Shadow Fall (The Shadow Saga) (52 page)

“What happened to you?”

Donalson grimaced, “Nothing I can’t handle on my own.” He held a single paper in his hand, and despite his usual regard for decorum he did not bother with a bow or formal greeting. “Please, sir, tell me this report is not true.”

Alexander glanced at the paper and saw the grand admiral struggle not to crumple it in his fist.
He is angry, good. Angry men are easy to control
. “What report is that?”

“Apparently Chief Advisor Gordon Drake has been assassinated, and
we
are responsible.”

“Gordon Drake was a traitor,” Alexander snapped. “And I would think you of all people would rejoice at one less enemy to worry about. What you should be asking is how we can lay his compatriots alongside him.”

“Sir,” Donalson said. “I bear no love for any of the former Council members, but if you had consulted me on this I would have advised against it. You have crossed a line that Sullivan would not have thought to cross on his own, but now you can be assured that he will. You have placed yourself in danger by ordering this.”

“And I have struck fear into our enemies,” Alexander sneered. “When those shots were fired and Drake went down, Sullivan stood right next to him. They could have killed him instead, but their orders were to leave him alive.”

“Why?”

“Because I want him to live with the fear,” the MWR replied. “I want him to feel that same helplessness that he felt when he ran from me like a dog with his tail between his legs. And I want him to know, as long as possible, that one day I will come for him. Only after I have destroyed everything he desires, everything he has built, will I allow him to die. This is what happens to the enemies of Napoleon Alexander, Grand Admiral. No heroic deaths. Only tragedy.” He stepped around his desk and snatched the report out of the grand admiral’s hand. He ripped it to shreds and cast the pieces on his desk.

“We will speak of this no more today. Another event must claim our attention. Everything is prepared, I presume?”

Donalson’s lips were thin, but he knew better than to press Alexander when he declared a subject closed. “The soldiers are in place, sir, and Specter should be arriving shortly.”

“And the girl?”

“In transit soon enough.”

“Excellent,” Alexander’s voice was calm and chilling. “Make sure she is well guarded. I’ll not have her escape before our moment of triumph.”
Not like last time, with that foolish little boy
.

“You should know, sir, that there is still a chance the rebellion could override our systems the same way they did this morning.”

Alexander tasted bile in his throat. It had taken hours for the soldiers to find the device McCall had been carrying, and even longer to discover that it was keeping the power off. No doubt he had intended it to cause chaos and prevent Alexander from calling for assistance. If not for Donalson’s timely arrival, it might have worked.

One flip of the switch on the small cylinder’s side, and the power came back on immediately. Alexander had never seen such technology, and preferred to keep its existence a secret. Only he and the soldiers who found it were aware, and those soldiers might meet unfortunate ends before the week was over. For now, the device was safe in his desk drawer. Such power might be useful one day.

There was always the possibility that a second device was out there somewhere, but for now he had to take that chance.

“Make sure whoever is in charge at Communications knows,” he began coldly, “if they allow anything to ruin this night for me, there are worse ways to die than burning.”

“Yes, sir. But I must reiterate my concern at your presence in the Square. There was an attack in the city this morning...an entire squad lost. It would have taken at least ten to take them out, maybe more. The rebellion is still here, and they will come for her.”

“I hope they do,” Alexander said. “We will have some surprises to throw their way. See to the final preparations.”

Donalson departed, and Alexander turned back to the window and the approaching storm. “The sun may rise tomorrow,” he whispered menacingly. “But Grace Sawyer shall not.”

-X-

Derek waited patiently for the Specter Captain in the docking bay of the Specter Spire while the remainder of his teammates boarded the Halo-4 that would take them all to their posts in the Central Square. The men amazed him with their perseverance. Faced with the perceived betrayal of their captain and then the loss of their mentor, it was a wonder that they held together at all.

But they were strong soldiers, else they would not have been chosen for Specter in the first place. Commanding officers come and go—they had all been forced to learn that over the years—but the mission remained. Still, even Derek had to admit he had doubts about 301’s ability to step into the admiral’s role as head of the Specter Spire. He cared deeply for the man, the only true friend he had ever known, but his encounters with the rebellion and his erratic behavior when it came to Grace Sawyer made Derek suspicious of him. It was the last thing he wanted to feel, but his duty as a soldier demanded nothing less.

Perhaps in time he could come to trust his partner implicitly again, as he had in the aftermath of Jacob Sawyer’s death. But until then he could not deny that 301 had fallen victim to the wiles of the Elect, whose allure was powerful enough to overcome even the greatest loyalties. His own family proved that. But when 301 at last entered the docking bay he let it all go and greeted his partner with a smile, “Captain. You’re late.”

301 returned the smile, though it turned grim as he looked toward the Halo. Several of the Specters outside had stopped conversing to stare at them, their looks a mixture of distrust and open hostility. “The men are ready, I see. But will they follow my lead with the old man gone?”

“They will follow
my
lead,” Derek assured.

A tense silence stretched between them, and for a moment Derek considered amending his statement. He decided not to, however, as he realized that he meant what he said. A slow resignation spread over 301’s expression and he nodded, “So the question is: will
you
follow my lead?”

“So long as you lead in the direction that benefits the World System, Captain,” Derek said. “I will follow wherever you go. Stray from that, and you’re on your own.”

“I suppose I can’t ask for anything more,” 301 replied.

“We await your order to depart.”

“Then give it,” 301 said. “We must arrive in time to make our final preparations.”

