by Sean Deville
“We were asked to do a job. Your boss talked to our boss, who talked to his boss. We go where we are sent.” Dmitri would be relieved the operation had gone smoothly. None of his men had been injured apart from Vadik, and Lilith had noticed how the mute had refused to let Anastasia fuss over him.
“What happens next?”
“We take you to an address we have been provided with. I believe it’s a church not far from here.”
“Sanctuary,” Lilith said quietly.
“I’m sorry?” Dmitri had heard her; he just hadn’t understood the reference.
“That’s what we call the church. Sanctuary.”
“I need you to spread your legs,” Anastasia insisted. Lilith didn’t hesitate and let the gloved hands examine her pelvis. “This is inhumane,” Anastasia said through gritted teeth.
“I’ve had worse,” Lilith lied. This was the other seed of guilt that had formed in her, the brief moment when she had considered surrendering to stop the torture.
“You’re going to find it difficult to walk for several days, and I wouldn’t advise you think about sex for several weeks.”
“That isn’t something I need to worry about,” Lilith said blandly. The hands on her hurt, but at no time did she wince.
“Yes, men are so overrated.” If Anastasia was hoping for a smile from Lilith, she didn’t get one. The van they were in slowed and turned onto a regular road, traffic flowing in both directions.
“Thank you,” Lilith said.
“You’re welcome,” Dmitri responded dispassionately. He didn’t do this for thanks.
“You can get dressed now,” Anastasia said, passing over the coveralls. “I would also avoid any exercise for the next few days.” Donning the garments was difficult in the confined space of the truck, but Lilith managed it. She still found it incredible such an operation had been arranged.
If you are taken, do not expect rescue, had been the mantra throughout her training. What had changed?
Several miles now from the devastation they had left behind, Fedor finally closed his laptop and slapped its lid with satisfaction.
“The electricity is back up to that area. I have not been able to detect anything on the police channels.” Fedor had already restored all mobile phone signals by simply flipping a switch on the radio frequency jammer. If Lilith could see out of the back window, she would have been able to see a plume of smoke extending into the air.
Upon rescuing Lilith, Kosta had planted more explosives throughout the building as well as incendiary charges. By the time they had loaded Lilith into the truck, the MI6 safe house was no longer a house, the inside partly caved in and fire pouring from most of the windows. Anyone in the neighbourhood could now report the growing fire if they saw it. The house didn’t have many close neighbours which was why it had been chosen, so the inevitable emergency response, either from the first responders or the safe house owners was an unknown variable time-wise.
Lilith knew he had enough time to put distance between his destroyed target and the truck they were in. The road they were on was free of surveillance cameras, the radius of their escape expanding with every minute. By the time their van appeared on the UK’s surveillance grid, it would be another anonymous vehicle amongst thousands.
45.
Silicon Valley, USA
Stone woke to find someone tapping him on the back of his head. He had fallen asleep at the table, the books he had been studying spread out before him. So engrossed was he becoming in his work, he was losing track of his own bodily rhythms. There was no way for him to tell night from day down here, the whole of his existence merging into a blur of research and writing.
“You think you have time to rest?” Kane said. There was menace in the voice, the promise of unspeakable violence present in every word.
“I’m sorry.” You have to at least let me sleep, Stone wanted to shout. He wanted to do more than that. If he had any courage left, he would have risen to his feet and screamed it into Kane’s face. But that would have meant consequences, punishment Stone didn’t want to have inflicted upon himself.
“I’m told you made progress,” Kane noted. He moved behind Stone and placed calloused hands on shoulders that shrunk under them. Digging his fingers in hard, Kane began to massage his prey. Too hard though, Stone wincing with every second of it. There was nothing therapeutic about this manipulation. “This book had better be a masterpiece.”
“I’m doing all I can,” Stone insisted. Kane tipped his head down so he could whisper into Stone’s ear.
“Ensure you do.” He let Stone go, to the author’s great delight. If he had not witnessed the black eyes, Stone might have wondered why Kane was so relentless in his harassment. But with Kane, you weren’t dealing with human emotions and desires. The man had a demon lodged inside him, and demons were there purely to torment and deprave the world.
Kane made to leave, but Stone found himself speaking. What are you doing? the little warning voice in the back of Stone’s mind said.
“I’d like to ask you something,” Stone said timidly.
“What did you say?” Kane stopped but he didn’t turn. His reaction indicated surprise rather than anger.
“For the purposes of my book, I would like to ask you something.”
“For your book? How the fuck could I be of help with that?”
“It’s just an idea I have. I’ve been meaning to raise it with Mr Horn but…” Stone trailed off as Kane span around. The black eyes were back, glaring at him, sucking Stone in, the fear mounting towards a peak of utter hysteria.
“But you have been too gutless?” That was it exactly. He’d wanted to speak to Kane, but at the same time, hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near him. Now that Kane was here once again, Stone had taken the chance he needed.
