War's End

By David Perrey.


The man known as the Unspoken Name stirred uneasily in his chair. His eyes scanned the neatly typed report in front of him and he listened carefully to the additional words supplied by the serious-faced young man on the other side of his old oaken desk. As the head of the Order of the Wheel, he realized more than most the importance of alliances in the Secret War. However that knowledge did little to relieve the bad taste such an alliance left in the mouth, especially when it was with any faction of the Eaters of the Lotus. It was ironic, he reflected bitterly, that the alliance was working out so well. They had piled victory upon victory. The vile genetic monstrosities of the Architects had been all but swept away and though the Guiding Hand now had Netherworld allies, they were no immediate threat. In fact, the only blot on the landscape was his own contingency plan, another alliance naturally enough, which he had secretly hoped would prove more decisive. But though the Dragons had fought bravely alongside his own Pledged operatives, they were about to fall. The report he now read, written by a Lotus spy, revealed the Dragon's power was ripe for the taking. They had always referred to the group as Dragon, conveniently ignoring their ally's involvement, like they were amused by it. The final feng shui site would soon belong to the Ascended Lotus. The Unspoken Name smiled ruefully. He wondered if Gao Zhang, the leader of the repugnant magicians, had already planned his betrayal, already plotted how he would seize ultimate power for himself. He surely had, the Unspoken Name had several alternatives outlined. Such was the fragile nature of the alliance in the Secret War.

Jack Donaldson surveyed his handiwork. It was rather a slap- dash affair, that he and one of Zheng's students had put together as they waited in that damn house. Jack didn't like it. And with all that being cooped up in there, he had decided he needed some fresh air. So he and that kid, whatever he said his name was, had gone out into the overgrown garden behind the house, found some old bricks and some chicken wire and built themselves a barbecue. Smoke from the fire blew across Jack's face as the wind suddenly gusted, but he merely closed his eyes and drew in the smoky aroma. Damn, it was good. There was a shout from the house, calling him back, but he ignored it. If them damn Lotus creeps needed their asses kicked, they would have to wait for the privilege. With that defiant thought, he set about the task of fortifying his burger with the necessary fixtures. After all, he thought as he chewed, this was what it was all about, wasn't it? The chance to live as you chose to live.

Sullivan stood impassively and listened attentively to his superior's words. These were his orders. He and his elite team prided themselves on their devotion to the Order. When he had been required to aid the demonic hordes of the Lotus, he had done so without hesitation. Now that a new task had been set, he would carry it out with no less zeal. That some of the Ascended's own would fall under his team's arc of fire was of no concern to him. It was the ultimate success of the mission that was important.

A figure sat cross-legged beneath the branches of an ancient tree. As the wind disturbed its mighty branches, there was a groaning of the hews, not unlike a human sigh. The figure, a slim elegant Oriental man dressed in loose silk robes, meditated upon the noise. This was a place of power, a source of feng shui. The noises the tree made, so it was said, were the sighs of warriors fallen in battle without achieving their goals. Their restless spirits clustered around the place, strangely drawn to its energies which seemed to remember them and mourn their loss. Some thought it was a sad testament to their bravery in battle. To Kan Li, who contemplated the groaning limbs on the peaceful Spring day, it sounded like victory.

After a time, his eyes flashed open. He rose from his repose with practiced grace and smiled. It was a self-satisfied thin-lipped smile, anticipating the imminent and painful demise of the pitiful little Dragons hiding in their pitiful little house. And the smile also savored the chance of quashing the pathetic Ascended animals, like the lambs to the slaughter that they were. Indeed, Li had been most amused to learn that the Strike Force that the Order of the Sheep had supplied to aid the attack were acting on another's orders and would actually dare to try and subvert the operation. His smile curled up evilly as he relished the prospect of crushing that idea. They would be as a scythe through the corn of whatever token resistance was offered and sweep through to the power that lay behind the gateway that the house stood upon. That it would bring ultimate victory was a thrilling prospect. That it would require the death screams of his opponents was an added bonus.

Jack crossed the threshold of the house. During his approach, he had been disappointed by the lack of gunfire and he rolled his eyes. While this meant that the attack had not yet come, he knew what it did mean. It meant they wanted to "plan". He had firm opinions about these so-called plans.

"C'mon, Jack, we're waiting for you."

