Chapter 15

  The iron belly of the helicopter was uncomfortable and noisy. The hard bench on which Armando was sitting was shaking, which soon made the don feel sick. The girls, on the other hand, were feeling noticeably better. Though their hands were shackled in light steel shackles, they made little attempt to play the downtrodden prisoners. The captain whispered with the sergeant, occasionally glancing at the alien guards on the other bench. Alex occasionally exchanged a few words with them in his native language, while Armando kept silent and stared out the window, fighting nausea. Behind the window the grey sea was passing by from below, and above - the same grey shroud of clouds. The alien flying machine seemed to glide between the two planes. To distract himself, the former bailiff mentally repeated the verbal portraits of the alien leaders.

  - There are five people in total in the expedition leadership, - Alex said before leaving. - But we are interested in two of them. Messire Fulcanelli is the most important leader. He has a black suitcase, called a laptop. The suitcase holds information recorded by... er... electrical signals, so to speak. Fulcanelli's briefcase contains all the codes to activate the atomic bombs. But the laptop itself is locked with a password that only its owner knows. No one in your world can crack it, so all you have to do is remove Fulcanelli and the suitcase turns into a pumpkin. Figuratively speaking.

  - And the other one? - Captain Valria moved her ears.

  - Messire Nicola. Responsible for delivering and placing the bombs in the field. He should now know just from memory the codes to several bombs in the warehouse. They were scheduled to be placed at new key points in the near future.

  - Not as important, but worth taking care of, - the elfess summarised.

  After the meeting, she caught Armando in the corridor and, making sure there were no extra ears around, said:

  - Don, my orders to you as company commander are to keep an eye on Dallan if possible. All right?

  - I'll try, - Armando nodded gravely. - I didn't expect her to be so... unbalanced.

  - Dallan's attachment to me is... sometimes excessive. - The pointy-eared girl wrinkled her nose. - I don't want to bore you with the details, but... I've spent years trying to instil a little selfishness in her, to teach her to love herself. But I didn't want to push her away from me. And, well, that's what happened. I'm not very good at healing the wounds of the soul. Sometimes love and care aren't enough. If things get bad, don't let her do anything stupid, Don. Dallan won't hesitate to die for me, and I don't want that. Do you understand?

  - I see, - De Gorazzo nodded again. And, deciding that he might not get another chance, he asked: - So the sergeant's real name is Anna?

  - No. - The captain sighed. She pressed her long ears to her temples. - Anna was the name of a girl from the Elvartian Guard who had been executed for breaking her oath. Anna was dead. Dallan is Dallan.

  - I don't understand anything now, - Don admitted.

  - It happens. - The elfess patted him on the shoulder, turned on her heels, and strode away without turning around.

  The next morning, the “Elena” dropped the four spies off on a piece of bald rock in the middle of the sea, where Alex had signalled a distress call. Just a couple of hours later, a helicopter arrived to pick them up - big and pudgy, unlike anything Armando had ever encountered before. Apparently, the aliens had learnt from the loss of the ship sent for the last group and had sent their own transport. Alex spoke briefly to the soldiers who had landed on the island, gestured that the companions could load into the belly of the vehicle. And now, they were hurtling through the air towards their goal with unimaginable speed.

  - Get ready. - The defector pushed the don with his elbow to his side. According to the "legend" they had become almost friends during their adventures together, so Alex held himself more freely than usual. - The pilot says the island is already visible.

  The coastline of Tattorubaku flashed below. The helicopter headed for the tall black mountain in the middle of the island, hovered over a steeply sloping platform. It descended smoothly onto it. Alex immediately slid the door sideways and jumped out. De Gorazzo had only to follow him. Deeply breathing in the cold air, faintly smelling of sea salt, the don immediately felt better. He was finally able to swallow the lump in his throat. As the guards took the girls out of the transport, Armando looked around. The round stone pad would have been big enough for four helicopters, but he could see only two - the one that had brought them, and another one, just as big. The site was surrounded by steep cliffs. There was a tunnel leading deep into the mountain, and some huge panels of what looked like glass glistened up the slope.

  - Solar panels, - Alex explained to Don. - They generate electricity from the sun's rays. It looks like the base is bigger than I thought. And it was built a long time ago.

  The former bailiff rubbed the bronze belt buckle. The top part of it, easily detachable, was the magic mark. The girls were not trusted with it because their clothes might be taken from them in captivity, and Alex was not trusted with it because no one knew how it would react to the proximity of a stranger. That left de Gorazzo. It was not a responsibility that pleased the Don, but on the other hand, it was not a bad thing to be a beacon for reinforcements.

