World War IV: Empires Read online

  Everyone on deck cheered and roared, but all Delun could hear was the sound of the Mars fleet erupting into flames and ash.

  ***

  Dean marched along the Alaskan coast quickly, his feet tripping over rocks and his ankles buckling from sinking into the snow-like shore. The ships were already being loaded, and Dean hadn’t changed out of the clothes from the night before, with blood and black ash still staining most of his attire. Dark circles formed under his eyes as he fought a weight crushing his shoulders, trying to bury him in the Alaskan tundra.

  Bits of crumpled paper protruded from the cracks of Dean’s fingers as the sheet lay balled up in his fist. He hadn’t let go of the letter telling him of Kemena’s capture since the moment he’d read it. He glanced back out at the ships, his men toiling to make sail, one of his warships already giving chase to the speedy Chinese vessel that carried his wife and unborn child. They need to move faster. I’ll start whipping anyone who slacks. This type of setback cannot be allowed.

  “Dean.”

  He turned, barely glancing over his shoulder, as Jason trotted up behind him, his hair and coat wet from the bits of ice frozen in the locks of his hair. “We should have set sail hours ago.” The words spit from Dean’s mouth like venom. He walked to the edge of the shore, where he caught a faint reflection of his face. He recoiled at the ragged man staring back at him, not recognizing the lifeless eyes and aged face. He shook it off, veering toward Jason. “Has the ammunition been loaded?”

  Jason sighed. “Our men are still scouring the fields for the dead, finding what Russian weapons are still functional to add to the armory. And we’re still burying our dead.”

  “Burn them.” While Dean’s words prompted the use of fire, there was no warmth in them. “The dead care nothing of war.”

  “Dean, they have families back home. People who will want to know that they were taken care of prop—”

  “Our people will believe what I order them to believe. Now, I said burn them!” Spit flew from Dean’s mouth, and the cold air froze it before it hit the ground.

  Jason reared on his brother, wrenching Dean’s collar. “And is that the command of Governor Mars, or Emperor Mars? You think the men will continue to follow you while you berate them whenever they do something that displeases you? Soldiers follow men, not twisted lunatics willing to kill anything in their path.” He shoved Dean hard, nearly dropping his brother into the cold waters of the Pacific.

  “This is war.”

  “I know it’s war!” Jason’s voice shattered the air, rattling the very bones of the winter hell that circled them. “Our men know this is war! Our people know this is war! But winning this war does nothing if we lose everything! You’re twisted, brother.” The last words deflated Jason, the brief glimpse of rage subsiding.

  The first thought that came to Dean’s mind was thrusting his own sword through Jason’s beating heart, and the knowledge of that atrocity collapsed him to his knees. He clutched his chest and leaned over, his forehead touching the frosty ground. All of the grief and pain and doubt and greed and lust that had bedded themselves in his soul were uprooted and thrust into the open with every teardrop that stained the earth. “I’ve lost myself, Jason.”

  Jason bent to his knee and reached under his own collar and into his shirt. He removed the four silver sphered pendulums that belonged to their family. He took two of them off and placed them around Dean’s neck. “You are the third-youngest son of Luke Mars. Brother to three. Governor of the Northwest Region. Husband to Kemena Mars. And father of your unborn child.”

  Jason’s words shook loose the icy grip on Dean’s mind. His wife, his love, his child, all of it was sailing away from him into the clutches of a man who meant to kill him and his entire family. If Dean couldn’t pull himself together, then Delun would win.

  ***

  Jason stayed with Dean for as long as he could, but General Monaghan had need for at least one of his governors to prepare for the fight against the Chinese, so Jason left Dean on the shore, wrapped in furs and blankets so he wouldn’t freeze to death. He’d never seen his brother dip so high and low. The steady, levelheaded rock that he’d once known seemed to be eroding before his eyes.

  Monaghan gave Jason the rundown on their supplies, casualties, wounded, and number of able bodies still worthy of war. The only positives that Jason managed to find were the fact that they to salvaged a lot of ammunition and weapons from the Russians and that their entire navy was still intact, which hadn’t been at risk in the battle with Rodion anyway.

