Firestorm: The Phoenix Enigma, #3

By Jay Aspen

Who can you trust when your only hope lies in the hands of an old adversary?

 

Jac discovers her friends in the city are in danger from a plot at the heart of a government desperate to hang on to power at any cost.

War damage and failed harvests are raising tensions––and the Resistance has to stop terrorists from starting another devastating civil war.

Jac suddenly finds herself in a key role, using her perceptive skills to warn the rangers of the imminent threat.

Firestorm is the third book in the Phoenix Enigma series, the near-future dystopian epic from Jay Aspen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandfire Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Apr 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201114541

Jay Aspen

Jay writes from experiences in wilderness travel and extreme sports; snow peaks in the Andes, big walls in Yosemite and Baffin Island, sailing the Irish sea to photograph puffins and dolphins. A science degree and training with Himalayan shamans led to an interest in bio-psychology. She lives in the wild Welsh Borders, sings jazz, rides horses.

Book preview

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Resistance Archives 3

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Finding allies within the ranks of the enemy was the key to success for the Resistance. What they could not know was how long and difficult this path would prove.

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Archives 3; 4

Map of Future Britain

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The only predictable thing about complex systems is that they are unpredictable.

Resistance Archives 1

The City

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1

The hulk of the old warehouse complex loomed out of the dusk, a grey shadow against a backdrop of waste ground and scrub. The rain had soaked through Jac’s clothes and brought a chill to her body in spite of several hours of walking across country to reach the city perimeter. Detours to avoid military patrols had delayed the four of them at each road crossing but they had finally arrived at the fence without being stopped. Now all they had to do was find a safe route through the wire under cover of darkness.

Every muscle in Jac’s body ached with exhaustion. Long days on foot and on horseback had been part of forest living before she joined the Resistance, but this life or death flight from a heavily-armed military had been a first for her. Even though she was small and slender, she knew she was physically strong enough to deal with this. It was the fear and tension that had been as tiring as the riding and walking. There had been no time to rest after leaving their horses at the Outlander farm and continuing the journey on foot.

She wondered how long it would take to get used to this level of threat––although she knew in reality it had been there all along, an uneasy sense of danger on the periphery of what had passed for ordinary life back on her grandfather’s farm. The best she could hope for now would be a few hours respite once they reached the safe house in the city.

As they drew closer she could see that the warehouse was derelict, surrounded by a sagging wire fence breached in several places. Windows and doors had long since been smashed, while in the surrounding compound weeds and scrub sprouted between broken lumps of scorched, blackened concrete and shards of broken glass.

Jac stared at the ruined building, suddenly understanding what it was. She backed away in horror.

Kit! This isn’t a warehouse––it’s an old animal factory! We can’t go in there. Tell the others to stop!

Kit heard the sharp edge in her warning and turned back, his eyes restless as he checked the area for approaching armed vehicles or a waiting ambush.

Hey, Jac. If we don’t maintain silent communication here we’ll be dead. We have no idea how close we might be to a military patrol. The place is empty and wrecked now. Does it matter what it used to be?

But Jac was finding it difficult to move on, her early conditioning too deeply ingrained to toss aside on demand.

Gramps told me about it, how everyone died when the resource wars destroyed everything and the whole country started turning into chaos.

That was mostly crop failures and famines.

Not so much here. Our military was one of the most efficient at taking food from people in other countries.

Kit took two long strides to reach her side and grip her arm. How would you know?

She searched her memory for the best way to explain something she had always accepted without question.

I needed to learn about farming when I went to live on my grandfather’s Outland holding in the forest. He taught me everything he knew, right from when I was just a little kid. We all had to learn, no matter how trivial our tasks were, or we risked running out of food. Gramps told me what he saw, before it was all hushed up. An epidemic of variant e. coli transferred into humans and killed off more people than the actual fighting. They killed and burned the animals and the factories, but it was too late. The bug was resistant from antibiotic in the feed. Once it got into humans there was no stopping it.

Kit tightened his grip, glancing anxiously behind them.

I did hear something vague about that a while back, but it was all in the past so I didn’t take too much notice. Why meat is lab-grown now except for chickens. But that shed is the arranged meeting place so we have to go in.