He entered the room and found it full of enthusiastic faces, ready to dispense their plans to each other. He saw the doctor sitting quietly by the fire, more absorbed in its depths than the bustle of the rest of the room. There would be no such sanctuary for Jack.

"So," he said resignedly, "what's the order of the day?"

A burly policeman, Petersen by name, spoke up. "Reports we have been able to get indicate that the Lotus forces are prepared and attack is imminent."

"Good."

"And we," Petersen continued, "are woefully unprepared. We need to sort out our defenses, plan our strategy. It is vital that we hold this position."

"Yeah, yeah. Look, I may be a simple man, but I like a simple plan." He pulled his pistol from his waistband. "This is the only plan I need."

"And I am sure it is a very worthy plan, but..."

"But nothing. It'll work out just fine."

"You seem," interjected another cop, "to be very sure of the outcome. Maybe you need reminding of why this place is so important, about the lines of power that cross over into the Netherworld here. Maybe you just aren't sensitive to their energies?"

"It gives me the creeps if that's what you mean." The cop started to reply but Jack quieted him. "Look, I know about the war and the feng shui that everyone's going nuts over. And what's more..."

The door opened and in ran that student of Zheng's, Kai-len.

"We got some extra help," he enthused breathlessly.

"From where?"

"From Kan Li's own little band! I just got word on the radio that the Ascended have reassigned their Strike Force. They're gonna fight with us!"

"See?" said Jack to Petersen. "All you need is a little faith."

Petersen seemed unconvinced, but at least they had a chance now. "I still think that if we..."

They Are Here

The message came suddenly, appearing directly in their minds without anyone hearing a word. Instantly, the room was a mass of activity as guns were checked and windows and doors guarded. No-one doubted they had heard the voice. It had warned them before.

"Damn, I hate this place," muttered Jack, taking up a position by the door.

With the frenetic preparations made, an eerie silence fell. Worried faces peered through the dirty windows, waiting for the attack to come.

It wasn't long to wait. A hail of flaming arrows peppered the building, crashes from upstairs indicating that some had broken through. These were seemingly a signal, for then a dozen men sprang forward and charged the front of the house, screaming a wordless battle cry.

"You guys, go and put out any fires upstairs," barked Jack, cocking his pistol. A couple of the martial arts students darted out of the room in response. "Petersen, your men hold the front, I'll check we have no backyard surprises." With that, Jack stomped off.

"Now he starts coming up with plans..." said Petersen, half to himself.

Sullivan allowed himself a satisfied smile. His men were in the position Kan Li had given them. And it was an ideal spot from which to launch an attack, providing good cover where needed and the target wouldn't even know they were there till it was too late. The oriental would be surprised about the target of that attack. His men moved stealthily and efficiently towards the rearguard. With the element of surprise, they hoped to target Kan Li himself. With his senses turned towards his prey, he barely noticed the quiet movement behind him. A slight glance was all he gave it, but that was all he would get to take. He saw a flash of motion and then felt a pair of strong hands around his neck, pinning him from behind.

"There is only one punishment for treachery." hissed a familiar voice. Sullivan gasped and struggled. Then there was a quick snap and Sullivan's body fell limply to the floor. "You men!" Kan Li said with quiet authority. "Your superior was a traitor to our cause. You will resume your mission under your original orders. I trust you will not disappoint me further." His eyes gleamed. None of the squad seemed inclined to argue. It was as if they would rather face the devil himself than look into those eyes again.

The house was beginning to smell of smoke as Jack reached the back door. He could hear gun-fire and the cries of the dying and the defiant. He wished he could help those kids upstairs, but first he had to check out back. He flung open the door with a flourish and pointed his gun. Then gasped. Coming up the garden path was a horrific sight. It was about twelve feet tall, a squat mass of writhing tentacles supported on three trunk like legs. A pair of blood-shot eyes glared out and a massive maw filled with rows of jagged teeth completed the ensemble. If there was one thing that Jack knew at this point, it was that they were in trouble.

"Here goes nothing!" he said and started firing. The creature regarded him balefully as his bullets pumped into its torso. It stretched out with a huge slimy tentacle, obviously irritated by the human insect, reaching for him. Jack dodged, then backed up into the corridor, still firing. It wrenched away the door and groped in towards the human. Jack shot the appendage once, which recoiled at the shock, then aimed again. Click.

