The Young Lady is a Reborn Assassin

Chapter 148



We snuck across the hilly terrain and approached the tower with Frankfort in tow. The guards were few in number and not enhanced like Welt’s assassins, which did not bode well for our chances of finding him. The last hope was that there was information or valuable resources tied up inside that we could steal or sabotage.

“Are we going to kill them, or tie them up?”

Veronica shook her head, “We can’t sneak up on all of them. Let’s take care of it and watch out for reinforcements from inside. I’ll take the three on the left, you handle the two on the right.”

It was a difficult trade-off to make. It was possible that more men were waiting inside the tower for this exact eventuality, but there was little solid cover between us and the building now. If we were caught in a bad spot, then it would be game over before we got started.

“Go!”

We crested the hill at the same time, sliding down the unsteady soil and approaching with our guns raised into firing position. We both unleashed a series of devastatingly precise gunshots, cutting down the entire outside patrol before they could figure out what was going on. Their bodies slumped down onto the dirt track that surrounded the building on all sides.

We approached one of the doors after a brief pause and prepared to make our entry.

“Let me go in front.”

“I’m not going to be able to shoot past you.”

“I’m going in front,” she repeated – leaving no room for debate.

She kicked down the door and intentionally stood in front of me. The lobby of the building was completely trashed, and there was no sign of any further resistance just yet. Victoria took the lead, snaking through the discarded furniture and approaching one of the long corridors that moved through the length of the building like arteries.

There were four stairwells spread across the ground floor that allowed visitors to move between the wards and recreational areas. They went up and down. I didn’t realize there was a basement here too, they must have added it while constructing the foundation needed to support it on the shifting soil below.

Thunderous footsteps stampeded towards us from above. We paused and spread apart. To demonstrate Veronica’s experience – she waited even as the first foe appeared at the bottom of the steps because he was still fumbling with his rifle, not expecting us to already be so close. As soon as the man behind him moved off the bottom step, she opened fire and killed them both.

It was my turn after that. Veronica needed to reload. I momentarily took point and shot the next two, who despite seeing what happened to their friends still blindly bumbled into view without being prepared.

“What the hell are they teaching these morons?” I wondered. Welt wasn’t keeping his best here to guard the tower. The doubt I felt about finding something constructive grew even stronger.

Veronica had reloaded her pistol and retook the lead, “A lot of his loyalists are untrained men and women who have no experience. I initially believed that he would rely on former militia members from the civil war but...”

“But?”

“Despite their wide proliferation decades ago - they’re too old and difficult to find now, and they have no desire to willingly sign on for more bloody warfare. Welt is moving so quickly that the training they did receive is substandard.”

“And what about the individuals he’s been deploying as assassins?”

Veronica shook her head.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen evidence that suggests they receive substantial training either.”

Thinking back on it, most of the assassins I’d run into relied simply on their durability to get through a fight. They could point and shoot, and wreak havoc with their magic, but they were not a well-trained fighting force by any stretch of the imagination. If they were that concerned about it they wouldn’t have recruited a child onto the team.

Victoria shushed me. We were moving up to the next floor to clear it out. The building was huge and filled with dozens and dozens of rooms to hide in. There were just as many large ward areas, which were intended to hold hundreds of sick patients during outbreaks or crises.

Without the sound of gunshots to shatter the atmosphere, the tower took on a haunting aura. The signs of decay were everywhere I looked, with shattered windows and twisted metal furniture casting long shadows as the sun moved towards the horizon. There were still signs of life, both from the original occupants and Welt’s gang of killers.

I heard gunshots from outside before silence returned. We had to keep moving and trust that Frankfort could handle those trying to escape.

We passed a notice board in one of the staff rooms, which was still covered with papers and schedules for the nurses who manned the floor. Away from the broken windows, the building remained in usable shape. We soon stumbled across one of the watertight chambers that they had converted into a living space.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead willingly living here,” Veronica whispered.

It was a pigsty. They had left their garbage piled up in the corner. Dirty clothes hung from a line running across the room, with some larger bedsheets being used to offer a small amount of privacy in the communal space. The wind rattled the old wooden window frames, it would be difficult to get any sleep with strong gusts going on all night.

A silhouette moved behind one of the hanging sheets. I fired through it – staining the off-white fabric with a splatter of red blood and causing the enemy in hiding to fall into it, collapsing into a heap in the middle of the room. I trained my aim on him and checked to make sure he was a goner. A dropped revolver lay on the floor where he was standing.