Jac could sense the effort he was making to hold back from just picking her up and carrying her inside. With his powerful build she knew he could easily force her to comply by simply throwing her over his shoulder. She respected his forbearance, reminding herself that her lack of fight-training was already putting the whole team in enough danger. There was no need to add to that simply because of an ingrained fear of residual infection.

After all, the animal hosts of the disease are long gone.

Fine. I’ll go in. She didn’t resist when he steered her firmly in the direction of the blackened and gutted building.

There were few places inside with enough roof to leave a dry area for them to wait in. Kit backed against the concrete wall.

We wait here, work out every exit route, stay alert.

Luc was rubbing tired eyes in an effort to stop them closing of their own accord, his mischievous, mercurial energy finally flagging with exhaustion.

How long is this wait likely to be? I don’t think I can stay awake for more than a minute. If that.

Kit frowned. Maybe you should just go with it then. Sounds like some kind of reaction to all the weird stuff that’s been going on for you. I’ll kick you if anything happens.

Thanks. Just don’t kick too hard. Their newly-recruited double agent curled up on the grubby floor and was unconscious in seconds.

Was a time agreed to meet this guide? Jac was still unfamiliar with their system. It seemed very vague.

From yesterday afternoon onward. It was hard to be exact. But the longer the time window, the more chance it’s been compromised. Stay focused. Kit relapsed into silence.

They stood quietly by the blackened wall, listening for warning sounds through the whispering of light rain on the last shreds of tin roof.

Karim was muttering about missing his creature comforts again and went outside to fetch an old crate to sit on. In spite of the rain and the grimy place they were in, he managed to flash one of his chirpy grins in Jac’s direction as he offered to share his perch with her. She knew he was trying to cheer her up but it was hard to push her feelings beyond the gloom and wet.

Kit made no move, opting to remain standing by the scarred wall, his eyes restlessly scanning the desolate surroundings.

Jac willed herself into lieth-focus, hoping her hunting skills would enable her to hear anyone approaching even if she had no ability to fight them if they proved unfriendly. She glanced at Luc. Still asleep. Even though none of them felt they could trust the erstwhile spy just yet, she felt sure that he would give everything to defend them if they were attacked. Even if his motivation was nothing more than his own survival.

But unlike me, he’s reputed to be a fearsome fighter.

He was almost a year younger and not much taller than she was––but she had already noticed the wiry strength evident in the way he moved and held himself. Even asleep, there was a tension in him that spoke of a readiness to snap awake and strike at anyone moving in for the kill.

Two people out of four designated to act as bodyguards for the two who could not defend themselves. It was not a good recipe for survival. She wondered how Karim managed to function in the team without feeling a useless liability as she did. Pressed against his back on the small crate, she could feel him breathing, aware of him holding focus just as she was, listening intently.

Her mind snapped alert. It had always been like this when she heard the voices of her grandfather’s imaginary elf-guides in the night forest, mental images that had helped her learn the preparation and use of medicinal herbs. Not words, but a sense of understanding and purpose. She could feel Karim keeping a part of himself closed off, protected, the genius technician with the potential to defeat Avarit’s encryptions and firewalls. The other part, the unfit, unskilled teenage liability side of him was poised, ready to hide behind the others, letting them defend his genius aspect with their lives.

Is that how I have to do it? Except, I have no genius to offer. There must be experienced medics in the city who don’t demand this kind of sacrifice from their friends. Or do they?

However strange life at the Warren had seemed during her brief stay there, she had used her habitual assumptions in her efforts to understand it. Now those assumptions were being swept away, leaving her desperate to know how it all worked.

How does Kit deal with all this?

The thought drew her awareness to him and her mindstream connected with his. The steely determination holding his focus on potential threats hit her almost like a physical blow. She refused to let go, letting her mind follow his, exploring every sound, every possible approach route he had noticed on the way in, his heightened senses alert for the first warning of intruders.

And there was something else, something she could only call courage, a total concentration on the need to protect those under his command, and she knew there was no question that he would die for it if necessary. It filled her consciousness, bringing with it a wave of confidence, a hope that she would eventually learn to extend her courage into combat situations the way he did.

At the same time it terrified her.

How can someone pledge their life like that...

She felt him become aware of her. She looked up and their eyes met. She suddenly felt embarrassed, as if she had been spying on something intensely private. Then she caught the tiny shake of his head and the faint smile as he picked up her reaction. His response came back to her.