Derek grabbed 301’s arm as he tried to turn toward the Halo, stopping him in his tracks, “Before we go there’s something I need to hear from you. I need to know that if the rebellion tries anything tonight, I can count on you to do the right thing.”

Fire shone in the Specter Captain’s eyes, but Derek was not sure it was the kind he wanted to see. “I know things have been strained between us since the Communications Tower, Derek. Few have ever sacrificed as much for me as you have—and I know what it has cost you. If it is any consolation, you would have made an excellent Specter Captain—perhaps a better one than me.”

“I appreciate that,” Derek said. “But it still doesn’t answer my question.”

“I will make everything right,” 301 said with conviction. “I swear to you I will.”

“Then why do I get the feeling you’re telling me goodbye?”

301 hesitated, and Derek couldn’t help but notice his partner’s reluctance to look him in the eye, “After this Specter will begin to grow beyond us. We will take command of our own troops and go our separate ways, to wherever this new war with the Ruling Council takes us. But before that happens, I want you to know that serving with you has been a great honor—perhaps one of the greatest of my life.”

Derek felt sick. He had seen this sentiment in many men before and knew beyond doubt what it meant. The Specter Captain did not intend to return from the Central Square that night. The look in his eyes was the look of a man prepared to die. What that said about his intentions, Derek could not guess. He placed a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “No, Specter Captain. The honor has been mine. And I like to think our paths will cross again one day, no matter where fate takes us.”

“Watch your back out there tonight, Derek.”

“I’ll have an eye for mine and an eye for yours,” he promised.
And with that same eye I’ll be watching to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.

“Alright,” 301 nodded. “Let’s go.”

43

T
HEY CAME FOR HER
not long after 301’s departure, a procession of shadows that moved along the walls. She dried her cheeks, stained with the tears of her shame and regret, and rose to her feet.
Why couldn’t I have just said it
? she asked herself for the hundredth time.
I do not love you
, words that if spoken might have saved 301’s life. It was so simple now in hindsight, but at the time it had seemed earth shattering.

The journey from the palace dungeon to the Central Square was short. They shackled her arms and her feet before herding her out of the dark tunnel and into an armored military vehicle. A small part of her hoped for rescue while in transit, but had she been in command she would not have risked it. The better part of her—the courageous part—hoped that Davian and Crenshaw came to the same conclusion. They took her in a back way to avoid the mass of people already gathered in the Square. She did not see them, but she could hear them—a constant rumble that drowned out the thunder from the approaching storm.

When they took her from the car and removed her shackles, she knew her time had come. Her limbs felt weak, and they shook slightly from fear. She had never been afraid of death itself…it was more the act of dying that terrified her, especially the cruel end Napoleon Alexander had planned.

She stepped up to the makeshift doors, the last barrier between her and the crowd—the last door she would ever pass through. Moonlight played across her features through the cracks in the wood, and beyond she could hear the crushing clamor of all those who had come to bear witness to her death. The noise was so incredibly loud that she could feel vibrations coursing through her body—though it was difficult to separate from the shaking.

“You hear that, Miss Sawyer?” Alexander came up behind her, hissing like a snake. “That is the sound of the people you have given up everything to save. So much precious blood wasted in the fight for
their
freedom, and how are you repaid? They have come to watch you die. But not to honor you—no. You may think to die a martyr’s death, that somehow you are sacrificing your life for all those people out there. But the truth is, Miss Sawyer: all you really are to them is…entertainment.”

Grace gritted her teeth, but did not respond. She had no more breath to waste on Napoleon Alexander, and did not wish to die fighting off hatred in her heart. Soon it would all be over. Her part in the grand narrative would end, and she would pass into a world where the MWR could never hurt her again.
Where my father is
, she reminded herself longingly.
And my mother.
She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being with them again, of getting to know her mother as she had never been able to on Earth. That might just give her the strength to get through this.

“I prayed for you tonight, you know,” Alexander mocked. “I challenged your God to show himself to me, to prove his power and deliver you from my hand. So let’s see what he decides.” He made a motion to the guards on either side of them, and the two wooden doors opened. The cool night breeze washed over her as she walked out onto the royal platform, arms held tightly by two strong soldiers.

Thousands upon thousands had come to watch, packed in so closely that no pavement was visible anywhere in the Square. Even the side streets leading out into the city were packed—people so far away they might not even see a flicker of the flames. Great Army soldiers stood in ranks to form an impenetrable wall around the Square’s center, shielding the execution stand and the royal platform from any who would attempt to interfere. She gazed briefly upon the pole set in the center of the crude wooden block, and fought a shudder.

That was when she saw him, standing at the center of an eight-man line just beneath her at the base of the royal platform. Eli wore a silken cape that flapped in the wind behind him, and he gazed up at her fearlessly. He gave her a barely noticeable nod, and she felt strength come alive in her once again.

She was made to pause respectfully before Napoleon Alexander’s throne as he sat down upon it. The look of glee on his face sickened her; she would rather have descended to the execution stand right then and get on with it, but the soldiers holding her gave little choice. She focused instead on the darkness behind the throne, doing her best to seem uninterested in the entire proceeding.
He’ll not see one ounce of fear from me.

“You are about to experience pain the likes of which you cannot possibly imagine,” Alexander said. “Whatever you believe your death will
mean
, it will not change that. I offer you this chance only once, Grace Sawyer: bow to me. Renounce Silent Thunder and their treasonous cause, and I will reward you with a swifter death than the one now before you.”