  The Alaskan earth consumed twenty thousand men that day, a quarter of which were their own. And the wilderness did not take their burial willingly. Shovels snapped and bent as soldiers dug graves in the hard, frozen tundra of the north. It would have been preferable to pack the bodies with ice then send them south for their families to bury them on their own land, but there was no time, and Jason couldn’t sacrifice the ships. With a portion of their fleet still aiding Gabriela to keep order in Brazil, he would need every vessel against Delun’s armada that waited for them in the south Pacific.

  The idea of the naval fight nearly caused Jason to relinquish his breakfast. Never in his life did he wish for Lance to be alive more than right now. While his brother had never had a penchant for diplomacy, out of the four of them he was the most gifted in battle. It was because of Lance they had managed to defeat the clansmen in the Wasteland Wars and turned the tide in the Island Wars against the Chinese. The strategic naval plans Monaghan left for Jason to look over might as well have been a foreign language.

  Jason leaned back in his chair, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes, and closed the collar around his neck, the biting cold not agreeing with him. It suddenly had him longing for the sweltering-hot jungles of Brazil along with the woman he’d shared a bed with one night. His mind had often drifted to Gabriela. The two had kept up correspondence since his departure, both parties relaying what strides they’d made in regard to their respective battles but neither mentioning anything beyond their professional agreements, despite his desire to speak his mind.

  Jason was so lost in thought he didn’t notice the messenger until he spoke up. “Governor?”

  When Jason raised his head, he was surprised to see his nephew, dressed in uniform, his face dirty and his hair ragged. “Kit, what are you doing in here?”

  The boy extended an envelope, which Jason placed on the table. He kept a proper military stance that befitted a soldier of his rank when in the presence of his superiors. “Sir, with the number of casualties, the artillery unit has been aiding in certain administrative duties.” Kit kept his chin up and his eyes focused on the wall in front of him.

  Jason admired the formalities, but at that moment he wanted to speak with his nephew, not the artillery grunt delivering his mail. “At ease, soldier. Have a seat.”

  Kit obeyed and sat across from Jason, his hands folded in his lap and his back as rigid as a board. “Is there something else you need, Governor?”

  “You can drop the formalities, Kit. It’s just us.” Jason could tell his response flustered Kit. He knew how much teasing the boy had endured. Everyone knew who his father was, and as the nephew of his peer’s military superiors he was bound to receive a good ribbing.

  “Uncle Jason, I should really get back to the communication post.” While the rigidness in Kit’s voice had disappeared, the posture remained unchanged. “We lost more than we should have against the Russians.”

  “Been studying strategic warfare, have you?” The question triggered an involuntary blush from Kit’s cheeks. As a soldier, he knew he’d spoken out of turn. “What did we do wrong against the Russians? And that’s an order.”

  “Governor Dean led the men into a trap, willingly. While the soldiers followed, I can tell you there was dissent among a lot of us.”

  “Dissent is common among soldiers, but it can’t play into a leader’s strategy for war.”

  “It can when the soldiers are right. Uncle D
ean knew the Russians had no supply lines and no aid from their allies. We should have flanked them, made them come to us.”

  “But with the Chinese growing stronger in the Pacific, time was a resource we couldn’t afford.” The countermove left Kit quiet for a moment, the boy racking his brain for a response. Jason was glad to see him thinking before he spoke.

  “The Chinese asset is their navy. The pursuit of Rodion in the first place was foolish. We should have left the bulk of the army here, or whatever number of soldiers could have handled what was left of Rodion’s men, and then sailed our entire armada to engage the Chinese. Yes, we would have been split, but the proportion would have been in our favor, and the move would also put the Chinese on their heels, expecting us to wait until we had the full strength of our army behind us.”

  Jason nodded his head. “An interesting gambit. But”—Jason put his finger in the air, and Kit’s smirk vanished—“what if someone killed Sam? Murdered him in cold blood?”

