The Winter War: Part Five

by bloodsword

Kennedy was a little red-faced by the time he reached the spot where Balt, Carlton and Annabeth were waiting. But it didn't stop him from coming to smart attention and snapping a parade-perfect salute to his brow, knuckles bloody from beating the man he had dangled from the window.

"You bellowed, colonel?" he said, his tone far more familiar than his crisp salute. Balt chuckled.

"That I did, sergeant major," he replied with a grin. "Time to stop bothering the girls and beating up their paying customers. I've got a job for you."

"Sir, yes, sir. 'Bout time, sir. Does that mean I'm unretired, colonel?"

"Not officially, Kennedy. Willoughby is still the MoD so the reason you were retired is still there. Regardless of that, I need you and your boys to do something for me that will save queen and country like you've done so many times before."

"Count me in, sir!" Kennedy barked, all signs of his earlier belligerence gone. "For Queen and Country! I'll have the lads rounded up in about three or four hours. Where are we mustering?"

"The West India Docks on the Isle of Dogs. Bring your jump gear and prep for hard travel."

"Right-o, sir. See you there!" Then the stout fellow was off running down the street, moving far faster than a man that size should be able to.

"I need to put some things together, too," Annabeth said rather perfunctorily, stuffing a broad rimmed hat onto her head.

"You're not seriously thinking of joining this venture, are you?" Carlton quickly asked with a frown.

"Oh no, you don't, Carlton!" Annabeth snapped, putting hands on hips. "You're not going to stop me from helping this time, either."

The outburst earned her a raised eyebrow from the spy master and a frown from Balt.

"I thought you said she uncovered Brown and leveraged Cruikshank into helping us," the big soldier asked, looking over at the Agency man.

"She did," Carlton began to reply before Balt interrupted him.

"Then I don't see the problem here, spymaster. We'll need all the able bodies we can find for this operation. And if one of them happens to wear petticoats and has long hair, then so be it!"

"Thank you, colonel," Annabeth said brightly, bobbing a quick curtsey. Then she too was off and running. "I'll be back shortly!"

Fortunately the young lady was as good as her word. It wasn't five minutes before she returned with a good sized duffel of her own, slung over her shoulder along with a couple of bandoleers of ammunition, and a travel kit. Having already hailed a taxi by this point, Balt shooed them all inside and together they made the crosstown trip back towards the Thames and the great dockyards there that were responsible for handling goods from all over the Empire that couldn't travel by dirigible.

Carlton took one last doubtful look at Annabeth sitting across from him and beside Balt before looking at the big soldier.

"So, clarify something for me, colonel," he began. "You've gathered weapons and supplies, dirigibles, and soldiers from a disgraced regiment. I know you intend to strike von Brandenburg's fleet before he can cross the Channel and attack England, but I still haven't reasoned out how, exactly. Care to indulge me?"

Balt smiled.

"The key are those soldiers from that disgraced regiment," he replied."About five years ago, Brigadier General Robert Naismith came up with the idea of dropping soldiers from dirigibles via parachute onto the battlefield. Then Minister of Defense, Lord Ian Cowley liked the idea so much, that he commissioned a new regiment."

"Ah yes, I remember. Her Majesty's Pathfinders Regiment."

"That'd be the one. They received limited service during the defense of France, but were highly successful each time they were deployed." Balt paused to frown. "Unfortunately Lord Cowley was killed during an inspection tour of our troops deployed in France. Then a deputy minister of the Colonies, Willoughby trumped up a mock trial to accuse the Pathfinders of a defensive lapse that allowed Prussian assets to assassinate Lord Cowley."

"A trial that he used to springboard himself into the recently vacated post," Carlton said musingly.

"After which he promptly disbanded the regiment," Balt finished for him. "Wouldn't want to have the Pathfinders available in case Frederick and his attack dog, von Brandenburg, got jumpy. It would force him out of his appeasement stance to something more appropriately hawkish."

"And how do you propose to use Pathfinders against von Brandenburg's flying tanks?"

Balt became thoughtful.

