Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Complete Boxset: Books 1 - 3

by Benjamin Laskin

  “Kohai,” he rasped. “It’s okay. My work here is done.”

  “No, Captain,” I insisted, my eyes welling with tears. “It is just beginning. We have so much to do!”

  The captain opened his eyes, a small smile on his lips. “I’m very proud of you, Kohai. You will make a great leader. All you need to learn is in our holy books. Study. The answers will come. Say goodbye to Cyrus. Tell him…tell him we will meet again one day.” He swallowed hard and said, “Chazak, chazak v’nitchazek.” Be strong, be strong, and may we be strengthened.

  His eyes closed, and he was gone.

  I lifted my hands and suddenly felt very tired. I looked at Virgil. He was still trying to bring the captain around. He was working so hard that sweat diamonds rolled from his brow.

  “Virgil,” I said, gently removing his hands from the captain. “Virgil, that’s enough. He’s with HaShem now.”

  Virgil raised his eyes to mine. “I’m sorry, Kohai.” He hugged me.

  “Virgil, Kohai,” Hera blubbered. “Can…can you help Madam Grace? I-I don’t know how.”

  I turned to Grace’s body and passed my hand over her. She too was gone. I shook my head sadly. Hera fell upon Grace’s chest and sobbed.

  Sett knelt beside his old comrade and looked upon his still-glowing body. “Thank you, my friend,” he said. “Thank you for saving my eternal soul.”

  He bent down to kiss Volk on the forehead and was jolted backwards ten feet through the air.

  “Whoa!” Perseus exclaimed. “What the hell was that?”

  The glow was gone from Volk’s body, and Sett was twitching on the ground.

  Virgil and I had loaded the captain with so much energy, that as soon as Sett’s lips touched his forehead, the energy leapt from Volk into the commander. We all stood in awe as the two bullets that were lodged in his body popped out, and the wounds healed before our eyes. Sett lay motionless for a long minute, and then came to. He sat up and checked where his wounds had been. He looked at us in wonderment.

  “You okay?” Perseus asked. He offered Sett a hand and pulled him to his feet.

  Sett moved his arms and legs, as if trying them out for the first time. He nodded. “Never better, actually.”

  Virgil walked over to Hera and gently consoled her.

  “I never got to thank her,” she snuffled. “I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. It happened so fast!”

  “I know,” Virgil said. He helped her up and let her cry on his shoulder.

  By now Lieutenant Ophion and the rest of the team had returned from securing the disgronifiers and were gathered around us. In the distance where the station had stood, I saw a plume of smoke like a giant, white feather.

  The squad bowed their heads and choked back their tears. Most hadn’t known Captain Volk long, but during the short time that they had spent with him, they knew that they were in the presence of a remarkable leader and cupid.

  My grief was great, magnified by the hush that fell around me. When Cyrus was banished and sent to Earth in what at the time was considered certain death, I at least had Captain Volk to turn to. He was like a father to me, and his presence a constant comfort. Now, Heaven’s two mightiest cupid angels were gone, and there was no one who could take their places. Nor had we known a celestial like Grace before. If this was victory, then I didn’t want it.

  Perseus scratched his head and said, “Why are they still here? How come they didn’t goop? We all go to Goopsville eventually.”

  “Not angels,” I answered.

  “So, what do we do with them?”

  “Does the yeshiva have a cemetery?” Sett asked. “I think he’d rather be buried there with his teachers.”

  Virgil and I exchanged befuddled glances. He said, “Kohai, do you remember seeing a cemetery?”

  I surveyed the yeshiva grounds in my mind’s eye. “No.”

  “That’s weird,” Virgil said. “Me neither. What did they do with them? I’m sure they weren’t cremated. We don’t do that.”

  And then, to our utter mystification, we got our answer.

  The great cupids, the sages of our parcel of Heaven, were not like those of the Academy. They had lived exemplary lives; they deserved exemplary deaths.

  We marveled as Captain Volk sat up and then rose to his feet, a brilliant, shimmering white light emanating from his entire person. He stood in full measure, his hands at his sides, a distant look in his gleaming eyes. He bowed low as if gathering his strength for something, and then he let out a terrific wail.

