Meanwhile, back at the Duke's grand ball, things were getting confused. Lots of revelers were fleeing out the front door. A surprising number of them were nude. Not a few of the naked men had a very angry and fully dressed woman giving them all hell as a pretty young thing in her birthday suit tried to distance herself from the older couple while still fleeing the rattle of automatic gunfire from the south of the residence.

  Maybe there was a reason why so many of the doors on the first floor were closed and locked.

  Inside, the Duke and his scar-faced henchman were arguing. The Duke felt absolutely safe. "What are we paying all those Red Shirts you hired for if not to keep me safe in the middle of town?"

  "Clearly, Your Grace, something is going on. You should at least go to the command center where you can be in a position to hear of developments."

  "I thought you told me you would keep me appraised of any developments," the Duke snapped, while enjoying the ministrations of several of his bevy of willing girls while doing things to them that made them giggle.

  Vicky shook her head. Where had the Bowlingames found this outlier from Darwin's law of survival of the fittest?

  While those two argued, in the Park Blocks between the residence and the hotel tower filled with doomed hostages, people milled about, continued their arguments, and tried to find someone willing to loan them something to cover their nakedness.

  There weren't a lot of takers. Most were busy calling their chauffeurs to pick them up. However, there was no parking garage around the park block except the one under the hotel that was, presently, filled with explosives.

  Most of the limos and their drivers lined the streets south of the residence. Between them and their employers, lots of bullets were still flying. Many talked among themselves, weighing this against that, before they finally concluded that they weren't paid enough to drive through gunfire.

  They stayed put.

  About the time that Vicky began to examine all the potentials for more fun around the residence, Admiral Bolesław interrupted her musings.

  "Your Grace, I've waited patiently for you to tell me what's going on around you, and you've been very quiet. We did observe five explosives quite close to your position. Do you require any assistance, Your Grace?" sounded more like "Now can I do some hammering around your position, you dumb, suicidal Imperial?"

  "We do have everything in hand," Vicky answered, checking to see if the captain had any copters she might borrow. He did. She was just about to ask him for the loan when there was an explosion off to her right not two blocks away.

  The first was followed by a second, then, in slow succession, a third and a fourth. Finally, there were two more exploded so quickly as to sound more like one. After that, silence fell.

  "Your Grace," Admiral Bolesław said on net, "you are now surrounded. Will you excuse me while I and General Pemberton try to save your ass?"

  "Certainly, Admiral, and I'm very grateful, sir."

  "You scared?" Captain Blue asked.

  "I will admit to being worried," Vicky said through suddenly dry lips.

  Behind them, their sniper fired again.

  This time, his fire was met with return fire. Of course, all the rooftops around were being sprayed with automatic weapons fire as well, so it didn't seem like anything personal.

  "Do you think we could drop some noise makers and a whiz bang behind one of these teams?" Vicky asked the captain.

  "I'm willing to try, Your Grace, but we may have cried wolf once too often. I'm thinking that we've culled the herd of the dumb ones. Still, it's worth a try."

  They tried spooking the rear of the column off to their right. It caused some distraction, and halted their advance for a few minutes as the officers and sergeants assessed the situation. Meanwhile, none of the gunners were up emptying their magazines with wild abandon. Most seemed to huddle down against the nearest wall, waiting for orders.

  The captain was right; the stupid ones were already casualties.

  "How about a roadside bomb for the ones to the west?" Vicky asked.

  Two skitter copters, neither with a full charge, one with a noise maker and the other with a roadside bomb, flitted off to deliver their loads.

  The force to the west had pulled back after tripping the first daisy chain. Now, cautiously, they were advancing again. The captain had bent the bomb so it would send flechettes out in a full ninety-degree arch. It was left at the corner of the next building up, about where the first chain of explosives had sent the team fleeing.

  The street there was still littered with dead and a few wounded that hadn't been picked up.

  From both sides of the street, an officer ordered fire teams forward at a run.

  Right as they were about halfway across the street, Captain Blue fired the claymore. The bomb was designed to destroy a truck. What it did to the fifteen people either moving or up, expecting orders to move, was a slaughter.

  There were no cries from the street this time. More bone was visible than flesh.

  The follow-up troops took one look at the blood and gore and broke for the rear. Their officers seemed to have been a part of the slaughter. There was no one to rally them, so they just kept running.

  A street back, a noise maker went off. One of the armed drones was hovering quietly overhead. It shot the man leading the rout.

  He went down. The man behind him stumbled and fell, his gun going off. The soldier behind those two sprayed his fire to his right where another team was running.

  In a moment, the fratricidal battle was back on.

  It would be a while before the west side troops would quit killing each other. It would be even longer before new and strange officers could reorganize the rabble into a fighting force.

  That left Vicky with only the assault teams coming over from the east and the stalled team to the south.

  Oh, and there were the Park Blocks to be tickled.

  She had lifted one of the remaining noise makers up to the Park Blocks. She dropped it among the trees and bushes. There was a moment's pause, then a shot rang out.