  - Let's go. - Alex confidently headed towards the tunnel. Although he was also here for the first time, the defector obviously knew what to do. At the back of the corridor there was a grate guarded by a soldier, but the newcomers passed it without any problems and found themselves inside the alien base. To Armando's disappointment, the tunnel looked quite ordinary, except that the light was provided by whitish tubes under the ceiling. But they were not much different from magical lamps. The bare stone walls still bore the marks of pickaxe and trowel blows. At the branches leading off to the sides hung papers with inscriptions in a foreign language. That was all.

  - Is it... an ore mine? - Don suggested. Alex clarified something to the guards following him, and nodded:

  - Yes, that's right. The base is set up in an old iron mine. The locals gave it to us, we just expanded it. Three levels. This one's residential, below that's storage, above that's the generator room. That's where the machines make the electricity, you know.

  Their journey through the base ended at a metal door. Armando and the girls were crammed into a cramped room with two unmade bunks. Alex said, coughing into his fist:

  - You'll wait here while I report back. Then they'll call you in, too.

  The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

  - I'd like a stronger drink right now, - Armando admitted to his companions. The captain put her finger to her lips in response. Well, yes, it would be wise of the aliens to listen this room. Nevertheless, Sergeant Dallan said softly, taking a seat on the bunk:

  - Good thing we're not magicians. If the mine wasn't worked dry, there's iron ore on all sides. Right in the walls. An archmage would have a hard time, and a fifth-level mage would go blind in here.

  - Damn it! - Armando managed, by pure miracle, to say it out loud, with just his lips. He understood what the sergeant meant. Stone was no barrier to the flow of magic, but iron in any form... Master Carlon had warned of such things. The invisible light of the magical mark would penetrate the steel plate, but it would be weakened. Akira, almost helpless with magic, might not be able to see it at all. So the mark must be pulled out. And that requires freedom of movement...

  The iron door swung open, and the stranger guard gestured for them to come out. The mercenaries were led into another room, much larger and well-lit. Wooden and iron cabinets lined the walls. In the centre stood a massive table, behind which sat a thin, young man in a simple blue uniform. Armando recognised him as Fulcanelli, the leader of the expedition from the other world, by his eagle nose and the bald spots on his head. The man responsible for...a lot of things. "Okay," Armando reminded himself, "he's just a top-level executive. Types like Auguste are to blame for all the trouble. On both sides of the portal. And the ones left in the other world are out of reach. And this one... he's not even directly responsible for Octavia's death. Look him in the eye and don't clench your fists."

  - Have a seat. - Fulcanelli pointed with his palm to a row of chairs near the entrance, where one seat was already occupied by Alex. - Ladies too.

  When everyone was seated, he continued, turning to Armando:

  - So you're the mercenary who helped our operative complete the mission after losing his squad?

  - I suppose so... that's me. - The former bailiff didn't hide his excitement - it seemed appropriate now.

  - Great, we need fighters more than ever. Your services will be paid, and we will be happy to give you new contracts. And you, ladies... - The stranger turned his gaze to the girls. Captain Valria sat up straight, raised her chin, put her ears back and proudly declared:

  - I would like to discuss with you the terms of changing employers. You see, I have recently been looking for a new job.

  Alex didn't change his face, but Armando wouldn't vouch for himself. She did not explain to her companions how she intended to talk to the aliens, probably because she was going to improvise again.

  - Isn't it a little late for that, Captain? - Fulcanelli hummed, leaning back against the armrest of his chair. His tone was full of scepticism. - You've done us a lot of harm, and now you're trying to get away with it?

  - Just in time, - the girl smiled at him. - I always try to honour the contract, but my life is more valuable. The essence of mercenary work, you know, is to make money. Reputation is important, but a dead man doesn't need money. I've had the opportunity to see what you can do, sire. After all your failures, you're still a force to be reckoned with. And I can make you stronger.

  - In what way? - The alien leader raised his eyebrows.

  - I'll give you information that will keep me on the other side of the barricades. And then I'll help you put it to good use. You can just squeeze the information out of me in the torture chamber, but my active co-operation will be much more valuable. I believe that you and I are both pragmatic and not prone to petty grudges.

  - You are not a human being, - Fulcanelli corrected. - But let's say... I'm listening.

  - While you were on the continent, your informants must have told you that the Eastern Empire's intelligence chief had resigned shortly after your assassination attempt on the Duchess of Elvart, right? - The elven woman squinted her eyes, making her smile turn sly.

  - Yes, - the stranger nodded.

