Trebizond - January 23
"And you're sure you saw his face?" Theodora said.
"Yes," Kira said, "I am certain that General Dalassenos will be shot and killed in the next few days."
Theodora shook her head and downed another cup of coffee. "
Skata...any other details you can tell me?"
"It was at a medical clinic," Kira said, "For wounded soldiers, I think. Dalassenos was shot in the stomach and surrounded."
"I'm going to double the security at all of the field hospitals," Theodora said.
"That might not work," Kira said, "These visions don't always happen exactly as they do. He could be shot near a clinic, not just inside it."
"I hope that's the case," Theodora said, "Then that means we can still save him."
I'm surprised he's still alive to begin with. Irene tells me he stayed behind in the West End to buy her and the others time to escape. But he made it to Nicomedia. So why's he not coming here? Is he as stubborn as Theodoros?
"You'll have to do a lot more than moving troops around to avert Dalassenos' death."
"This isn't all I'll do."
There was a pause. Then Kira continued, realizing what Theodora meant. "You're going to tell him."
"How better to avoid fate if you know what is in store?"
Kira sighed. "'A man often meets his destiny on the road to avoid it'."
"I know, but it at least gives him a chance of avoiding it," Theodora said, "If we don't do anything, he'll walk into that ambush and die. We can't lose Ioannes. He's our best general."
"How do you know he's going to act on the information you've told him?"
"I don't. I just have to hope."
Nicomedia
Ioannes patiently listened to everything Theodora said, from the deal with Kira to the vision to his own alleged fate. Once Theodora was done, he realized he was holding his breath. He exhaled.
"Okay, that's a lot to take in," he finally said, "But if you say this is going to happen, then I'll believe you."
"You do?" Theodora sounded surprised.
"Ma'am, when you were a teenager, I was fighting vampires in Transylvania. This is nothing new to me."
Theodora sighed. "Seriously, Ioannes, can you just drop the vampire story?"
"But it's true!"
"Okay, we are not having this discussion again, old man. Save it for when you arrive in Trebizond."
"Theodora, you know I'm not going to Trebizond right now," Ioannes said, "Not when the capital is right there."
"And so is your death."
"I've already scheduled the visit, though."
Theodora whispered what sounded like a curse, then she continued in a panicked voice. "Then frakking cancel it!"
"I can't, Theodora! You can't just have me change my schedule and that of the army on a whim!" Ioannes had to raise his voice in response. "I know you're trying to protect me, but if I were to change everything now, it would mess up a lot of things. It would seem as if I got cold feet and fled. My troops would lose morale. The enemy would be emboldened. And the situation in the East End is fluid. I need to be there. Don't worry. I'll take care of myself. I'll call you when I'm back in Nicomedia."
He hung up.
If it seems like I could die in the East End, I might as well be prepared...
January 24
After crossing the strait with a lot of luck on their side, the squad under his command managed to stay uncaught. They mainly raided supply dumps in the Amikos district, stealing and destroying crates, sabotaging the grenades, and damaging tools and weapons, it all was minor, but they lacked the means to fully destroy the depots, and even if they had enough explosives, it'd draw too much attention. Guns jamming, or grenades turning out to be duds was far less conspicuous.
Preparations for the visit were underway. Ioannes had spent yesterday going over the itinerary and handing it out to the local commanders, then organizing a security detail both for Amikos District in general and himself. He was well aware he could be a target for the blackshirts. They'd be idiots not to try taking him out while he was on the front lines. And there were probably blindspots in his straits patrols. If the enemy did try to attack and then flee back to the West End, he could use their route to cover those holes. Also, he didn't want to pay Paul five hyperpyra.
He received regular updates from Constantinople as he packed and got everything in order. Some troops on the Kyparades Bridge barricades reported a higher rate of guns jamming and grenade duds. The supply depots that delivered the faulty weapons were being checked for possible sabotage, but it was unlikely they'd find any incriminating evidence. The best they could do was to increase security around the depots and resupply the troops with working weapons from other depots. Unless those other depots were also hit.
