“The Order of the Star’s current plan is to attack in a pincer,” I said. As I spoke, I channelled through the focus: translucent blue arrows appeared on the map, sweeping down from east and west towards the mansion’s two wings. “They’ll gate as close as possible to the edge of the ward radius, then move in. Constructs will be on point, with security forces in the second wave and guarding the flanks. Primary objectives are here and here”—green dots appeared in the wings—“with secondary objectives spread through the ground and first floors.” Lighter green dots appeared as I spoke, covering the building. “The goal is to take the above-ground sections of the building in the initial surprise attack.”
“Excellent!” Landis said. Tall and lanky, he was half leaning on one of the tables. “Wonderful thing, optimism. Might I enquire what the plan is should they fail to do so?”
I smiled slightly. “Director Nimbus didn’t feel it necessary to go into the details.”
There were various noises of displeasure from around the room. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” one of the other Keepers said, “but I thought you were on the Junior Council.”
“Correct.”
“Doesn’t that mean you outrank Nimbus?”
“Also correct,” I said. “However, he demanded field command for this operation, which the Council granted. Director Nimbus also made the decision for the primary attack force to be drawn from the Order of the Star, holding Shield Keepers in reserve. Which is the reason we’re here.”
“Director Nimbus can’t find his own arse with both hands and a map,” a third Keeper suggested.
“Didn’t quite hear that,” I said, and looked around the circle. “Opinions?”
The Keeper who’d pointed out my rank crouched down, studying the landscape thoughtfully. The light projection fuzzed around his legs. His name was Tobias, and he was a dark-haired man in his forties who, for reasons best known to himself, wore a large Stetson hat. “Don’t like it,” he said.
“Reasons?” I asked.
Tobias pointed down at the landscape. “Too far from the entry point to the target, not enough cover. Easy cross fire.”
“With surprise—” another Keeper said.
“One never wants to depend entirely on surprise,” Landis said. “Drakh has unfortunately proven quite skilled at anticipating attacks in the past. Which regretfully leads me back to my earlier question as to the presence or otherwise of our backup plan. I do hope that we’re not it?”
“Unfortunately, I rather suspect we are.”
Tobias nodded as if he’d been expecting it. “Of course,” another Keeper said. “Wouldn’t be a job for the Order of the Shield otherwise, would it?”
“Why don’t we just blow the place up?” someone asked.
“Because the objective isn’t to destroy the mansion,” I said. “The Council want Richard Drakh, alive if possible. Secondary objective is to recover any strategic intelligence and imbued items within the building.”
“Ambitious.”
“For what it’s worth, I agree with you. However, the Council has decided that our operational objectives are to take the mansion intact.”
“Lovely,” Landis said, rubbing his hands together. “Any chance of backup?”
“After a fashion,” I said. I activated the focus, and a pair of aircraft appeared at head height above the mansion, circling lazily. They were small and sleek, grey coloured with swept-back wings. “The Council has—reluctantly—exercised its influence. A flight of Panavia Tornadoes from the RAF, armed with Paveway guided bombs, will be on station when we launch the attack.”
“Didn’t you say the Council wanted the place intact?” Tobias asked.
“I managed to convince them that the risk of the attack failing was high enough that it was worth preparing a backup plan,” I said. “Needless to say, this option should be considered a last resort. It’ll be a pain in the neck for the Order of the Cloak to cover up, it’ll cause significant collateral damage, and most of all, from the Council’s point of view, it’ll mean we’ll have no idea whether Richard Drakh or any of his cabal are dead.”
“I don’t think we need to bomb the place to know the answer to that,” Tobias commented.
“We have been telegraphing this attack for a pretty long time, yes,” I said. “Still, those are our orders. Any other questions?”
I looked around the room. A couple of the Keepers shook their heads.
“Then let’s get ready,” I said. “We’ll be moving out in a little under one hour. Operation is scheduled to start at ten oh five.”
“Into the bloody breach again,” someone commented.
I smiled slightly. “Let’s hope it’s not as literal this time. Look on the bright side. In a couple of hours, this war might be over.”
“And how exactly—?”
“Alex?”
I snapped back to the present. Anne was standing next to me, holding a tray. “Would you like some?”
I stared for a second, then shook off the memory. “No. Thanks.” The dessert was something white and creamy. I hadn’t noticed her bring it in.
“. . . women’s healthcare is so bad in this country,” Elizabeth was saying. “I had to wait nearly two hours for an appointment and I didn’t get a proper interview until I saw the doctor. It could have been an emergency and they wouldn’t have known . . .”
“Johnathan?” Anne asked, moving around.
“Oh, I really shouldn’t.”
“Come on, Johnathan,” the mother said with a smile. “You can’t come all this way and not try some. I insist.”
“Well, I’d love to, but . . . I hate to be a bother, but is it chilled? Anything lactose based really sets off my allergies if it’s at room temperature.”
“Oh, that’ll be fine,” the mother said. “Anne will put some in the freezer and check on it every few minutes. Then you can have it once it’s cool.”
I looked at her in disbelief.
Anne caught my eye before I could say anything: she gave a tiny shake of her head and I held my tongue. Anne disappeared into the kitchen.
The rest of the people at the table were ignoring me now. The conversation had switched over to education and which schools were the best, and I wasn’t being included. I was fairly sure it was deliberate, but I had trouble making myself care. My thoughts kept wanting to go back to last October.
The raid on Richard’s mansion hadn’t been a disaster, but it hadn’t been a success either. The Council had “won,” in the sense that they’d been left in possession of a smoking pile of rubble. There had been a handful of prisoners who’d been outside the mansion when the bombs had hit, but as with the raid on the Tiger’s Palace, none had been mages. Richard hadn’t shown himself on the battlefield at all, and most of his forces had withdrawn through gates before the airstrike. I’d taken some flak for calling the strike, but not that much. It hadn’t been clear who was winning or losing prior to the pullback, but if the battle had played out, the Council forces would have taken significant losses. As things were, they’d lost very few.
All the same, the Council hadn’t been happy. They’d been hoping that the strike on Richard’s mansion would end the war, or at least shut down his operations. Instead, Richard had simply set up shop in a new base, and one that was sufficiently well hidden that the Council had yet to track it down. The one plus from my point of view was that I’d gained a few converts among the Light ranks. The news had got out that I’d been the one to insist on having those Tornadoes standing by, and that had raised my popularity a bit. It hadn’t done anything to make the mages of the Council like me any more, but the security forces, and to a lesser degree the Keepers, had noticed. People whose jobs put them on the front lines pay attention to these things.