  - That's not true. - The captain leaned back in her chair with a satisfied look. - The old man is still going strong. He's heading up a new secret service dedicated entirely to countering you. To uncover and thwart your plans. The Emperor was very frightened, what can I say?

  - We have no record of anything like that, - Fulcanelli reluctantly admitted.

  - Naturally, the service is secret. But it's responsible for all your recent failures. I'm aware of that because I've been brought in to co-operate. I know many names, many methods, many plans. - Valria tried to splash her hands, forgetting the shackles, and their chain jingled. - Hire me and my friend, and you'll feel better about your life.

  What the captain was saying now completely contradicted everything Armando had heard before. Starting with the fact that the company worked not for the Empire, but for the Duchy of Elvart. But it sounded convincing and logical. So much so that the don had a pang of doubt - what if it was something they were not telling him? No, nonsense. The bright heads are too diverse to lie so coherently and for so long. But Fulcanelli hesitated. He said, without his former scepticism:

  - Well, I think you've convinced me to hold off on shooting you. We should discuss this again in a calmer atmosphere. For now, you'll be escorted to the holding cell.

  As the guards led the girls out, Fulcanelli turned to Alex, still in Daertian:

  - You and messire Luca have done well. The loss was not in vain.

  Armando remembered only a moment later that Luca was his false name and bowed his head gratefully.

  - What now, commander? - Alex asked.

  - Get some rest. Perhaps something will happen soon. - Fulcanelli chewed his lip. - Our allies from the Tagawa clan reported that their dragons had seen some strange ship at sea. Large, with a pad on its bow, no flag. Their lizards wouldn't go near it, so I sent an armed helicopter to reconnoitre. Maybe the island will be hit by Tagawa's enemies. Worst case scenario, we'd have to evacuate to their capital. We don't want to do that. There's no prepared base there. We don't intend to go to war, but anything is possible. You'll be assigned a room, Messire Luca will be on the fourth lower level. There are barracks for the local staff.

  - I'd rather Luca stayed with me, - Alex said quickly. - He's not from here, really. Not Erdosian, that is. He doesn't even know the language. And he's already been tested in battle.

  - All right, as you wish. - The head alien released them with a motion of his hand. - Go.

  The living room was quite far away from Fulcanelli's office and looked like the hold of a helicopter. By some miracle it contained bunk bunks, the kind Armando had only seen in a royal prison, a bedside table, and a wall lamp. Alex, locking the door with the latch and sitting down on the bunk, said:

  - You can talk freely in here. The Boss not paranoid enough to wire the operatives' rooms.

  - And for nothing, it seems, - de Gorazzo said, leaning his shoulder blades against the cold wall. - How are you? Are you well?

  - I just made sure I was doing the right thing, - the defector grinned wryly. - You should have seen our base on the continent... This one's a shithole. Look - the corridors are empty, the living block is empty. The expedition's down to three choppers and a dozen men. And they're trying to play independent politics. By the way!" he slapped himself on the thigh. - One of the languages of our world has a special word for what the captain did. Hutzpah. That's what it's called. You heard that, didn't you? She repeated what I said!

  - I'm not surprised at all, - Armando lied. - Valria is like that. But we have a problem.

  He briefly explained to Alex why the magical mark could fail them in the bowels of the old iron mine. He added:

  - Maybe I should have gone to the outer barracks after all. But they're underground, too, and a long way from the right people. The best thing to do would be to take her to the helipad. From there, the Republic dragons can infiltrate the base. And with their support, we can get to Fulcanelli.

  - I can't take the tag myself, I take it. - Alex rubbed his chin. - It'll run out of power... And they won't let you wander around the facility. We could go out together, but we'd have to come up with an excuse.

  Armando sat down on the bed next to the defector, and they were silent for several minutes. Before either of them had realised it, a heartbreaking mew was heard in the corridor. Armando jumped, but the stranger frowned:

  - Sound the alarm. It's early.

  The two men looked out into the corridor. Alex asked something to a soldier running past, who answered without stopping. The defector tugged de Gorazzo's sleeve:

  - Come on, there's a meeting in the break room.

  The corridor of the dwelling block led them into a cavernous, round-ceilinged room with a leather sofa, armchairs, and some devices of unclear purpose. They looked faintly like radios. Seven strangers huddled around one of the devices, and the infiltrators joined them. The snuff-box-like device suddenly spoke in a young woman's voice. The Don did not understand the words, but he guessed from the tone that the invisible girl was transmitting an important message and perhaps some orders. When the stranger's speech was cut off with a dry click, the aliens exchanged frowns and hurried away from the room. Alex lingered to explain to his companion:

  - The scout helicopter is missing. He said he saw some ships at sea, then he said he was attacked. And that was it.

