by Shad N Freud
Cenere immediately raised his hand, causing Carl to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Other than their relationship status?”
Cenere’s hand immediately went back down.
“Right. Idiot. Alright gents, who’s hungry?” Zeke’s hand shot up, causing Carl to rub his temples. “Put your hand down, Zeke. That was a rhetorical…nevermind2222. Jeeves should be bringing dinner in right. About.” The door from the kitchen opened and Jeeves pushed a three-level cart into the dining room. “Now. Tuck in, gents. I’ve got a few calls to make.”
Carl left the dining room and made his way to the training room. “Room: Security level Maximum. Run bug check.” The room was bathed in blue light, then green, signifying that there were no recording devices active. Anti-scrying sigils activated, and the walls turned orange. He then pulled out his cellphone and activated the thirteen layers of Virtual Private Network security he routed calls through for this particular phone number. He smiled as he dialed the number from memory into a flip-phone he planned on destroying after the call. He waited three rings, then hung up the phone before calling again. It picked up on the first ring. “Greenie?”
Carl smiled as he pulled his pack of smokes out of his coat pocket. “’Ello Sugar Tits. Miss me?”
The voice on the other end giggled. “Of course, I did, you big jerk! How goes the vacation? How many beaches have you been to already?”
Carl lit his smoke before responding. “Three so far. Planning on trying two more in the next day or two. You know how it is. Probably going to grab tacos when I get to the beach, might take in a museum or two. Want any souvenirs while I’m out and about?”
“Why yes! Get me a pearl necklace, would you?”
“Will do. Ciao Bella.”
“Ciao, Carl.”
Having sent the coded message to his fellow Grand Inquisitor in Boston, Carl hung up the phone before dropping it on the floor and crushing it under his heel. He then sprayed the phone with Hellfire, slagging the device. “Room: scatter the ashes.” He pulled his smart phone out of his pocket and linked it through the VPN quagmire before calling his wife. She picked up on the third ring.
“Carl!”
“Hi, Tryst. Miss you.”
∞∞∞
A black limousine bearing the Church’s standard came to a stop in front of a C130J Super Hercules, one outfitted with point defense weapons and numerous countermeasure systems. The owner of the plane was made obvious by the red and black paint, and the Black Hand’s sigil on the plane’s tail, denoting the plane as belonging to the Pope. The driver hopped out and opened the door, the first to exit being the seven-and-a-half-foot tall lizard man. Carl exited next, then Cenere, with Jin hopping out last, grumbling about car seats.
The massive cargo door was already open for the teams rolling mining equipment into the storage compartments. Hidden in the middle was a large wooden box with a locking door. A man dressed as a stevedore checked their credentials, then spoke into a wrist microphone before ushering them over to the box and unlocking the door. He then saluted the Cardinal and went back to loading the plane. Carl reached into his coat and produced his runestone, placing it on the wall inside the door. The door closed and Carl counted to five before opening it again and strolling into the mansion. “Gents, better get comfortable. Next stop is Mexico.”
The group dispersed, with Cenere making his way to his room with a lecherous grin on his face. Carl rolled his eyes as he made his way to the lounge. He had his stories to catch up on, after all. Meanwhile, Zeke perused the library where he found Jin reading dusty old books pertaining to the dying art of enchantment. He was reading one such book with a look of frustrated confusion, as he couldn’t understand a word of what the book was trying to say. He gently put the ancient tome back where he’d found it and turned to see Zeke pulling a book of ancient Chinese martial arts techniques off of one of the higher shelves, smiling to himself as he took the book to the sitting area, almost disappearing into the indecently plush easy chair he sat on. Jin sat at a reading table with his books and began taking notes as he looked at some of the rune schemes he wanted to tinker around with when they had down time.
∞∞∞
Carl sat in his favorite chair, smoking a cigar as he drank some fine cognac. On the screen was one of Carl’s favorite movies, a quest undertaken by a group of mostly valiant knights as they sought the holy relic of their religion. It was, of course, Monty Python and the Holy Grail. He took a long drag of his cigar as Galahad fought the temptation to deflower an entire tower’s worth of horny virgins, all between sixteen and nineteen and a half, when the mansion shook a bit, causing him to spill his cognac. He growled as he paused the movie, then made his way to the foyer, intent on finding out what the Hell was going on. There was a frantic knock at the door as Carl made his way to the entrance and he flung the door open.
