Cocking her head, Syn studied Elina. “Exactly what is this plan? From what little we’ve heard, the media doesn’t talk about us much anymore.”
“That’s because there’s just not enough to sensationalize anymore,” Elina said with a shrug. “But if we give them a scandal . . .”
“What kind of scandal?” Kalen narrowed his eyes. “I’d just as soon not have everything about this camp spread all over the evening reports, Elina. If that’s what it takes to get a supply drop, I’d tolerate it, but we need to think long range. Something more reliable, something steady.”
“That’s my plan exactly.” Leaning forward, Elina braced her elbows on her knees. “I’ve got a friend in the military’s para-science division. I studied magical theory with her when we were both in university. She’s fairly high ranking, and she has contacts like you wouldn’t believe. I suspect people on the outside are still having trouble reliably accessing the magic and it’s got to be causing all sorts of problems for them. The demonic issue may be localized, but the energy problems will not be. If it’s affecting us, it’s affecting all. That’s because the earth’s energy is
all
connected. What problems we faced here a year ago, they faced. Five years ago? They faced. Which means . . . those in the outside world are still struggling to adapt to the disrupted magical flow, and chances are there have been casualties—witches injured, or killed, when the magic spiraled out of control, and innocent bystanders.”
She flexed her hands wide, and Syn shivered as a ripple of magic flickered between Elina’s hands. The burst of power was a warm caress.
“We’ve got one hell of a weapon here, Kalen . . . We know how to tap into the energy again. We can show them how. They may well figure it out on their own soon, but I know Geina—she’s not going to want
soon
, especially not if I have the way
now
. I want to contact her and one of her superiors—let them know we’ve figured out how to tap into the energy and we’ll share the knowledge, providing the military signs a contract for regular monthly supply airdrops.”
“Like some of the higher-ups are actually going to honor a contract for any longer than they want to,” Bron said, shaking his head.
“That’s where the media comes in.” Elina smiled tightly. “I’m going to send encrypted files of the discussion and the contract to several media contacts. And after the contract is signed, I’ll inform Geina and her superior. Now, I trust Geina to honor any deal she’s involved in, but I don’t want her in a bad place. If she doesn’t know, she’s in the clear. Once the contract is signed, if even one supply drop is missed, I’ll contact them to go to the public with the information. Let the world know we’re still here, and while we’re fighting to get rid of the monsters, the military is ignoring us . . . starving us, while we fight a fight that belongs to them every bit as much as it belongs to us.” She brushed the corner of her eye and said, “I could even manage a few heartfelt tears as I make my impassioned plea to the masses.”
“Cagey, crafty woman,” Kalen muttered, shaking his head. He looked at the others and cocked a brow. “Thoughts, my friends?”
“Do it,” Syn said. She jerked a shoulder in a shrug and said, “I’m tired of feeling like we’re flying solo here. They want to ignore the ugly truth here; let’s force them to look at it.”
Lee nodded.
Bron drummed his fingers on his thigh and said, “At this point, I don’t think it can hurt. And if anybody can work those bastards, it’s going to be Elina.” He glanced at her. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Elina smiled. “Because of my husband, my grandfather, I know how the military is playing this, and I think I know how they will react. Any unwise decisions on their part will reflect badly on them and the elected officials in the government who have control over the military factions. They won’t want the world’s population aware of the fact that they’ve abandoned us.”
The smile on her face grew sad and she sighed. “These people know who I am, too. I may not have been the focus of the media the way you were, Kalen, but the world knows who my family is. They know Eira; they know of my husband, my father, my grandfather. If I go public, the world is going to listen. Trust me.”
Syn had the pleasure of watching as Elina delivered her ultimatum to the head general of the AMC, Aishen Militia Corps. He was flanked by his counterparts from the Aishen Navy and the Aishen Air Corps, as well as several high-ranking government officials. Elina’s contact from the para-science division was visible on the monitor as well.
Elina had planned well, and it took only three minutes of the “plea for help” vid she’d created before the general agreed to routinely drop shipments of food and the various supplies they needed for weapons, clothing, repairs.
He also requested that she destroy the vid, but Elina had just smiled. “Now, why would I do that? Not that you’d trust my word anyway. Rest assured, General. It’s in safe hands, and as long as you uphold your end of the bargain, my contacts won’t share that footage with a soul.”
“What guarantee do we have of that?”
Elina smirked. “My word. Which is a hell of a lot more reliable than
your
word, General. I remember when you were assigned to your position—you promised to defend all the citizens of Aishen, with fervency, with passion and with respect. But you’ve left us here to rot. I’m quite certain we’re still citizens . . . unless this area defected without my knowledge.”