  - If this is Iruthava's fleet, how did they bring it down so quickly? - De Gorazzo asked in a half-whisper. They were alone in the lounge, but someone could hear the conversation from the corridor.

  - I have no idea, - Alex wrinkled his chin. - The base is on alert. The entrances to the lower levels are sealed, and additional guards have been sent to the helipad. The operatives have been ordered to arm themselves. Good thing they didn't send you away, the local staff barracks are outside the perimeter. Let's go to the armoury if we're invited.

  The armoury was located one floor below the living quarters, on the same level as the punishment cell and storage rooms. A moustachioed stranger guard opened the iron cabinet and handed Alex the rifle he'd flown to the island with. The armoury guard added a couple of pistols and a massive gun, not like the other alien guns.

  - This is for you. - Alex slipped the shotgun into de Gorazzo's hands. - It's a pump-action shotgun. If you've shot from your firearms before, you can handle this one, too. It shoots buckshot. Thirty paces. Point the barrel at the target, pull the trigger. Then pull that thing under the barrel, like this. Seven rounds. When you run out, you put new ones through this window. That's it.

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  The stranger added a belt to the shotgun, which held a dozen or two spare shells. He kept the second pistol for himself. The men returned to the room with the sofa, hesitating to discuss further plans - the inhabitants of the base were milling around. This time there were only four operatives near the talking box. The defector spoke to him, and Armando sat down on the sofa, stroking the butt of his gun. He wished that Captain Valria were here with him right now. The elven woman's ability to make insanely brazen and bold plans on the fly would come in handy more than ever. De Gorazzo could only wait, hoping for the right moment to seize fate. Getting the magic marker out of the tunnels and preventing Fulcanelli from escaping if he started to flee the base was the first thing to do. However, at the same time it would not hurt to rescue the girls from the punishment cell, and at the end of it all - to stay alive.

  Half an hour later the box came to life again. The familiar female voice sounded confident and calm, but de Gorazzo picked up a tense note that had not been there before. The new message elicited excited cheers from the operatives. They seemed indignant and upset.

  - What happened? - dared to ask the former bailiff.

  - The base has surveillance devices in the Tagawa clan's port and on the coast, - Alex turned to him. The other outsiders ignored him, though they surely understood Daertian. - They have just detected garrison activity, as well as a large number of ships approaching the island. Tagawa's squadron is coming out of the bay to meet them.

  - Yeah, - de Gorazzo said. - The Republic fleet showed up just in time, I'll give you that.

  - A major attack on the island is expected, - the defector continued. - Command has ordered the base to be prepared for evacuation in case the garrison doesn't fight back. Not everyone is comfortable with that. - He nodded at the other aliens, who were already reaching for the exit. - But there's nothing more for you and me to do here.

  The spies followed the operatives, but immediately fell behind them. Alex turned down a side passage, knocked on a closed board door, and pushed it open. Armando looked over his companion's shoulder and saw a cramped room filled with shelves and metal boxes, entangled with multicoloured threads. One of the boxes stood on a table, and behind the table sat in a high chair a very pretty girl of about twenty-five. Her facial features resembled Erdosian, and her silky, raven-coloured hair fell in waves below her waist. She wore shiny black boots and a black suit, which would have looked very austere if it had not been for the narrow skirt that barely reached her knees.

  - Alex? - She said in surprise, turning round to see who had entered. The seat of the chair turned in place with her. The girl took the headband off her head, connected by a thread to the box on the table, and asked a question in her native language. De Gorazzo recognised the voice - it was this girl who advertised through the “snuff-box”.

  - I want you to meet a friend. - The defector answered her in Daertian. - This is Luka, he came with me from the continent. He saved my life.

  - It was a pleasure. - The girl stood up and with a smile extended her hand to de Gorazzo. The Don did not hesitate, and shook the narrow palm without delay. He noted to himself that the smile of the guest from the other world was lovely, her skin was soft, and her teeth were white.

  - This is Anya, our base's communications operator, - Alex introduced the girl. - Also my... friend. I hope you two will get along. Anya is interested in local languages and culture. She's... always sympathised with the locals more than me.

  "Aha," thought de Gorazzo, smiling back at the girl. The meaning of the last phrase was quite transparent. When, having said goodbye to Anya, the men returned to the corridor, de Gorazzo was quietly curious:

  - Isn't that where I saw the real motive behind your actions? Huh, Alex? But you didn't seem eager to get back to your old ways, did you?