“Sorry to bother you, your grace, but we’ve got trouble.” The plane shook violently, nearly causing the airman to fall on his ass. “We appear to have attracted a flock of demons, sir.”
Carl snarled as he pressed his hand on the wall and summoned an intercom. “Gents, we’ve got company. Grab your gear. We’ve got demons to slay!”
Jin and Zeke came bolting out of the library, stopping for a moment to grab their gear from Jeeves as they ran out the door. Cenere did his best to run as he pulled his pants back up, his hair rather wet as if he’d had to dress hastily after jumping out of a bathtub. Carl pinched the bridge of his nose as he counted to ten while Cenere sheepishly smiled, slipping out the door as he dragged his pack behind him. Jin glared at Cenere as he finished getting dressed. “Your sense of timing is terrible, Fancy.”
“Can it, Shrimp. I was taking a bath.”
“For three hours? Like the other ‘baths’ you’ve taken this week?”
“What? I like to stay clean.”
“Only you could make bathing dirty. Taking ruthless advantage of those poor girls.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it.” Cenere grinned as he tied his hair back. The plane rocked again, and the intercom crackled to life. Zeke fought the urge to vomit as the motion of the plane got to him.
“I think, urp, I think I hate flying.” Zeke said, looking a little greener than usual. His cheeks bulged as he ran for the nearest airsickness bag.
Jin and Cenere looked at each other in surprise as the four-hundred-pound set of walking luggage ran for the passenger area. “Guy drinks paint thinner and eats his meat still squirming, and flying’s what turns his stomach?” Jin shrugged as the intercom crackled to life.
“Folks, this is your captain speaking,” the pilot’s voice buzzed over the intercom. “We’re experiencing some pretty serious turbulence, and I’m afraid we may need to…what the hell was that?!”
The intercom cut out suddenly as something smashed into the cockpit, and the plane started losing altitude. Carl was immediately on his feet and running for the cockpit, kicking the door open to see a pile of ash where the pilot had been. Several bird-like demons, anzus, were attacking the co-pilot, a tiefling woman who was fending off the abyssal raptors as they struck at the emergency force barrier, the runes smoking as the demons repeatedly lashed out at the barrier. Carl could see more demons trying to get into the plane; one pushed out of the way ended up getting sucked into the intake for one of the port jet engines, causing a rather spectacular explosion as the engine was destroyed and the wing set on fire. Carl snarled as his hand flashed out and snapped the neck of an anzu that he then used as a cudgel to brain another.
“Why can’t anything ever go as planned? I swear, if that damned Murphy weren’t apocryphal, I’d ensure he died slowly for that damned law of his.” Carl grimaced as he dodged another anzu’s spear, then grabbed him by the wrist and swung him into the wall of the plane before shoving a fist through the demon’s ribcage. The purple light in the demon’s eyes dimmed and guttered like a doused fire. Carl looked out through the barrier and saw that anzus had penetrated the fuselage, only to
fly back out of the hole with missing limbs, their bodies broken or lashed to pieces, all of them burning as they plummeted to earth. The remaining demons caught wise and started tearing at the wings, causing the already harried co-pilot to scream in frustration as she lost control of the plane.
“I’m sorry your Grace, but this crate’s going down. I recommend you and your people hit the silk while we keep them occupied.” The tiefling, Jocelyn if the name-tag was any indicator, whipped out a K-bar and slit her harness before grabbing a shotgun, slapping the Sylph Pilot button, and barreling towards the hole in her plane to unleash hell on the demons that had dared to attack her plane. Blue sigils formed over the surface of the aircraft and every electrical system on the plane grounded out spectacularly as a massive surge of arcane energy enveloped the plane in a one-use featherfall spell that wrecked the non-protected systems plane wide.