A few more comments were exchanged, Elina with a cool smile and the general’s face hard as stone. A date, time and location were established and then Elina ended the vid-conference in the middle of a comment from the general. She flipped the monitor off and murmured, “Oops.”
Kalen snorted. “I’m sure you’ve endeared yourself to that man, Elina.”
“Oh, he hated my guts before he heard my demand.” She shrugged and added, “My grandfather had more than a few run-ins with the general, back when they were both serving in the infantry. The general always had his sights set high and had no problems trampling on the backs of others or wading through their blood.”
Kalen grunted in acknowledgment and moved to stand by Syn. She was studying the map, particularly the coordinates Elina had given the general for the drop. Slanting a look at him, she murmured, “I don’t particularly like taking this route, you know. I wish there was another option.”
“As do I.” He ran a hand down his stubbled jaw. “But I like the thought of my men starving even less. And the idea of us running out of powercells and the materials needed to repair and build new weapons.”
“Damn.” Syn glanced over her shoulder at Elina and said, “Next time you speak with them, suggest that we could use some ‘new’ weaponry here.
New
weapons—not just the raw materials we need to make our own.”
“Getting greedy.”
“No. It’s a matter of being practical. Why waste so many men on repair detail, trying to patch together pulsars that were outdated five years ago? They’ll have newer weapons, better weapons.”
Elina grimaced. “He agreed to all the ‘extras’ you already added in. Let’s just be thankful for that.”
“Oh, I am.” She smiled and stared at the map, but she was no longer studying the coordinates for the drop shipment. She was studying the lands west of the camp. She had a plan, one that she had been thinking through for quite some time. But she’d never given it serious thought—they lacked the materials needed and had no way of getting them without outside help.
Or rather, materials she didn’t have
yet
.
In another seventy-two hours, however, the rules were about to change.
“Will it work?” Syn asked as Gunner continued to study the info on the data pad.
“Hmmm.” He made a noncommittal grunt under his breath and pushed back from his desk, leaving the small office in front of the weaponry storehouse. He started making his way through the materials that had been dropped into the camp the day before.
It wasn’t enough—nowhere near enough, but it was a hell of a lot more than they’d had available to them twenty-four hours earlier. Off in the workroom, some of the weapon-tech men were making progress on the needed repairs that had been piling up over the past few months.
She’d seen people grinning at one another as she made her way to the weaponry. Elina’s little plan had managed to restore some of the hope that had been dying bit by bit.
Tapping her foot, Syn watched as Gunner stopped by one crate and lifted the lid, peering inside with a thoughtful expression. “Hmmm,” he muttered again, tugging on his lower lip.
“Gunner.”
He glanced up at her, a distracted look on his face.
Narrowing her eyes, she said mildly, “If you don’t give me some sort of answer, I’m going to scream. Just so you know.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” He smiled at her and pushed his spectacles back onto his head. Age was starting to show on the older man and he could no longer see close objects with clarity unless he wore the corrective lenses. His faded blue eyes danced with humor as he slid a look toward the workroom. “Your man is in there. If he hears you scream, he’s going to come running. You’re too much the soldier to distract him unless it’s really necessary.”
Syn rolled her eyes. “Damn it, Gunner, would you stop being so damned obtuse and just give me an answer?”
“Am I being obtuse?” he mused, cocking his head. He pushed the lid back onto the crate and made his way back to the entrance, stopping just a few feet away. He held her data pad up to her and said, “It’s an idea with merit, there’s no doubt about that. But it’s risky. I don’t completely understand the technology they used to rig the barrier line and from what I can see, these devices you want to build work on a fairly similar platform.”
He sighed and ran a hand through thick, grizzled gray hair. “I’m self-taught on damn near every weapon we currently use, Captain. You know that. Now, my second, Egan, he attended the Air Corps Academy, and he knows his way around all that tech—far better than I do. Perhaps you should talk to him.”
“I plan to.” She took her data pad, studying the notes and sketches she’d made. Then she looked up at him. “But I wanted your input as well. This is . . . well, it’s a gamble. There’s no way to know how many we could take out until we do it. And it’s dangerous.”
“Yes. But these days, it’s dangerous simply to leave the base camp.” He flicked a finger toward the data pad and said, “If the Raviners are trying to unite the rest of the demons, trying to get them to work against us, we have so many problems, I don’t even know where to start. This could be that start—one that cut down on their numbers substantially. And for those of them capable of higher thought, it will serve as a warning. They think they have us cowed. That’s not good for us. You know that.”
Kalen eyed the huge whiteboard across the room and then closed his eyes. With his head leaning back and his eyes closed, he looked like he was in the mood for a nap. Syn had to shove her hands into her pockets to keep from fidgeting.