This is how it’s meant to be.

The shock of it made her lose connection. He sensed it immediately, leaned down and whispered close to her ear.

Very few people can do that, even with intensive training. Try to hold it and stay alert for danger at the same time.

She tried, but kept picking up on his surprise that she had done it without training and it made her want to laugh. She decided to keep things simple while the situation was so precarious.

Best to focus on listening for approaching footsteps.

2

Raine was standing with Fin on the windswept hillside looking down on North Tarn. It was smaller than the Warren, wilder, more exposed. The long low grey-stone farmhouse and barn stood in a broad valley of grass and reeds, with a few stunted trees bent over in the prevailing wind. Below the house the valley dropped suddenly in rocky waterfalls where the trees grew taller and fish darted in dark pools.

Raine’s gaze roamed across the bleak dawn-lit terrain.

I haven’t been back here since the last time I came over with the maintenance crew. It seems smaller now everyone is trying to sort their equipment at once. Overcrowded compared to the Warren.

This place would have to conceal them while their food stores lasted, at least until Burton’s deadly hunt for them was called off. If it was called off. Raine’s focus moved to their small herd of longhorns grazing the tough grass.

It’s going to be hard for the animals. We’ll have to take them down-valley each day to find enough forage. I just hope we don’t have to move on again from here. Exhausting for everyone, mentally and physically––and the only place left to run after this is the Ice Islands.

Raine looked to Fin for advice. He relied on the elderly medic for her years of experience on the frontline. She simply shook her head, honest enough to admit there were no instant fixes to the precarious situation they were dealing with right now. She turned to walk with him back to the makeshift office lodged in one of the outbuildings.

Raine, so far at least, it looks like the decoy worked. The attack force should have followed Luc’s tracker like you planned, which means they are only hunting for us in the city. All you can do is to stay focused on keeping up morale and reinstating the forest patrols, before too many Outlander holdings get attacked by bandits.

She was right of course. Raine was only too aware that he was responsible for all the rangers who had relocated here, as well as the four who had fled to the capital.

Too many new crises competing for priority.

He had to think through the immediate demands of maintaining security now their base was in a more remote part of the wilderness and his patrols were spread thin across the western forest. Reports were already coming in, detailing an increase in bandit raids on Outland farmers. The Tarn was still in chaos after moving everything here...

Inside the farmhouse, the place was jostling with rangers trying to set up their equipment in the restricted space. Raine paced back to his desk, his lean body yearning for action, frustrated by the cramped conditions that allowed no more than two steps in any direction before running into the piles of gear they had evacuated from the Warren. They still had not found anywhere in the Tarn outbuildings to store it and most of it was stacked against walls or wedged between chairs. Raine’s impatience with constantly having to navigate around it was already getting hard to control.

His thoughts were turning to memories of Jac more often than he wanted to admit, knowing that any distraction could compromise his ability to protect his people here. But discipline didn’t stop him being haunted by those green eyes and the trust he had seen in them, a painful reminder that he was no longer at her side and she had no time to learn to defend herself ...

Why the hell did I think it would be safer for her in the city? It’s probably even more dangerous there, with half the security forces still hunting for fugitives from the Warren... Chaos, even years of training don’t always keep my rangers alive.

Even with all their skill and camouflage they had lost friends to phos-grenades and automatic fire. In spite of six years’ experience in command Raine knew that being forced into the role at nineteen had left him over-protective of his team and he was well aware that it was not always the best strategy. He had to avoid inflicting the same disadvantage onto Bel and Kit by pushing them to take over from him before they were ready.

Evie limped in, her boots squelching and her coveralls wet and muddy. Grazed fingers gripped a heavy screwdriver.

Hey, people. I need help getting the hydro started down in the river. The cover plate rusted in and jammed solid. Has anyone seen Bel?

Raine edged through the crowd and steered her back outside, supporting her diminutive figure with one arm as she limped across the rough marshy ground.

Bel is checking the horses. I’ll come with you. He held back from adding that the animals were fractious without their usual handler. Everyone had noticed the effect of Luc’s absence.

They reached the concealed hydro plant in the stream. Raine stopped and looked Evie up and down as she awkwardly adjusted her balance.

How’s the leg?

Stiff and slow, but you did a good job fixing it considering we were stuck out there in the forest at the time.