January 26
They also were able to strike down a few lower rank officers, but ultimately none of what they did would have a large impact.
Two days later, Ioannes' suspicions were confirmed when a couple field commanders were found dead. None were high ranking enough that their deaths would throw the entire formation into chaos, but it was now clear that the blackshirts were actively operating in the East End. They had likely come through the blindspots in his straits patrols sometime in the last two days. Ioannes wasn't quite sure where exactly they had crossed. He had a few likely routes marked down, but there was no way of knowing which one they had taken. However, he didn't need to. Against Paul's judgment, Ioannes ordered the patrols to maintain their current routes, without any changes. With any luck, the blackshirts would grow tired of meddling in the East End and try to return to the other side. And when they did so, they'd go through one of the blindspots. He just had to figure out when that would be.
However one of the young officers revealed some interesting information. A high-ranking officer was meant to visit the frontlines today, a perfect opportunity to deal a big blow to the rebel cause, and even detailed the route the general would take. All of this was way too lucky. Demetriides was a man who believed that luck was a finite resource, and so far he's been using a lot of it -the crossing, the days of partisan activity, the general's visit. But it would be foolish not to use this chance.
The fact that they had gone from sabotage—they were clearly behind the sabotage now—to assassination was an expected but worrying change in mission. That meant the blackshirts would probably escalate further before retreating. If they could take out random commanders, then they might get cocky and start hitting higher ranking officers. And then they'd try going higher and higher up the chain of command until they reached...oh.
Maybe that's what that girl saw in her vision.
Constantinople - January 28
The day of the visit came. As soon as the train from Nicomedia pulled into Chalcedon Station—without incident, thank goodness the blackshirts' activity seemed to be limited to Amikos and Skoutarion—Ioannes got to work greeting his soldiers and officers. He shook hands, said the obligatory words, thanked everyone for their service and dedication, and handed out a few medals and promotions. Then he got into his car and headed up to Amikos. It was a clear provocation. Bait, more like. No general would be stupid enough to visit such a volatile front, especially after the enemy had shown the capability to strike behind the front lines. But he went anyways. He wanted to lure the blackshirts out and expose the blindspots. If he had to become the bait in his own trap, then so be it.
Theodora didn't have to worry. He hadn't forgotten what the girl had foreseen.
A part of him, though, feared his hubris would get the better of him.
The time to strike would be soon. The general for sure would be escorted, so they'd blow up the buildings near the road, destroying the escort car ahead and behind, trapping the one with the general between them. Then, in the panic of the firefight, a sharpshooter would take out the general, once that was done they would disperse and meet up at the agreed safehouse.
Simple, elegant, what could possibly go wrong?
And so they waited, split into 3 teams, two ground ones that'd detonate the charges, and their blackshirt "guest" up on the second floor with the perfect vantage point to take out the general. It was cold and damp, but the adrenaline kept them all warm.
Demetriides checked his watch, his heart pounding in his chest. The moment of truth had arrived. The first team set off the charges, but something went wrong, and the explosion was much weaker than they had expected, merely sending the car into a slip and crashing into a nearby building. The second team tried to detonate the charges but there was no explosion, the wire must've gotten damaged, and so both the ground squads laid suppressive fire trying to keep the enemy troops down.
His motorcade consisted of two escort cars, one in front and the other behind. Each had a soldier manning a machine gun turret in the back. His own car was an armored four-seater, and riding with him were some MPs, all heavily armed. They would head through Skoutarion up to Amikos, where the refugee field hospitals were. That was where the girl said the attack would happen, right? He had already evacuated all of the hospitals, moving their staff and patients to Chalcedon. The only people who would be caught in the crossfire would be soldiers. And himself.
It was the anticipation that was the most nerve-wracking. The feeling that something terrible was about to happen, yet he would not avoid it. He was walking right into the lions' den, and he knew it. The only question was when the lions would pounce.
