The Heretic - 01

by Joseph Nassise

  Looked at through that perspective, the head of the lance was bathed in a brilliant golden glow, a glow so bright that Cade had to turn his face away to shield his eyes from its intensity.

  Returning his vision to normal, Cade stepped away from the display case. Turning, he found the Preceptor watching him closely.

  “Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Stop doubting, and believe,†the older man said softly.

  Cade didn’t need to be a biblical scholar to recognize the passage regarding the Apostle Thomas, but he pretended he hadn’t heard it. He wasn’t about to argue faith with a man who hadn’t walked the paths he’d walked, hadn’t seen the things he’d seen. The thought of a weapon with that kind of power in the hands of the Necromancer made his skin crawl. To have it fall into the hands of the Adversary was unthinkable.

  Duncan finally arose, his impromptu prayers done, and rejoined them by the door.

  “What now?†he asked.

  Cade caught the Preceptor’s eye. “In the end, Stone probably told them what they wanted to know, you realize.â€

  The Preceptor nodded. “Which means they’ll be coming for the Spear.â€

  “And anything else they can get their hands on,†Cade replied.

  “So do we move it now, while we have the chance?†Duncan wanted to know.

  Cade shook his head. “While the final decision is up to the Preceptor, I’d say no.

  We have adequate defenses here, and we know what we are up against. Moving the Spear simply puts us at a disadvantage. If there is a mole, and he were to leak the information, we’d be on unfamiliar ground, with only a small force to protect the weapon in the event of an attack. Staying here means we know the territory, can better anticipate and, therefore, prevent any action the Enemy might take.â€

  “I agree,†said the Preceptor. “How do you suggest we prepare the defenses?â€

  Cade gave it some thought. “Based on the attack in New York, we know they are con-juring up darker forces and using them to breach the gates. I’d expect them to do the same again; without knowing we’re on to them, they’ll continue using the same strategy they’ve employed in that past.†As he spoke, Cade headed back toward the control room, the other two men half a step behind. “We’ll need to be ready to deal with the supernatural side of their forces. First we get the troops we have on immediate alert.

  For all we know, the Council could strike at any moment, so we want to be protected to some degree in case they do. In the meantime I would suggest activating the rest of Echo Team and possibly Bravo as well. Once they get here, we should have enough men to hold the commandery indefinitely, provided we can neutralize their sorcery early in the game. We also need to get our own mystics into position ASAP. Have them raise the wards around the property, make it as difficult as possible for the Council to enter the grounds.â€

  “Very good. I’ll turn defense of the complex over to you, Knight Commander,â€

  said Michaels. “I’ll take active control of the Veritatis soldiers and coordinate the defense of the Reliquary with you as we move forward.â€

  The defense of the Spear had begun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Hours passed, and there was still no sign of the enemy. Daylight gave way to night. During the day Cade made regular visits along the defenses, to see that the men were ready.

  Still, the Enemy did not come.

  Frustrated by the long wait, Cade decided to take a walk. He hoped the exercise would clear the haze from his thoughts, refocus his attention on the matter at hand. Without any clear destination in mind, he reentered the house and began to make his way through the halls, lost in thought.

  A short time later he found himself in a quiet corridor somewhere in the depths of the lower levels. Around him, all was silent. Ahead of him, a soft light spilled forth from an open door at the end of the hallway.

  The light beckoned.

  Curious, Cade moved to investigate.

  As he got closer, he could see that the door opened onto a small chapel.

  It was a simple affair; several rows of wooden pews standing before an altar. A large wooden crucifix hung on the wall above. Off to the left, in a small alcove all its own, was a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mother hemmed in by scores of votive candles. It was their light that had captured Cade’s attention.

  He paused in the doorway, considering.

  It had been a long time since he’d spoken to God, longer still since he’d set foot in a place of worship. It was a situation he rarely considered consciously, though the irony of the truth of it in conjunction with his nickname among the rest of the Order was not lost on him.

  But there he stood in the doorway, too tired even to think up an excuse for turning away.

  So instead, he stepped inside.

  He walked between the rows of pews, running his hand along their polished wood surface.

  He skirted the altar, refusing to look up at the face on the cross, and moved to stand in front of the statue of the Virgin. Her gentle face looked down upon him, her expression frozen forever in compassion and pain, hope and loss. The light of the votive candles at her feet reflected off her smooth alabaster skin, softening the hard angles and cold stone.

