Alexis lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders in defiance. “What are you waiting for, then? Don’t expect me to beg you.”
Nathan stepped closer. He winced in pain and said, “I wouldn’t. You have a ledger. Tell me where it is?”
A confused look flitted across her face before Alexis answered, “You mean Spagnuolo’s ledger? Go to hell, Miller. I’ll never tell you.”
Nathan moved another step closer. He threatened, “You will.”
“Or what?” Alexis asked, “You going to kill me? You’re in no condition to make threats, Miller. But don’t worry, when I don’t return to Union City, the ledger will be released to the world. You can read it along with everybody else.”
Nathan coughed up more blood and briefly bent over at the waist. Swinging the gun back up, he kept Alexis in place. In a hoarse voice, he said, “You’re bluffing.”
“I suppose you’ll find out, won’t you?” Alexis asked, “Did you think I trusted you? That I didn’t see this coming? I took steps to ensure your little Cabal will suffer.”
Nathan sneered at her. “The ledger is worthless, sweetheart.”
“And yet, you want it.” Alexis smirked at him. “Maybe not so worthless after all.”
Nathan moved to within ten feet of her. “I promised it to a friend, and I intend to pay my debt.” He raised his aim to her head. “Last chance. Tell me where it is, and I’ll make this painless.” Alexis set her jaw. She laughed under her breath. “What’s funny?” Nathan asked.
“Your friend.” Alexis chuckled. “Tell Wurth he can join you in hell. After he exposes all your secrets that is.”
“She’s lying,” Quinn hissed in his ear, “No more stalling. End this now before it’s too late.”
Nathan said, “Have it your way. I’ll find the ledger without you.”
“Not before it finds you.”
Nathan shook his head. “You wish you had arranged all that, but you’re far too reckless to have ever planned ahead.” He watched a lone tear run down her cheek.
Alexis wiped it away. “Fuck you, Miller.”
“Do it!” Quinn screamed in his ear.
Nathan pulled the trigger three times. The shots echoed in the courtyard. Two struck Alexis in the chest and one in the neck. She collapsed in dust that quickly turned a hideous sanguine. Nathan hobbled next to her and stood over her while she breathed her last.
He watched her eyes widen before the hole in her neck pumped the last of her life out of her. In that moment, Nathan imagined her seeing Quinn and learning what he had counselled. Nathan lowered to one knee and closed her lifeless eyes to the world. He whispered, “He’s betrayed you now too.”
Silence reigned inside Nathan’s head. He looked around the courtyard and found no sign of Quinn anywhere. He was gone. A thudding noise rose in the distance and drew Nathan’s attention. He looked to the horizon and watched a sleek black helicopter approach over the castle wall. Stumbling back to his feet he moved away from Alexis and fumbled to reload his weapon.
The chopper reached the courtyard and hovered as a side door slid open. Three lines dropped to the ground. Soldiers dressed in black combat armor rappelled down each line. Their faces covered by re-breathers—their intent unknown.
68
Archer pressed his back against the stone wall. Notching an arrow, he kicked the rotten wooden door open with his heel and hurried into the stairwell. Darkness filled the space. Lit only by one guttering candle halfway up, wild shadows danced over the steps.
He tightened his grip on his bow and nodded to Drachen as he stepped in behind him. Archer squinted into the gloom but saw no target. The stone steps were slick with humidity, and slippery to mount. Archer heard Drachen slip twice and swear under his breath. His curse echoed up the stairwell where it was swallowed by the shadows.
Archer trained his aim ahead and carefully climbed the steps. At the midway point, he glanced back at Drachen. The candlelight flickered over his features and lent a sinister air to him. Archer whispered, “Can you really cure my daughter?”
Drachen looked to the titanium arrow notched in the bow and answered, “I told you we could.”
Archer blocked his passage higher. “If you can’t, if you lied so I would lead you here, tell me now and I will not harm you.”
Drachen looked him in the eye. “You help me retrieve the item I came for, and we cure your daughter. That’s the deal.” He gestured to the top of the stairs. “Can we get moving now?”
