Fourth Vector Ch. 31

"Then I'll do it," said Trevor. "If you really believe it'll help."

"I do, Trev. I really do."

"I'll do it when we make camp for the night then," said Trevor before he let out a small chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Us," said Trevor with a grin. "All of this. We're in charge of an army trying to free our homeland. How did it all come to this? How did it change so very quickly?"

Gavin actually let out a smile. "I ask myself that every morning when I wake up. And every evening before I go to sleep. Hard to believe that this is the life we live."

"It's the life we chose," said Trevor. "We need to always remember that. We could have let the Javans continue to oppress us, but we won't. Don't worry about the men. I'll speak with them. The ones that have no use to us will wash out soon enough. The ones that can be soldiers will rise to the top. They always do."

Gavin nodded and was about to say more when the smell hit Trevor. A pungent smell, one that stung his nose and made his eyes begin to water. It was also one he smelt before.

It was the smell of death.

Gavin noticed it immediately as well and shared the same gaze with Trevor. Both knew what it meant.

They started a headlong jog to the front of the lines where they were met by soldiers of the front who were coming back to find him.

"Another town is burning, sir," said the Tyrolean as he pointed in the direction of the smoke.

"What town is it?" asked Trevor.

"Blytherun," answered the soldier. "A smaller town but it got the same treatment as the others. There's no one alive left there."

"Any sign of the Javans?" asked Trevor.

"From what I can tell, their trail goes cold," said the soldier. "They must have joined up with the band that destroyed the town."

Trevor sighed, and then nodded toward the town. "Come on then, let's see if there's anything of value left in the town."

It turned out there wasn't much left of the town of Blytherun. A small community of only a hundred souls, just about every building was burning fiercely by the time the rest of the army arrived. What was so curious about the entire affair was that there was one spot that wasn't burning. A central town square that wasn't very large but was dominated instead by two artificial wooden poles. The town residents had used them as notice poles but now there was something that stood out to the Tyroleans as they moved through the town square.

"I think this was meant for you, sir," said one of the Tyroleans as he handed a note over to Trevor.

Trevor took it out of his hands and read it quickly.

TO THE TYROLEAN REBEL ARMY:

I WILL CONTINUE TO LAY WASTE TO TYROL UNLESS YOU LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS AND SURRENDER YOUR COMMANDER, TREVOR DOWNING, TO ME AT ONCE. AS LONG AS TREVOR DOWNING LIVES, I WON'T STOP KILLING EVERY TYROLEAN MAN, WOMAN, AND CHILD IN FRONT OF MY ARMY.

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED. HELL HAS BEEN UNLEASHED.

COLONEL ROLAND SMART

27TH MARINE REGIMENT

Trevor had to read it several times, not believing what was in front of him. His hands shook by the time he was done, and he handed it over to Gavin who also appeared wide-eyed by the time he finished.

"How?" he asked in a near whisper. "How do they know who you are?"

By this time, Nina had also caught up to them and had been shown the same message. Her brown eyes were chalked full of worry.

"I met him before the rebellion got kicked off in earnest," said Trevor, answering Gavin's question. "He came into my store. He knew I was a rebel but he couldn't pin anything on me. He kept trying to get me to slip up and admit something but I thought he was killed when we retook Amboy."

Nina pursed her lips. "Apparently not."

"It also looks like he's had a few promotions since then," said Trevor.

"What are we going to do about it, Trev?" asked Gavin. "Do we need to put a guard around you to keep you safe?"

Trevor shook his head. "No Tyrolean that's part of this outfit would turn me over to the Javans of all people, especially Javans who've been destroying their hometowns. But this brings a new factor into the war. They know who I am which means they probably know who a lot of you are as well. The war is going to get personal. Families are at stake."

"They were already at stake when they started attacking our towns," said Nina. "This changes nothing for me. It was always going to come to this in the end."

"Even still, the Javans know I'm with this army. I don't expect them to sit on this message or to not mean what they've written."

"It makes sense now," said Gavin. "Why we couldn't catch those Javans in front of us. They were bait. They were trying to lead us here."