"Oh sh..." was all he could manage and then the tentacle was upon him, dragging him out. He struggled in its grasp but its grip was like steel. It could squeeze the very life out of him with ease but it had other plans. The gaping maw of the beast came closer. He struggled more desperately but there seemed to be nothing he could do. He closed his eyes as he waited for the end.

It never came. There was a sudden loud report and then a cry from the creature. Its grip of iron slackened and Jack found himself falling. He winced as his body hit the concrete floor, as more shots rang out. The cries of the monstrosity grew more agonized and then they suddenly stopped after a particularly piercing screech and it tumbled to the ground. Jack raised his head weakly to see the Doctor clutching his pistol in two hands.

"I didn't even know you could shoot."

"Neither did I." he said with a smile, as he helped him up.

He was normally a pretty cool customer, but today was stretching Andrew Petersen's cool to the limits. The frontal assault, which had been formed of the vilest and lowliest vassals of the Lotus and some of the students of the Bear school, had been able to break across their lines. Casualties had been high however and the youngsters seemed to be holding their own against the bears. The vassals, armed with broad scimitars, were proving more troublesome and Petersen had dispatched several of his men to deal with them. All in all, they were coming through but several fires still burned unchecked in upstairs rooms, filling the house with smoke and making it hard to tell friend from foe. He slammed a fresh clip into his handgun and checked around himself. He had to see what he could do about the fires. The doors burst open and two burly men entered with a feral growl and sprang at Petersen. He loosed off a shot and dived sideways. The bullet had found its mark but the man was in such a berserker frenzy that he hardly slowed down. Petersen shot at him again, hitting his target in the shoulder and the man dropped the cudgel he was wielding and roared in pain. His partner, meanwhile, used the diversion to his advantage and swung down at Petersen's head. He barely got and arm in the way and it was his turn to feel pain. His left arm fell to his side, useless. With a grimace, Petersen dived forward and shot his attacker in the neck from close range. The other man ran forward swinging his fists wildly, but Petersen neatly sidestepped, sending his assailant toppling to the ground and an easy target for the coup de grace. They take no prisoners in the Secret War.

The fires were beginning to take hold of the house. It would not be long till it was taken. Or rather, swept aside so that the real prize would be his. Even now, Kan Li could see the Strike Force applying shaped charges to various parts of the house. And with the chaos ensuing within it, the occupants hardly knew what was going on. They soon will, he thought, producing his thin-lipped smile. They soon will.

Smoke was pouring out of the house. The Doc had tried to get Jack to keep out of things but there was no way he was going to do that right now. He had to get everyone out. Something told him that this attack was not over. They had to be able to defend the feng shui. At the back of his mind, a small voice was expressing the opinion that the day was lost, that it was suicide. Jack ignored it doggedly. If you started listening to that kind of talk, you really were as good as dead.

"Petersen!" he called. "Kai-len!" No reply. "Hell, anybody?"

Then he heard a spluttering and Kai-len stumbled down the stairs, almost doubled over in a coughing fit. Jack grabbed him.

"C'mon, you. Outside."

Petersen appeared, his face half-hidden behind a respirator. He looked tired, bloody and beaten and about ready to drop. He didn't say a word. One look was enough. The few remaining mean followed. Jack quickly scouted out the place. It still cut him to see these young kids as casualties, but he didn't allow himself much time for reflection. Having satisfied himself that there was no-one else alive in the house, he ran for the door. You won't have died in vain, he promised the fallen silently.

The explosion seemed to rock the world. The house already weakened by the fire, folded up like a pack of cards, spewing debris in all direction. As the smoke cleared, it became apparent that not quite all the insects had been crushed. A ragged band stood, blackened by smoke, seemingly awaiting their fate. Kan Li had no patience for these minor clean-up operations. The lines of powers converged right here, he could feel them. He gave an irritated wave of his hand, dismissing their threat. "Finish them," he told his lieutenant and turned to go. Then he stopped, an evil gleam appeared in his eye. He had been waiting for a chance to use his new talent. His eyes moved over the defiant group stood there. He recognized a face.

"Mister Donaldson." he called. The addressee did not respond or even react. He continued "I have a message for you from he Eaters of the Lotus."

Jack's eyes narrowed, suspicious. "Yeah?" he said doubtfully. "What is it?"