  - That's right, I was thinking of myself first. - The stranger shrugged. - I'm a selfish bastard. But I've already made up my mind here - if there's a chance of getting a good man out....

  - We'll try, - de Gorazzo promised him. - Not to the detriment of the main task, of course.

  - I asked her to wait for me in the radio room if an evacuation was announced. - Alex tugged the rifle strap on his shoulder. - I didn't say anything else, don't worry.

  The familiar alarm bell howled a frantic cat as the infiltrators helped drag crates of weapons from the armoury to the middle tier.

  - Tagawa must be in a bad way, - Armando said. The alarm could mean the beginning of the Republic's landing on the island. The garrison had probably already lost the naval battle.

  The few aliens who had been carrying equipment with the saboteurs picked up a few crates and rushed headlong into the tunnel leading to the helipad. Armando was faced with a choice - either to follow their example, getting a convenient excuse to leave a magic mark on the pad, or....

  - Down! - de Gorazzo decided. He did not know what orders Fulcanelli had given about the prisoners, and he did not wish to check his guess. Together with Alex they raced down the stairs into the empty armoury, ran through the storage section, and found themselves in front of the holding cell. Just in time to see two guards unlocking the iron door of the cell. One of them was clutching an alien hand bomb in the palm of his hand. The guard opened the sash and tried to throw the bomb inside, but the door was suddenly struck with force from inside. The door swung open more forcefully, and someone's hands grabbed the guard by the neck and pulled him inside the cell. The door slammed shut, and there was an explosion inside.

  - Demons and Gahanna! - Forgetting his own vow not to mention evil, Armando drew his shotgun and pulled the trigger. The recoil struck the don in the shoulder, but the other guard fell backwards, only to flail his arms absurdly. De Gorazzo ran past him, jerked the doorknob towards him....

  The first guard was lying nose down on the floor, a pool of blood spreading rapidly beneath him. Dallan, unharmed, was helping Valria out from under the iron bed built into the wall. Unlike the sergeant, the elf seemed slightly stunned. However, when she saw Armando, she smiled broadly:

  - Almost in time, Don! A minute sooner and you could have actually saved us.

  - Did they uncuff you? - The former bailiff asked grumpily, stepping over the corpse of the guard. The stranger fell on his own bomb, and it exploded under his chest. It was definitely unnecessary to check his breathing or look for a live one.

  - No, of course not. - The captain spoke louder than she should have and blinked a lot, but at least she didn't stagger. - We're on our own. Did I practise their locks and lock picking for nothing before we sailed?

  - I didn't see you take a lock pick with you, - Alex grinned as he appeared on the doorstep. - I see you were left with shoes and belts, but you should have been searched anyway. Where did you hide it?

  - In a secluded place accessible only to resourceful women. - The elven woman wagged her finger at the defector.

  - In her hair, - explained Sergeant Dallan. - She hid a piece of wire in her hair.

  - In a luxuriously lush mane of a wonderful golden colour, - Valria corrected her companion. - Now, enough of this stalling. What about Fulcanelli?

  - He's packing his bags right now, getting ready to leave. - Alex took the gun off the dead guard's belt and handed it to Valria. She grimaced. Sergeant Dallan took the weapon instead and slipped it behind her belt. - As far as I know, he'll be the last to leave the base.

  They took an extra minute to look at the storage shelves. In addition to provisions, it held equipment for task force sorties, including clothing, armour, swords and daggers, which the outsiders considered to be more of a disguise. The girls armed themselves with good swords, and the reunited group hurried to the stairs. Already in the corridor of the middle tier Alex stopped and said:

  - Armando knows where Fulcanelli's office is. I need to go out. Not for long. There's something very important, personal.

  Velria glanced questioningly at Don de Gorazzo. He nodded, and the elf gave the defector a radiant smile:

  - I promised a little trust, didn't I? Go on.

  The three mercenaries ran to the door of the office. Armando kicked the door open and shot the soldier in front of him. The stranger fell on his back with a hole in the centre of his chest. Behind him was a second soldier who had already raised his short rifle. Armando violently pulled the lever under the barrel of the shotgun. He didn't have time to fire first, but Valria intervened. The elven woman slipped out from behind Don's back and the alien cried out in pain, clutching his left eye. His gun fired, but the bullets went upwards, ricocheting off the stone walls with a screech. Sergeant Dallan swept between Armando and Valria like a cannonball. The green-eyed girl slammed her shoulder into the soldier's chest, punched him in the jaw with her fist, knocked him to the ground, and pinned him to the floor with her sword. Apart from the two guards in the office was only the head of the expedition himself. When Armando kicked open the door, Messire Fulcanelli was tapping on the square keys embedded in the surface of his desk. The attack had taken the alien by surprise, but he was not confused. While the mercenaries fiddled with the guards, Fulcanelli drew a pistol from his desk drawer, jumped up from his chair... but did not have time to use the weapon.

