“I’m ready to bring Number Three online, mate,” Nathan said.
“Go ahead,” Quincy Hartsell replied. “We’re ready.” The Templar knelt nearby at a control box that had come with the projectors. The control box was about the size of a slim briefcase but was crowded with electronics.
Nathan fired an electric current through his armor that activated the field projector. Two amber lights winked to life, one after the other, then turned green.
“We’re go here,” Nathan said.
“And go here,” Quincy said.
“Four is set,” Danielle called from across the tunnel.
“Bringing Four online.” Quincy tapped on the keyboard. “Reading Four. Now I’m going to initiate the recognition sequence.”
While he stood there, Simon cycled through the button cams they’d strung along the tube. The armor AI was set to warn him of the approach of anyone not scanned into the Templar security, but maintaining constant visual watch over the area was old habit.
Debris filled the dark tube. The last passenger trains had traveled the tracks over four years ago when the Hellgate opened. Wrecked train cars piled like child’s toys less than a mile from their present position. Judging from all the skeletons in the cars, few must have survived the wrecks back then.
A low-pitched hum filled the tunnel. Gradually, it grew louder and more piercing. Simon’s suit dampened the audio, then the noise went away. The green lights on the projectors grew brighter.
“Phasing harmonics,” Quincy announced.
A few seconds later, purple-tinted haze spread across the distance between the poles they’d set up. Then it cleared and gradually disappeared altogether.
“Is it working?” Nathan asked.
“Step into it, mate,” Quincy suggested. “If it zaps you, I’ll know I’ve got it calibrated wrong.”
“I don’t think so.”
From the other side of the tunnel, Danielle walked into the cube of light. Her armor sparkled just for a moment, but nothing happened after that.
“Well, we know that it won’t harm humans,” she said. The nervousness in her voice was barely detectable.
“Doesn’t mean it’s unfriendly to demons,” Nathan said.
“There’s only one way to discover that.” Simon pounded the stake again and knocked it into the ground so far that none of it projected. The stake was built thick at the piercing end, then thin at the rear of the shaft so the projector was protected by the profile. He reached into the nearby duffel bag and brought out a canister of foamcrete.
When he sprayed the contents into the hole and they interacted with the air, a dirty gray silicon plug formed and filled the hole. After a moment, when the camouflage particles sparked into life to change the gray-white color, it was almost indistinguishable from the original floor. He tossed the can to Danielle, and she did the same thing to the stake she’d knocked into the ground.
Once all four stakes were properly buried, Simon said, “Recalibrate the field again. Make sure we didn’t tear anything up.”
Quincy went through the process again. The purple cube came to life once more, then faded. Again Danielle stepped through the field and into the cube without a problem.
“I have to admit, mate,” Nathan said quietly, “it doesn’t give me much confidence watching her walk through it so easily. Could be the demons will walk through it just like it was a warm spring rain.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Simon reached over his shoulder and took out his sword and shield. He turned and started down the long tube tunnel.
After Simon and the others had gone, Leah eased out of the shadows of the tube station’s waiting area. Finding the Templar hadn’t been hard. Almost no humans headed into London these days, and the tracks left by the armored suits had been simple to follow. The hardest part was to follow without being seen.
On the tube platform, she gazed at the area where the Templar had worked. She’d gathered from their conversation that the stakes and electronics they’d driven into the ground were some kind of demon deterrent, but she had no idea what it was.
Kneeling, she opened the command console that one of the Templar had used. She captured images with the ocular over her right eye and stored them on the gel-drive hidden in the subcutaneous tissue of her left thigh. As she worked, she told herself that the guilt she felt was misplaced. She had a duty to her organization. Those men and women had given their life’s blood to keep London safe for a long time before the Templar admitted they even existed, in the show of force at St. Paul’s.
Her comm-link chirped for attention.
Leah straightened as she answered.
“Black Orchid, this is Nightingale. Do you copy?”
“Black Orchid copies.” Nightingale was Lyra Darius. Leah had contacted the woman as soon as she’d left the Templar redoubt.
“Do you know what this device is that we’re looking at?”
“No.” Frustration chafed at Leah. “If I’d known, I would have told you earlier.” She took a deep breath. “Did you get anything from the audibles I captured?” She’d aimed a shotgun microphone concealed in a fingertip at the Templar in hopes of picking up conversation.
“We didn’t. Their helmets and suits didn’t broadcast any of their conversations. If you can, stay on-site there and see if you can get any more information.”
“I will. But that’s increasing the risk here.”
“I doubt that the young lord would do much to you even if he did find you out. I get the impression that he’s quite taken with you.”
Under the armored faceplate, Leah’s face reddened. “I think you’re reading more into it than what is there.”
“We’ll see. Have a care down there, Black Orchid. We want you to come back to us.”
“I will.” Leah closed the case and stood. She switched her view in her ocular through the visible light spectrum. For a
