Alliance of Shadows (Dead Six Series Book 3)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: The Stakeout
Chapter 2: Whispers in the Dark
Chapter 3: Rampage
Chapter 4: The Princess in the Tower
Chapter 5: Rogue Variables
Chapter 6: The All-Seeing Eye
Chapter 7: La Ville Lumière
Chapter 8: Spy Games
Chapter 9: Breaking Point
Chapter 10: Poor Life Choices
Chapter 11: A Force for Good
Chapter 12: Beauty and the Beast
Chapter 13: The Limey
Chapter 14: The Rescue
Chapter 15: Project Blue
Chapter 16: As Above, So Below
Chapter 17: The New World Order
Epilogue: The Blood of Patriots, and Tyrants
Alliance of Shadows
Larry Correia and Mike Kupari
BOOK THREE IN THE COLLABORATION BETWEEN the creator of the multiple New York Times best-selling Monster Hunter series Larry Correia and the best-selling science fiction author Mike Kupari. The Dead Six series is an inventive and action-packed military adventure series with a touch of conspiracy and big dollop of descriptive firepower!
Europe has spiraled into chaos. A conspiracy years in the making combined with general unrest lead to upheaval and revolution. In the midst of the murderous disorder, mercenary Michael Valentine is in Europe with a small team of his Exodus personnel trying to track down the evil and highly dangerous Katarina Montalban. She has initiated a mysterious plot to do away with those who stand between her and ultimate power. The team is on their own, with few friends, few resources—and racing against the clock. Both Valentine and Lorenzo will have to risk some dangerous alliances if they're to succeed.
Meanwhile, Valentine’s friend, one-time enemy, and sometime partner Hector Lorenzo finds himself in a dungeon owned by Asian drug lord Sala Jihan. He must make a deal that may lead him to cross paths with Valentine again. If two of the most effective killers in existence hunt, even the pandemonium in Europe may be just the first act in an orgy of destruction.
BAEN BOOKS BY
LARRY CORREIA AND MIKE KUPARI
THE DEAD SIX SERIES
Dead Six
Swords of Exodus
Alliance of Shadows
BAEN BOOKS BY LARRY CORREIA
THE SAGA OF THE FORGOTTEN WARRIOR
Son of the Black Sword
THE MONSTER HUNTER INTERNATIONAL SERIES
Monster Hunter International
Monster Hunter Vendetta
Monster Hunter Alpha
The Monster Hunters (compilation)
Monster Hunter Legion
Monster Hunter Nemesis
The Monster Hunter Memoirs
(with John Ringo)
Monster Hunter Memoirs: Grunge
Monster Hunter Memoirs: Sinners (forthcoming)
Monster Hunter Memoirs: Saints (forthcoming)
THE GRIMNOIR CHRONICLES
Hard Magic
Spellbound
Warbound
BAEN BOOKS BY MIKE KUPARI
Her Brother’s Keeper
ALLIANCE OF SHADOWS
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Larry Correia & Mike Kupari
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
A Baen Books Original
Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com
ISBN: 978-1-4767-8185-3
Cover art by Kurt Miller
First printing, October 2016
Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
Printed in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
eISBN: 978-1-62579-540-3
Electronic Version by Baen Books
www.baen.com
Chapter 1: The Stakeout
VALENTINE
Salzburg, Austria
September 3rd
Bullets pinged off the helicopter’s hull as we lifted away from the port. Through the chaos, the scream of the engines and the roar of the machine guns, time seemed to slow to a trickle.
The crew chief ripped off burst after burst from the door gun as the NH-90 maneuvered violently, her pilot trying to avoid the incoming fire. My team leader, Ramirez, was wounded, bleeding out. Tailor was talking into the radio, trying to hide the fear in his voice. Skunky was firing his M14 out one door, while the mysterious Exodus operatives were on the other side of the cabin, huddled protectively around the young girl they’d just rescued. Her hair was silver, almost white. Her face was dirty, and there was fear in her eyes.
We hadn’t gone onto the ship with them. That was their op. We were just supposed to provide transportation and security, supposedly the easy part. Exodus performed the extraction—several of them died in the process—but they got the girl. I didn’t know who she was. I didn’t know why she was so important, why the arms dealer, Federov, kidnapped her in the first place, or why Exodus paid us so much money to help recover her.
The girl’s eyes, intensely blue, unnervingly clear, locked onto me, and everything else seemed to fade away. The fear left her face for just a moment, replaced with . . . curiosity? Interest? She cocked her head very slightly to one side as Ling, the Chinese woman who led the Exodus operatives, and their medic looked her over. She was staring right at me.
“Only you can save us.”
BANG! I came crashing back to reality when a large round blasted a hole in the hull of the chopper. The screams of men were joined with the scream of a warning klaxon. I was pinned against my seat as the chopper began rotating. Through the open door I could see Cancun spinning all around us. The ground rushed up to meet us.