The answer came sooner than he expected. He was the first to notice a flash of light in the lobby of a hotel to his right, followed by the windows shattering and the glass spewing out into the street. The building swayed slightly, looming over the street far enough for all three drivers to hit the brakes. It seemed they meant to collapse the hotel in front of them and block their path, but apparently the charges didn't fully destroy the foundations.
The next thing he knew, the ground underneath the front escort car exploded, taking out one wheel. Having not come to a full stop, the car went into a spin and crashed into a cafe. Ioannes spun around, expecting another mine to take out the other escort, but nothing happened. The second escort car sped up and pulled up alongside his own, revealing a charge hidden in between the cobblestones. A dud, or the wires were cut.
Then the shooting started. Bullets pinged off the street cobblestones, shattering Ioannes' windows. One struck Ioannes in the shoulder, and he fell back. The MPs immediately took action. One pushed him down and began putting a tourniquet on the wound, while the others pulled out their guns and returned fire. When the machine gunners joined in, the sound of the blackshirts' gunfire was almost completely covered.
But the soldiers guarding the general's car were able to react quickly and return fire. The young fascist on the second floor took aim, but a, grenade explosion shook Julius's hand she missed hir shot, only hitting the general's shoulder. It was only a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity, Demetriides saw that the rebel soldiers were closing in on their position rapidly, and he knew that they had to get out of there. He ordered a retreat, and five men on the ground were quick to retreat in various directions, saying in cover and tossing grenades to slow down their pursuers.
But Julius wasn't so lucky. The moment he tried to run down the stairs they collapse, leaving him trapped in a pile of rubble. The general's guards were quickly surrounded and captured by the soldiers.
Within minutes, the secondary escort motorcade had arrived and brought its own firepower to bear on the ambushers. Ioannes' driver shifted into reverse and sped away from the chaos, this time with four escort vehicles surrounding them. Once they were back in Chalcedon, Ioannes was rushed into a hospital—a proper hospital, not one of the improvised field hospitals—and had his wound treated. The bad news was that a bullet wound to the shoulder was normally very dangerous. Blood could be lost extremely quickly, and infections could spread to critical organs just as fast. Even if the wound healed, there was a risk of losing arm function, either partially or fully.
However, Ioannes was incredibly lucky in that not only did the bullet not dig too deep, but it had also missed all of the major bones and blood vessels.
When he awoke from his operation, noticed his shoulder wrapped in bandages, and was told the news, all he could do was laugh. "See, Theodora? I told you I'd be perfectly fine! And God? I'm not done yet!"
January 29
A few hours later Demetriides and his men regrouped mostly safe and sound, short one fascist, but they knew that they had failed in their mission. The general had only been lightly wounded. Their luck has run out and the best they could do for the next few days was scavenge for food and lay low.
Demetriides couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. They had been so close to success, but their luck had run out. He resolved to do better in the future, to plan more carefully, and minimize the risks for his team. The fight for their cause was far from over, and they couldn't afford to make any more mistakes.
Paul paced around the hospital room, clearly displeased with what had happened.
"Paul, you better not say you're taking responsibility again," Ioannes said, "I swear, sometimes it feels like you got some dynatos' daughter pregnant when you were in naval academy."
"Oh, no, nothing that crazy," Paul said, "Or stupid. I was just going to say I hope you're happy with yourself. Was getting shot in the shoulder and putting at least three squads in danger part of your plan?"
"If you put it that way, then yes," Ioannes said, "That was entirely my plan."
"Are you sure you're not just taking credit after the fact?" Paul said. "Because the way I see it, you willingly walked right into a dangerous district that has been contested by the enemy literally in the last three days."
"I don't regret it at all." Ioannes handed Paul some files. "Take a look at these files."
Paul read the files. "Prisoner of war captured?"
"We captured one of their men, Paul," Ioannes said, "Some young radical. He's being shipped off to an MSI facility for interrogation as we speak."
"What about the rest of them?" Paul said. "That kid didn't act alone. For God's sake, they tried blowing up an entire hotel just to trap you! We need to stop them before they blow up a bigger building! Where's the rest of his team?"
