Chapter #92The Raid, Part 1 by: imaj   “I said, I want to go,” you repeat, this time more loudly. They all stop talking and look at you. “I want to help rescue the other girls,” you explain.
Kali is the first to speak. “I absolutely forbid it.”
Rick considers this for a moment. “Squirt might have a point,” he says, rubbing his stubble.
“Explain,” says Fyodor levelly.
“Well Kali, no offence here, she ain’t much of a fighter,” explains Rick. “And what gifts she does have that are combat related are more what you’d call artillery. If this thing goes south, it’s going to be close quarters hack and slash in the tunnels. Would’ve liked your old apprentice along for the ride, where is he anyway?”
“Busy,” growls Fyodor. “And what do you mean ‘goes south’.”
“I like to have a backup plan,” shrugs Rick. “And a fallback plan in case the backup plan goes to hell.”
“What happens when the fallback plan doesn’t work,” you mutter, but Rick doesn’t seem to hear you
“I doubt Will is better equipped for hand to hand combat either,” says Kali coolly.
“No he ain’t,” agrees Rick. “But Miko is. Squirt goes in with the samurai’s imago, he’s going to kick ass, even without Malacandra”
“Hah,” exclaims Fyodor, slamming one meaty hand down on the table. “I like it.”
“I’m not sure he’s ready,” complains Kali.
“Kali, it’s a milk run,” sighs Rick. “These jokers are barely worthy of the name cultist. Only guy we got to worry about is the warlock leading them. The only reason we’re going in heavy handed is because Fyodor likes busting heads together.”
“It’s true my friend,” laughs Fyodor. “And I am disgustingly rusty too!”
“Squirt’s going to have to go into the field eventually,” says Rick. “You know he’s going to be apprenticing with me sooner rather than later anyway.”
Kali can only sigh. Even though you haven’t known Fyodor for long, the look in his eye is unmistakable. He’s set on his course, nothing can change his mind and his course is taking you along for the ride. “Very well,” she says with as much dignity as she can muster.
“Then it’s decided,” says Fyodor magnanimously. “Ah but now we have to rework the plan to include Will’s abilities instead of Kali’s, oh well,” he continues with a mock disappointment. “Lucky for me I like making plans, huh!”
This time, you are included in the conversation.
*****
You return to the cellars just after eleven. The staff have gone home and the building is dark. This had proven no problem to Rick, who had unwound a velvet roll from within the pockets of his sports jacket and picked the old fashioned lock to get inside with surprising dexterity. The more modern security methods hadn’t fared much better, with Fyodor doing something that caused the motion sensors and burglar alarm to die in silence.
You peek over some dusty crates to look at the entrance to he tunnel complex, your cloak in hand in case you need it. There’s no one there, as expected. The cult will all be deep inside preparing for their ritual. You sink back down, leaning against the crate.
“Entrance is clear,” you whisper to Rick, who is sitting on your left.
He looks round the side of the crates himself. “You mean ‘there’s no one there’,” Rick says quietly. “There’s a difference squirt.”
“This is true,” whispers Fyodor, although for him whispering is akin to anyone else’s normal talking voice. Stealth doesn’t come easily to him either and he crouches awkwardly as he attempts to take a look at the entrance. “Hmm, weak indifference guardian on the door,” he muses. “Sloppy.”
“That means people can’t even see the door,” explains Rick, before you even ask the question. “Unless they’re really looking for it, or they got a touch of power.”
“Hah,” barks Fyodor. “And a watcher too.”
“Can you disable it Fyodor,” asks Rick. Fyodor looks hurt for a brief moment before starting to get up. Rick pulls him back down again. “Scratch that, I got a better idea: Blind it long enough for us to get past.”
“Oh I get it,” grins Fyodor. “The watcher going blind gives the game away just as bad as being spotted? It’s a little trickier,” he says, getting to his feet. “but not impossible.” You wait patiently as Fyodor creeps forward, unable to see exactly what he is doing. After a minute he speaks again. “There, done. We have a minute.
Rick darts out from behind the crates and you follow. You all quickly advance to the door to the tunnels. It proves to be locked, but it yields quickly to Rick’s lockpicks. The three of you pass through the door with seconds to spare.
“Hmm,” says Rick, almost to himself. “I’d have put a watcher on both sides of the door.”