My eyes snapped open. A bead of sweat trickled down my head as I quickly looked around, breathing heavily, trying to remember where I was.
“Are you okay?” Skunky asked. I was sitting in the driver’s seat of a car. It was dark out.
I took a moment to catch my breath. “Yeah . . . yeah, I’m fine.”
“Did you have a bad dream?”
I closed my eyes for a long moment, trying to will my heart to slow down. “The chopper crash in Mexico again.”
Skunky winced. He had been on that op too. His real name was Jeff, and we’d been through a lot together. Riding a helicopter into a swimming pool wasn’t the worst thing we’d been through. Not even close.
“How long was I out?”
“About an hour,” he said.
“You kept watching the house, right?”
“Naw, man, I zoned out playing War of Battle Clans on my phone. Of course I was watching the house. One of us actually has to work.” He had a night vision scope in his hands, and a big camera on the dash. We were parked down the road a bit from the target, away from the street lights, in the shadows beneath some trees.
I stretched. “I’m the brains of this operation. I need my rest.”
Exodus had sustained terrible losses in the operation at the Crossroads, and was desperately short on manpower. There were only six of us in Austria, trying to prevent the end of the world. I kept telling myself that was the reason I was here, that they needed me.
They say it is good to be needed. I didn’t know about that, since the only thing I’d ever been needed for was war.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
We had been sitting in this BMW M3 for hours. “Whoever would’ve thought this is where we’d end up? From a helicopter crash in Mexico to a Beemer in Austria?”
Skunky shook his head. “I think it was meant to be. I don’t believe in coincidences like this.”
“You know, Ariel told me I was right where I needed to be.”
“You should listen to her. She’s a smart girl. She knows stuff.”
That was an understatement. Ariel was the girl we’d rescued off that ship, the weird one from my dream, only she was all grown up now, and palling around with Exodus—a secret organization dedicated to protecting the weak in all the places the civilized world didn’t give a damn about—but which was unfortunately considered a terrorist organization by every law enforcement agency in the world. So she’d come a long way.
“Knowing stuff . . . I can’t argue with that.”
“I still think she’s got psychic powers, man.”
“Dude, shut up. She’s not psychic.” I opened my door. We’d shut off the car’s interior light to not give our position away. “I’ll be right back. I need some air.”
Salzburg is beautiful. It was a clear night, and the city was lovely. Moonlight reflected off of the snow-capped Alps and the Salzach River, which ran through the city. Behind me, at the top of the hill, was Hohensalzburg Castle. The ancient fortress was the most prominent feature of the picturesque city, and was a very popular tourist stop. Narrow, winding streets cut back and forth up the hill leading to the castle. This part of the city was terraced, with houses lining the streets, packed in together. The street I stood on, Nonnberggasse, was at rooftop level with the terrace below me, and I could see down into people’s windows. The street was virtually deserted, as the castle was closed at night.
There was some kind of festival going on in the heart of the city. The city center was lit up, and even from where I was, I could hear music. I wondered what it was like to just be able to go to things like that, to live your life without worrying about staying off the radar. I was sick of the cloak and dagger bullshit.
My phone vibrated in my pocket as I made my way back to the car. I had a text message from Ling.
How are you doing?
The phones were a bit of a risk, but as long as we were careful about what we said we were safe. Cramped, I texted back. I had to get out to stretch.
How are you boys getting along?
Bored. Talking about the old days. How are you?
Same, she wrote back. S. and A. are up front. I tried to sleep for a while, but got a cramp in my neck.
Aww. When this is over, I’ll massage it out for you.
I can’t help but notice that whenever you try to give me a massage, I end up with my clothes off.
I don’t see how this is a problem.
I didn’t say it was a problem. I just think that, perhaps, with you being as easily distracted as you are, the therapeutic quality of your massages is dubious, at best.
I couldn’t help but smile at Ling’s judicious use of proper grammar, punctuation, and capitalization in her texts. It was adorable. I disagree, I sent back. Those massages always make me feel great. Hey, you should send me a picture.
Is that so? Fine. Let me find one you haven’t seen yet.
“Val, look,” Skunky’s tone had changed. It was all business now. “There’s a vehicle arriving at the building.”
Damn it. I grabbed the radio. “Alpha Team, this is Bravo. We’ve got a vehicle approaching the building of interest, I say again, vehicle approaching the BOI. Late model Mercedes sedan, four-door, dark color. We’re getting it on camera, how copy?”
“Understood,” Antoine replied. His deep voice boomed over the radio. “We’re moving now. Keep eyes on until we get to you.”
“Roger,” I said. We had kept our vehicles separate so as to be as discreet as possible, and to watch different paths of entry. Ling’s team was in a nondescript Range Rover. This part of Salzburg had too many curvy little streets, so it was impossible to cover all possible routes with just two vehicles, but we had to make do with the assets we had.