“Yes. That about sums it up.” Kane was an abomination, someone nobody should ever be unfortunate enough to meet. But he had insight nobody else possessed.
“Then ask. But tread carefully, Professor. My pliers are anxious to be reacquainted with you.” Horn had promised Stone a life of luxury once the book was done, but that was a lie. Once the book was complete, once Stone was no longer needed, then the author would be Kane’s to do with as he pleased. It was not unusual for Kane to take a disliking to someone, but he truly detested Stone. There was something about the writer that made Kane want to do bad things to him.
There was something else. In Kane’s view, the Professor being here was a mistake, but this was knowledge he would keep to himself. Kane did what he was told. He was no great mind in all this. He was merely a soldier, someone who was instructed what to do. The only original thoughts he could summon were around how to inflict pain. Kane would never amount to anything more than a useful servant and he was fine with that.
“I need to know what Hell is like.”
“Why? You will be there soon enough.”
“For the book. I need to have an accurate feel of what awaits those who descend there.” Kane stepped forward. For an instant, Stone thought he had made a grave error of judgement, but instead of attacking, Kane grabbed one of the chairs at the table and sat down wearily.
“You want to know what Hell is like? Okay.” Kane leaned forward. “All your books and your movies portray it as a place of heat and suffering. But no human could really comprehend what it is like to be there.” Hell was a place that Kane longed to return to. He didn’t feel complete walking around in this meat suit.
“That’s why I’m asking you.”
“A person’s character and crimes determine who goes to Hell. Every soul cast down there is tainted, unique in the suffering it receives. When you finally find yourself there, you will be alone surrounded by billions. You will be tortured with the knowledge that relief from your anguish is only a second away, and you will face this for an eternity. You will be given hope that is never fulfilled, and you will experience what you inflicted on others a trillion-fold.”
“But I haven’t done anything,�
� Stone protested. What crimes had he committed to warrant all this?
“You’ve slighted people in your time. Hurt them. And the book you now willingly write will condemn millions to the Pit. You will suffer damnation that will make even the Fallen weep. Every second will feel like an eternity, every sensation expanded beyond your comprehension. It will be relentless, on flesh that never dies and constantly renews, on a mind which will be forever spared the escape of madness. And during every agonising moment, every doubt, anxiety and insecurity you have ever experienced will be thrust upon you. You will think you have discovered fear and agony, only to realise you aren’t even close. And that will go on until the universe finally winks out of existence, perhaps beyond then.”
“Christ,” Stone said. His face had blanched, nausea rising in him.
“He can’t help you. And if you throw up, I’m going to make you eat it. Are we done?”
“I would like to ask you one more question if I may?” Stop whilst you are ahead, you idiot.
“Wow, you really want to push this. Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”
“What was Hell like for you?”
“Do you know what my role is in Hell?” Kane asked. He wanted this to all be over so he could get back there. He would make a point of spending some quality time with Stone when he too arrived.
“No.”
“I am the chief torturer. I spend my time discovering new ways to rip and tear the hapless apart. For me, Hell is a joy for I enjoy what I do. So I am not the correct demon to ask because so many of them adore visiting this reality of yours. Why is this important?”
“I’m creating something that needs a solid foundation. All the books around us were written by men who were merely guessing what existence is like after we die. I don’t want to get it wrong.”
“You’re damned right you don’t,” Kane confirmed. “Getting it wrong will be detrimental to your health.”
“From what I’m hearing, it sounds like the other demons don’t have your advantages.”
“Most demons are tormented as much as the humans. That is why so many of us are constantly breaking out. Satan permits this, knowing they will eventually return. The punishment they receive is worth the respite Earth gives them. For a brief moment, a demon can experience the flesh they crave to defile. We hate you for what you have, and that will drive us to unprecedented horrors when we are eventually unleashed. I long for the day because I will know that I will be soon to return to the comfort I crave.”
“Why?” Stone begged. “What has humanity ever done to deserve this?”
“Your existence is enough to send your average demon into a rage of destruction. You were given everything and you squandered it all. You seduced the Fallen ones, and made them rise up against their creator. It is only natural that Satan and his ilk created creatures to torment and molest your species. We were made to hate your kind, to enjoy your suffering.” It was hard to comprehend that demons were victims in all this, but they had little in the way of choice in the manner in which they acted.
“Do you know anything about the Fallen?”
“They rule. That’s enough for any demon to know. I’m getting impatient now.” Was Stone imagining it, or were the muscles under Kane’s skin rippling?
“I’m sorry,” Stone begged. He’d pushed it and not suffered for it. At least not yet. There was still plenty of time for that. Kane stood, tired of the interaction, tired of the meekness of the man before him. What use were humans except to be vessels upon which anguish could be delivered?
“This book better be good,” Kane warned. “If it’s not, I will make you eat ever copy we print.”
46.
London, UK
“This is where we leave you,” Dmitri said with a hint of regret. He admired the strength of the woman they had rescued. She was made of steel like those soldiers he had gone to war with. Just like those he now fought alongside. With warriors like Lilith in the battle, how could they lose?