  - Boom! - The shotgun in Armando's hands boomed. The lead blast shattered the skull of the alien leader into bloody shards.

  - Well…, - Valria said disappointedly, watching Fulcanelli's body fall to the floor. - I was expecting a half-hour battle, with lightning and explosions...

  - What did you throw at the guard, Captain? - Ignoring her remark, Armando stepped to the table and touched the black rectangular object lying on it. The expedition leader's laptop. Exactly as Alex had described it. A repository of codes for atomic bombs. A box with the end of the world inside.

  - Musket bullets, - the pointy-eared girl said with a smile. - I picked up a handful at the warehouse. Along with a bag of breadcrumbs.

  Armando grabbed some papers off the table, crumpled them up, and stuffed them in his jacket pockets, in case they were important. Lady Maria would read them later. He pointed the barrel of the gun at the laptop.

  - Wait a minute, - Valria stopped him. - He's not dangerous now, but not everyone knows that. Let's take it with us. Maybe it will be useful in the future. Not for us, but for the imperial diplomats to negotiate with Auguste. We can always smash it.

  The former royal bailiff sighed, nodding at the 'suitcase':

  - Sergeant, you take it. My hands are full. Take good care of it.

  Hurried footsteps were heard outside. Armando took aim at the doorway, but the alarm was false. Alex entered the office. Not alone. The defector led by the hand a black-haired girl, a communications operator. She looked around in confusion, and at the sight of the corpses she shrieked and backed away, clasping her mouth with her palm. Alex said a few words to her in his native language and turned to the mercenaries:

  - It's a friend. She's coming with us. I'll explain it to her myself. Armando knows.

  - Really? - The elfess glanced at the don.

  - Mm-hmm. - De Gorazzo jerked his shoulder. - She was in charge of communications here. She must know a lot. And she didn't kill anyone, I think.

  - Then we'll take her, of course, - agreed Valria. - Alex, where are the other big shots?

  The defector left his friend at the door, walked round the desk, looked at the keys embedded in it and the glass window beside them. He shook his head:

  - Fulcanelli was about to activate the base's self-destruct. Anya says there's a battle in the harbour, Fort Tagawa's on fire. No one's come back to the warehouse for a new batch of gear. I'm betting everyone's at the helipad or running for it.

  - They won't leave without their leader. - Valria's ears twitched excitedly. - Come on!

  - Take the gun, - the sergeant told her dryly.

  - I don't like shooting things that are more complicated than my digestive system, - the captain snorted. Dallan picked up the short rifle of the guard she'd killed and handed it to the defector:

  - Alex, make it fire one bullet at a time and give it to Valria. If you don't take it, you'll be combing your own hair for a month.

  - Oh, for fuck's sake! - The elfess tightened her lips, but accepted the weapon.

  As the saboteurs ran through the tunnels of the old mine, they didn't meet a soul. Even the post at the grate locking the exit from the base was abandoned. All the remnants of the expedition from the other world were actually gathered around two pot-bellied helicopters. Some were loading crates into the flying machine, others were peering into the distance, standing at the edge of the pad. Armando tore the amulet tag from its buckle and threw it forward. The enchanted roundel struck a rock and rolled along the ground towards the cars. De Gorazzo pressed his shoulder against a rock ledge and fired his shotgun, aiming for the windows of the nearest helicopter. He was supported by his comrades, though Alex seemed to be aiming not at the people, but over their heads. The aliens did not expect an attack from the base, and the mercenaries managed to cut down three or four of them before the rest scattered to cover. The surviving operatives returned fire, bullets clattering against stone. The spies had to hide behind a tunnel opening, but they had succeeded in disrupting the loading. Both sides engaged in a firefight, keeping each other's heads down. It lasted for a minute, then the wide blade above the roof of one of the helicopters began to rotate, emitting a growing rumble. A few seconds and it turned into a shimmering disc. Under the cover of the operatives, three unarmed strangers began to crawl towards the humming machine.

  - These are the three we need! - The elven woman shouted to Armando, while Alex was reloading the trophy gun for her. - We can't let them go!

  But the strangers' soldiers were not sparing their ammo - Armando could barely get out, and Valria and Alex were caught in a shower of lead. The guards must have correctly assessed their danger. From his nook, Don de Gorazzo watched the helicopter lift off the ground, hovering in the air, almost touching the pad with its wheels. As the operatives led the unarmed trio, covering them with their backs. As the thin cloud veil that covered the entire sky was pierced by the carcass of a falling dragon.