Trevor nodded. "We need to be wary of any other odd behavior from them too. If they can lead us here with a little bait, they can also get creative enough to lead us into a trap. This Smart guy was crafty, and I wouldn't put it past him to come up with something devious."

Nina looked around. "Do you think this could be the trap, Trevor? Should we get out of this town?"

"It couldn't hurt to get moving again," he said. "For now, let's abandon our search for these Javan units and make back for the mountain fortification. If this is going to turn into a cat and mouse game, then I'd rather not be the mouse."

*****

There was no more exhilarating feeling than being on the run. The hint of danger around every corner or knowing that one wrong move could be your last was enough to pump the adrenaline in any man. Bancroft was surprised at how the feelings excited him.

It was the first time he'd felt alive in years.

Perhaps it was knowing that life held new meaning for him now that he was out of Blackgate. Even though his claims to life were still hanging by a thread, at least his freedom was secure for now. As long as he could stay away from the authorities searching for him, he had a fighting chance to reach the next step in his plan.

That meant moving at nighttime and keeping away from populated areas. It meant going without fire or shelter for fear of leaving a trail. It also meant that they had to take extra precautions as they neared Belfort, knowing that the emperor's power was strongest in his own capital city.

Bancroft suffered it all while knowing that vengeance against the emperor was still possible.

If he could only reach the marine barracks, he could flip the tables against the emperor.

Revenge was what kept him moving, although it was also what pushed Clark even further from him.

Clark had a reason to be sullen. Although he didn't have proof of it yet, he no doubt knew that his faith in Bancroft was about to be betrayed. Retiring to the Thessalian countryside? Bancroft almost laughed at the thought. He would do no such thing.

He would grab the throne of the country or he would die in the process.

Retirement was for old fools.

He did feel a slight hint of guilt at having pulled Clark into the same fate as him but it was a fleeting feeling. If he succeeded, Clark would become more powerful than ever before. The right-hand man to the new emperor, Clark's loyalty would be rewarded. Maybe then he would snap out of this petulant behavior.

The marine barracks was reached on the third evening after the escape from Blackgate. It was an imposing camp, one that was garrisoned by five regiments at one time and commanded by a general in charge. It was the main force that protected the city of Belfort, and Bancroft knew the barracks intimately well. He also knew that he'd put regiments here that he could rely on—those that swore the oath of loyalty directly to him instead of to the empire at large.

For that reason, he was about to put that oath of loyalty to the test. He was about to find out if these were men that could be trusted.

Entry into the barracks was the most difficult part. Neither of them could use their official documentation, since Bancroft didn't have his and Clark's was no doubt compromised by this time. That required a bit of sneakiness, which included stealing away inside a food truck as it crossed into the barracks. From there, both men made their way to the supply room and picked out fresh uniforms to not arouse any suspicion.

Once the uniforms were set, they picked out a single sidearm pistol and the real show began.

In a dramatic farce, Bancroft used Clark as the bait. He put the pistol to Clark's temple and began to scream for a meeting with the general of the barracks, shocking the inhabitants of the commanding officers wing inside the main building.

"I need to see General Zander now!" yelled Bancroft as his hand shook against Clark's head. "Or I blow this man's head off!"

General Brian Zander was the best possible man to see in this instance. For one, General Zander was handpicked by Bancroft to lead this facility for several key traits that he possessed. He was greedy, he was nepotistic, and he was one who liked the finer things in life. In all of those traits, Bancroft saw someone who could be manipulated to his purposes, and he'd gone to great lengths in the preceding months to see to it that Zander remained in command of the barracks.

More importantly to those, Zander was also one of the men who'd taken their oath to Bancroft personally. Bancroft was going to use all of these as means to twist Zander's loyalty in his direction.

"What is the meaning of this!" yelled Zander upon seeing Bancroft and Clark in their performance.

Zander was one of those men that let his position go to his head. A general should be in the same shape as his men but Zander had several years of pudge around his midsection that showed his lack of fitness. His head was completely bald and his cheeks seemed to be a permanent color of red, no doubt from some form of rosacea.

"Good evening, General Zander," yelled Bancroft as he grinned at the man. "I'd shake your hand but mine are a little occupied right now!"

Zander gave him a queer look. "Admiral Bancroft?"

