the relatively low altitude of the cameraman meant that the few figure visible on the deck were indistinct. Just as the chopper was rising in altitude and the cameraman was able to begin a focusing on a tall figure walking toward the front of the vessel, that figure pointed a stick-like object towards the camera. The image dissolved and went blank.
Frustrated, I clicked on the second link and waited for the buffer to finish loading up.
The grainy footage began with a distant shot in front of the approaching tanker. The vessel was too far away, and the image too blurry at first, too make out any detail. As the copter and the tanker drew together though, the images became much clearer and the details easier to make out.
The operator of the camera used a zoom feature to get a good view of the bridge of the vessel, showing a shattered window that revealed a strange figure at the helm of the ship.
The figure used to be a man, but his race or ethnicity was no longer apparent, since what flesh remained was black with decay. Large white patches of skull clearly showed through. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to be animate. I noted an eerie resemblance of his bright red dots of fire with my own eyes. Something nefarious was animating this corpse.
As if in response to this gruesome, unbelievable image, the cameraman quickly shifted the lens of the camera to the deck below, near the very front of the ship itself. A small group of figures stood in a loose circle formation.
At the center of the formation was a figure that was taller than the others, but it was stooped over. It was covered by hooded cloak that billowed back in the breeze of the sea, but its body was still obscured by dark robes beneath. The figure leaned heavily on a staff.
Five other smaller figures stood in a loose circle around this central figure. These other figures appeared to be wearing the remnants of t-shirts and jeans, their skin resembling that of the pilot of the vessel, hanging in loose, blackened chunks.
The central figure stood up to its full height, pointing its staff with one long, skeletal thin arm towards the camera. The image disappeared into grey fuzz and then ended altogether.
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