  Looking down, Cade noted that one candle in the center of the group remained unlit.

  On impulse, he picked up the taper lying nearby and lit the candle.

  “For you, Gabbi. A light to guide you home.â€

  His voice sounded overly loud in the quiet of the room.

  His pain was echoed in that emptiness.

  The statue gazed down at him in sympathy and kindness but without any answers to the depths of his loss.

  Moving away from the alcove, he took a seat in one of the pews facing the altar, feeling out of place, a stranger in a strange land. Once, long ago, he’d believed in the divine grace of God, of his intended plan for the salvation of his people. He’d been a faithful churchgoer, finding comfort in the Sunday ceremonies, a balm for the chaos he faced each day on the force.

  All of that had been shattered on a summer night seven years ago.

  For the first time since entering the room, Cade allowed his gaze to rest on the figure nailed to the crucifix above the altar. Accusations and anger filled his heart as he stared at the face of the one known as the Lamb of God.

  Lamb is right, Cade thought. Off to the slaughter you went, without even a hand raised in resistance. Where, then, was the Lion of Judah? Where was the one who ordered the demons to flee, the one who faced the darkness of the Evil One?

  I’ll tell you where.

  Abandoned by your Father and left to die.

  Just as my Gabrielle was abandoned in her hour of need.

  Cade looked away. He’d lost his faith at the moment he’d lost her. Nothing since had managed to heal that wound. The events of the last few days had started it bleeding anew.

  Had it really been her? He struggled to come up with a definitive answer. His mind said yes; he’d heard her voice, seen her face, felt the love for him that flowed from her like a gentle caress. Yet his heart said no. It couldn’t be her. Believing it meant that instead of finding that promised salvation in the heaven she’d always believed in, she was left to roam that horrid wasteland on the other side of the barrier. A hundred different questions drifted through his mind. How long had she been there? What had happened to her since the night she’d been taken from his side? Why had it taken her so long to reveal herself to him? Had he done something to damn her for all eternity?

  And the biggest one of all.

  What caring God would send her there in the first place?

  He raised his face to the cross once more. You left us when we needed you most. Is it any wonder that I turned my back on You in return?

  T
he man hanging on the cross had no answer.

  Cade had not expected one.

  He’d long gotten used to working on his own.

  A glance at his watch told him he’d been in the chapel for half an hour. Knowing he’d be useless unless he managed to get some rest, Cade got up and walked out, headed to his quarters, never once looking back.

  Behind him, in the empty chapel, the candles were slowly snuffed out one by one as if by an unseen hand.

  Only the candle Cade himself had started was left to burn, its solitary light shining stead-fastly against the darkness that swept in to surround it.

  * * *

  Cade awoke.

  It was not the slow, gentle awakening he had known in his earlier years before the harsh realities of life had became commonplace. Nor was it the swift rise to alertness that had char-acterized his time as a STOP team leader. This was electrifying, brutal in its suddenness, like being dropped into icy cold water. It caused his heart to drum in his chest and his breath to come in short, sharp gasps.

  Wide-eyed, he stared for a moment at the nearest wall, his senses on high alert. He was overcome with the unmistakable feeling that there was someone in the room with him, close, very close; the hair on his back was standing stiffly upright as if charged by a massive amount of static electricity.

  Yet his danger sense had not kicked in. He did not feel the need to reach for his gun or get out of the way of an impending blow; in fact, what he felt was more a rising sense of curiosity than anything else.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, he rolled over.

  Even in the dim lighting he could clearly see the woman who was standing in his doorway only a few feet away.

  Gabrielle.

  “Hello, Cade,†she said, softly.

  She wore the same robe she’d worn in the Beyond, the hood pulled up to partially obscure her face, but Cade knew without a doubt that it was truly her.

  He scrambled to his feet. “Gabbi? Gabbi!†he exclaimed, rushing closer, his arms outstretched as if to hold her.

  “No!†she shouted, stepping back, one hand upraised to stop him. “Don’t touch me!â€

  Cade pulled up short, only steps away, pain and confusion chasing each other across his face.

  In response, she reached up and withdrew her hood, revealing her face. Her soft skin, her rich full lips, the elegant curve of her throat – Cade could only stare in stunned amazement.

  But before he could ask how the transformation had occurred, Gabrielle’s face began to shift. Like a mirage wavering in the heat, the phantom mask behind which she had hidden herself faded away.

  Cade was left staring at the same sight he had seen on that summer night seven years ago, her face stripped of its skin, her beautiful eyes staring out at him through a sea of blood-ied flesh.