Bancroft nodded. "In the flesh! You remember Admiral Clark as well, don't you?"

Zander put his hands out. "Put the gun down, Admiral. There's no need to act this way."

"Oh, I can't yet take a risk like that, General," answered Bancroft. "But you can help me get there, no doubt!"

"Help you? In what way? You're supposed to be in Blackgate!"

Bancroft smirked. "No longer. My stay was a little premature!"

"Premature? The emperor has men searching for you far and wide! You'll not get away with this. Just put the gun down, Admiral. We can talk about this."

"How about I talk and you listen?" said Bancroft. "The fate of Admiral Clark here is directly in your hands, General. I have a proposal for you, and I think you should listen to what I have to say."

"Proposal? What proposal?"

"One that's going to make you rich and powerful beyond your wildest dreams," said Bancroft. "More gold than you know what to do with. Sounds tempting, doesn't it, General?"

For a split second, Bancroft watched as Zander's eyes glazed over at the mention of gold. It was all the confirmation he needed that he picked the right man.

"What are you talking about?" asked Zander in a calmer voice.

"Just listen to what I have to offer you, General," started Bancroft. "I have two reasons why you should remember just whom your oath was spoken toward!"

"My oath?" Zander's eyes rolled up in thought for several seconds before they locked on Bancroft. "You!"

Bancroft grinned. "Me. You swore an oath of loyalty to me in order to be put in command of this barracks. I'm asking for your loyalty now."

"But you're a criminal," argued Zander. "This changes things!"

"It changes nothing. You still owe your allegiance to me regardless of my status. And I'm going to tell you why. You're not going to get rich working as a general of some random barracks in Java, Zander. You're going to die on a military pension while your family pinches pennies to afford a proper coffin. Not the kind of fate you've always envisioned, is it?"

Zander said nothing, which to Bancroft, was all the sign he needed that his words hit home.

"But if you remember the oath you took, I'll make you richer than your wildest dreams," continued Bancroft. "You want mansions, I'll give you ten of them! You want boats and fast cars? I have plenty to spare. You want fame and fortune as Java's preeminent general? I can provide that to you while keeping you afloat in more gold than you've ever seen in your life!"

Once again, Zander's eyes glazed over. He turned to the side and stared off into nothing, no doubt adding up the fortunes and items that he'd gladly like to have.

"All you need to do is join with me," pleaded Bancroft. "Tell your men they fight for me now, and I'll make you so rich that you'll never have to worry about anything again. Or you can continue to fight for the emperor and die a pauper! I'd know which future I'd choose if it were me!"

Zander's will seemed to be breaking. His fat face and red cheeks seemed to be weighing his options, no doubt wondering if gold was worth the price of his loyalty. In that matter, Bancroft had chosen well. There was no better officer in the entire military that was as vain or greedy as Brian Zander.

"What's your second reason?" yelled Zander with a start, his eyes flashing with excitement. "You said you had two reasons and I want to hear them both!"

Bancroft smirked. "The second reason that you should follow me is that I made you Zander. I know everything about you. I put you in this position. Don't you think I did my research into who you are? I know exactly where you grew up. I know your parents live outside of Belfort still, in a little country home with a red door and gray shutters. I know where your children go to school. I also know every detail about your wife—including her daily schedule. You wouldn't want any harm to come to them, would you Zander?"

Zander snapped back to reality at hearing his family so threatened. "Y-you can't! That's my family!"

"Oh, but I will," promised Bancroft. "I certainly will if you betray me now. And don't think you can end the threat by killing me. I'm a powerful man, Zander. If I die, my agents will complete the destruction of everything you hold dear. But it's a choice you don't have to contemplate right now. All you need to do is join me and recognize me as your leader! Your family will be safe and you'll be richer than your wildest dreams! Join me and save the ones that you love!"

The thrust was precise and deadly. In his words, Bancroft appealed to the two things that Zander valued the most—money and family. Through Bancroft, he could keep them both. It was only by forsaking him that he would lose everything. But would Brian Zander follow his brain or his heart?

What decision would he make?

