Read Online Champions Battle for the Fate of the Future!: The Wild Finale of (Swords Versus Tanks Book 5) by M Harold Page - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: M Harold Page
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laughed. "How fickle is woman!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jasmine barely felt the bump as her tank smashed through a second gate. Twin engines roaring, tracks rattling and squealing on the wet cobbles, it continued its upwards spiral through the Holy Mount complex.
A column of well-armed White Brothers emerged from the rain, sodden surcoats plastered to breastplates, long spears on the shoulder.
As the tank overtook them, she switched on the loud hailer. "We've come to help."
The Archbishop's men bunched then split like a flock of sheep. Several tried to cross the tank’s path and vanished under the hull.
Jasmine winced. "Repeat. We have come to help."
More arrows pinged off the armour plating. Jasmine flinched back in her chair. None of them would be magical in this place. She returned to her vision port.
The monastic buildings formed an artificial canyon, blocking her view of the airship. How long would it take Maud to unleash the sorcery? "Faster."
The tank cornered and the tracks squealed, then the port turret banged into something. The driver brought them back on course then replied, " Fuck off, Field Marshal! "
Jasmine laughed. "Sorry. Just do your job."
The tracks crunched over a third gate. Just one more turn of the helter-skelter road would take the tank to the main entrance of the Holiest House. With no magic to protect them, Ranulph’s men would be dog meat – if Jasmine was in time. She might even be able to persuade the big guy to surrender before Mary Schumacher turned up with reinforcements. After that, things would get messy.
The tank’s headlights swung across the Lower Courtyard, illuminating the surprised faces of hundreds of the Archbishop's billmen.
"Halt." Jasmine switched on the loudhailer and repeated her message.
As if they had not heard her, the white-surcoated men-at-arms fled up the ramp, men pushing and shoving to put the bodies of others between themselves and the tank. Between them they managed to totally block the way.
"Bugger."
" I could just... you know, " said the driver.
Jasmine shook her head. "Wait."
The courtyard emptied and the headlamps now shone on the three sets of double doors belonging to the basement of the Holiest House. A signboard returned to her like an old photograph: The Mysterious Black Library Reputed to Contain Works of Evil as Consulted by the Notorious Archbishop Grossi and... She completed aloud, "...the Thrilling Adventure of Entering the Cathedral via the Secret Passage."
Jasmine ordered, "Pull up against those doors — tight as you can. See if you can bump one open — " More arrows clanged on the hull. " — without making it too obvious."
Reversing and wheeling, the driver deftly brought the tank at a slight angle alongside the middle entrance. He twitched the throttles in opposite directions and the port turret slammed into the wood. He switched off and, without using the intercom, said, "That should do it, Field Marshal."
"Get your carbines, folks!" Jasmine unhooked her Stormgun. "We're going in the back." She led the way out of the port turret hatch. The double doors were built to open outwards, but the tank had snapped the big iron lock right out of its housing. It was easy to lever one leaf open and slip inside.
Raised voices greeted her. A pool of light back-lit — Jasmine blinked — a small Northern dragonship marooned in the middle of the Black Library, which was otherwise as she remembered it, except that books now filled the two great stacks running the length of the Cathedral's undercroft.
The sound of automatic fire seeped in from somewhere — the sound of GCDs doing their grim work. She frowned. They were supposed to be foolproof, but somebody — Tom? — had to have shown Ranulph's people how to use them.
More automatic fire.
The rattle must be echoing down a stairwell connecting the library to the Cathedral proper. The secret passage was already open.
The voices became distinct.
"A moment more, damn you!"
Jasmine's
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jasmine barely felt the bump as her tank smashed through a second gate. Twin engines roaring, tracks rattling and squealing on the wet cobbles, it continued its upwards spiral through the Holy Mount complex.
A column of well-armed White Brothers emerged from the rain, sodden surcoats plastered to breastplates, long spears on the shoulder.
As the tank overtook them, she switched on the loud hailer. "We've come to help."
The Archbishop's men bunched then split like a flock of sheep. Several tried to cross the tank’s path and vanished under the hull.
Jasmine winced. "Repeat. We have come to help."
More arrows pinged off the armour plating. Jasmine flinched back in her chair. None of them would be magical in this place. She returned to her vision port.
The monastic buildings formed an artificial canyon, blocking her view of the airship. How long would it take Maud to unleash the sorcery? "Faster."
The tank cornered and the tracks squealed, then the port turret banged into something. The driver brought them back on course then replied, " Fuck off, Field Marshal! "
Jasmine laughed. "Sorry. Just do your job."
The tracks crunched over a third gate. Just one more turn of the helter-skelter road would take the tank to the main entrance of the Holiest House. With no magic to protect them, Ranulph’s men would be dog meat – if Jasmine was in time. She might even be able to persuade the big guy to surrender before Mary Schumacher turned up with reinforcements. After that, things would get messy.
The tank’s headlights swung across the Lower Courtyard, illuminating the surprised faces of hundreds of the Archbishop's billmen.
"Halt." Jasmine switched on the loudhailer and repeated her message.
As if they had not heard her, the white-surcoated men-at-arms fled up the ramp, men pushing and shoving to put the bodies of others between themselves and the tank. Between them they managed to totally block the way.
"Bugger."
" I could just... you know, " said the driver.
Jasmine shook her head. "Wait."
The courtyard emptied and the headlamps now shone on the three sets of double doors belonging to the basement of the Holiest House. A signboard returned to her like an old photograph: The Mysterious Black Library Reputed to Contain Works of Evil as Consulted by the Notorious Archbishop Grossi and... She completed aloud, "...the Thrilling Adventure of Entering the Cathedral via the Secret Passage."
Jasmine ordered, "Pull up against those doors — tight as you can. See if you can bump one open — " More arrows clanged on the hull. " — without making it too obvious."
Reversing and wheeling, the driver deftly brought the tank at a slight angle alongside the middle entrance. He twitched the throttles in opposite directions and the port turret slammed into the wood. He switched off and, without using the intercom, said, "That should do it, Field Marshal."
"Get your carbines, folks!" Jasmine unhooked her Stormgun. "We're going in the back." She led the way out of the port turret hatch. The double doors were built to open outwards, but the tank had snapped the big iron lock right out of its housing. It was easy to lever one leaf open and slip inside.
Raised voices greeted her. A pool of light back-lit — Jasmine blinked — a small Northern dragonship marooned in the middle of the Black Library, which was otherwise as she remembered it, except that books now filled the two great stacks running the length of the Cathedral's undercroft.
The sound of automatic fire seeped in from somewhere — the sound of GCDs doing their grim work. She frowned. They were supposed to be foolproof, but somebody — Tom? — had to have shown Ranulph's people how to use them.
More automatic fire.
The rattle must be echoing down a stairwell connecting the library to the Cathedral proper. The secret passage was already open.
The voices became distinct.
"A moment more, damn you!"
Jasmine's
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