  The color faded from Kit’s cheeks, and he shook his head. “I… I’d find the person who did it, then kill them.” Kit clenched his fists murderously.

  “And what if the person who murdered your brother had an entire army behind him, and you knew they were coming after your family?”

  Kit remained silent, the complexities of the new issue too vast for him to comprehend. Jason stood up and walked over to his nephew, cloaked in a solemn quiet. “Dean chose this route not because it was the most strategic but because it was what needed to be done. There is evil in this world, true evil, Kit. And it will not stop until someone has ripped its black heart from its body. It’s a tough decision, but sometimes it’s one that you have to make.” Jason leaned closer. “No matter how many of your soldiers think it’s a bad idea.”

  “I’m sorry, Uncle.” Kit lowered his head. “I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.”

  Jason clapped Kit on the back. “I asked you to speak freely. No apologies are necessary.” He grabbed the strategic map that Monaghan had left for him to study, which contained all of their naval plans against Delun. “I’ve spent the past hour looking these over. What do you think of them?”

  Kit took his time examining the map. Jason watched the wheels turn in Kit’s head and the effort with which he held back a thought he would have previously let fly too soon. “We’ll be outnumbered in the north, in the heart of the Chinese coastal stronghold.” Kit guided his finger south, to the port of Brisbane, now under Chinese control. “If we’re going to wedge the Chinese, then a lot of that plan depends on the Australians, and they haven’t done well in keeping Delun out of their own hair. I think it’s a risk to put the lives of our men on the line when they depend on a crippled nation.”

  “Blunt but well thought.” The same concern plagued Jason’s mind. It had been Lance who always held the relationship with the Aussies. He knew his older brother had faith in them, but he was skeptical of whether their navy and soldiers could hold together an assault long enough to keep Delun busy in the south. If they couldn’t deliver, then Delun could overwhelm them, and if they lost too many ships, they wouldn’t be able to regroup.

  “The soldiers are talking about what happened to Aunt Kemena.” Kit blurted the words out unexpectedly, and the look on his face was regretful the moment he did. “Is Uncle Dean all right?”

  Jason wasn’t aware that the news of Kemena had spread that quickly, but while the seal was confidential, he expected it to leak eventually. “He’s taking it how a husband and regional governor should.” Jason rolled up the map and placed it in the corner. “You should head back to the communications post.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kit returned to his previous military stature and marched to the tent’s entrance but stopped just before stepping outside. “Uncle Jason, the soldiers may complain, but they’ll still follow you anywhere. And so will I.”

  “I know.” It was amazing how quickly a boy turned into a man after military service. While Kit still showed flashes of his age, most of the insecurities had been replaced with a hard callus, one that Jason remembered himself growing once he was enlisted. A mixture of pride and sadness filled him, knowing that once the transition was made, Kit’s childhood was lost. But since the boy had lost his father and mother, Jason suspected those memories had already faded.

  A coat landed with a heavy thud on the table, breaking Jason’s concentration. When he looked up, Dean stood there, still damp with ice and snow. “I’m not going to let her die, Jason.”

  Jason unfurled the map he’d rolled up and set it on the table, but Dean motioned it away. “Prefer the Cliffs Notes version, then?” It didn’t take long to have Dean up to speed, and after it was said and done, Jason couldn’t help but chuckle when Dean uttered the same words Kit had spoken just moments ago. “Must run in the family.”

  “He’ll be keeping her in the heart of his camp, at the Philippines port. We’ll have to cut through hundreds of ships before I even get a glimpse of her face.” Dean circled the port on the map gently, as if Kemena could feel his touch.

  “The ships will be ready by day’s end.”

  “Good.”

  Jason hesitated for a moment, biting his tongue. He wasn’t sure how Dean would respond, but he had to bring it up. “We’re going to win this, Dean. And when we do...” Jason paused, looking down at his feet. “When we do, it has to be you that makes it out alive.”