  Startled, the throng of cupids standing around him leaped backwards. Then fright turned to awe as three pairs of huge, glorious wings sprouted and unfurled from his back. Without a word, he knelt beside Grace, picked her up, and draped her over his shoulder.

  Volk turned to me, smiled, and said, “Baruch Shem K’vod Malchuto L’olam Va’ed.” Blessed is the name of His Glorious Kingdom forever and ever.

  With that, Captain Volk flapped his great feathery wings and lifted off the ground. We watched in stupefaction as he rose into the air and soared from sight.

  “Holy shit,” Perseus said. “Do I have a lot of catching up to do!”

  Sett said, “I guess that explains why the yeshiva doesn’t have a cemetery.”

  37

  Slip-sliding Away

  “Gideon, I’m worried. Cyrus might be a resourceful bucket of surprises, but that water is freezing, he’s naked, and he has bullets in his butt. He lost a lot of blood too.”

  Gideon strained to see across the lake. The helicopter was long gone, resting on the lake’s bottom, but no sign of Cyrus. It was drizzling, foggy, and both he and Malkah were shivering. He looked at his watch.

  Malkah’s phone chimed. She checked it and found a text from Amit. She read it and turned to Gideon. “Amit says they should be here soon.”

  “I’m not leaving without Cyrus,” Gideon declared.

  “I know.”

  “Why did you agree to work for them in the first place?” Gideon asked, questions about Malkah’s true identity still nagging at him.

  “I told you, I was recruited.”

  “But you didn’t have to.”

  “No, but Zeeva was very persuasive.”

  “What do you mean? Did she threaten or blackmail you or something?”

  “No, nothing like that. She explained the world to me. Until I had met Zeeva I was very naive. I had never given the world much serious thought, like most young women. When I visited her at her home that first evening, we stayed up all night drinking tea and talking. At one point she retrieved a thick folder and opened it up on the kitchen table. Inside was the real world.”

  “The real world?”

  “Part of it, anyway. It was classified information, stuff nobody would ever see or hear about. The world was far more screwed up and dangerous than I could ever have imagined. She showed me the face of evil. If she believed that I could actually do something to fight it, then that is what I wanted to do.”

  “Pretty gutsy of you.”

  Malkah shrugged. “I never felt gutsy.”

  “What did you do between then and now? You hinted at various missions.”

  “Hinted, and that’s all I can tell you. You worked for different intelligence agencies. You understand.”

  “All right, but tell me, you were gone for long stretches of time, yet you continued to work at the deli. Did Saul know?”

  “No. Or, if he suspected anything, he never let on. He was one of your Lamed-Vavniks, after all. So, maybe he knew in some intuitive way, you think?”

  “I don’t know what they know.”

  “Yes, well, Saul would let me go and take me back every time, whether he needed the help or not. I think I was like a daughter to him. For me, it was also a good cover.”

  “Some of those men you dated, where any of them part of an operation?”

  She hesitated, and then answered, “All of them.”

  “Did you ever have to—?”

  “Sleep
with them? That’s for amateurs. They were small fry, but even the small fries usually know more than they think they do. I could get a surprising amount of intel out of them. And once I did, I was done with them.”

  “Bitch,” Gideon said with a grin.

  “I tried not to be, but yeah, I’m sure they thought so.”

  “And me?” Gideon asked. “Was I one of your targets?”

  “You approached me, remember?” Malkah said.

  “Yeah, but you just happened to be loitering in that hallway, remember?”

  “Coincidence…or fate, as you like to insist. I tried to ditch you, you nudnik. Now look what you’ve done.” Malkah smiled wanly, and shivered. She rubbed her arms. “Hold me,” she said. “I’m freezing.”

  Gideon put his arms around Malkah and together they stood at the lake’s edge, hoping for a sign that Cyrus was still alive.

  “Okay, now I’m worried,” Gideon said. “Cyrus’s miracles don’t take this long.”

  “Hey buddy.”

  “Hey.”

  “You really got yourself into a mess.”

