Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4) (8 page)

Clan Protectors on the roof and inside the building held off the attack until help could arrive, but while the loyal commanders were distracted, the breakouts from the shipyard occurred.

Rebecca missed all the action, being asleep in a spare bedroom in the Dunallen Mayor’s home. Carrying a take-out cup of coffee, she arrived at the town hall at sunrise. Workers were fitting heavy metal panels to close off the gaping hole where the main entrance doors had been blown off their hinges. The area around the building looked like a war zone, with scorch marks, two burned out cars, and a lot of debris.

Shaking her head, she entered the building through a side door and encountered the Mayor and Padraig speaking to five representatives of the Scottish national police. Although no bodies were present, Rebecca could see at least three large smears of blood on the floor. The building foyer was a shambles.

“Something happened here,” the lead policeman was saying. “You can’t bloody tell me you have things under control. Just look at this place.”

“Shit. We don’t have time for this,” Rebecca said, and took control of the man’s mind. Then she moved into the minds of the other four policemen and controlled them, too. The Mayor and Padraig turned to stare at her.

“What in the hell are you doing talking to them?” Rebecca asked. “You can’t explain something like this.”

“We have police and press all over the place, and at the shipyard, too,” Padraig said, his bearing stiff. He hadn’t said anything during the past three days, but he’d made it obvious enough that he resented a young girl looking over his shoulder.

“Bloody hell,” Rebecca said. “Call your O’Donnell commanders and tell them to implement damage control around the shipyard. Find some people with more than half a brain who can
think
and assign at least one to every press crew you can find. Block off all entrances to the battle zones and blur the minds of anyone who approaches. This is Containment 101. Don’t you people in Ireland prepare for this kind of crap?”

She held up her hand to forestall any answers and pulled out her phone to call Brenna.

“Sis? We have a major clusterfuck in Glasgow. I need at least one, preferably several, containment teams here ASAP.”

“What’s happening there?” Brenna answered. “We’re getting reports of a major battle.”

“Call me,” Rebecca said and hung up. Immediately, she heard Brenna’s voice in her head.

*What the hell’s going on?*

*We had at least two battles. We have Scottish police and press. The people on the ground here are bloody incompetents. They were trying to
talk
to the Goddamn police!*

She showed Brenna the scene in the town hall.

*I need people here who know how to deal with a public problem. I need them now, and I don’t care how they get here,*
Rebecca sent.

*I’ll call Nigel and Callie,*
Brenna sent and then broke the connection.

“Okay,” Rebecca said, turning to Padraig, “what’s our status?”

Red faced, he gathered himself and said, “We had an attack here that we fought off. There was a three-pronged breakout at the shipyard. Heavy casualties. Hugh’s forces captured two ships and took them to sea. Hugh has several hundred men loose in the Glasgow area.”

“Wonderful,” Rebecca said. She gestured toward the police, still standing in the middle of the room and staring into space. “What are they doing here?”

“There was a police helicopter that witnessed the battle at the shipyard and reported it. These men showed up a few minutes ago wanting to know what’s going on,” the mayor said.

“Why are they here and not at the shipyard?” Rebecca asked.

“They showed up and some idiots let them into town,” Padraig said.

“Idiot is right. Find out who it was and ship them to Ireland. I wouldn’t bet that they weren’t working for Hugh.”

The looks on the Mayor’s and Padraig’s faces showed sudden shock.

Rebecca ran her hand through her hair and thought furiously.

“So, what’s our story? The town hall was hit with a meteor? An industrial accident at the yard? Alien invasion? I know there were containment plans included with this battle plan. Haul them out and let’s figure out what we’re going to plant in these guy’s minds.”

Fifteen minutes later, Rebecca received a spear thought from Brenna.

*
Visualize a landing spot for me.*

*What? You can’t come here. It’s a Goddamn war zone.*

*I’m not staying long. I need to bring you some help.*

Rebecca looked around and then sent the image of a large clear space in a nearby hallway. Almost immediately, Brenna appeared holding Collin with one hand and a slender woman in a Protector uniform with the other. Rebecca recognized Shia MacDonald, one of the Clan’s strongest distance communicators.

Brenna looked around. “This is a mess,” she said.

Then she noticed the Scottish police. “Collin, what are we going to do with them?”

“We’ve been discussing that,” Rebecca said. “I don’t know how to explain this.”

“Don’t try,” Collin said. “When you have a disaster this big, go for the big lie. Implant in their minds that nothing happened here. They came out, found everything normal, had tea with the mayor, talked about football, and went home again.”

“What about the press and the helicopters?” Rebecca asked.

“Same thing. Wipe out everything everyone saw.” He looked at the mayor. “Have your people at the news organizations and the police stations crash all the computer systems, wipe out everyone’s memories of this morning, wipe all the recordings. Don’t worry about inconsistencies or lost time.”

“And the helicopters?” Rebecca prompted.

“How many distance communicators do you have?” Collin asked Padraig.

“About fifteen or sixteen,” the operations commander answered.

“Set them up in shifts around the clock,” Collin said. “If any helicopters or small planes fly over, take over the pilots’ and passengers’ minds, and send them into the bay.”

“Collin, they’re innocents!” Brenna protested.

“No, they’re threats,” he said, his face hard. “Treat them like enemy combatants. They could destroy us all. The last thing we need is global attention to a telepathic war.”

He looked at Shia. “Do you have any problem with that?”

She shook her head, her face totally expressionless. “No. I was in Ecuador. I doubt anything we do here will match that horror.”