  Everyone in the two tree covered blocks froze. Then, some goon whipped out his gun and started looking around for someone to shoot. Of course, a lot of goons now had their guns out. More shots were fired. Some snob in white tie and tails pulled a pistol from the inside of his coat and started shooting at anyone with a gun.

  He didn't last long, but he did bag three of the plug uglies before they got him, and a few others besides.

  Now, shots were flying in every direction. No one was in charge here and no one had any idea who was doing what to whom.

  Meanwhile, all the beautiful people or the naked people, or at least anyone without a gun, were running for their lives. People bolted in every direction, not looking back, not slowing down.

  By the time the armed bodyguards realized that they were stalking each other through the bushes and killing each other, the deed was done. Most of those with any power on Dresden were busy racing away from where the levers of power were located.

  Now, how to get at the Duke? Vicky thought.

  "Your Grace," the captain said, "I think we've about run out of luck."

  Vicky glanced at his board. She couldn't find anything wrong in his conclusion.

  47

  The feed from the overhead drones showed that someone had finally put his finger on the epicenter of their problems tonight. Troops all along the western edge of the battle that had previously been scattered over twenty blocks were now moving down from the north or up from the south to concentrate a few blocks back from her building.

  "Even the stupid can only stay dumb for so long," Captain Blue observed.

  "Yes. I remember Admiral Krätz warning me that hope is not a policy," Vicky agreed. "How many claymore mines do we have left?"

  Captain Blue rummaged in the sack that had been tossed up on the roof of the elevator well. "Five, six, seven," he counted.

  "Well, there is no benefit to dying with spare ammo," Vicky said, not remembering where she'd heard that.

  They had two half-charged copters. From the gauges on the power source, these were likely to be the last they'd get.

  Vicky and Captain Blue quickly bent a claymore into a U, strapped them to the bottom of the quad copter, and dispatched one north and the other south.

  As the copter struggled to lug their heavy cargo out, Vicky and the captain located two concentrations where the troops were clumping up under the watchful eyes of their officers, and moving quickly and purposefully. They were heading like a homing missile straight for the streets that surrounded Vicky's perch.

  Both Vicky and Captain Blue had their copters come in fast and low from the west. They dropped off their loads right at the corner of a building across the street from the rally point. Then they skittered quickly away.

  It looked like a Red Shirt spotted one copter. He shouted something and fired off a burst at the retreating copter, only to get slugged by the nearest NCO.

  "No shooting until I tell you to shoot," rang out loud.

  He was drowned out by two explosions, one right after the other.

  The screams were horrible.

  The Red Shirts had collected several hundred troopers, intent on storming forward toward Vicky's building redoubt. They hadn't been prepared for this.

  Hundreds were down: dead, wounded, screaming. Those that weren't out of it knew that death was coming from the sky. Long bursts of automatic weapons fire streamed up into the night.

  Of course, what goes up must come down.

  There were more casualties, and more troops looking for the source of the rounds that killed and wounded their buddies.

  It took the officers a good fifteen minutes to arrange a cease fire.

  That was enough time for the captain to spot several of the remaining officers and most effective NCOs. Before the last friendly fire fell silent, his two armed copters took out a quarter of the command structure.

  Unfortunately, the officers had selected a few of their better troops to search the sky. One of the armed skitter copters fell to a fusillade of bullets as it shot down the senior-most officer of the task force coming in from the west.

  "Your Grace," Maggie said, "The duke has gotten reports of armored vehicles in town. One of our companies charged into a movie theater and liberated the hostages. I think he's ready to blow everything up."

  "Captain, try and keep them off my roof long enough for me to get this job done."

  "Yes, Your Grace."

  He turned to his board and Vicky stared off at the still brightly lit ducal palace. In her eye, Maggie was showing her the duke hurrying upstairs, and puffing as he reached the second floor. None of his bevy of girls were in evidence now.

  "Tanks! What are they doing with tanks on the ground?" the Duke snapped. "You said their battleships were leaving! You said they couldn’t land tanks without us knowing! You fool, I should have taken your head long ago."

  "And I should have let you drown into your own shit years ago. I told you to keep the kill button in your pocket."

  "And you don't think they would have shorted it out or jammed it?" the Duke snapped. "You are an idiot."

  Can this marriage be saved? Vicky thought to herself as the supreme power on Dresden bickered with his chief henchman and boot licker.

  Vicky shuddered as something exploded around her, but she kept her eyes on these two as she rallied every nano scout that she could lay her hands on to join them as one labored and the other half dragged the other up the marbled staircase.

  If she could have, Vicky would have loved to have greased the stairs or done something to get these two flat on their backs with broken necks at the bottom of the staircase. She'd have to put some thought into how to do that when she had a few spare moments.

  " Admiral Bolesław," Vicky whispered softly.

  "Yes, Your Grace?"

  "I may have a fire mission for you. On the west side of the cupola on the Duke's residence, there is a comm room. I think all communications may be cycled through that one room."

  "I've got sensors and my fleet gunnery expert looking at it. Yes, Your Grace. We have the residence. Nice of him to light it up so brightly. We also see the cupola atop the roof. You say the comm center is right to the west of it?"

