CHAPTER 46
With winter near, Billy flew to England and Ireland to impregnate the mothers of his children again, confident the Mongols would wait until spring to start an offensive. Then Jack showed up to give him the bad news.
Everyone looked up when Billy finally arrived at the country estate outside Madrid. The crowd greeted him like royalty, which left American Jack feeling unappreciated. He spent three centuries establishing himself, only to see some teenager replace him. It never crossed his mind that Genghis Khan felt the same at the Olympics.
Jack’s real talent lay in business. Without the resources he poured into the war over three hundred years, the Mongols would have conquered everyone long ago. But that didn’t inspire warriors like spectacular victories.
Jack's wand called everyone's attention as he tapped his throat to boost his voice.
"We have the leaders of every company here to discuss how we should respond to our newest threat. Those of you who already heard Dreamy's report know that the Mongol High Command is training high-altitude quads on the Alps to take the Pyrenees from us.”
“So much for re-taking Africa,” Mali complained.
“No, since we now have a safe path to Africa, the first of many American quads and their families plan on moving there to take extraction enterprises from the Mongols. Many more will follow if our initial efforts are successful. With Red’s money, I’m recruiting more African quads to add to our African division.
“Genghis has given General Jebe extraordinary powers to take veterans from Europe. Remember how Jebe trounced us outside Geneva a century ago? If Jebe can take the Pyrenees, the Mongols could finally conquer France and Spain.
"One idea is to force them to fight us at a place of our choosing -- say, on top of the highest peak in the Pyrenees -- and hit them with our newly grateful Spanish and French allies. We could thin them out on their way here and destroy their supply lines. Feeding and housing so many troops will give us plenty of opportunities to undermine them."
"Red, what do you think?" Bear asked, not noticing the pained look on Grandma’s face when she was not asked first.
Billy hovered above them and tapped his throat. "First of all, sorry I’m late. I’d have been here earlier, but I was too busy killing enemies and taking their treasure."
Everyone leaned forward. What was coming must be good because he just paraphrased an old Genghis Khan quote.
"As you probably know, I led the 3rd Marathon Battalion to gather more intel. We followed the golden mules from the Alps to their regional headquarters in Vienna. Since Jebe is basically robbing Europe of quads, we found it surprisingly easy to wipe them out."
Oh, he had them now, like kids at bedtime soaking up their favorite story.
"There we found more gold than the thousand of us could carry, much less the silver. They also had a lot of currency," meaning paper money used in intra-government transactions. Billy coughed and took a very long time drinking some wine. Everyone knew he was stringing them along. He, of all people, wouldn't leave gold behind. "We took all the bills we could carry. The guys are now arguing over what kingdom to buy." He pretended his story ended, but everyone knew different. "Jack, this is excellent wine!"
"What did you do with the damn gold?" Bear demanded.
"Oh, that? We dropped it, actually. Every one of us. I blame the humidity. Funny thing is, we went back to get some more, and dropped it again. In fact, on every trip, the thousand of us dropped all that gold and silver in the same hole. Which should just about cover the bonuses for the volunteers who help me beat Jebe.”
The applause rose to the heavens. Jack could see that the damn kid beat him again. Billy suddenly started laughing too hard to continue. He tried to drink some wine, but coughed in that, too.
"The problem, of course, with Mongol cash is only Mongols accept it, and only the government or government contractors accept it in large quantities. Because Mongolian law requires them to.
"You all know those child-size gunpowder bombs that Genghis used to such great effect bombarding walled cities two centuries before Europeans woke up to their potential? Yeah, funny story.
“Anyways, we found the main logistical officer at their headquarters who buys them for the High Command and, instead of dying, decided to retire rich. It turns out that Jebe ordered several million bombs, so I left Blade to help the logistical officer send them to private warehouses across Eurasia. Private third-party contractors are transporting them to where my raiders in Central Asia can access them. And skeptics say Mongol currency is worthless!”
Billy paused to imagine Jebe’s reaction when he discovers the enemy bought the munitions he planned on dropping on them.
"Now, I've always said the best time to kill quads is in their sleep. Preferably drunk. But we cannot kill them at all without knowing who they are. The High Command is making our task easier by sending them to the Alps. So I say, let’s use Jebe to bleed Europe of Mongol strength.
"I sent the 3rd Battalion to dig bunkers on the summit of Mont Blanc, the highest peak in Western Europe. At four thousand eight hundred meters, it stands nearly one and a half kilometers higher than the tallest peak on the Pyrenees. The Mongols put their training camp at three thousand meters, which may be enough for the Pyrenees, but fighting at five thousand meters will leave them literally breathless, while American University trained our guys at great heights. So, of our twenty thousand American marathoners, I’m asking for the two thousand with the highest ceiling to alternate weeks on the mountain.
“It’s almost winter, Mont Blanc is the coldest place in Europe, and I bought two thousand sets of cold-weather clothes from England. We’ll go prepared for winter warfare, while Jebe will take them with what they’re wearing. The mountain will cause more casualties than our wands. By spring, we’ll own another mountain chain and take the Italian peninsula from the enemy, which gives us most of the Mediterranean. Since they’re leaving Europe defenseless, the rest of you should raid their banks and businesses. And don’t forget to spread a video of me urging Europeans to kill every Mongol on sight.”
Through the thunderous applause, Jack felt the weight of responsibility for the global war finally slip off his shoulders. Over the centuries, many rebel leaders briefly eclipsed him, but none survived long. So it always came back to him to do the heavy lifting.
The problem with leading century-old veterans is that they suffer from so many scars. The physical scars that predict cold weather are bad enough, but the psychic ones are worse. It made being with them a living hell. War is endless tedium interrupted by unexpected terror endured under constant hardship, little sleep, and unbearable stress. So it’s bad enough when the girl back home replaces you, or your current lover finds someone better. After enough cold, rainy nights without a tent, one innocent remark could spark a deadly fight. Jealously, envy, and boredom wound more soldiers than the enemy. Yet Jack asked them to follow him into battle, so they were his responsibility.
Until now.
He looked at the Red Baron in wonder. After believing for so long that his original family died, the rebellion finds the leader it needs in his last legitimate descendent, of all people. And just a boy, at that.
Jack examined the faces of the embittered veterans who had fought for centuries and saw hope in their eyes. Even Grandma believed the boy could beat Genghis freaking Khan, and she never let anyone get her hopes up. Not after what her father did to her.
As he watched the teenager absorb their applause, Jack discovered that he, too, believed the Red Baron would prevail. He couldn’t imagine how, but something deep inside told him the boy would win. Despite all the odds. That damn kid turned the world’s oldest skeptic into a believer.
Unbelievable.