No longer at risk of a high-speed nose dive, Carl and the rest of his crew ran to the cargo doors, and everyone threw on parachutes. Zeke, as soon as his straps tightened, used his greatsword like a can opener to cut the door open and then leapt out, grateful they’d had a crash course on parachuting before taking off. He was quickly followed by Jin, Cenere, and finally Carl after throwing a grenade to the severely wounded copilot, who pulled the pin and rushed the remaining demons that screeched loudly as she bore down on them with her K-bar.
Carl saluted her bravery, pulled out a brick of c-4, threw it at the emergency air supply cannisters, and fell out the hole in the door. He saw a small explosion from further up the plane, and pulled out his detonator, flipping the switch and lighting up the night’s sky with a massive fireball that consumed the remaining anzus who had swarmed the mortally wounded cargo jet. Carl flipped around and kept a gimlet eye on his elevation indicator, pulling his rip cord at the exact moment he needed to and floated down to join his crew on the ground. Cenere was twirling a throwing knife in his hand as he looked around the jungle, keeping watch while Zeke worked to extricate the swearing gnome that was suspended in a tree by his parachute. Carl lit a fresh Blackjack and put on his sunglasses, tapping the miniscule sight rune on the earpiece, and glaring at the jungle as traps became limned in red, their activators in blue.
“Right, step where I step. Someone knew we were coming and baked us a cake. This is gonna be a long night.”
“Cut me down already, you over grown iguana!”
∞∞∞
Some hours later, a sweaty, disheveled, and faintly charred Carl burst out of the jungle and into a clearing, panting with fury as his eyes slowly faded from the red they’d turned after one too many traps being set off by his underlings. His sunglasses hung slightly askew on his face as he tried to lower his heart rate to avert going into a berserker rage and killing his charges. Those charges were behind him, with Cenere glaring murderously at the gnome riding on the lizard man’s shoulders. Zeke seemed completely untouched by the jungle’s predations and, in fact, seemed to be enjoying himself, occasionally grabbing and eating various forms of jungle fauna that made the mistake of getting within arm’s reach. He was presently munching on the tail end of a boa constrictor, bones and all, as the gnome rested his aching legs.
“Well gents, I think this is as good a place as any to set up camp.”
“Camp?” Cenere and Jin said in unison, then glared at each other as Cenere continued, “Why aren’t we sleeping in the mansion? It’s hotter than Dis and wetter than the nuns at the Carnal House on Saint Wanton’s Day out here. Why are we roughing it?”
“No doorway. Needs an actual permanent doorway with a door, hinges, and a lintel. A tent door just won’t cut it.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Jin muttered as he scaled down his reptilian mount. “If you ever stop complaining, I’ll be the first to check if you can still fog a mirror.”
“Oh, like you’re one to talk! ‘Wah! My stubby little legs hurt! Wah! I can’t walk as fast as the rest of you! Wah! I’m made to shoot magic, not walk everywhere!’ Stop mewling like a baby, Shrimp. I was just asking, as it’d be easier to guard a single door rather than a clearing.”
“So, it just needs a door?” Zeke asked, scratching his head as he walked across the clearing. He started pulling down vines and undergrowth, exposing stonework in a rather serious state of disrepair. Seeing a flash of faded red cloth, he ripped more vegetation down and exposed the rotting remains of what was clearly a flag. One with a white circle in the center, emblazoned with none other than a swastika. “Perhaps they left a key under the mat?”
Carl facepalmed, then drew his pistol and baton. “Bloody Hell, it had to be Nazis, didn’t it? Bugger. Well lads, it looks like we’re gonna be taking a raincheck on this little camping trip. C’mon, let’s see if we can’t scope out the front door. Hopefully, we’ll find the base camp for the researchers, but I’m not feeling all that sanguineous about what we’ll find if the in-flight entertainment was any indication. Safeties off and point the gnome at the enemy.”
