Storm Cloud

Spartan found himself restless. There was too much on his mind, and he found it was a pleasant distraction when Sanders found him in his quarters. The young man knocked on his door several hours after most everyone went to bed, a stack of maps and charts in his hands.

“Sir, I think I’ve gotten it.”

Spartan gestured to a desk against the wall. Sanders spread his stack on it as best he could, prioritizing several in particular.

“This is it. Based on everything you gave me, this is the most complete map of the tunnels I could get together.”

Spread across those several pages was a complicated mess of pathways. Spartan looked it over for several minutes. “I want to run a hypothetical your way, Sanders.”

“Sir.”

“We know there are two airships thanks to your team and the Berserkers. We don’t know much about yours, but we know the one in Älgenhul has pyrosuits. I suspect they may try to burn the mountainside in their attack. The massive fire will force us to stay inside, but there are too many exits from the tunnels to cover them all. Which exits here do you believe they’re likely to miss?”

Sanders thought carefully. “I’m not sure, sir. I think it might depend on how they handle the blaze.”

“Oh?”

“Here.” Sanders dug out maps of the mountains, including a topographical. On it, red dots plastered one side of the mountain. “These tunnels are everywhere. The same goes for the exits. I doubt they’ll be able to cover everything, it’s just a matter of seeing what they do cover.”

“Thank you, Sanders. Go get some sleep.”

Sanders bowed his head and left. Spartan gathered up the papers again and followed. The brass needed this intel, and it had to be sent through the ranks. He didn’t believe they had a leak or a mole anywhere here, but it was still something to consider. Even if it was a one percent chance, he had to take it into consideration. The intel had to be fragmented. That would also keep the enemy from getting their hands on everything if they catch an escaping soldier.

Damn it, we never discussed a rendezvous, he realized. That was another thing to consider. He flipped through the maps as he walked. It would be best to spread out, keep the enemy from catching everyone. Where to meet back, though? Two groups, one in the north-eastern mountains, the other in the south. No communication, the Butcher would likely have his men listening in. After that, head east. There was plenty of wilderness in that direction before getting to the major settlements of Alkenia’s Annexed Zone. The problem was getting to safety. After the Annexed Zone was Alkenian-occupied Staffel, and that wouldn’t be easy to get through. They’d have to go south, find some way around to safer shores. If they could just find safe ways back to Resturia, they could regroup with the other Alliance nations.

He desperately didn’t want to lose Drügeldorf, though. It was a prime location. He silently prayed Crusader’s appearance was a sign they would win this battle, but he was beginning to lose his optimism after their dinner discussion.

“Spartan, sir!”

He stopped walking. Two soldiers ran up to him, urgency dominating on their faces.

“I’m glad we ran into you, sir. It’s the lookouts. They see the enemy approaching.”

So it’s time. “Are you on your way to find the Commandant?”

“Yes sir!”

He handed the stack of papers to one. “Take this with you. Tell the Commandant the top pages show Sanders’s completed map, along with all known exits. We need to fragment the information and get it to the COs and all squad leaders.”

“Sir!” He ran down the hall.

Spartan pointed at the remaining man. “I want to see it for myself.”

#

“So the storm’s brewing.” Spartan looked out in the direction of Älgenhul, at the pyrosuits marching toward the mountain. Almost a hundred by his estimation. In the distance, he could see the town. A little away from the town was a flaming heap. He lowered his binoculars. “At least we know Viking took out one.” It was also mildly impressive so many survived. “Have they spotted the Warmonger out front yet?”

“Yes,” said one of the lookouts. “Further away than the company out there.”

“But they’ll all be on top of us soon.” Spartan now gazed at all the flammable foliage around him. There were no towers in the castle that had a good view back here, so the lookouts here were simply camped out on the mountain. “I want you boys to head south,” he ordered. “Now. Down to Jürgenstag. Then, I want you to make contact with Resturia. Tell them the Butcher sent Khardis for Drügeldorf. And keep moving.”

“Sir, I must protest,” said Lieutenant Calentine. He was in charge of the men camped there. “Drügeldorf needs everyone we can give her.”

“And the Alliance will need to know as soon as possible what’s happening. They may even be able to send us help in time. We’ll break our radio silence to let them know we’re okay.”

“Yes sir.” Calentine raised his finger and twirled it. “Pack it up, boys. We’re heading south.”

“Calentine.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Be careful. I’d be surprised if Jürgenstag was clear of these bastards.”

Spartan walked away as the men began packing up their gear. The men in the castle would be gearing up by now, getting into position. The storm clouds were in the sky, coming to rain Hell on them, and that blood red moon lit his way back to the tunnel. He read Revelation before, and that moon in the sky was a constant reminder of those tribulations and omens God promised to send. Again he felt the desire to run. Again he readied himself for the coming fray.