Veronica stared at me. She was still grappling with the implications of how her daughter had gone so wrong when she wasn’t paying attention. She was trying to discern what type of training I had received. She had an encyclopaedic knowledge of every terror group, paramilitary organization, intelligence agency and clandestine military force in the world.

I had a brief career as a member of a SWAT department close to my hometown, but a lot of what I did was self-taught. I would rerun my hits in great detail and critique every single move I made. The rest came from looking deep into the world of confidence scams and social infiltration techniques. Sneaking around was suspicious – but looking like you belonged somewhere was not.

She was going to draw some type of conclusion based on what she knew, but how could she align her final choice with my history? If she concluded that I had been trained by a terrorist organization from across the ocean, when, where and how would I have been detained to receive that instruction? It was a puzzle with no answer because the truth was absurd beyond reason.

We cleared the rest of the floor and moved up, but as we progressed it became obvious that the upper areas of the building were too damaged to be occupied for any length of time. We returned to the third floor and made our final sweep, coming across two more men who were trying to get around us in the other main corridor.

Their backs were turned – so it wasn’t a fight. They joined their friends as another pair of corpses. That was the full extent of the security at the tower. We spent another twenty minutes exploring everywhere else before reuniting with Frankfort in the lobby at the designated window.

“Three tried to run, but they weren’t expecting someone to be on watch.”

Veronica sighed, “Okay. Let’s move into the basement. Stay alert.”

We descended into the bottom level of the tower, which was cast from what were once the most modern materials available. It was all dull-grey concrete, supported by thick pillars of metal that penetrated the roof and supported the entire building from below. It had to resist the shifting soils of the coastline without letting the tower waver, so it was tough enough to survive a bombing run and then some.

That sounded like a good reason to build a secret laboratory in here, and that was what soon became apparent as we stalked the desolate corridors. The rooms were converted for a variety of uses, with the smaller ones acting as cells for their victims, and the larger chambers housing the various tools and benches utilised to create their end product. In the centre of the basement was a large basement refrigerator, once used to store biological samples at the sanatorium.

It was not a secure lock around the door seal, with cold air seeping through the cracks. I peered through the small window and found myself faced with a dozen shelves. Most of them had been emptied, but a few stragglers had a handful of vials on them. They were all filled with a black liquid.

“This is where they produced their serum,” I observed.

“So why is it so lightly guarded?”

“They have control over the royal family, the government, the police, and now even WISA. There is no reason for them to hide like this anymore. They’ve emptied out every usable sample and transported them away. They must have another facility in mind to continue production.”

“Let’s worry about that once we’re certain this place is clear,” Frankfort insisted.

We left the refrigerator behind and continued to explore the basement. I did not envy the people who were kept captive here. There was the sound of something clattering and hitting the floor up ahead in one of the smaller chambers, followed by the hushed profanity of someone who didn’t want to be found.

The three of us approached the door and stood on both sides. Veronica and Frankfort followed the WISA manual to the letter, pushing it open with their guns raised, ready to meet the challenge of whoever was waiting on the other side with speed and momentum.

“W-Wait, don’t shoot! Please don’t shoot! Look, my hands are up!”

I looked through the doorway into a miserable-looking living quarters. Of all the people I was expecting to see inside the crumbling tower, Genta Cambry was very much not one of them. He was cowering in the corner of a jail-cell bedroom, with no windows to bring in outside light. He peered through the gaps in her arms, recognized who we were, and crawled over on his hands and knees like a desperate dog.

“Veronica! Maria! Am I ever so pleased to see you both again!”

He was buttering us up. The terror he felt melted away in an instant. That cultist situation was the most stressful few days of his life, and it was obvious at the end of it that he couldn’t wait to see the back of us and return to his regular routine. I didn’t blame him.

“There is no need for the pleasantries, Genta,” I replied. I reached out and helped him up onto his feet.

“Oh, no. I mean every word of it – honest. If anybody can help me out of this damnable place it’s you two.”

This poor guy couldn’t catch a break. First, he was being harassed by violent gangs of mad cultists, and now Welt had kidnapped him for his presumptive expertise about the demons he was attempting to exploit. Frankfort seemed suspicious of him, at least until she recalled that he was the man who pulled a fast one on Veronica during the Scuncath incident.

I holstered my gun; “What did they bring you here for?”