“Jam it,” orders Fyodor indicating the door you’ve just passed through. “No escape routes,” he explains and Rick goes to work with the picks again.
This is where you start to play an important part in Fyodor’s plan. Although George’s memories told you that all of the cultists should be in the ritual chamber deep in the tunnels, Rick’s ingrained sense of paranoia insists that you should assume no such thing. You move ahead of Rick and Fyodor, keeping your cloak ready as you work your way down the gently curving and sloping tunnel. Waving to Rick and Fyodor to follow, you can’t help but take a little sliver of pleasure: They’re doing what you tell them to and not the other way round for the first time.
The antechamber before the maze is empty. Fyodor and Rick start searching through the cupboards and wardrobes there while you keep a watch on the exit leading onwards. Fyodor finds what he’s looking for first: A spare brown robe, like the one the cultists wear. Another one of Rick’s additions to the plan. You doubt it would fool them for very long, but the few seconds of confusion it will buy Fyodor and Rick might prove invaluable.
“How do we look,” grins Fyodor. The robe does not fit him well, stretching tightly across his huge chest. Rick looks equally ridiculous, having somehow picked out the most moth-eaten and worn spare robe available.
“Um… ok,” you reply, not wanting to tell the truth. “Actually, it’s not great.”
“Didn’t think it would be,” says Rick evenly. “But the details count squirt, so make sure they count for you. That’s rule number ten.”
Fyodor pulls the map you drew him out of a pocket. “No time to waste my friends, let’s keep going.”
You backtrack your way through the maze. Fyodor has a little difficulty with the tighter passages, but you encounter no obstacles on your way through. It doesn’t take long to reach the ritual chamber.
You poke your head round the corner and glance inside the chamber. You didn’t come here during your escape so you only have the memories from George’s imago to refer to. Easily the largest open space in the tunnels, it has a large arched roof and, inexplicably, stained glass windows. The scenes depicted writhe under your eyes and bring on a headache.
The entire cult is there. Eight men stand in a rough semi circle, their faces obscured by the hoods of their brown robes. They chant in low voices, you don’t recognise the language. In the centre, on a raised platform is their leader, the warlock Rob. He paces between three poles, each with a young woman tied to it. He stops to daub symbols on their faces, sticking his finger in a bowl he carries before drawing on each woman in turn. The first, a leggy blonde in her mid twenties with a sharp face, moans faintly as he does so.
You pull back from the edge and turn to face Rick and Fyodor. “You ready,” asks Fyodor, finally brining the volume of his voice to something you would recognise as a whisper. You nod. “Go then, we’ll come in on the signal or as soon as we see you in trouble,” instructs Fyodor. Well that fills you with confidence…
It’s a difficult task, for you have to wrap your cloak round all twelve people in the room – nine cultists and the three women. It is surprisingly easy to tie up the sense of each individual in turn, drawing attention to the scenery rather than yourself. It’s only when you try to move that you realise the difficulty you are in. Though all twelve can not perceive you, each time you take a step your cloak's hold on one or more of them rustles. The strands are everywhere, woven round each other and each time one gets tugged another three are tugged with it.
You move with the utmost caution, taking the tiniest of steps. Between each step you stop to repair the damage to your cloak the movement caused. You can sense Rick and Fyodor’s agonised gazes on your back, for it takes you seconds between each step. Although you only have to travel several metres to get to the first woman, it takes you as many minutes to do so.
You reach the first, standing just behind her and letting your cloak slip from around her. “Don’t say anything,” you whisper. She makes a strangled sound in her throat but complies. “I’m cutting you loose,” you add, using a pocket blade you brought for just such a purpose. “Don’t run till you see the signal, you’ll know it when you see it.”
You repeat the process with the other two, leaving only the final and most dangerous step of the plan to complete. By Fyodor’s estimation, the only real danger in the cult is the leader. You are to knock him out with a sigil before the fight even starts.
You creep closer, readying the sigil. Just as you get close enough, Rob abruptly changes direction and you instinctively take a large step to get closer again.
For a moment, the strained threads of your cloak hold in position, blinding the cultists to your presence. Then it snaps and melts away. The chanting stops, the room goes silent.
A lone voice pipes up in the line of cultists. “Hey that’s that Oriental girl I saw this morning.” You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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