Archer watched him in the sparse light a moment longer, then resumed the climb. At the top, they faced a heavy oak door with wrought iron strap hinges. Light crept into the stairway from around the edges of the frame. He crouched on the landing and waited for Drachen to catch up.
Drachen slipped off the safety of his assault rifle with a click. Holding up one hand, he counted down from three to one and then gripped the iron ring of the door handle. He threw his weight into it, and the door opened. Sunlight poured down the stairwell.
Drachen led them outside onto the rampart. In the moment it took for their eyes to adjust to the light, a hand grabbed Drachen around the wrist. He reacted to the touch and drove the stock of his rifle into the old man’s face. The hand fell away as the old man collapsed to the ground.
Archer ducked around them and aimed his arrow down at the fallen man.
“Fuck.” Drachen shook his hand. “It burns.” Archer watched him stumble to one knee and drop his rifle. It clattered across the stone floor. “What…have…?” Drachen crumpled to the ground in obvious pain.
Archer held his aim on the old man who sat against the low wall of the rampart. Blood trickled down his chin, and he smiled. He started to rise, and Archer loosed the arrow. It struck him through the foot and pinned him to the ground. He howled. Archer reached for another razor tip arrow in his quiver, and shot it through the old man’s hand, pinning him to the low wall.
Archer felt eyes on him and whipped around. His fingers touched the fletching of an arrow but stopped short of pulling it out. Thirty feet away, he saw Rebecca staring back at him. She wore a flowing cloak and a hood that obscured her face, but Archer would know her anywhere.
He stepped toward her. “Rebecca?” his voice broke. “What has he done to you?”
Her hands appeared from within the cloak and pushed the hood back off her head. She cast him a look of malevolence that broke his heart. Hije stepped forward and allowed the cloak to fall off her shoulders. Beneath it she wore kavendium weave battle armor. “Father,” she said, “You should’ve let Grim touch you—your end would’ve been kinder.”
Archer let the arrow drop into place in his quiver. He lowered his bow and said, “I won’t fight you Rebecca.”
Hije lifted two titanium escrima sticks from her belt. She twirled them around her hands. “Then this will be easy.”
Letting out a primal scream, Hije charged him. She led with her right, and Archer blocked the escrima stick with his bow. Her left found a home beneath his ribs. Archer grunted and twirled out of her grasp. Hije struck another right against Archer’s bow, the impact singing on the air. She tried another left, but Archer was ready. He ducked and rolled beneath her strike. Once again, they changed positions on the rampart.
Hije twirled her escrima sticks again.
“Rebecca.” Archer pleaded. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I can cure you. Bryce needs his big sister. Let me help you.”
She stalked back and forth in front of him. “Do I look like I’m sick? I don’t need your help.”
“This isn’t you, Rebecca.”
She stopped and glared at him. “My name is Hije.” Another twirl of her weapons, and she charged. “You shouldn’t have come here!”
Hije swung her right low, aiming for Archer’s knees. He leapt up to avoid the strike, and her left escrima stick connected with his shoulder. He cried out and took a step back. She came at him with a flurry of strikes. He blocked each one with his bo
w until he saw an opening and pushed back. Archer rammed his bow forward and rapped it off Hije’s knuckles. Her right escrima stick fell from her grip and clattered along the stone rampart.
She tossed her remaining stick between her hands and swung for Archer’s chin. He ducked backward to avoid the blow, and Hije kicked him in his exposed stomach. Archer scrambled backward. He brought his bow up just in time to block another flurry of attacks. Each impact rung out a deranged symphony.
Three gunshots sounded from the courtyard below. Archer took advantage of Hije’s momentary distraction and swept her legs. She fell hard onto the stone—her last escrima stick rolling away. Archer pinned her down with his bow. “Stop this, Rebecca! You’re my daughter. Come home, where you belong.”
Hije struggled to break free, but Archer’s weight was too much for her to move. She lay still a moment. Her pitiless expression tore at his heart. Archer pleaded with her. “Think about Bryce. He’s already lost a mother, you want him to lose a sister too?”