  - Creator almighty! - Armando exhaled.

  The dragon was not an island dragon - huge and brown like a bear. It tumbled, tumbling through the air, its body clothed like brightly coloured patches by small Erdos dragons, tearing fiercely with teeth and claws at the skin and wings of its giant counterpart. The tangle of dragons rushed past the helipad and disappeared from sight, probably crashing into the rocks down the slope. Behind the first lizard, two more emerged from the clouds, a grey one and a red one. These dived by themselves, their mighty paws outstretched. In a moment, they collapsed onto the platform. The grey dragon pushed the soaring helicopter with its lower legs to the side, avoiding the impact of the propeller. The machine tumbled off the pad, tipping over the other side. The red lizard simply landed on the second flying machine, flattening it with its armoured belly. With a swish of its tail, it knocked a couple of alien soldiers into the ground. Ten leather-clad warriors poured from the backs of the lizards, firing crossbows at the last surviving operatives, who were stunned and blinded by the dust. The unknown men deftly twisted the trio of unarmed strangers and dragged them towards the red dragon.

  - No! - Valria sprang from behind the stone jamb and fired several shots, standing to her full height. One stranger collapsed in the hands of his captors. Before she could do more, a grey dragon swooped in and literally blocked the tunnel exit with its side. The captain lowered her useless gun and launched into a tirade in Elvish, of which de Gorazzo understood three words. The captain rarely stooped to foul language, but this was undoubtedly an appropriate occasion.

  As if frightened by the elven curses, the grey dragon backed away, turning around. He pushed off the ground and soared upwards. Its red counterpart was already gone. Together with the dragons, their riders and the captured strangers disappeared . Only the corroded wreckage of the helicopter and the corpses of the aliens remained on the defeated site. The spies cautiously exited the tunnel, though it was obvious that the dragons had no intention of returning. A cold wind was blowing. From the sea came the sound of cannon volleys, the echo of distant shouts and the clang of steel. Smoke was rising from below - from where the helicopter had crashed. But here... here it was all over.

  - We've been outplayed, - Captain Valria said in a shrieking voice.

  - Fulcanelli is dead, we have the laptop with the codes. - Armando nodded at Dallan. The warrior who hadn't been in the firefight was leading the pale girl operator under her elbow. The black rectangle of a laptop dangled from a belt behind her back. - You shot the guy who knew the individual codes, didn't you? Nikola?

  - No. - The elf dropped the gun she'd taken from the trophy and smoothed her windswept hair. - Not him.

  - Either way, we've accomplished our main goal. - Armando slung his shotgun more carefully over his shoulder. It was a simple weapon that had helped him a lot today. - And the alien expedition no longer existed as an organised force.

  - I'm afraid the latter is not only to our advantage, - Valria shook her head.

  Swift shadows flashed over the heads of the spies. Two island dragons descended gracefully to the platform. Corporal Green jumped from the back of one. The lizard-man looked around quickly and, finding no threat, ran up to Valria and wrapped the elf in a hug.

  - Yeah, yeah, they didn't leave you anything, sorry," the captain laughed softly, hugging her subordinate back.

  The second dragon himself approached Armando. Small and frail even in her thick leather jacket, Akira leaned out of the saddle, told him:

  - Please forgive us, sir Armando. We encountered a pack of continental dragons in mid-air. They attacked us at first light. We killed one, but lost half of our own... We arrived as soon as we could.

  - Send someone for help and catch up with the dragons. - Valria dismissed the corporal, stepped forward. - They have important prisoners, they can't let them go.

  - I'm afraid we can't stop them even if we intercept them, - Akira said hesitantly. - But if it's important, we'll try. Good luck to you.

  Both dragons rose easily to the wing. Corporal Green stayed with his comrades on the platform. Valria walked with him to the edge and looked down. She said:

  - There's a terrace below us. I saw a couple of rope ladders in the warehouse. We drop them and climb down, and from there we'll make our way to the beach. Away from the harbour, if there's still a fight going on. We won't unlock the base doors, there's a lot of extra people down there... By the way. Alex, did you say that the late sire triggered the base destruction mechanism? Can you finish his work?

  - Yes, the password is in there, just turn the key and press the button. - The defector shifted his eyebrows. - But why? You don't want a whole trophy database?