"That part didn't come to me until I actually learned that they flew," he confessed. "But it still made sense. What better to attack a flying weapons platform than a parajumper? I drop the Pathfinders onto the tanks and they either capture them like a boarding party, or destroy them like a raiding party. I just need Kate and her analysis to tell me where, exactly, I need to hit them!"

With a plan in hand, and things in motion, events unfolded quickly after. The trio was met by Agency operatives at the Isle of Dogs, requested earlier by Carlton. Who then sent them scampering into the city with several objectives, including letting Kate and Sully know where they were.

Kate arrived shortly afterwards, analysis in hand.

"Here," she indicated as they looked at the drawing she had made of the massive flying tank, spread over a makeshift table they had pulled together from crates. She tapped several marks she had made on the drawing.

"The tank is basically an armored dirigible, with a gas bladder in the center to keep it in the air. Maneuvering is via these steam-powered rotors here, here and here, the steam engine is here, water and steam chambers here." Kate paused to give us a quick look. "I must admit, whoever designed this thing, knew their business." She waved a hand over the drawing. "Armored against bullets and harpoons both, quick and maneuverable with those rotors and wings working concert, and with a spout to pour greek fire over any target it comes close to,"

The brown haired tinker pulled out a second drawing, and Balt recognized the image that Andjela had made.

"Thankfully we have a closer look at that greek fire mechanism, thanks to the Leopolds, Sergeant Major Smith, and little Andjela, since it was that part of the dragon that the Colonel was manufacturing for von Brandenburg." She pointed to the back end of the device. "You hit it here with enough force and it'll release both the pressure in the tank, and the burning naphtha both, resulting in an explosion that'll rip the whole thing apart!"

"Sounds like we've got our plan of attack!" Balt said with a grim smile of satisfaction. He looked over at Kennedy, who had joined them. "Assemble your Pathfinders and get them prepared to assault the greek fire mechanisms on these dragons. As soon as Gaspe arrives with the flat deck, we're flying!"

And fly they did; it was shortly before evening that saw the flat deck and four escorts appear out of the mists, as they came down the Thames. With two large dirigibles side by side to support a broad wooden deck, and a third for steering and support beneath, the flat deck was a perfect launching pad for the Pathfinders.

Balt's makeshift company quickly boarded and back down the river they went as night fell, staying low to avoid catching the eye of any possible Prussian agents stationed along the river and on the coast. Then they were past the Thames estuary and out over the Channel itself.

"The latest out of the Ministry of Defense is that Willoughby has, indeed, decided to stall," Carlton revealed as he stepped into the flat deck's piloting cabin, folding up the coded message he had just received by messenger pigeon and tucking it into a pocket as he did. "And von Brandenburg's dragons have been spotted over eastern France."

"They've moving even faster than we thought," Balt said with a frown. "They'll be here in hours instead of days. We need to get into position now!" He turned to the piloting crew. "Captain, take us up. Climb to two thousand feet."

"That is close to my ceiling of operation, monsieur," the captain returned. "Are you sure you want to go that high?"

"Aye," Balt confirmed. "We need to get above them. Kate says they can't fly higher than 1500 feet because of all that armor."

"Good call on climbing," Annabeth said as she stepped back into the cabin from where she had been keeping watch on the scout rail with Kennedy. "Cor just spotted several shapes moving through the dark about two or three miles out and closing. We got out of their way just in time."

"That'll be our target," Balt indicated. "Captain, go to running dark. Annabeth, get Kennedy and the Pathfinders ready. As fast as those dragons are, we're only going to get one shot at surprising them. So let's get to it!"

The flat deck and its escorts, now all running with their lights off, lifted higher into the sky even as Kennedy and the Pathfinders gathered on the top deck.

"Mind your guns and harpoons, now," the flat deck's captain urged through speaking tubes, speaking English for the benefit of his passengers. "Don't fire until I give the signal."

"Sneaking up on these blokes doesn't seem logical," Annabeth said, having returned now that the Pathfinders were ready. She looked out a darkened window as their small fleet eased forward. "Won't they hear us?"

"Over the sounds of their own engines?" Carlton retorted. "Unlikely. Besides, being above them will mute the sound of our engines somewhat."