"Probably lying low somewhere in Amikos or Skoutarion," Ioannes said, "We'll flush them out eventually. Either they try to hit another target or go after me again, or they'll book it for the West End. The first option's suicide, they'd only be signing their own death warrants. The second option...once their supplies run out and our patrols become more through, they'll try to sneak back across the straits."
"And they will get back across because you refused to change the patrols!"
"On the contrary, that's my plan," Ioannes said, "If they do try to cross, they'll have to take the same route they went through. They'll reveal the blindspots in our patrols and allow us to cover them up."
"You really want to let the same team which
shot you to go free?!" Paul said.
"Once they're gone, they won't come back for a long time," Ioannes said, "Time we can use fortifying the East End and preparing for a full-scale assault on the West End."
"You're playing with fire, Ioannes, and you know it."
Ioannes tried to shrug, but that only made his shoulder hurt. "So what? I got lucky yesterday. And I don't think my luck's running out anytime soon. The cards are in our deck now, Paul. We've forced their hand. The blackshirts' next move will only weaken them further."
Paul sighed. "And you know all this...how?"
Ioannes smiled. "Call it a little...foresight."
"You know, maybe I should just let you rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Paul turned to leave.
"Oh, and one more thing, Paul."
"What is it?"
"You owe me five hyperpyra."
"Oh goddamnit!"
Trebizond - February 2
Franco listened intently to Theodora speak as he jotted down what she said. What she suggested about calling on Konstantinos to permit the Church to carry out the Emperor's last rites was a valid proposal, visibly nodding in agreement to it. And he continued that nodding as he suspected that Nestorius would agree with Theodora's commentary on the state of the Empire...
Thinking about it clearly, it was likely Theodora had heard the news, given her position, though whether or not she did was unclear to him. They were still fine-tuning things at the temporary HQ, and in turn wouldn't be receiving messages that would've otherwise been received at the Thaddai estate in Constantinople. The only ones who'd know anything would be those in Komnenion. He hoped everything was going well there.
---
Though today was a Saturday, it meant little for those in Komnenion. In one of the many rooms of the most prestigious hospital in the capital, lay one Nestorius Thaddas. The personnel at the hospital had been spending much of their time since the 23rd just attempting to figure out what was wrong with him, while doing their best to stabilize his situation. Though they had managed to do the latter, no progress was made when it came to the former. Though some ideas were being formed, nothing conclusive has been reached so far.
In his room he was always joined by two people - the nurse that had been assigned to him, and Father Erasmos - who were watching over him the most intently. Kyrene had her work cut out for her, having to deal with state affairs, the media asking questions, and attempting to find the time to come and visit him for as long as possible. Timon, meanwhile, found himself by his lonesome with the staff back at the estate, with his son seeming somewhat uncomforted by this whole situation. So, he found himself catching up with his old friend Erasmos.
He had known Kalogeropoulos since childhood, but lost touch with him in their teens, as he shifted to becoming a monk. It was only after the Sack of Constantinople, with the 'head' branch of the family in need of a priest and confessor in the city, that he sought out his old friend Klimis, now known as Erasmos. Even years since, with the man receiving permission to transfer to Aotearoa to join him when he moved, the two of them still had much to talk about - that is, whenever he wasn't having visitations.
From Mesazon Papadopoulos and the many political leaders of the country, from Mokauiti Motors head Piripi Hamaraha to Aotearoa Broadcasting Company (AEM) head Dimitrios Exadaktylos, from Yanagizawa Wakaba representing the Japantowns in Aotearoa, to Archbishop Angelarios of the Orthodox Church of Aotearoa early today, many have come to see him, and even more have sent him letters, including the neighboring leaders in Australia and Indonesia... as well as a message from his old friend Theodora Doukas. He wasn't sure what resources she could offer that would help at this time, but he was glad that a friend was thinking of him, even with prayer.
Irene, Theodora, and Heraclius ate their dinner quietly. The food was nice, and the living room had been decorated as best as they could, but the atmosphere remained sterile and cold, almost like the office. Perhaps it was because Theodora was still reading files and writing down notes and responses even as she ate.