Genta adjusted his glasses and dusted off his suit, “Well, first they ‘asked’ me to help them ‘harvest’ more biological material from the Horr. They wanted to utilise the summoning circles to bring more of them into this world so they could slaughter them like cattle, and then extract what they needed to create more soldiers.”

Veronica groaned, “That sounds crazy enough to be Welt’s idea, alright.”

“I implored him that there was simply no safe way to summon a Horr and then kill it without significant risks. As demonstrated by that horrible beast they summoned at the fort – they can have any number of unusual abilities that make containing them impossible. A locked room would not stand up to that sort of matter-changing power.”

“What did he do then?” I asked.

“He seemed rather shocked that I was willing to stand up to his scheme, to be honest. I was being forthright about the risks he was taking. However, his answer did not fill me with confidence. The men who would die bringing his idea to life were merely expendable. I was forced to ward him away by offering what little I remember about summoning circles, nothing that he could use, mind you.”

I frowned, “A lot of that information was disseminated amongst the cult members after they stole the book. I have no doubt that they could find someone willing to share it in exchange for money.”

“He came to the source first,” Genta shrugged, “The man who created the serum, Landon Sloan, did not share my reservations. This is his masterwork – and he will do anything to ensure that there is a steady supply of that goddess-forsaken poison for their new secret police.”

Veronica connected the dots; “These soldiers, do they have ghostly skin, bloodshot eyes, increased durability, and enhanced magical power?”

“Yes. I shouldn’t have to say that injecting Horr blood into your body has serious side effects. The density of the fluid and the concentrated magical energy are bound to interfere with the normal function of a human system. I suspect that their urgency in gathering more of it is because they fear what may happen should their current crop die out.”

And that included the boy who attacked the funeral.

“Does that include a boy around my age?”

Genta seemed hesitant to share what he knew about that situation.

“That boy? He’s a devil, he is. Even worse – he’s Sloan’s son. They called him Charlie.”

Veronica was stunned, “He did that to his own son?”

She was always even-handed and calm under pressure, but that was a revelation that struck at the core of her own personal motives. Everything she did was for the sake of creating a ‘safe’ Walser where I wouldn’t be in danger – so the thought of intentionally poisoning her own child and turning him into a half-demon super soldier made her stomach churn.

“Aye. That was his son. It’s not just that serum either, he’s been filling his head with all kinds of toxic ideas, turning him into the perfect little ideologue for whatever they have planned. He didn’t seem to flinch about potentially killing me for stepping out of line,” Genta explained.

“Are you the only one here aside from the guards?”

Genta shook his head; “Sloan and Welt aren’t here anymore. They both headed out so they could keep a closer eye on their soldiers. I haven’t seen him for a week now. He used to be on my case every chance he got. Said I could rot here until I produced the results they wanted.”

But Genta never had any intention of doing that even if he still had his full memories of the research he did. He was the one at the forefront of that field – and he was always conscious of the potential consequences should that info fall into the wrong hands.

“Let’s do one final sweep of the premises, and then we can press Mister Cambry for what he knows – and search for evidence that can help us,” Frankfort instructed. He followed us out of the cell and into a safer spot.

Veronica and I went back and double-checked for any signs of life from the guards, but I was confident that they were all dealt with. They were the graveyard shift, sent here to do the bare minimum and keep an eye on Genta while he slaved away on the summoning circle project.

The entire gang was waved over, although they had serious trepidations about having to walk past the dead bodies that surrounded the front entrance. I felt some irritation beginning to build inside of my head. If they were so squeamish about this – why did they demand to be brought along on the trip? At least they helped us search the basement for any useful information. It would have taken way too long with just the three of us.

Samantha and Adrian followed me into the cold storage area.

I could already sense the strong magical energy being emitted by the vials of blood that had been left behind. I held it up, feeling it diffusing through the palm of my hand and into my veins. Merely touching the glass was enough to start a steady drip of energy into my body, which explained how potent it was when injected directly.

Genta overheard Sloan speaking to Welt about the process of making it usable in the human body. It was too thick taken straight from the source – which could clog veins and valves and cause heart problems, overstressing the muscle and making it fail. Even more dangerous was the concentration of magical energy, which could destabilize molecules and atoms and create an effect similar to radiation poisoning.

The first step was dilution to try and reduce the negative effects. The complicated equipment in the labs would be used to strain the blood into smaller, less concentrated batches. That would then be combined with a saline solution of water and salt to make it palatable to humans.