Archer felt the sharp pain under his ribs as she stuck a knife in him and twisted it for good measure. He lifted off her, and she rolled away. Their eyes locked. The eyes he knew and loved since she was born were no longer staring back at him. Twisted by hate, they were unrecognizable.
Hije hissed, “This isn’t over.”
A thudding sounded over the castle wall. Archer glanced away to see a helicopter arrive. He turned back, and Hije had vanished. Archer knew he wouldn’t find her again. Slowly, he returned to Drachen’s side and watched as the copter lowered three men to the courtyard. In a gap between crenellations, Archer saw Alexis prone in a pool of blood.
The chopper roared closer and hovered above the rampart. Another man rappelled down. He unclipped from the line and approached them. Archer held an arrow on him.
He spoke around the re-breather. The device gave his voice a mechanical quality. “Commander Jake Moss with the Department of Supernatural Affairs. Lower your weapon please.” Archer did not comply. “We’re here to help. My Hunt Kill Squad is the best there is. Either one of you Drachen?”
Archer lowered his bow an inch. He nodded toward Drachen. “He’s been hurt.”
Moss turned his head toward Grim. The dark goggles hid his eyes and all expression. “Did he touch him?”
“Yes,” Archer said.
Moss retrieved a syringe and vial from a pouch. “Curare poisoning.” He handed the kit to Archer. “Here’s the antidote. You hurt?” Archer shook his head. “Give him a dose. Get him on his feet and follow me. Time to end this madness.”
69
The soldiers fanned out across the courtyard. One headed to the gate, one hurried to the far side, and the last one approached Nathan. They each held their weapons at the ready.
Nathan took aim at the approaching soldier. A helmet, dark goggles, and the re-breather completely hid his face. Nathan coughed and stumbled from the piercing pain in his side. The soldier spoke through his mask in a mechanical voice. “Lower your weapon. We’re part of an HK Squad deployed by the DSA.”
Nathan winced. “That supposed to mean something to me?”
“Are you Drachen?”
Nathan shook his head and pointed toward the rampart. “He went that way.”
The soldier tilted his head and seemed to look behind Nathan. He motioned with his weapon. “What happened here?”
Nathan glanced back at Alexis’ body. “Hostile’s got her.” He found it disconcerting not being able to see the soldier’s expression—to know if his lie was believed.
The soldier turned away and hollered to his men. “Weapons hot! Possible sniper!” Back to Nathan, he asked, “You hurt?”
Nathan coughed. “I’ve been better.”
Daylight vanished for a moment as a huge shadow moved across the yard. A gargantuan man landed in the center with an earth shaking whump. The air grew silent. The behemoth kicked at the dirt the way a mad bull would before charging. He lumbered forward a step and grinned. “Toy soldiers.”
The solider hollered, “It’s Brutalis! Open fire!”
Caught in a deafening three-way crossfire, Brutalis growled. Nathan held back and watched the bullets strike him. The impacts gave rise to angry red welts and superficial cuts, but none could penetrate his skin. Brutalis threw his arms up and charged to his left toward the gate.
Nathan hobbled forward in time to watch Brutalis grab the terrified soldier around the neck. His giant hand wrapped clean around and snapped the bone like it was a twig. Brutalis tossed the lifeless body against the stone wall and set his sights on a new target.
The soldier, now beside Nathan, attached a device beneath the barrel of his assault rifle. He shouted, “Switch to sonics!” To Nathan, he said, “Cover your ears.”
Nathan cupped his hands over his ears and bent low. Brutalis charged at them. Nathan felt the impact of each stride in his joints as the ground shook. Both soldiers took aim and fired an ear-splitting wave of sonic noise. Nathan pressed his hands tighter to no avail—the screech could not be smothered.
Brutalis stumbled to a halt next to the hay wagon. The skin on his face blistered and peeled away. His fleshy lips pulled back from his teeth and his eyes turned red from burst blood vessels. The soldiers moved closer and kept up the barrage.
