Having worked with DarkRiver over the past couple of months to connect with the cats’ network of human and non-predatory changeling shopkeepers in Chinatown, that connection spreading out through family and business contacts like an ever-growing tree, the Rats had a flow of information coming in not even the PsyNet could beat.
They knew where Henry Scott’s people were landing, their numbers, the approximate type and number of their weapons within seconds of each landing. All that data was routed at once to the DarkRiver teams in charge of holding the city as SnowDancer held the mountains.
The tactical split showed a massive amount of trust from both packs—because some of that mountain land was DarkRiver territory, and if San Francisco fell, then Henry Scott’s army would have the perfect location in which to dig in and throw assault after assault at the wolves. Both parts of the defense had to hold if they were to win this battle.
“A new team’s rappelling down near Russian Hill,” Teijan reported to Clay, “and a bigger one has surrounded Nikita’s building.”
Clay’s voice came through peppered with the sounds of gunfire. “She said she didn’t need backup, but—”
“Wait.” Teijan swore low and hard. “Nikita doesn’t like people poaching on her territory. Fifteen attackers just went down with exploding brain syndrome.” There was no other way to put it—on the video feed coming through a street camera, Scott’s people fell where they stood, their brains leaking out their ears.
The survivors wisely decided to get the hell out of Nikita’s zone.
Teijan smiled, switched connections. “They’re coming your way, Vaughn.” He had, he decided, developed a sudden soft spot for Nikita Duncan, especially given that Psy loyal to her were also feeding information into the Rats’ network.
Catching a new piece of data, he switched connections again. “Lucas, I’ve got jet-choppers flying into SoMa. You need to be prepared for aerial attack.” Connected as he was to the communications systems, he heard the DarkRiver alpha say, “Judd, can you deflect?” just as the assault craft began to drop small, high impact bombs.
“Got it.”
On the screen, Teijan watched the bombs arrow back to the jet-choppers, turning them into spectacular fireballs.
“Holy fuck,” Zane muttered from where he was holding contact with the wolves. “It kind of freaks me out that this guy’s been in the region the whole time without us knowing.”
Teijan had met Judd Lauren earlier that day, had to agree with Zane. “At least he’s on our side.” Pulling up screen after screen of information, he patched in the telepaths and telekinetics supplied by Nikita and Anthony. “Full unit heading through Chinatown to DarkRiver HQ. Ensure the guards are shielded against mental attacks.”
“Understood. Message communicated to all Tp units in range.”
Zane tapped a screen. “Enemy’s ignoring the bunker,” he said, referring to the third sub-basement of a building owned by DarkRiver on the outskirts of Chinatown but held under the name of an unrelated corporation. Right now, it was home to the leopard healer and her team, as well as the mate of the DarkRiver alpha, their child having been taken to safety by the evacuation team. “Would you have your mate in a war zone, Teijan?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “The alpha pair must always be part of a fight. Sascha’s safe in the bunker. Pure Psy has no idea it exists.” If there was a breach, Teijan had a team standing by to whisk them out and away through the tunnels. “Whoa!” He punched a fist into the air as Judd “Freaking Scary” Lauren reversed a missile right into a stealthcraft, turning the night sky incandescent.
But the sweet moment was cut short an instant later as Zane ripped off his earpiece, clapped his hand to his ear. “Oh fuck, something bad just happened in the mountains.”
Chapter 51
AGONY HAZED THROUGH Hawke’s brain. And he realized that Henry Scott might just have outthought them after all. “Brenna,” he said into the mike, “can you block that?” It was almost impossible to speak.
Brenna’s voice came out garbled, and he went to switch to a better channel . . . when he figured out it was his hearing that had gone, blood dripping down the sides of his face from violently ruptured eardrums. Unable to figure out what she was saying, he scanned the combat zone. A large number of his people were down, hands clasped over their ears. Others remained standing, but it was clear their balance was shot.