  Dean offered the concerned looked Jason’s older brothers had always given; it was a look Jason was glad to see returned. “We’re both going to make it out of this alive.”

  Chapter 12

  Delun stood at the rocky tip of the harbor, watching his fleet disappear onto the horizon. He’d sent the bulk of his fleet north, where he knew the Mars brothers would try to penetrate, relying on their dying Australians in the south to do their part, but Delun wasn’t concerned with their efforts. Nearly half of the Aussie continent was his, and his soldiers were closing on Sydney. It was only a matter of time before the Australians fell.

  Once the North Americans were dispensed with, Delun would need to focus his attention on Brazil. With the Mars brothers backing the coup to overthrow Ruiz and his people, it would take time to weave Ruiz back into the fold. While his new relationship with Tobaygu promised to be fruitful, if Delun could retake Brazil’s resources, he would control nearly all of the trade across the globe, a pivotal move in securing his empire. The Mars brothers had taken care of Rodion, as he’d expected they would, but were fatigued from battle. The Russian had played his part well.

  “Emperor.” One of Delun’s stout generals presented him with a message. “She’s arrived and is waiting for you in your personal quarters as requested.”

  “Excellent.” Delun waited until his ships were nothing more than a few blips on the horizon then made his way to meet with Kemena Mars. He’d learned as much as he could about the Mars family and the strong women that kept it growing.

  Delun stepped inside, finding Kemena already seated at a table lined with food, her plate empty, her water untouched. “I thought you would be hungry after your trip, Doctor Mars.”

  Kemena remained silent. Delun joined her at the table, helping himself to a few chicken legs, rice, buttered green beans, and chilled mango surrounded by a bucket of ice. “I hope the trip over was comfortable.”

  “Cells and chains rarely are.” Kemena kept her words short and cold, her eyes drilling through Delun.

  Delun dropped his fork, exuding nothing but expressions of concern and apology. “I gave strict instructions on your well-being, Doctor Mars. You point out any of my men that made your journey woeful, and I will see that they are punished accordingly. I do not stand for the torture of women.” Delun glanced down at Kemena’s stomach. “Or children.”

  Kemena wrapped her arms around the small swell of her belly, her body tensing. “Tell me, what do you think will happen once my husband arrives?”

  Delun picked his fork back up, and steam rose from the chicken on his plate as he tore
the skin from its meat. Some of the grease dribbled down into the whiskers on his chin, which he quickly wiped away. “I apologize for the savagery with dinner. I haven’t had much time to eat.” He washed it down with a swig of wine and cleared his throat. “Your husband will sail here in a blind rage, and he will risk everything to save you and the unborn seed that rests in your womb. But he will not survive, Doctor Mars, if he chooses to continue this futile war. I have more ships, better weapons, and most importantly: you.”

  Kemena lifted the table on her end and sent the plates, silverware, food, and wine to the ground, ruined in the sand, Delun’s dinner among the casualties.

  Delun remained in his chair and picked up the cloth from his lap, dabbing the corners of his mouth. When he rose, he walked to Kemena slowly, his eyes never breaking contact with hers. “I have been hungry my entire life, Doctor.” He stopped only inches away from his nose touching hers. She smelled of the soaps and oils he’d let her shower in prior to their meeting. He reached up and grazed the side of her cheek with his fingertips, Kemena recoiling at the touch. “You truly are beautiful. And with a mind as experienced as yours, it makes for a rare woman in this day and age. I must say I found myself jealous that you’ve wasted your talents with the governor.”

  “I waste nothing.” Kemena took a step back and with it the intoxicating scent.

  “I think you’ll find you’re wrong about that. Guards!” Two soldiers immediately entered. “Take the Doctor to her quarters. See that all her requests are tended to.”

  “All but my freedom.”

  “Freedom is an illusion of the mind, Doctor. You are no freer than I am. We are all slaves to some deity larger than ourselves.” Delun snapped his fingers, and the guards seized Kemena by the arms, dragging her out of the tent. He looked down to the spoiled food and laughed. The things men waste for a woman.