"Auntie, can you at least take a break?" Irene asked. "It's dinnertime."
"I can't," Theodora said, "There's so much going on in such a small timeframe...I have to keep up."
"Can't it just wait for an hour?" Irene said. "Let's just eat dinner like we used to."
As soon as those words left her mouth, Irene realized she was asking the impossible. Two chairs at the table would always stay empty.
Heraclius joined in at that moment and changed the subject, thankfully. "Mom, please. What is so important that you have to work at the dinner table?"
"You know my work, Heraclius. It's important."
"But you've never been this stressed out. Did something happen yesterday?"
"No." Theodora shook her head, but Irene could tell she was just putting on a front. "The session went fine. That's all you need to know."
"The session went fine. That's all you need to know." That's what they said after Konstantinos' address. "You're not telling us the full story," Irene said, "We deserve to know the truth, Auntie. We're family."
"Please, Mom," Heraclius said, "What happened?"
Theodora hesitated. Then she relented. "It's Senator Thaddas. He had an accident and is in the hospital."
Senator Thaddas...Auntie's friend. I worked with his colleagues last month, but I haven't seen him in person. Auntie always speaks so highly of him. "I'm sorry."
"I already sent a letter expressing my condolences and offering to help." Theodora became more candid. "But honestly, I don't know how to help. I have too much on my plate right now. What with Gallipoli and Amikos and Dalassenos and all that. It feels so frustrating, knowing I'm stuck here while one of my friends is in pain on the other side of the world. It's just like when Alexios and Belisarius..."
"Why don't I go instead?" Irene said.
Theodora looked up from her papers. "You go?"
"I could go too," Heraclius said, "His doctors could use some help."
"And I'll be there in your place," Irene said, "I know it's no substitute for you actually being there, but I'll do my best."
"But you're needed here, both of you," Theodora said.
"I'm not exactly doing much at the hospital here," Heraclius said.
"Let's face it, Auntie, the most I've done for the last month is sit at my typewriter typing up notes and reports," Irene said, "I haven't done much since January's session. You can continue your work, but I'll be there for Senator Thaddas. I helped out his colleagues during the escape from Constantinople, so it's only natural to go to Aotearoa."
"You do know if you go there, you're not coming back anytime soon," Theodora said.
"Maybe that's for the best," Heraclius said, "Anatolia isn't exactly the safest place right now, while Aotearoa is far from the fighting. We'll lie low, help Senator Thaddas, and hopefully we'll return when things have calmed down."
"Are you sure?" Theodora said. "Because once I've chartered the flight and spent the money, I can't back out."
Irene looked at Heraclius. "You sure you want to go with me? I was expecting to go alone."
"There's a patient in need, and I can help him," Heraclius said, "I can't turn my back."
They both looked at Theodora.
"Fine," she said, "I'll charter the flight."
Kira's place - February 3, late at night
Kira shot awake, panting heavily. "Damnit!"
I have to stop waking up like this. Wait a minute, why did I wake up like this? ...oh.
Suddenly, she remembered the dream she was experiencing. It wasn't as clear as the previous one with Dalassenos. Everything was murky. The most she could make out were shapes, as if accounting for multiple possibilities. Perhaps the future she had seen wasn't as set in stone as with Dalassenos'. That was both a relief and a concern. What point was her foresight if she couldn't accurately see the future? At least she could make out a few faces, which allowed her to narrow down who was involved in this premonition.
She picked up the telephone. "Operator, I need to talk to Minister Doukas."
"One moment." There was a click, and then Theodora's voice came through. "Kira? Did you have another dream?"
"Yes," Kira said, "It's about Timon Thaddas, Irene, and Heraclius. I think something's going to happen to them."
There was a pause. "
SKATA!"
"Theodora?"
Theodora quickly recollected herself. "Goddamnit...of all the times you could've gotten a dream about that..."
"Why's that?" Kira asked.
"Because I just sent Irene and Heraclius on a plane to Aotearoa, and I can't reach them!"