Then, standing at the nearest window and watching through a spyglass, Balt turned and shushed them. Looking over at the captain, he held up five fingers before dropping one, then another, and another. As soon as he had a closed fist, the captain was leaning in to the speaking tube going up to the deck.

"Launch!" Then dark shapes were dropping through the gloom past the windows: Pathfinders diving on target.

"Steady now," Balt tightly directed. "As soon as we see the first fireball, I need every cannon and harpoon firing."

"Oui, monsieur," the captain replied, staring hard out the forward window.

The minutes following stretched into what felt like hours. Then, without warning, there was a flare of reddish light as something below violently erupted.

"Target that explosion and fire!" the captain barked and, with hisses of steam-propelled discharge, harpoons on the top deck, and the scout deck opened fire. They were quickly followed by the rattle of gatling guns and the 'boom' of small cannons.

"Keep them off their decks, mes amis," the captain growled through the tube. "Don't let them fight the fire."

"The others are starting to climb towards us," Balt reported, having returning to the window with his spy glass. Then he was unconsciously hunching his shoulders as small arms fire began rattling against the flat deck's armor.

The big man was about to turn and reach for a rifle when three of the climbing dragons, massive, winged shapes barely seen in the growing gloom, exploded in quick succession. Two immediately flipped over to drop towards the churning Channel below, gutted by their rupturing naphtha tanks.

The third, however, slid sideways out of control, nearly colliding with one of the escort zeppelins before staggering back into a climb that angled right at them.

"Attention!" The captain barked sharply as he spun the wheel hard to the left. "All hands, brace for impact!"

A heartbeat later the dragon's wing clipped them, dragging across their armored side with a shudder.

"We have boarders!" a voice reported from the deck side tube. Then chaos erupted.

First came the shouting from the scout deck, swiftly followed by gunfire. Then Annabeth screamed in alarm as several windows exploded inwards, showering them with glass. Ducking in time to avoid getting a faceful of shards, Balt straightened, drawing his sidearm in the same motion.

That put him the perfect position to drop three Prussian boarders with single shots as they leapt through the windows. Then he was being carried to the ground by two more coming in through the window beside him.

One got a sharp elbow the side of the head as they fell. Then Balt was twisting to put the other one beneath him, using his body weight to drive him hard into the deck. With that one pinned, his pistol snapped back up to drop the Prussian he had elbowed with a shot to the forehead. The last bullet went into the man he had pinned down.

"Clear our decks, captain," he ordered as he climbed to his feet. "We can't afford to lose any of our balloons to boarding axes."

"This, I know, monsieur," the captain said over his shoulder as he fought the wheel. Then, with another shudder that shook the big flat deck from one end to another, the wounded dragon pulled itself off her flank and began a spiralling descent to the waters below.

"We're free!" the captain cried. "All hands, secure the decks!"

By this time the sky was filled with exploding dragons, Kennedy and his men moving quickly and efficiently despite the dark and the trained crew of the enemy craft. Those that had avoided the Pathfinders' deadly assault were now turning back and making hard for the French coast, reduced to a fifth of their original number. The attack was over before it had even begun.

Annabeth, rifle in hand, fired a couple of shots through a window at a dragon that was dropping by them, nearly engulfed in flames, before she leaned back in, a broad smile on her face.

"They're running!" she cried.

"It would appear that you've won," Carlton said, looking at the pistol he was holding before slipping it into a hidden holster, two boarders dead at his feet.

"So it would," Balt agreed, reloading his own firearm. "Von Brandenburg will think twice before trying a sneak attack like that again."

"Indeed. Pity you can't make the report yourself to Harker."

Balt smiled thinly. Facing Harker at this point would have him in irons for dereliction of duty, no matter the reason.

"I didn't want the glory anyway," he said, holstering his weapon. "For Queen and Country, old chap."

"For Queen and Country," Annabeth said, joining them with a smile up at the tall soldier.

Carlton looked at them both for a long moment, his expression carefully blank. Then, finally, he smiled.

"For Queen and Country," he said.

"Good show, Carlton!" Balt said with a grin, slapping the smaller man on the shoulder. "Another story to tuck into the Agency's secret annals, eh? At least we now have a way to fight back against von Brandenburg's dragons. Let's hope we don't have to use it again! In the meantime, I need to get back to Gibraltar. But not before we fish some tired parajumpers out of the Channel!" He looked over at the flat deck's captain.