“Two people getting out,” Skunky said.
“Let me see,” I said, taking the camera from him. Resting it on the steering wheel, I zoomed in and studied the two men climbing the steps to the four story house. It was a narrow building, constructed right up against a rocky outcropping on the hill. It didn’t have a yard, but it did have an adjacent garage. “Bravo Team, Alpha. I think that’s our boy.”
“Copy,” Antoine said. “Stefan Varga?”
Our radios were encrypted and secure, so he could use our target’s real name. I studied the zoomed-in image intently, and compared to a picture I had saved on my phone. “Affirmative.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure as I can be. Get up here.”
“Copy that,” Antoine said. “We’re moving.”
“Roger. As soon as you guys get into position we’re going in.”
“We need him alive,” Antoine reminded me.
“We’ll do the best we can. We . . . stand by.”
“What’s wrong?” Skunky asked.
“Shit,” I growled. “Bravo Team, I got a quick look inside when they opened the door. There are more dudes inside. The guy that answered the door had a weapon, submachine gun maybe.” We had thought the house to be empty. There was no vehicle parked on the street—though we couldn’t see into the garage—and no one had passed by a window in the time we’d been watching the place. They’d kept a low profile. “Security is better than we thought.”
“Understood, Alpha,” Antoine said. “Have we been compromised?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know how many guys are in there, though. This could get ugly. How do you want to run this? We got two options. We can kick the door in and do it the hard way, or we can wait until Varga leaves and try to nab him off the street. Either way is risky.”
Ling’s clear soprano voice came over my radio. “If Varga gets away, the last two months have been for nothing.”
“Copy that, but if there are six armed dudes in there plus our new arrivals, we’re gonna have a bad night. Everything will be for nothing if we all get killed.”
“This is your op, Valentine,” Ling said, much more formally than she had been via text a minute ago, but she kept our relationship private and separate from our work. “It is your call. If we try to catch Varga in town, you know what can happen.”
Shit. My mind raced. I’d done this sort of thing before, though door-kicking was not something I was particularly fond of—it’s an easy way to get killed—but if this thing turned into a running gun battle downtown, we’d be lucky to avoid getting arrested by the Polizei, and countless innocent people would be endangered.
Skunky started tapping me on the shoulder as I brooded. “Dude. Dude! We’ve got another vehicle approaching, a motorcycle.”
I keyed the radio. “Bravo Team, stand by. We’ve got a motorcycle rolling up to the house. Bullet bike of some kind. Only the driver. He’s wearing riding gear and a full face helmet. He has a messenger bag. Skinny guy, maybe five foot nine, and I’m sorry I can’t convert that to centimeters or hectares or whatever for you. He’s got a package in his hands, heading up to the door.”
“What do you want to do?” Antoine asked.
“Hold up for a moment. Maybe he’s just making a delivery or something. It looks like he left the bike running. He’ll probably leave in a minute. We’ll wait until he’s clear before we move in.”
“Understood.”
I watched on my little screen, recording, as the newcomer walked up the steps to the door of the house. He opened the bag and pulled something out of it.
“Is that a weapon?” Skunky asked.
BOOM! The stranger blasted the door handle with a sawed-off shotgun. He kicked the door open and went inside.
What the hell? There had been no hesitation there. It was roll up and breach. It had taken me by surprise, so it was probably a whole lot
worse for our target. I keyed the radio mic. “Bravo, Alpha, shots fired, shots fired!” More gunfire erupted from inside the building as I spoke.
“Say again?”
“There’s a goddamn gun battle going on in there!”
“We need Varga alive,” Ling said.
“I know!” But I didn’t want to jump in the middle of somebody else’s gunfight.
“You want to take a look?” Skunky asked.
Seconds ticked by. Who’d want Varga dead? Well, besides us? The man worked for a slave trading, arms dealing, drug running, organized crime syndicate. It was probably a long list. More gunfire came from the house. We’d spent months waiting for a chance to grab this guy. “Damn it . . . Come on.” I pulled a ski mask over my head and drew my Smith & Wesson 629 revolver. The big .44 Magnum glinted dully in the moonlight as I opened the door. I looked at Skunky. “You ready?”
He got his mask on, drew his Beretta, and nodded.
I hit the radio and warned Ling’s team, “We’re going in.”
“We’re on the way.”
We moved quickly but cautiously across the cobblestone street, guns drawn, toward the house. The muffled pops of gunfire could still be heard from where we were. This was a sleepy neighborhood, and one of the neighbors was sure to have called the cops by now.
“It sounds like a deathmatch round going on in there, and someone’s got a kill streak going.”
“I just hope the fuck Varga is still alive,” I said as we neared the house.
Skunky pointed toward the top floor. “There’s movement in that window.”