The van stopped.
“Just in case,” Anastasia said, passing Lilith a baseball cap. “Remember you will need to see a doctor at some point. Those ribs will need binding. And I suggest you have an internal examination.” Something to look forward to, thought Lilith.
When Lilith opened the back door of the van, she knew instantly where she was. She had been here enough times to recognise the street.
“What will you do now?” Lilith looked at the people who had rescued her, felt a camaraderie with them. These were people of discipline and fortitude. Like her, every one of them was willing to die for what they believed in.
“Within two hours we will be on a plane. It would not be wise for us to hang around. After all, what we did was effectively an act of war.” If Dmitri and his team were discovered, they would have no choice but to fight their way out. They could not be taken alive. Although their bodies might provide some future investigator information, there was nothing on them to provide a link to Russia. They were ghosts, their fingerprints stripped by repeated applications of caustic agents. It was highly unlikely that any western intelligence agency would have their faces on file. Before joining the FSB Wolf Squads, they had all been nobodies as far as the west was concerned. Now they were the best weapon the Russians had in the coming war that would truly end all wars.
Lilith stuck out her hand and it was shaken in turn by Dmitri and Anastasia. Fedor and the other two ignored her.
“God’s speed,” Lilith added before stepping out of the truck. When she closed the back door, the vehicle sped away without delay, a splutter of exhaust lingering in the air briefly. Apart from a solitary man walking his dog, Lilith was once again alone as she had been most of her adult life. Now was not a time for solitude though. She needed assistance to recover from the injuries she had sustained.
To her right rose up the church, a building all the Inquisitors sent to London were acquainted with.
She knew there were no surveillance cameras in this location, the ones erected by the local council at the end of the street always seeming to mysteriously malfunction. Every time an effort was made to repair them, their operation could be counted in mere hours before they were once again sabotaged. A local gang was suspected of being the culprit, attacking other cameras in the area too. This was not an uncommon occurrence in the more deprived areas of the nation’s capital.
That gang received an anonymous payment from an unknown benefactor every month, but only if those cameras were kept out of commission.
Even with Big Brother blinded in this location, she kept her head bowed and made her way up the steps to the impressive oak door. The steps were awkward for her to navigate, her crotch aching, the limbs stiff and sore. It would take her a while before she was back into full fitness and such recuperation would wear on her psychologically. She hated being kept from the war against Satan.
The church possessed the sort of door you wanted to be behind in times of crisis. Should the zombie apocalypse ever descend upon the world, the rampaging hordes would never be able to breach such an obstacle.
It surprised Lilith the Russians had known to bring her here. Although she was grateful for the rescue, it seemed risky for this location to be given out. This church was the backbone of the Inquisitor base of operations in the south of the UK, its location used for nearly two hundred years. Unlike so many churches that had been closed down recently, converted into flats or other developments, this church would never close so long as the Inquisitors existed.
The heavy door resisted her at first, but finally yielded. Lilith slipped inside, a strange feeling of safety filling her.
The church wasn’t the most impressive she had ever seen. It didn’t possess vast pillars and arches, and the stained-glass windows were small compared to some of the great works Lilith had witnessed. Compared to the cathedrals she had visited during her time, it was a modest affair, designed to be a place of worship for the average follower of Christ. It had seen marriages, christenings and sermons,
and now it was witness to an injured Inquisitor.
No demon had ever set foot across its threshold, the walls and doors etched with invisible ancient symbols that would cause the defilers of man to howl in agony. The demons sometimes avoided the holy places, but sometimes they grew bold and attacked the house of God, no matter what religion was represented.
Approaching the stoop, she dipped her fingers into the holy water and made the sign of the cross. The Hollywood depiction of holy water was technically true. Whilst vampires were a thing of myth, holy water would sizzle if touched by anything infested with the will of Satan. It represented the purity of God, the correct blessing altering the crystalline structure the water could form. For those Inquisitors without Lilith’s ability to see the darkness, this was a way for them to tell if the body they were about to slay contained the infestation. It was important to note that sizzling wasn’t burning. There was no pain inflicted, and it was merely used to root out the demonic menace. Holy water was a tool developed by the Inquisition, and found itself implemented into normal religious practice.
The Inquisitors had infiltrated most aspects of the Catholic Church, whilst managing to keep their existence a secret from the masses.
For the first time in weeks, Lilith said a silent prayer to herself and to her God. Her fortune had been mixed, and it was not beyond her belief to think she had been sent a message of sorts. Had she been getting complacent of late? Or was it the fact she had started to enjoy the slaying too much? If you found pleasure in what you did, it risked becoming an addiction rather than a calling.
Two days ago, she wouldn’t have thought she had anything to confess, now she wasn’t so sure. Although she couldn’t be blamed for the British surveillance state finally uncovering her identity, perhaps she could be blamed for allowing her arrogance to develop.
