Tattoos and Rail Guns Chapter 14: Walker's New Blades

A few hours later, Lellend's steam head was a little more steamier than usual. He hated dealing with Deezle the Dork. He knocked and the door opened. No servant was there. Unimpressed, he walked straight in. The elder demon was at his desk, working on some sort of drawing. “So, Lellend, how are you this afternoon?”

“Fine. Yourself?”

“Busy. But I always have time for you. How may I be of assistance?”

Lellend crossed to the desk. “I need some demons for a mission, and not the ones available to me here.”

Deezle the Defiler put down his charcoal. “Interesting. I assume you've decided it is time to begin the end game?”

“Yes.” Lellend looked at the drawing of some local mountains. “I've already sent out a chetan to distract them. The tattooed warrior may be stronger than we expected, and he has found powerful allies.” Lellend looked around the apartment. “The shade was not able to even truly worry the group he attacked. While I am fully aware that they are not the strongest of the breed, it should have lasted another minute at least.”

The horned demon turned to look fully at the other. “That's sort of impressive, actually.” He looked the other fully in the eyes. “I believe I can help.” He rose and walked over to his bookcase. He looked for a moment, and then pulled out a book. He returned to his desk and grabbed a slip of paper. He opened the book, smiled, and inserted the paper. He closed the book and handed it to Lellend. “That should help summon a trio of demons that should be able to take care of your problem.”

“Thank you.”

“It is the least of what I owe you. Now, I should warn you about the cost to summon them, but if you can bear the cost then they should be able to deal with your problem.”

“Oh? And what is this cost?”

“You will need to find a child of power and bind him or her to you. It's in the book.” He smiled. “Oh, and you'll need to find a small furry animal.”

Lellend's eyebrow went up. “I will keep that in mind.” He turned to leave. “So I guess that means that I am getting the snacks for the next week?”

The horned demon smiled wide enough to reveal some fangs. “If you wouldn't mind. Oh, and something decent for a change. It's obvious that you shop at the corner store.”

Lellend's skull exuded a bit more steam than usual. “Fine.” He left the apartment.

* * * * *

As the guys left the PX with several bags, Samuels caught up to the boys. “Did you get everything?”

Douglas grinned. “I think so. It took a little longer than planned thanks to a lieutenant’s girlfriend thinking her boyfriend’s rank mattered.”

Samuels smirked. “I hate dependas.”

Walker's phone chimed. Curious, he pulled out the phone and looked at the message. He smiled. “Okay, we need to make a detour.”

Samuels stopped the group. “Are you sure? We do have a few more weapons to clean before dinner.”

Walker's grin widened. “Definitely. This will be worth the trip.” He felt his cargo pocket; he felt the reassuring thickness of his wallet. “There's a falafel shop next to the stop.”

Samuels looked at Douglas. “Ever had a decent falafel?” The kid shook his head, puzzled. “Fine, we're going.”

Walker picked up the pace and the others struggled to catch up. After a few blocks of twists and turns the group finally reached an open garage. Inside was a forge and a muscular master sergeant. He looked at the group. “You didn't have to bring friends.”

“Sergeant Hiram Wicken, this is Douglas and Corporal Samuels. How's forging?”

He motioned for everyone to enter. “Fine.” He grabbed a case and a sheathed sword. “Those were some challenging specifications, but I may have enough metal for some testing knives.”

“Outstanding, sergeant!” Walker was almost on his tiptoes. “Can I see?”

“No.” The sergeant cocked his head. “I called you all the way here just to see if you were alive because I so miss your face.” He looked at Samuels with a raised eyebrow; Samuels grinned and shrugged. Wicken handed the case to Walker. “Check them out.”

Walked grabbed the case and opened it. Inside were four small knives, two of black metal, two much shinier. He inspected them, finding the handiwork expert if simple and the blades sharp. “These are excellent.”

Wicken handed him the sheathed sword. Walker quickly closed the case, handed it to Samuels, and grabbed the sword. He pulled out the sword just a few inches. While the design was unremarkable, the thickness and edge were not: It was a little thicker than normal with a black edge. The edge was sharp. Walker smiled. “This is so much better than I could have imagined.”

“Well, the design was intriguing. And if your materiel specs are right, they should represent a major development.”

“Sweet.”

“When do you think you can test them?”

Walker tensed. “Are you sure?” He forced himself to calm down. “We go out two or three times a week. Maybe in the next day or two.”

Wicken patted the sword and then the case. “Then take them and let me know how they fare.”

Walker walked back to the barracks with his head in the clouds. Samuels pointed to a Turkish diner. But only temporarily; Walker had a reason to celebrate and now he just needed something to use the blades on.