"Just this..." and Kan Li raised his hand, palm forward. Suddenly a ball of orange-yellow light appeared in his hand and streaked forward like a flaming arrow. Before Jack could even move, it struck him in the chest sending him flying backwards, landing in a crumpled scorched heap amongst the rubble. And he lay still.

Kan Li's expression was a mask of innocent delight. Then the cracks in that mask showed and he smiled arrogantly. "Now dispose of them."

The strike team did not wait to be told again. Rifles were quickly raised and shots rang out across the desolate landscape once again.

With his opponents distracted, Kan Li found it a simple matter to slip away from the chaos. He was following his instincts as he moved, feeling for the energies that this entire war was being fought over. It was close by, he could tell. Somewhere, somewhere...there! He fell upon a particular pile of bricks, oblivious to the world around him and set to the task of moving them out of his way.

Cover was pretty sparse. A couple of cops had already gone down and Kai-len was, to be frank, scared out of his wits. He crouched down, flinching with every gun shot that flew above his head. He clutched his pistol close to his chest, but it gave him little comfort. He risked a peek out. He could see Petersen, who was reloading his weapon with a grim, determined look in his eyes. Then he heard a ricochet, just above his head and he dived back and tried to wriggle further into the small pile of bricks that was between him and death.

Kan Li, meanwhile, had cleared away the rubble enough to reveal a trap door. He kicked away the last few bricks and heaved at the dusty iron ring. Slowly, so slowly, the heavy wooden door gave way and behind it was a dark musty-smelling hole, with a damp, slimy wooden ladder leading down into its depths. His excitement and anticipation at fever-pitch, he almost leapt down the hold and started his descent.

Kai-len perked up. He could hear something. A new noise slowly building from under the gun-fire symphony that was playing around him. He began to look around cautiously, listening hard. Petersen seemed to have heard it too, or something at least, as he had stopped shooting and was also looking around intently. A few minutes passed and the sounds of shooting slowly ceased. The noise got louder. Slowly it became recognizable.

"Motorbikes!" hissed Kai-len to the world. Trying to resolve the problem of keeping out of sight and straining to see the incoming vehicles, he squirmed around in his little part of the world. Was it help or still more Lotus? Maybe, he thought with a gulp, the Ascended had decided which side was going to win. Breathless, Kai-len waited and prayed.

The ladder reached down, deep into the earth. It was cold, desperately dark and deathly still. Kan Li climbed on regardless. He knew things lurked in the dark. But he also knew most of them served the Lotus. Slowly he began to realize an eerie phosphorescence was lifting the darkness. Kan Li paused in his descent and peered downwards. A silvery light was visible. This, he could tell, was it. The gateway into the Netherworld. He quickened his pace, any remaining caution thrown to the wind. His footing slipped on a rung and he barely caught himself but it didn't slow him down. Reaching the bottom, he ran over to the source of the eerie glow pervading this underground chamber. It was a circular pool some six feet across. Faint ripples crossed the surface though what disturbed it Kan Li could not say. The liquid in the pool was a strange mercury-like substance from which the ghostly light was diffusing. Kan Li knelt down at the edge and looked down into its depths. And saw...not his reflection, as perhaps he expected, but a whole new world. It was an odd sensation, it was as if he were a t ground level looking up. He could see a great wall and all across its width were rows upon rows of eyes. And they were all watching him. He felt a surge of euphoria tinged with a chill. But it was over, the Lotus had claimed the place for its own.

The roar of the bikes grew louder and soon the vehicles and their riders came into view. There was a lot of them, at least fifty bikes. But the question remained: who were they? An answer was soon forthcoming. Very few of the riders wore helmets, it was rather a rag-tag biker gang and that, along with the weapons they brandished betrayed their origins. Farmers. Lowly peasants that Quan Lo had trained to defend their lands.

Perhaps the Strike Team suspected whom these peasants would fight for. In any case, they were taking no chances. A burst of gunfire and a hail of bullets was the bikers' greeting. Several bikes went down but more kept coming, the riders and their passengers lowering their hoes and scythes in a parody of knights with their lances. It also gave the remainder of Petersen and his men a chance to fight back and they took it. The bikes, though many fell, rode on over the rough ground towards their targets who began to scatter in order to keep precious distance away from this new threat. There was a sickening crunch and an agonized cry as peasant and gun man met. Petersen and his men made short work of picking off the men fleeing the scene. In short, the battle was won. At least, it was on the surface.