  - We could use it, - the captain sighed heavily. - But the Republic won't need it at all. We'll take the charges for Maria's rifle and Armando's gun, and that's enough. Let the Erdos dig up the rest if they want to. Just don't tell our clan mates, okay? Let's say it's Fulcanelli's fault.

  She winked at the stranger. She added:

  - By the way, Alex, I'm promoting you from combat slave to full company member. Right here on the battlefield. If your girlfriend's interested, I can make her a corporal. We value men of science in the company.

  - She and I will discuss the offer, - the defector said uncertainly. - Thank you, Captain.

  Alex and Anya left the site together, under the watchful eye of Sergeant Dallan. Valria, left alone with Armando and Green, exhaled noisily. Rubbing her cheeks with her gloved palms, she smiled:

  - You know what I realised today, Don? A very important thing.

  - Which one?

  - If I'm ever going to wear a skirt, it'll be a skirt like the new girl. If you cut it at the side, you can even run...

  *       *        *

  - Two of three, - muttered master Carlon, sinking into a deep, cushioned chair. The wizard's head was covered with a clean cloth - he'd been slightly concussed in the sea battle, and Lady Maria had prescribed compresses for him.

  - What are you talking about? - Valria asked languidly, sprawled on the soft couch.

  - Our enemies had three leaders, - the maestro explained. - We killed the chief magician in the mountain fortress. The leader of the alien expedition was slapped by Armando. That left the leader of the local collaborators, Auguste. Their majesty. Political leader.

  - We have no time to get to him, - Armando sighed, picking at a dish of fried seaweed with his fork. The Erdos were not averse to meat, especially pork, but in honour of a great victory they served seafood delicacies. Don de Gorazzo suspected that there was a subtle mockery in this.

  There were only three of them in the half-dark living room, the others already asleep. Contrary to tradition, it wasn't a specially called meeting; it was just that the mage, the elf, and the former bailiff had stayed late, each for their own reasons. Valria, for example, was too lazy to get up from the couch.

  The returned mercenaries were lodged by their allies in a cosy mansion on the outskirts of the clan capital. Two floors, a few servants, and just enough guards to keep the guests from thinking they'd been arrested. The Irutava clan was dealing with the aftermath of a small war within the Republic, and guests from the continent would only get in the way. They were kept up to date with the news, which was good enough.

  - We may be short, - the mage muttered, touching the compress on his forehead. - But we know how to make friends, Don. You've proved it yourself. And we have Elvart at the very least, and maybe the Empire behind us. And we'll be back to the Coalition, we've got your lady of the heart to save. Sir Alex saved his own, how can we be any worse?

  - She might not need rescuing. - Valria waved her palm in front of her face. - She's doing fine without us in there.

  Armando grinned involuntarily. Yes, the captain was right. The latest news from the mainland was encouraging. The army of King Auguste the Strong, exhausted by nomadic raids and starved of supplies, had reached the borders of the Duchy of Velond. There it was met by the combined forces of the duchy and the rebel army of Marshal de Cotoci. The battle lasted until dark, after which the royal army retreated. The battlefield was left to the rebels, although Auguste was not completely defeated. In addition, Marshal de Cotoci began to openly form a sort of council of state. Donna Vittoria, former crown necromancer and now the marshal's advisor on magic, was officially included in it.

  - We should assume that Auguste now has at least two dozen atomic bombs with activation codes and a couple of handheld aliens. Now that's something to worry about. - Valria reluctantly sat up, brushing a golden strand that had fallen over her eyes away from her face. - Akira and her pack of dragons had missed out. And they were from kingdom, there was nothing to think about. Took off from that ship Fulcanelli told you about. The Empire would have sent a dragon barge, and imperial sea dragons are smaller than ordinary ones. Auguste's been tracking the aliens from the beginning. Maybe he knew about our plan, too. It's normal for a kingdom to have spies in the Republic. But Auguste has his ears in the clans, too.

  - Does this have any effect on our plans? - Master Carlon yawned.

  - Not much. - The elf scratched her long ear, making it floppy. - We'll be on the islands a little longer, though. Armando will convince our Irutava friends to catch a few of Auguste's spies in their ranks, and I'll have a chat with them... before we sail for Elvart. Well, we've learnt more than our fair share of bad things from this mess. Alex, for instance, proved his loyalty. And he brought a new man into the fold. And I made a big decision that's gonna change my whole life.

  - Which one? - Carlon asked after a long pause.

  - I've decided to order myself a skirt, - announced a terribly pleased Valria.

  The black-bearded mage coughed. Armando turned away to hide a silly smile. Looks like he had decided something for himself, too. Tough times were coming either way. And he was glad to go through them in such company. Couldn't have wished for better...