* * * * *

Lieutenants Sawyer and Prowse were busy getting ready for the morning. They knew that there was a demon in the area, but had no idea what its exact capabilities were. At least they had some heavy firepower; they had a trio of Phoebus powered armor suits, as well as a relatively fresh Kronus suit for Lieutenant Prowse; unlike the dilapidated suit used at the test, these suits would be fully armed and ready to go. While the Kronus suit could destroy an office building by itself, each Phoebus suit was the equivalent of a human platoon, and its missile system was the epitome of fire-and-forget; once a target was sighted in the missile would go after it until it hit that target.

While Douglas and Kev would be used in the offense, they would be held back until needed; they would be mostly used if it attempted to escape. While they were both pretty powerful assets, and she had no doubt they had yet to truly tap into what either could do, Lieutenant Sawyer didn't want to fully explore those assets just yet, and especially not during a fight.

Rodriguez was also getting ready for the mission. He had shifted out the beagle for another rottweiler and was busy synchronizing the canine robot to his own gear. The rottweillers would be ready for whatever they were needed to, and he was busy installing drums; they would allow the rottweilers to sustain fire for a few solid minutes. Operating in tandem with a charge, most targets would be converted to a fine mist. While their sensory packages were not at the same level as the beagles, they should be more than sufficient to the task at hand.

He had debated bringing the other three, but their cleaning of weapons and vehicles was exactly what was needed. Even equipping Douglas would prove useful to the team as a whole, and giving the boys time to bond was hardly a bad idea; those bonds would make sure that they had each other's back and that would help protect them as much as thick armor and a good rifle. While he was unsure of Walker, Samuels had the makings of a fine sergeant down the road. He would need allies and this is where he started finding them. Walker's brain would be as good an asset as Douglas' power, so he would be encouraging that friendship as much as he could.

He spared himself a moment to smile. Ah, to be that young and stupid again. He charged back into the innards of the rottweiler; he didn't like the limited response from the canine's cybernetics and needed to figure out the issue. He wished he could use percussive maintenance on the canine; too bad hitting it with a wrench was more likely to damage its delicate machinery. He had until morning to figure it out at least, so that was something.

The three of them had a working plan: They would track it down, send in the rottweilers to confirm, and then hit it with the suits. The squad would then confirm the death. Sounded simple; they only hoped that it worked; plans had a nasty habit of going sideways in their actual application.

Hopefully, it wouldn't go that sideways. Too much.

* * * * *

The boys were doing their level best to destroy the inventory of The Falafel House. Between bites, Walker was looking at the blades. Samuels looked at how he was looking at the blades with a weird smile and had made it a point that he was sitting as far away as possible at the same table.

Douglas was devouring his shwarma pita. “Neat blades.”

Walker barely registered that he was being talked to. “Yeah.”

Douglas smiled. “So, what's so special about those? Those aren't the usual K-Bars.”

Walker looked down the cutting edge of one. “On my first mission, we found some raw iron. It hadn't been alloyed with anything. So I grabbed it, with Lieutenant Sawyer's permission, of course, telling her I had an idea I wanted to try. On another mission, we found a box of silver ingots. I made the same suggestion. I knew it would be hard to forge raw iron given it's some brittle stuff. So I found a sergeant who likes forging things and commissioned him to forge a pair of knives from each material. It took him a while to forge the blades due to the brittleness of the iron and softness of the silver, but he finally did it.”

Douglas' eyebrow went up. “Wait...raw iron. So those are cold iron knives?” He suddenly grew a lopsided grin and the pita was forgotten. “Those could be valuable weapons.”

Samuels forgot his own pita. “Could someone clue me in? You know how I hate to be out of the loop.”

Walker smiled. “According to old stories some demons have issues against cold iron, while others have a weakness to silver.” Walker looked straight at Samuels. “Betcha you know why I was working on my knife-fighting skills now, Corporal.”

A shiver went down Samuels' spine. “Great. And the sword?”

Walker put down the knife and grabbed the sword, unsheathing it a few inches. “See the black strip down the edge?” Samuels nodded. “The sword is based on the idea of a katana sandwich. See, a katana is actually seven different pieces of metal: The first is folded as many times as possible to create a sharp, but it's pretty brittle. So it's sandwiched between three other pieces for support. The other three pieces form the basis of the hilt.”

Samuels took a swig of beer. “So Wicken overcame the brittleness of the iron by surrounding it with a steel sheath.”

Walker smiled as he sheathed the sword. “Yep.”

Douglas returned to his pita. “So when do you test them?”

Walker looked at him. “As soon as we go back to the field. With Lieutenant Sawyer's permission, course.”

[The last chapter is here.]