The battle, the whole damn war was won, at least as far as Kan Li was concerned. He plunged into the pool, the quicksilver rushed past his vision, a diffusion of colors swirling round his mind like a kaleidoscope. But there was also a strange disorientating feeling of displacement, of twisting like turning and becoming one's own mirror image. He dived down deeper into the liquid, his disorientation growing and growing until at last, suddenly his head broke the surface. He spluttered and reached for the side, for solid ground. All around him, he was aware of the unnerving stare of a thousand eyes. He tried to ignore it as he pulled himself out of the liquid and got to his feet, still unsteady after his recent experience. Then, as composure restored itself, he raised his head to meet the gaze of the place, as its new master. Then a voice broke him out of his reverie.

"Ah, Mister Li, I've been expecting you."

Kan Li whirled round, startled and surprised. He got a glimpse of a short, nattily dressed black man grinning at his unease, just before receiving a sudden blow to the chin from a spinning hook kick. He grunted in pain, lost his balance for a moment and fell heavily.

"Sorry about the bad sportsmanship, old chap. But I found to my cost that you don't like to fight fair." went on the stranger chattily. "In fact, you seemed to favor downright dirty."

Kan Li glowered. He was stunned but not badly hurt. And he was quickly remembering. This was that preposterous Englishman, Nigel Carruthers. They had met a few weeks ago at the Red Lantern Tavern and Kan Li had left him for dead. Obviously not dead enough.

"I expect you are remembering our last encounter. Fond memories, eh?" the black man circled Kan Li warily as the oriental continued to glower at him. "Well, don't expect to pull any more of your tricks on me this time." And with that Carruthers moved in again, lightning-fast. Li had been watching and raised a block in defense, but Carruthers had anticipated his move and had feinted. Li felt a couple of ribs crack as he was thrown sideways by the force of the real attack. However, this time he fought back the pain and nimbly vaulted onto his feet.

"That's the spirit!" enthused Carruthers. "Wouldn't want this to be too easy, now, would we?"

Kan Li said nothing, merely sneering in reply. From their last fight, he remembered his opponent's liking of complex whirlwind manoeuvres and he was good at them too. But Kan Li sensed that he had learned a lesson, that it was not the difficulty of a technique that mattered, but the timing. Simple techniques with good timing would win every time. The two circled each other, watching and waiting for their chance. Neither seemed willing to risk a reckless first move. So the circling continued and the watching continued. Then it began. Kan Li moved in with a feinted roundhouse kick and followed it in with several rapid punches. Carruthers blocked capably and responded with a side kick but Kan Li dodged back quickly then delivered his specialty, a jumping spinning back kick. However, his earlier injuries meant it was not quite as fast as usual and Carruthers, in any case, had been waiting for it. He ducked down quickly underneath it and kicked out at the other supporting leg. Kan Li fell again, heavily this time. Carruthers leapt forward before he could recover and pinned him down.

"Well, it really has been splendid. We really must do this again some time," he said conversationally. "And you really must let me have the recipe for that Peking Duck you gave me at the Tavern. It was really knock-out."

Kan Li seethed with rage. He was pinned but he struggled vainly. He captor was grinning inanely which drove him into an even greater fury.

"You will die for your insolence!" he screamed.

"Yes, yes. Well, I knew my tongue would get me in trouble sooner or later. Statistical Likelihood, you might say."

Kan Li stopped his struggles. He knew he had to control his rage, focus it, if he was to escape. With a supreme effort, he regained his composure. Then he threw all his effort into a roll. Carruthers countered strongly, pushing him back but Kan Li then Kicked out in the same direction also. The pair of them flipped over, the captor became the captured. Kan Li aimed an elbow to his opponent's solar plexus, but Carruthers found it in himself to return a blow to Li's temple and rolled away from underneath the oriental and onto his feet.

Kan Li eyed his opponent and glanced up at the gargantuan wall of eyes rising up behind him.

"This isn't over Carruthers," he hissed. "I will be back for you." And with that, he flipped over backwards neatly into the silvery pool and was gone.

"That's the way of the thing," said Carruthers, rubbing his chest. "The Secret War is never _really_ over..."


Last modified: June 9, 1996;