Sloan burned through a lot of innocent people to make his serum work.

Adrian was nervous, “I get a bad feeling looking at these vials. Is this what they’ve been pumping into those lunatics?”

I put it back in place; “Yes.”

“I can’t believe that anyone would willingly make themselves like that for a noble they don’t even know,” Samantha said.

“They think that being aligned with his politics is enough to earn his favour and admiration, even though he only sees them as useful tools. They will be the ones who bear the negative consequences even if he succeeds.”

Adrian moped at me, “You didn’t seem so concerned about his ‘tools’ when you were shooting them dead a moment ago.”

“I never said that I am empathetic to their position. One who picks up a weapon with the intent to use it cannot then complain when they become a target. They are pitiable in the most morbid sense of the word. A gaggle of fools who care not for the consequences of their actions lest they affect them personally.”

And for that matter – Adrian was very eager to join in and pick up a gun when he insisted on coming with us. He was trying to get a rise out of me.

“Is this because I told you to stay back?”

Adrian threw up his arms, “Yeah. It’s because of that. I don’t need you protecting me anymore. I don’t understand why you can’t see that.”

“This isn’t about protecting you, Adrian. Living with the weight of that on your shoulders for the rest of your life is something that should be avoided if that’s possible. There is nothing to envy about being a killer.”

“Weight? You gunned down those people like they didn’t even matter! Are you even taking this seriously?”

“Of course I am!”

I snapped – my calm mask breaking for a moment. Adrian and Samantha shot up straight, their bodies rigid at the sound of my voice being raised.

“Do you want me to dig them all a grave in the middle of a gunfight? To say their final rites? To send a letter apologizing to their families? I take this seriously. I always have, and I won’t stand for you questioning me like this.”

Adrian and Samantha knew they were walking on eggshells. This was not the theatrical outrage I wielded like a weapon at the academy. I was genuinely angry with him for daring to suggest that I was being flippant in a life-threatening situation. Adrian was forced to accept that he’d overstepped the mark with that accusation.

“I just don’t get it.”

“And hopefully you’ll never have to! Don’t let curiosity be the only reason you choose to take someone’s life.”

Adrian reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch, holding it in the air for us to see.

“When I got this, I thought I could really do something good with it, help people, maybe stop all of this crazy bloody stuff from happening – but every time I’m forced to face down the fact that I can’t do shit all! I’m just a bloody coward.”

I shook my head; “Let me say this. I don’t always feel sorry for the people I kill. Some of them are bastards, rotten to the root, but I still remember every single one, and I still don’t have fun while I’m doing it. In my eyes – what good are manners when you’ve taken the single most precious thing that any person can possess?”

Adrian’s hands slumped back to his sides. Before the odd argument where we both talked at odds with one another about different subjects could conclude, Genta walked through the door and into the refrigerator with us. His eyes turned to the watch clutched in his fingers.

“Is that watch what I think it is? Is that genuine time reversing timepiece?”

I nodded; “I didn’t know you were a connoisseur of rare magical items too, Genta.”

“I have a lot of interests. I had a phase where I was very interested in reading everything I could about these sorts of inventions. That metalwork, heraldry and fine detail is unmistakable.”

Adrian snapped the lid closed and shook his head, “It’s not much use at the moment. The crystal inside can store enough power to travel through time – but it was wasted by some fool after it was stolen from me. It’ll take years for it to recharge.”

Genta nodded, “It certainly will if you rely on ambient magic in the air!”

The lightbulb in his head sparked to life, and it took a few false starts to get his idea out to the rest of us.

“But what if you don’t have to rely on ambient absorption? We’re surrounded by vials filled with extremely potent samples of Horr blood. You need only submerse the crystal in it for a brief spell and it should charge much quicker.”

Adrian was hesitant; “Won’t that cause damage to it?”

“No, not at all. Those dense crystals are very durable – and the Horr blood isn’t acidic or anything like that. It’s simply very dense and filled with magical energy. It’s not as if I’m telling you to ingest it or inject it into your bloodstream.”

Adrian toyed with the back plate of the watch. He could easily unscrew it and retrieve the crystal inside. Was it worth giving his idea a shot? The watch was extremely useful. It couldn’t change the past – but having it available meant that we could bring about a more favourable present.

Genta clicked his tongue, “It’s your decision. Veronica sent me to grab Maria.”

The argument would have to wait until later.


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