"Captain, take us down. Let's retrieve our brave Pathfinders!" 

Leverage: Part Three

by bloodsword

It was nearly a full 45 minutes later by the time Annabeth had made her way down to Leicester Square, where, according to posters nailed to every available posting board and wooden post, the animatronic circus was playing. As she stepped off the street car at the New Coventry Street stop, she could hear the circus' steam-powered calliope playing from inside the square. That, and the booming voice of the circus' barker:

"Ladies and gentleman, step right up and behold, the most amazing animatronic creatures ever created! From the steam-powered swan to the gear-filled gorilla, this is truly a sight to see! You don't want to miss it!"

'No, I don't," Annabeth ruefully thought before looking up at the nearby clock tower. 'I love animatronics. But I'm already late. Cruikshank is already in there, somewhere, getting ready to make the drop with the plans. If I don't hurry, ..."

That thought alone was enough to jolt her into motion, adrenaline and anxiety sending hot and cold flashes through her body even as they flooded her palms with nervous perspiration. With the heels of her boots clicking sharply against the paving stones making up the pathway leading into the circus, Annabeth made her way as quickly as she could inside, her eyes peeled for the shorter Cruikshank.

According to the massive Sully, there was a good chance that Cruikshank would be looking for Agency operatives, men sent by Carlton in a bid to stop him. The grim young woman only hoped he wouldn't be looking for a rather determined young lady of the night with a pistol strapped to her waist and a mystery weapon in a case.

Sadly she had managed only a handful of steps into the square proper, putting the circus on her left, when a low voice addressed her from a small stand of trees close to the entrance.

"Are you sure you want to go charging in like that?" the voice asked in the low, smooth timbre of an educated man.

Fighting the impulse to go for her pistol, Annabeth slowed just enough to throw a careful look over her shoulder. That look found a lean, dangerous-looking fellow in a long, dark coat with his back against the nearest tree, a rolled up magazine in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other.

Hold on a moment; an unlit cigarette? Like the one Sully had? Seeing that, Annabeth decided to play a hunch. Pulling up, she turned and faced the man.

"What concern is it of yours?" she asked tautly, hands on hips. "Did Kate send you too?"

The lean man chuckled.

"No, but I think she knew I'd be here," he replied. "Usually I work with Red, However she's a little busy with a luncheon party and a certain traitorous major."

Annabeth's eyes narrowed at that. Wasn't Red the assassin that Brown and Cruikshank were so afraid of? Then she risked a quick look to either side to see if anybody was nearby that could've heard the man dropping names. To which the man laughed again, a low, menacing sound.

"Oh, you needn't worry about Cruikshank's lookouts overhearing us," he said almost conversationally, unrolling the magazine to idly flip it open. In doing so, Annabeth caught sight of the cover, a lurid and brightly colored thing showing a woman narrowly escaping the jaws of a massive beast under the title 'Fray'. "I took care of them almost as soon as they arrived here."

"And Cruikshank?" she asked, looking back at the man's face.

"Oh, he's still here, wandering around, looking for Geppetto. Coincidentally so am I. I was rather hoping the turncoat would do all the looking for me." He paused to look away from his magazine and at the case in Annabeth's hand. "But I see our little Kate has something else in mind for him. Something to leverage him into doing something a bit more productive for Queen and Country, I wager."

Annabeth blinked a couple of times then looked down at the case.

"To be truthful, I haven't the foggiest what's in this case," she confessed. "Only that Sully said I would recognize it, tinker to tinker."

That made the man push away from the tree, a look of interest appearing on his face as he looked at her with new eyes.

"You're a tinker?" he asked, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Well, daughter of a tinker. I was sold to pay off debts."

"Ah. A bit of a bastard then, your father," the man bluntly observed and Annabeth found herself nodding in agreement even though she didn't know this bloke from Adam. "When was that?"

"When was what?"

"When were you sold? Last year? Ten years ago? When?"

"About six years ago, on my fifteenth birthday," she revealed. The man immediately nodded in satisfaction.