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll do our damnedest to avoid that.”

Collin pulled Brenna to him and kissed her, then said, “Get out of here. Tell Nigel to get me those containment teams and to monitor everything coming out of this area.”

“Okay,” Brenna said. “Padraig, do we know if Hugh is still in the shipyard? Some communications we monitored indicated that he may be on one of those ships they stole.”

“We don’t know,” Padraig said. “We know he was still in the yard yesterday.”

Brenna nodded and disappeared.

~~~

Chapter 7

I learned long ago, never to wrestle with a pig. You get dirty, and besides, the pig likes it. - George Bernard Shaw

Collin immediately took charge. After assessing the situation, he called Shia to him and had her link him to Brenna.

*I need about half a dozen of your Druids,*
he told her.

*I’ll talk to Morrighan. What do you need Druids for?*

*I can’t believe we allowed the shipyard to maintain electrical power. I want to cut it all off. And never put Padraig in charge of a major operation again. The man is a good soldier, but he lacks any kind of imagination.*

Of all electrokinetics, the Druids were the most adept. Their ability to detect and manipulate electricity went far beyond that of any other telepaths.

*Aren’t we closing the barn door a little bit late?*
Brenna asked.

*Perhaps, but I doubt that all of their electrokinetics broke out last night. Most, if not all, of the welders and electricians employed at the shipyard are electrokinetics. Besides, if we want a siege to be successful, we cut off all of their resources. No lights, no refrigeration, no electricity to draw on as a weapon. I’ve already given orders to cut off their fresh water.*

*Gotcha,*
Brenna sent.
*I’ll get you some Druids. Anything else?*

*Magnetokinetics, cryokinetics. People who are strong in Empathic Projection. Hugh was very creative in putting the force together that stole the ships.*

*Sounds as though you need more than a half-dozen Druids,*
Brenna sent.

*The more the merrier. You know as well as I do what a Druid can do.*

By that evening, Brenna had teleported twenty-five Druids to Glasgow.

~~~

“Hi, handsome,” a familiar voice said from the door to Collin’s office. He looked up and saw Irina standing there in a seductive pose with a sultry, come-hither look on her face.

“Well, hello,” he answered with a smile. “What are you doing in Glasgow?”

“I heard you were holding a succubi convention, and I came to chastise you for not inviting me.”

He chuckled. “I asked for Irish Druids to augment my forces here. I hadn’t thought of it as a party.”

She walked in and sat across the desk from him.

“I was bored in London, so I thought I’d come up here and see if you could use me. And if you don’t want my body, maybe you can use my talents.”

“Actually, I probably can.”

He spent the next half hour filling her in on the situation. Over the past three years, she had received extensive training in espionage and covert activities. When he finished, she leaned back in her chair, chewing her lip and staring off into space. After a few minutes, she turned her gaze back to him.

“You don’t know where the rebels who broke out of the shipyard are located?”

He shook his head. “There have been a few quick strikes against our forces, but for the most part, no, we don’t. We don’t think they’ve left the area. They’re out there, and if we move on the shipyard, they’ll be at our backs.”

“It would help if you could get someone inside,” Irina said. “Someone who might help to locate them.”

“Yes, it would,” he acknowledged. “Do you have an idea on how to do that?”

“I could get captured,” she said.

Of all the things she might have said, that was completely unexpected. “I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. What did you say?”

“You could send me out with one of your electric detection teams and let me get captured,” she said. “Send us to one of the hot spots, where those guerilla raids have taken place, and try to draw out some of Hugh’s forces. Let them capture me.” She smiled. “The chances of Irish Clansmen hurting a Druid are very low, and I can control a bunch of men better than anyone else could. And since Brenna and I are linked, she’d be able to track me, no matter where they might take me. With some luck, they’re going to be in contact with Hugh’s other forces, maybe even Hugh himself. You’d have a spy inside and they wouldn’t even know it.” She batted her eyes and pushed her chest out. “How could anyone see me as a threat?”

*
Rebecca,*
Collin sent, *
Can you come to my office? I have a succubus with a martyr complex pitching a plan to me that I’d like you to hear.*

*On my way. I thought she was in Tyrone.*
The exasperation in Rebecca’s mental voice was evident.

When Rebecca arrived, she greeted Irina and hugged her. Then she looked around and asked, “Where is she?”

“You’re holding her,” Collin said.

“Huh? When you said a succubus with a martyr complex, I thought you meant Brenna.”

“It’s obviously contagious,” Collin said. “Irina, could you please explain your hare-brained scheme to Rebecca?”

After explaining her plan again, Irina said, “I understand that it carries an element of risk, and the assumptions may be wishful thinking, but if it does work, it significantly hurts Hugh’s capabilities.”

“I thought you weren’t paying attention when Siobhan and I were trying to train you in covert operations tactics,” Rebecca said.

“I multitask,” Irina said with a wry grin. “Just because I’m reading a fashion magazine doesn’t mean I’m not listening.” She looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “On July 21st, two years ago, we discussed various methods of insertion for covert operatives. Among those methods were several variations on creating captive or hostage situations that are more advantageous to us than to the captors.”

She turned her attention back to Collin and Rebecca. “It just seems to make sense in this situation. They know all their own people. We’re not going to get anyone from O’Neill or O’Donnell inside that they trust.”

Rebecca stared at her, mouth agape.

“Do you know who trained Siobhan O’Conner in covert operations?” Collin asked.

Both women shook their heads.