D. MacHale - The Soldiers of Halla

“Okay,” I announced. “Bring ‘em in.”

Mark instantly lifted his walkie-talkie and barked, “Let’s go.”

The wheels were set in motion. There would be no turning back. I looked at the Travelers and said, “Elli. Aja. Gunny. Patrick. I want you to stay back.”

They all made grumbles of protest, but they knew it was futile. They weren’t prepared for a fight. Their roles were critical just the same.

“Help evacuate this area. We don’t want anybody near this flume once the dados discover the other end on Eelong.”

Mark stepped up to say, “There’s sanctuary all over

Manhattan for those who are staying back. We need all the help we can get to divide them up and get them moving.”

The Travelers nodded in understanding, and acceptance.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Gunny assured me. It wasn’t necessary. I knew they would.

“Do me a favor?” Aja asked.

“What?”

“Think of us when you take him down.” I nodded.

Uncle Press said, “The rest of us will make the journey on foot with the exiles and gars.”

“Boon!” I called. “You up for this?”

“Do you have to ask?” the klee replied.

“Good. Stay with the Travelers,” I commanded.

“Understood,” he answered enthusiastically.

I was glad he was there. We needed all the help we could get.

“What about me?” Courtney asked.

“Courtney and Mark are with me. Kasha, I need you with us too.”

Kasha bristled. I actually saw the fur go up on her back. “What? No. That is not the plan. I am to be with the others.”

“Sorry,” I said. “No arguments.”

Kasha fumed but didn’t fight it. The train was on the tracks, and she knew enough not to get in the way.

I turned to Uncle Press. Beside him stood Siry, Alder, Spader, and Loor. Unlike the other Travelers, this group was prepared to fight.

“This day has been a long time coming,” Alder said.

“You are ready, Pendragon,” Loor said. “We all are.”

“You know something?” I said. “We are ready.”

“Then let’s go!” Siry called out impatiently.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Uncle Press said to me.

I gave them one last look, wondering for a fleeting instant if I’d see any of them ever again. Anywhere. “See you inside the conclave,” I said.

With that, we separated.

I led Kasha, Mark, and Courtney back through the park. As we moved, four black helicopters appeared over the tops of the buildings to the south. They had been lying back, waiting for Mark’s call. Just as planned.

“We need to clear a landing space,” Mark said.

“No, we don’t,” I replied without stopping. “Keep ‘em all in the air.”

Mark scowled. This wasn’t part of the plan. But he didn’t question. He had no idea why I was changing things up… until I led them to the gig that Boon and I had flown in from Eelong.

Mark laughed and raised his walkie to contact the incoming helicopters. “Hold formation. We’ve got another ride.” He then looked to me and added, “Nice.”

Kasha gave me a sly look. “I didn’t think you’d keep me out of the fight,” she said, relieved.

“Zero chance of that,” I answered. “You’re leading the assault.”

She pounced into the pilot seat.

“Take shotgun,” I said to Mark.

He climbed in next to Kasha as Courtney and I hopped in back. The crowd cleared as the rotors began to spin. “You will direct me?” Kasha asked Mark. “Right to the target” was his reply.

As soon as the rotors hit speed, we lifted off the ground and climbed straight up. I looked down to see those who would soon assault the conclave making their way up Fifth Avenue. It reminded me of the start of a world-class marathon. This journey would only last ten miles… the distance to the Conclave of Ravinia. “Look,” I said.

Arriving at the park from all directions were dozens of yellow taxicabs.

“That’s how we’re moving those cannon things and the shooters,” Mark explained. “They’ll arrive on site before the crowd does.”

“Long before, I hope” was my response.

“We’ll get them there,” Mark said with confidence.

“Perfect. You did an incredible job, Mark.”

“Don’t go praising me yet,” he cautioned. “We’re just getting started.”

We hovered in the air over the park. Behind us the four helicopters settled in and hovered at the same altitude-one by one they came into formation. Mark watched to make sure they were all there. I took another look down to see the crowd moving farther up Fifth Avenue. It was an inspiring sight. In front, leading the way, was Uncle Press. Along with Loor, Alder, Spader, and Siry. Aron and Boon, the gar and the klee, were right behind them. This army had a long walk in front of them. That was okay. We had other business to attend to first.

Mark put the walkie-talkie to his lips. “Are we go?” he barked into it.

He got back four replies. “Go one.” “Go two.” “Go three.” “Go four.”

“Follow us, kids,” Mark replied. He clicked off his walkie and motioned for Kasha to kick it.

The gig shot forward, flying straight up Fifth Avenue. I looked down to see that the exiles and gars were waving and cheering us on. We flew over them with our gig in the lead, the point of an arrow, followed by the four black helicopters.

Attack helicopters.

The soldiers of Halla were on the move.

So far everything had gone according to plan, but it all felt so tenuous. Each new step was critical to the success of the following step. Right now, the next step was ours. If we were successful, the attack had a chance. If not, it could turn into a bloodbath before we even got close to the Conclave of Ravinia.

As we flew north, Courtney held my hand. We didn’t speak. What was there to say? Our heads were in the game. There would be time for talk later. I hoped.

We flew through the gray fog and swirling dust that was now a familiar aspect of Third Earth. I hoped that Mark could find his way through the muck. It was hard to see the ground, and the only thing in front of us was nothing. I trusted him, just as I had trusted him so many times before. Kasha dutifully followed his every instruction and made slight course adjustments when asked.

It was about ten miles from the park to the conclave. Not far in a helicopter. There wasn’t much time to kick back and get psyched for the challenges ahead. It seemed as if we had been flying for only a few minutes when Mark said to Kasha, “The bridge is our marker. When we clear the top, drop down fast. Like real fast. The fog will clear. As soon as we spot the target, break left and ascend. We don’t want to be in the way. That would hurt.”

Kasha nodded. She got it.

I hoped that the fog wasn’t covering the top of the bridge structure. It wouldn’t be smart to hit that thing.

“We’re close,” Mark announced.

I felt the tension in his voice. He was focused. He leaned forward, as if those extra few inches would help him to see a little better. Courtney squeezed my hand. Where was that bridge? All we saw was swirling gray.

Mark couldn’t take it anymore. “We’ve gotta be close,” he said to nobody, and toggled his walkie-talkie. “Go hot,” he barked.

The replies came back in seconds.

“One is armed.” “Two is armed.” “Three is armed.”

That was it. Ten seconds passed. I saw a bead of sweat slip down Mark’s temple. His jaw muscle worked furiously. He pulled the walkie back to his lips and was about to speak when…

“Four is armed. Sorry, Mark.”

“You’re killing me here, Tony. You ready?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Show us the way, boss.” “There!” Kasha announced.