  “I think I’m a goner. It’s farther and a lot colder than I thought.”

  “Keep pulling. You can make it.”

  “I have two bullets in my ass, Volk.”

  “That doesn’t help, does it?”

  “No. But, I’m so cold I can hardly feel them.”

  “Well, at least you’re not in the ocean. No sharks to smell your blood.”

  “I’m thankful for small mercies,” Cyrus said, shivering and struggling for air. “How did things go on your end?”

  “Heaven is back in our hands,” Volk said.

  “Baruch HaShem. Kohai?”

  “He’s good. You’d have been proud of him, C. He’s the real deal.”

  “Virgil?”

  “Same. He’s a big hero now. He dueled with Ajax and put him down, David style.”

  “I wish I could have seen it. Sett and the others?”

  “They all made it. A few injured, but they’ll be okay.”

  “Anyone do teshuva?”

  “Perseus and a few others saw the light at the last minute and repented.”

  “Perseus, eh? I’m glad. I always liked him.” Cyrus sucked desperately for air between shivers. “Grace?”

  “She didn’t make it, C.”

  “Oh…I’m sorry. I know she meant a lot to you. She was special.”

  “Yeah…”

  “V?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “I can’t see the shore. How much farther do I got?”

  “Almost there,” Volk lied.

  “I’m not going to make it.”

  “Sure you are, buddy.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think so. I’ve lost a lot of blood. I’m really tired. You know how I know I’m finished?”

  “No.”

  “‘Cuz I’m delirious. You can’t be out here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Unless you’re talking to me from onshore somewhere. Are you?”

  “No.”

  “So where are you?”

  “Up here.”

  Cyrus stopped paddling. He was unaware that his strokes had become little more than his arms slapping at the water. He had no kick, was blue from the cold, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. Barely treading water, Cyrus looked up. He saw his friend hovering just above, enveloped by a supernal glow, his great, white wings slowly flapping.

  “V…? Is that really you?”

  “Yeah, buddy.”

  “You have wings, and I can see you. Humans can’t see angels.”

  “You can if I want you to.”

  “Since when can you do that?”

  “Since today.”

  “Nice wings. Where did you get them?”

  “HaShem gave them to me.”

  “Baruch HaShem,” Cyrus said in expiration, and then slipped from consciousness into the deep waters of the lake.

  38

  Fishy Stories

  Malkah turned and saw a brown utility van come speeding towards them. “They’re here.”

  The two of them walked towards the gravel road beyond the shoreline.

  “I can’t leave him out there,” Gideon said. “You go without me. I’ll find my own way out.”

  Malkah didn’t reply. She didn’t know what to say.

  The van pulled to a stop and two large men got out. Amit was bald and burly; Tomer was lean with long, sandy blond hair tied in a ponytail. Both were dressed as park rangers and had guns holstered at their sides.

  Malkah jogged over and kissed the men on their cheeks.

  “Gideon,” Malkah said. “This is Tomer, and that’s Amit.”

  The men exchanged greetings and shook hands.

  “Aren’t we missing someone?” Amit said, eying the clothes under Gideon’s arm and sensing something was wrong.

  “He’s out there somewhere,” Malkah said, choking back her tears.

  “What do you mean out—? In the lake?”

  Malkah frowned. “Yes.”

  Gideon said, “He insisted we dispose of the helicopter to cover our tracks.”

  “So he sank it?” Amit said.

  Gideon nodded. “He used the remaining fumes to drop it into the center of the lake. He’s swimming to shore.”

  “When was that?” Tomer asked.

  Gideon checked his watch. “About an hour ago.”

  “He’s in a wet suit, I take it.”

  Gideon shook his head. “Boxer shorts with a bullet in each cheek.”

  “What?” Amit said. “That water is ice cold. Sorry, but your friend is probably deep blue dead.”

  “Maybe,” Gideon said, “but I’m not leaving without him.”

  Amit and Tomer exchanged exasperated glances, and then looked at Malkah.

  “Give us a little more time,” she pleaded.

  “We’re behind schedule as is,” Tomer said. “Every minute we wait means the enemy will be that much closer to figuring out what went down.”