Maybe you can find something a bit easier to work on for a few days while it heals.

Greg always managed to sort the jammed bits when we worked together on stuff like this. Evie might have been speaking to herself as much as to Raine.

You miss him don’t you? He spoke softly, knowing she was talking about more than engineering problems.

I think he was distracted by what happened to me with those horrible enforcers and he wasn’t focusing properly. I felt it when we were trapped inside that room and I wondered if it was the same when he was outside, when...

She looked up at him, waiting for answers.

Yes. I wasn’t all that close when Greg was killed, but Fin said she noticed that when the sergeant started threatening you, Greg was too disturbed and angry about it to focus properly. Not much, just enough to make a difference. It happens to everyone sometimes. Usually you get away with it. A few times, someone doesn’t. This was one of them.

I should have...

Evie, it’s not your fault. Everyone’s mind-training is their own responsibility. Friends can try to help but they’re limited in how much they can actually change things.

I just keep thinking about what I could’ve done...

Hey, Evie. Don’t carry Greg’s death with you. Remember the good things about him when he was alive. Help Bel get through this. It happened on her watch and she’s taking it hard.

I know. I’ll try not to get caught up in my own stuff.

People are going to find it tough living here. It’s a harsher environment than the Warren. They need resilient people like you. And you still have Luc to deal with at some point.

Evie looked away. I’m trying not to think about him for a while. I can understand how he got into that situation and then couldn’t figure how to get out of it. It’s all the lies that make it hard to think about the future, knowing how easily he’s able to deceive me.

If he survives long enough to get back here, it will be different. He won’t need to avoid deep communication now, so he won’t be able to deceive anyone.

Evie was staring at the ground.

Can it ever be the same again with someone who lied to you for so long?

That one is for you to work out.

3

Colonel Michael Parry arrived back in the city with the military convoy and wasted no time in picking up his own jeep at the garrison for the drive to his office. The return journey from the Warren had been another six hour nightmare on potholed forest roads and war-damaged bridges––and he was thankful to no longer have someone else’s testosterone-induced driving habits inflicted on him. He left the vehicle in its private parking spot, stretching long legs in relief as he got out.

In his late forties, he was still lean and fit, a bit of grey at the temples, a few lines around the eyes––and already he wanted to get back into the action again instead of returning to a desk. Partway to the entrance of the security building he stopped in the open space outside the reinforced glass doors, wondering why the place suddenly felt different.

It’s not the place. It’s you. You’re really seeing it for what it is, instead of letting habit take over.

It was an uneasy feeling. The building itself was state of the art, four concrete and steel blocks fifteen floors high that surrounded and protected the Avarit tower in the middle of the square. Steel and glass corridors linked the structures at ground level while others served as fire escapes on the fifteenth. Four sections; domestic police, homeland security, military, and private security, all in service to the tiny Avarit elite that owned both government and commerce. Four public faces for what was essentially one military force that existed only to serve its owners.

Don’t think about it. We have stability. Everyone who remembers the resource wars knows how essential that is.

It was a message repeated to those like himself, born after the peace treaties were finally adhered to almost fifty years before, when there was precious little left to fight over anyhow.

Except now when the thought came to his mind he could see the contempt in Fin’s eyes in that brief time she had been his prisoner. A reminder that she would probably have fought in those wars yet still rejected his current version of stability.

Few people questioned the past too openly. Avarit media always hyped the ongoing guerrilla war in what used to be north and south America, where widespread ownership of heavy weapons had so far thwarted the syndicate’s attempts to impose martial law. The message was clear.

Be grateful for the control and security we have on this side of the ocean.

No doubt on the other side of the ocean, Avarit media would be telling its citizens a different story, but with international communications limited to the controlling Avarit top brass, anyone further down the hierarchy could only guess.

Parry had already suffered enough career setbacks from his questioning of the repressive price citizens over here paid for their security. In any case, with tensions reaching breaking point, any level of control could not last for much longer.

You can’t stand out here all day. Get on with it.

He walked to his office and sent a memo requesting a copy of Burton’s report regarding their attack on the Warren. The space the memo left behind felt like the brittle quiet in a battle, waiting for the returning hail of bullets. Parry sat unmoving in the ensuing silence for a moment, then took out the unregistered handset Raine had given him and stared at it for a long moment before