"Old enough to have worked a bit in your father's shop, then."

"I suppose. When he let me."

"Then our little Katie was right." He gestured to the case. "You'll know enough to work whatever she gave you." Then he was pausing to look into the square. "A good thing; there's our target now."

Following the man's eyes, Annabeth looked into the square. And quickly found her eyes falling on Cruikshank's unmistakable figure. Even as she spotted him, he was looking this way and that, a look of concern on his lean face.

"I'd say he hasn't found Geppetto, judging by that look," the man said conversationally. "He looks a tad worried."

"Brown said von Brandenburg would have them both killed, if he didn't deliver the plans," Annabeth said without taking her eyes off the hunting Cruikshank.

The man waggled his colorful magazine.

"My intelligence brief out of the East confirms that," he said. "Von Brandenburg is as ruthless as he is powerful. Frankly I'm confused as to why he isn't running Prussia instead of Frederick." Then he was tucking his magazine into a pocket inside his long coat and slipping his unlit cigarette back into his mouth.

"Move to the back of the tent where the gear gorilla is being kept," he instructed before he began to move into the medium crowd that was swirling in front of them. "I'll herd Cruikshank towards you. Have that thing in the case ready when we get there." Then he was gone without so much as giving her his name.

Annabeth gazed after him only long enough to watch him disappear before turning and making straight for where the barker was announcing the gear gorilla was being kept. As much as she wanted to take a moment to digest everything that had just happened, she knew their opportunity to catch Cruikshank was rapidly disappearing with every moment the traitor didn't find this Geppetto bloke.

So around to the back of the tent she went. Then, when she was in position, she dropped to a knee and, after a slight hesitation, opened the case. And she immediately found herself smiling at what she saw inside.

It was a bomb. But this was no ordinary explosive. The device the mysterious Kate had built was nothing less than a clever device that could be hidden in a body and detonated remotely, using clockwork triggers and rudimentary electrics. Something that could be put into an unwilling enemy to force them to do what they want, or suffer the consequences. All that it needed was a tinker's deft touch to arm the clockwork trigger.

"Leverage, indeed," she said with a smile, picking up the electric remote trigger, a small device that easily fit in her pocket. Then she was reaching into the device's familiar clockwork mechanisms and deftly activating it, like she had a hundred times as a ten year old in her father's shop.

"You ready?" the mystery man growled as he and Cruikshank appeared, the traitor's hands held behind his back as he was pushed unwillingly into the shadows behind the tent.

"Using whores to do your dirty work now, Jack?" Cruikshank spat as he caught sight of Annabeth kneeling beside the case, a flicker of recognition going across his narrow features.

"That's just her cover, Cruikshank," Jack replied in a rather conversational tone as he kicked the man in the back of the knees to force him to the ground. A kick that had a metallic thump to it when he struck the left leg. "In reality she's an Agency operative that knows how to handle, ..." He paused long enough to look at the device in the case. "Bombs, with clockwork triggers."

"Ones that go inside a person's body," Annabeth added, making Jack grin and Cruikshank gasp.

"You wouldn't," he stammered.

"Men put things into mine all the time," Annabeth said nonchalantly. "I reckon it's about time I return the favor. Starting with you." She looked up at an amused Jack. "You're going to have to hold him down. This won't feel very pleasant."

"That, Miss Quinn, would be my pleasure!"

It was something in the evening that Annabeth finally returned to what she had come to know as her home. Slipping into her room, she unbelted her weapon and tossed it, and the bandoleer of ammo onto the bed. Then she joined them, sitting on the edge as she mulled over what had just happened.

As it turned out, there was a space small enough in Cruikshank's clockwork leg to fit the bomb, slipped inside like only a tinker could. Along with the warning that any step out of line, literally, and his parts would be painting nearby buildings.

It was more than enough of a threat to make the man give up all of his London contacts, along with the drop points they used. That information alone made it an intelligence coup for the Agency in their fight against domestic threats.

Annabeth smiled as she considered that. Not bad for her first day as an operative, not bad at all! 'I think I'm going to like this spy stuff after all,' she thought. "Carlton, eat your heart out, fella!' Then she was leaning over to blow out her lamp