  "It's the side closest to my direction. Can your sensors make anything off the place?"

  "There's not a lot of radio traffic coming out of there."

  "They're using landlines," Vicky said.

  "We don't get anything off of landline."

  "Okay. I want six 18-inch lasers targeted at eight meters west of the cupola. You do not have weapons release. I repeat, you do not have weapons release. I'm still trying to deactivate the damn bombs."

  "Understood, Your Grace, we are to target eight meters to the west of the cupola, center of the building. We do not have weapons release. We will not take action until you give us weapons release."

  "You got me right, now, Admiral Bolesław, I've got a hotel to keep from going boom."

  "Good luck, Your Grace."

  There was another explosion somewhere around Vicky, followed by a groan from the captain. "They got another rotor copter."

  Vicky, however, spared the Navy captain no attention. She had left Maggie to observe the two idiots while she worked with most of her computer on the basement below the tower and the various ballrooms around the conference center.

  Nanos were slipped in place, then converted into guillotines to snap the power lines in two. First, they sought out every one of the claymores stuck to the walls around the hostages. There were a lot of them.

  In the parking garage under the convention center were more barrels of explosives. Someone wanted to make sure this place came tumbling down. Several nanos followed those lines up to a control room. There, an officer sat with one eye on a screen flipping through all the ballrooms and another eye on a porno.

  It took Vicky a second glance before she realized it was not a 2D but rather an actual video take from one of the rooms in the tower. Some young and attractive hostage girl was being taken by a very overweight older man.

  Vicky gritted her teeth. She did not have any time to chase that one tragedy down. Maybe later.

  About that time, she did manage to locate the central control for the explosives under the tower. Two men sat there, also watching the same scene instead of paying much attention to the hall cameras. There wasn't much to see; everyone was locked down. The only ones stalking up and down the halls were a handful of guards.

  Vicky got more nano guillotines in place to slice those wires.

  She prayed that she had them all.

  "Your Grace," Maggie said.

  "Yes, Maggie."

  "The Duke is within a few seconds of storming into the comm center."

  "Admiral Bolesław, you have weapons release. Still, hold on my command."

  "I have weapons release. I am holding on your command," the admiral repeated, his voice dead calm.

  The same could not be said for the Duke. He charged into the comm center shouting, "Where is the control box? Where is the control box?"

  "It's in the safe, Your Grace," the senior watch officer said as he shot to his feet.

  "Well, get it out."

  "Do you want us to send out a preliminary warning, Your Grace?" the junior watch officer asked. "There are a lot of people on guard duty."

  "No time! No time! Get me that control box!"

  The senior watch officer bobbled the combination and had to try it again. A few moments later, he again couldn't get it open."

  "Damn it," Scar face screamed, "What's the number?"

  The poor guy rattled it off.

  The henchman snapped the safe's dial through the combination and yanked it open. In a moment, he held a small box with a single red button. He passed it to the Duke.

  "Where do I plug it in?" the Duke demanded.

  The junior watch officer stood aside, leaving his chair to the Duke and pointed at a standard large, male/female cable port.

  The Duke sat as the henchman reached for the cable.

  "Maggie, get as many nanos into that port as you can. Short it."

  "On it, ma'am"

  "Maggie, cut all the wires," Vicky ordered.

  "Wires cut."

  The Duke grinned out the window at the tower at the other end of the Park Block. The base was lost in the treetops, but the top twenty stories shown dimly above them.

  The Duke pushed the button.

  There were no flashes. No explosions. Nothing.

  "Why's the tower still there?" the Duke demanded.

  "Push the button again," the henchman shouted.

  The Duke did. Several times he did. Nothing happened.

  "Admiral Bolesław," Vicky whispered.

  "Yes, Your Grace?"

  "You may fire when ready."

  Vicky didn't have time to take in a breath before a hellish light stabbed from the heavens into the brightly lit ducal residence. One moment, it shown gaudily into the night. The next second, it was blinding. Even a few seconds later, all Vicky could see were the flares of after-images in her blinded eyes.

  "You could have at least warned me," Captain Blue groaned through his pain.

  Vicky rolled over on the rooftop, blinking her eyes madly, trying to blink away the pain and the blindness. Finally, she applied the palms of her hands to both eyes. Nothing helped with either the pain or blindness.

  "I've never been on the ground when you get lasered from orbit," Vicky admitted through teeth gritted against the pain. "I didn't know."

  "No doubt, you'll remember the next time you call down hellfire," Captain Blue said drolly.

  "Are we permanently blinded?" Vicky asked.

  "I hope not," the captain said. "I think this will go away in a day, maybe less. No way to tell. But I can tell you we're going to have the worst headaches for the next month."

  "Damn," was all that Vicky could say.

  From the direction of the Park Blocks came the sound of walls collapsing and a fire burning. By the grace of God, there was nothing nearly as loud as a thirty-story tower coming down.

  From behind them, there were several sharp explosions of a more normal proportion.

 

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