Nathan couldn’t think straight. He had enough and could only imagine what it was like being the target of the assault. Brutalis fell to one knee. His massive shoulders rippled in the onslaught of noise. He rose back to his feet. Hate flashed in his bloodshot eyes, and he reached out to grip a wagon wheel. Brutalis ripped it free and hurled it overhand at the far soldier. It connected flush with the startled man’s chest and snuffed his life out in a horrifying instant.
Brutalis leapt out of the sound wave and landed with a crash behind the final soldier. He grabbed him by the head and tossed him into the air. Brutalis caught the man by a leg in mid-air and gripped an arm with his other heavy hand. With a blood-curdling roar, he tore him limb from limb.
Gore splashed on the dry ground. He dropped the severed arm next to Nathan and towered over him. In shock, Nathan dropped his gun and raised his hands to the beast. Brutalis sneered. “Smart move.” He placed Nathan under his arm, and they leapt into the sky.
Archer draped Drachen’s arm over his shoulders to support his weight. Still recovering from the curare poisoning, Drachen’s feet dragged across the stonework. They followed Moss down a narrow staircase leading to the interior of the castle.
Once inside, a long corridor stretched out before them. Sunlight streamed in through slits on the courtyard side while the flickering light of fire poured in from the other side. Shadows moved wildly across the floor.
Archer hoisted Drachen higher and moved next to Moss. “There’s no cover here.”
Moss checked his weapon and gave a mechanical reply. “Nowhere for them to hide either.” He nodded toward Drachen. “If he can’t walk, leave him.”
Drachen pushed off Archer and scowled at Moss. He teetered a moment before his weakened muscles gave out. “Fuck!” Drachen cursed from the floor. “You should’ve killed the son of a bitch who did this.”
Archer helped prop Drachen against the wall. “Give him a weapon and leave him,” Moss said, “We don’t know what we’re facing and need to be at full strength.”
Drachen held his assault rifle across his lap and said, “Go. Soon as my legs work again, I’ll catch up. I’ll be fine here.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
The enticing feminine tone set them all on edge. Moss stepped away with his weapon at the ready. Archer notched an arrow and searched the corridor for the familiar voice. He glanced down at Drachen who fumbled his rifle while trying to lift it. He saw Drachen’s eyes widen before he screamed, “Behind you.”
Archer swung around and breathed in a cloud of pheromones released by Siren. He felt desire flood his senses. Her beauty filled his vision, and his heart longed to please her. His will
no longer his own, he awaited her instruction. Siren ran the back of her fingers along his cheek, and Archer was overcome with bliss. Her touch inflamed him.
She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. “Kill him for me.”
Archer raised his bow and loosed an arrow at Moss. It deflected off the kavendium plate on his forearm. Archer rushed him. He swung his bow at his head, but Moss dodged the blow. Archer followed up with a front kick to his stomach.
Moss fell back and rolled head over heels. He came up with a long metal prod in his hands. “Fight it off.”
“You will not hurt her.” Archer notched another arrow. “I will kill you where you stand.”
“Have it your way,” Moss said.
Archer fired the arrow, and Moss deflected it away. Fueled by rage, Archer dropped his bow and unsheathed two daggers from his belt. He spun them each once in his fingers, then charged. Moss parried and used his metal prod to block each strike. He rapped Archer’s knuckles and knocked one dagger free. Moss caught it before it struck the ground. Each now armed with a dagger, they circled one another.
Moss lashed out. Archer grabbed his wrist and slammed an elbow into his face shield. He then stabbed his dagger between the armor plates on Moss’ suit. Moss jerked back, but Archer kept on the attack. He brought his knee up twice into Moss’ stomach and followed it up with a left to his head. Moss fell to the side.
Archer pressed his advantage, driven on by Siren’s delighted applause. He aimed a kick at Moss’ chest, but it was blocked. Moss knocked his feet out and flipped Archer over top of him. Archer landed and heard Siren cry out. He regained his feet and watched Drachen toss her unconscious body to the floor before he followed suit.
Archer charged. “I’ll kill you!” Moss jabbed the prod into his side and ignited a thousand volt shock. Archer’s teeth clamped together. He convulsed and dropped to the ground.
Singularity Page 28