Every tense second of deliberation felt like minutes as Bancroft held the gun to Clark's temple. Zander's eyes repeatedly went from one side to another, no doubt focusing on the choice at hand. For Bancroft, it was an easy decision, at least for someone like Zander.

He just prayed that today wouldn't be the day that Brian Zander suddenly developed a conscience.

"What's it going to be, General?" taunted Bancroft. "Time is running out."

Zander's eyes went wide in panic. In the space of a second, his will to resist was extinguished.

"I'll do it," he said quietly. "I'll fight for you."

"Swear it to me now," said Bancroft. "And you'll be rewarded with so much gold when the throne of Java is mine."

"I swear it," repeated Zander as he bowed his head and soon let his knees hit the floor. "I swear my loyalty and devotion to you, Admiral."

It was only then that Bancroft felt safe to release Clark. The deputy shuffled away like a disgruntled teenager, no doubt disappointed that Zander took the deal. The rabbit hole was getting deeper and there was no end in sight.

Bancroft walked over to Zander and put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Rise, General. Rise to your feet."

Zander pushed up to his feet and looked at Bancroft with weary eyes.

"Call out to your men to assemble at once," said Bancroft. "Remind them of their oath to me and to the state. Together, we'll tell them the true nature of the emperor and why Java needs us now more than ever."

Zander gulped heavily. "And tomorrow? What happens then?"

Bancroft grinned. "Then we march on the imperial palace."

*****

Lord Godric Katla of Selz was enjoying himself immensely.

He had every reason to be pleased with himself. In a matter of weeks, almost all of Apulia was at his feet. The invasion of the country had gone almost eerily to plan, surprising him by how quickly resistance was destroyed. The capture of the south island with its main city of Monticello proceeded with little opposition, as did the capture of the western island and its city, Pescia.

After consolidating his forces, Godric invaded the main island and set up a siege of the ancient capital city, Marmora. He butchered the forces defending the city, ensuring that only a handful of survivors were able to escape. Over the last week, he'd tracked those survivors along the island until finally he had them right in front of him.

Godric looked out over the faint glow of the city of Arezzo before him. The city was situated on a peninsula, connected to the mainland by only a narrow stretch of land. It was here that the Apulians had put up their last defense, giving their all to a network of fortifications in order to prevent a Swabian victory.

They would be unsuccessful. With victory in his grasp, he would be damned to let this last city elude him any longer.

That was why he'd given orders to assault the city in the morning, not giving his men any time to rest or to consolidate a siege of Arezzo. There would be no need. The Apulians were a broken people, and he hoped that by this time tomorrow evening, he'd be dining and fucking in the center of the city.

"My lord, there's a strange flag flying with the Apulians," noted his aide-de-camp as he scoped out their defenses.

"What kind of flag?" snapped Godric. "Something other than the green and yellow of Apulia?'

The aide nodded. "It almost looks like a Galician flag, my lord."

"Give me those." Godric ripped the binoculars out of his hands, determined to look for himself. He scanned the battlements in front of him until he saw the same flag. Despite the darkness of the night, it was a flag that was familiar to him. The blue field and the yellow sixteen-point star were unmistakable to any Swabian.

Godric lowered his binoculars and growled. "What the hell are they doing here? The emperor said the Galicians were staying out of this."

"Should I give orders to hold back on the assault, my lord?" asked the aide. "Do you think it could be a trap?"

Godric once again scanned the defenses in front of him. The piece of ground that connected the city with the mainland was rocky territory, perfect for any kind of defender. Without heavier weaponry, a smaller force would be able to hold it against one that was larger. However, with all the explosives available to them, he had no doubt that they could blast their way through and make it inside the city, where Apulian resistance would crumble like it did everywhere else.

"No, my orders stand," said Godric with a shake of the head. "Tell them to prepare the assault in the morning. I want to be the master of Apulia by nightfall."

*****

Bill put down the binoculars and handed them back to Jack. "That looks like a whole lot more than twenty thousand Swabians out there."

Jack took another look for himself. While his enemy was doing the same thing on his side of the line, Jack hoped to assess the strength of the Swabian forces on the plain before tomorrow, when there would be a likely battle. And he couldn't help but agree with Bill. Pure numbers alone seemed to dictate that the Swabian force swamped their own.