  “Another thirty minutes,” Malkah pleaded.

  “No can do,” Amit said.

  Gideon said, “Then go. I’ll find my own way out. I’ve done this before.”

  “We have strict orders,” Tomer said.

  Gideon snarled. “What are you going to do, shoot me?”

  “If I have to,” Amit said. He wasn’t smiling. “There is plenty of room in that lake for a second idiot.”

  “Now, now,” Malkah said. “Gideon, Amit doesn’t mean that.”

  “Look,” Tomer said. “I’ll make you a deal. Maybe your friend got disoriented. The cold, the fog—it’s possible. We’ll make one full pass around the lake. If we spot him, great. If not, then he didn’t make it.”

  Malkah looked at Gideon expectantly. “That sounds fair, Gideon. Tomer is right. If we don’t see him, then too much time would have passed. He couldn’t possibly have…” She didn’t want to finish the sentence.

  Gideon gritted his teeth, and after a moment said, “Fine, but drive slowly, and we end up right here.”

  Amit nodded in confirmation.

  The four climbed into the van and headed off, Amit at the wheel. Malkah and Gideon wrapped woolen blankets around their shivering bodies and did their best to keep an eye out as the van proceeded slowly around the water’s edge.

  When they arrived at the opposite shore, Gideon and Tomer got out, and standing on a bolder, scanned the foggy lake and shore with binoculars. Everything was deathly calm, and still no sign of Cyrus. Tomer headed back to the van.

  “Let’s go,” he called back irritably. “We’ll make a pass around the other half.”

  Gideon gave Tomer the Israeli gesture of pinched fingers, and said in Hebrew, “Rega.” Wait.

  He wondered if he was seeing things. Gideon wiped the lens of the binoculars and looked again. Through a break in the fog he thought he saw…a rowboat?

  “I see something!” he shouted excitedly.

  Tomer jogg
ed back to join him. He lifted his binoculars to his eyes.

  A small rowboat pierced the fog. Paddling it was a man in a yellow raincoat and cap. It was headed right towards them.

  “A fisherman,” Gideon said.

  “I only see one person,” Tomer said. “It’s an old man.”

  Gideon hopped off the bolder and ran to the edge of the lake. He waved his hands and shouted, “Ahoy there!”

  “Ahoy?” Tomer said.

  Gideon shrugged. He didn’t know what else to holler.

  Amit and Malkah hopped out of the van and ran to join them. Malkah prayed under her breath that Cyrus was in the little boat.

  “Some crazy old guy,” Tomer said to Amit.

  Everyone waited impatiently as the boat neared. When it was a few feet out, Gideon charged into the water to help drag the boat to shore. Upon catching the front of the boat he yelled, “He’s here!”

  Gideon pulled the boat in and Tomer and Amit helped Cyrus to shore. Cyrus was wrapped in a blanket, blue-lipped and shivering.

  “Thank God, you’re alive!” Malkah exclaimed. She ran to Cyrus, threw her arms around him, and kissed him. “Are you okay?”

  “A little waterlogged,” Cyrus chattered.

  Malkah turned to the stranger in the rowboat, “Thank you. You saved his life.”

  The old man, bearded with kindly gray peepers, smiled. “I almost threw him back,” he joked. “Not good eating.”

  “What are you doing out here on such a miserable day?” Amit asked, suspicious.

  “Bass like miserable days, and I like bass. What’s your excuse?”

  Amit didn’t reply.

  The old man smiled knowingly. “I found him…floundering.” He laughed at his pun. “He had two bullets in his tush. Did one of you put them there?”

  “Had?” Gideon said.

  Cyrus said, “Dr. Tishbee operated on me in the boat.”

  “Doctor?” Tomer said. “You don’t look like a doctor.”

  “Retired,” the old man rejoined, giving the longhaired Tomer the once-over. “And you don’t look like a park ranger either, sonny.”

  “You always go fishing with a medical bag?” Amit asked, still skeptical.

  “When was the last time you went fishing, punk? Ever see what’s in a tackle box? I got everything I need in there, including a first-aid kit in case I cut myself or something.”