Chapter Six
“How are we doing this morning, hmmm?” a raspy, dry voice asked as lights came back on in the sterile interrogation room. A young woman’s eyes snapped open and she bit down harder on the gag in her mouth with broken teeth, snarling in protest. Her tormentor, a lich dressed in tattered clothes more reminiscent of a doctor’s than a torturer’s, strode stiffly across the room to where the young woman was tied to a rack. He gently removed her gag and received a mouthful of bloody spittle in his face for his troubles.
The doctor paused, wiping his face with a disinfectant wipe as he chuckled. “Still hostile, hmm? Keep this up, mein fraulein, and I won’t be so gentle.” The lich opened a small closet and wheeled out a tray of surgical tools as well as a steel rod, a blow torch, a butcher’s hook, and a box of bamboo skewers.
“Now then, let’s begin. From the top. Exactly how did you and your team find this place?” The lich smiled, his desiccated skin torn in places to reveal his blackened teeth or exposed bones in his face. He took a long, slow drag on a cigarette, blowing the stale tobacco smoke in her face. She grimaced as she tried to turn her face away in vain. The “doctor” leered at her with his unblinking red pinpricks set in the back of his empty eye sockets, the biological orbs having shriveled up years ago.
His prisoner whispered something inaudible, her parched throat making it hard to decipher her meaning. The lich leaned forward to hear her better and she spit in his face again, this time getting it in his eye. The lich chuckled again as he wiped his eye clean before grabbing the steel rod from the table. He pulled a lever on the rack, and the young woman was raised out of her horizontal position so that she was vertical to the floor. “I suppose we’ll have to do this the hard way then, won’t we?” the doctor asked as he raised his arm, and brought the rod down on her exposed back.
She felt her bruised ribs and scapula break, and nearly bit her tongue off as she grit her broken teeth, attempting to fight the urge to scream. She’d be damned if she’d give the little sadist the satisfaction. She coughed as she fought to remain standing, her legs threatening to give out.
“Guh…feck yerself…wi’ a kippah, yeh goose-steppin’ cunt,” she ground out as she fought to stay conscious. She could feel her lungs filling with fluid and assumed the fucker had punctured a lung when he struck her with the truncheon. The doctor chuckled again as he stepped in front of her, then looked at her legs.
“Sticks and stones, fraulein, sticks and stones. My, but you have such pretty legs, fraulein. A shame you’re not more cooperative.” The sadistic lich laughed as he brutally brought the rod down on her knee, shattering her patella. The pain snapped her composure and she screamed in agony as he pressed down on the ruined kneecap with the metal bar.
“Please...n’ more. N’ more! I’ll tell yeh what yeh want to know.”
“No tricks now, fraulein,” the lich warned as he moved the lever again, rotating her back to a horizontal position. He looked down at her, picking up a healing rod from the table and using some of its
stored energies to heal her knee and the internal injuries. He then sat back down on his stool, holding the cigarette an inch from the woman’s eye. “Let’s start with something simple, yes? What is your name?”
“Brown. Camilla Brown.”
“Very good! You see? Cooperation makes things like this go much easier. Now then, Liebschen, where is your compatriot? The gook you came here with?”
“I’ll tell yeh, but I dinnae ken ye’ll like th’ answer. First, ye’ll need teh GO FUCK YER MOTHER!” Camilla laughed until the incensed Doctor put his cigarette out in her eye before grabbing his rod again. Blood flew as her bones broke, her screams accompanying the drum beat of her tormentor’s truncheon.
Unseen by the doctor, a camera watched the little tableau; a camera that sent it’s signal wirelessly to a spider hole in one of the temple’s abandoned rooms. In that room, a young woman watched her friend’s torture, forcing herself not to run out of her hiding place and put an end to it.
She looked at her provisions and did her best not to give in to despair. The Nazis in this abysmal place had no need for food, being undead, so her supplies dwindled by the day. She could have fled, sure, but she refused to leave her friend behind. Instead, the Japanese-American woman had been sabotaging what she could, ambushing the stupid zombies that roamed the halls of the Aztec pyramid as they labored to remake the blood sigils and engravings their saboteur kept destroying. The young woman kept switching cameras to see what was going on in the rest of the temple, as far as she’d been able to set cameras.