  The mask returned as swiftly as it had faded, but the point had been made.

  Without a word, she pointed to his hands.

  Cade glanced down at his bare skin and suddenly understood.

  He’d removed his gloves when he’d lain down to sleep. With his hands bare, his Gift was ready for use whether he wanted it or not. Gabrielle, in turn, appeared as solid as she had in life. This was no ghost or shade, intruding where it didn’t belong, but his wife, brought back and seemingly whole again. Touching her would have been like touching one of the living, he would have been bombarded with her thoughts, emotions, and memories.

  Gabrielle took a step closer to him. “You must hurry, my love. While you wait, the Enemy has already breached your defenses. They’re inside the walls, getting closer every minute to what they came for.â€

  “What?†Cade replied, confused. He couldn’t seem to focus, his emotions flaring like a storm-swept sea; his soul ached at the knowledge of her loss, while his heart shouted with joy to see her standing before him.

  Her voice grew stern. “There’s no time. You must get to the Reliquary. You must protect the Spear!â€

  “How did you get here? Where have you been? What’s happened to you, Gabbi?†Cade was suddenly frantic with a need for information. He had to know that he had not failed her.

  But Gabrielle would have none of it. “Listen to me!†she cried, startling Cade into silence. “You’ve got to act, before it’s too late. Hurry! If the Spear falls into his hands, all will be lost. Go, go!â€

  With her final shout still ringing in the air, Gabrielle vanished.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Cade headed for the Reliquary at a dead run. On his way he used his radio to raise the alarm, so that by the time he reached the entrance to the lower levels he found Riley and Olsen waiting for him, weapons in hand. Duncan appeared out of an adjoining corridor seconds later.

  Cade wasted no time with long explanations. “We’re under attack, and I suspect our defenses have already been breached. Olsen, get us some backup. We’ll meet you in the Reliquary, unless we run into serious resistance before we get there.†Nodding at Riley and Duncan, he said, “You two are with me. Watch your backs.â€

  As Olsen disappeared back the way he had come, the other three cautiously descended the stairs leading to the hidden corridor Michaels had revealed to them earlier that morning.

  They moved forward quickly, knowing that every moment might be the difference between success and failure, between saving a life and ending one. They passed through the outer rooms, and then through the final tunnel that led to the Reliquary.

  It was there that they received their first confirmation of what Gabbi had foretold. Both guards were missing from their stations, and the reinforced vault door to the Reliquary was standing wide open.

  The sound of Cade chambering a round into his weapon was surprisingly loud in the still tunnel.

  “Keep your eyes open,†he said, moving through the door with the other two at his heels.

  The scene that met their eyes was incomprehensible.

  Earthquake. That was Cade’s initial thought. And, indeed, it was easy to imagine that an earthquake had occurred, considering the devastation before them.

  But Cade knew the answer wouldn’t prove that benign.

  The monitoring room was a disaster. Computerized monitoring stations lay strewn across the floor. So, too, did the filing cabinets and desk drawers. Looking through the viewing window they could see that the Reliquary chamber itself had been ransacked. One section of the room seemed to have been consumed in a great fire. Scorch marks covered the walls, floor, and even the ceiling. The fire response system must have gone off, for water still rained down throughout the room, and puddles pooled here and there on the floor. The glass chambers that had once housed the precious artifacts had been destroyed where they stood, the glass shattered across the floor and pedestals. The relics themselves were either missing, destroyed, or buried among the rubble. The great steel doors that had led to the secondary vault where the Spear itself had been stored had been torn off their hinges and lay haphazardly against other debris. Oddly, their smooth, polished surfaces seemed unsullied by the dust and soot that coated most of the rest of the room.

  Cade and his men quickly moved inside.

  The side gallery where the watch commander’s office had been was gone completely, buried under a mound of fallen earth, concrete, and steel.

  Similar piles of debris were scattered throughout the room.

  Cade stood at the center of the disaster, amazed at the destruction.

  How in God’s name did they do this? Why didn’t we hear anything up above? It seemed impossible that they could have accomplished so much in so short a time.

  Another question loomed.

  How did they get in?

  “Commander.â€

  The voice was little more than a whisper, but it was enough. Cade bent down, peered into the pile of debris in front of him, and began digging through it furiou
sly. Duncan and Riley jumped in to lend a hand. Olsen showed up seconds later with several other Templars, men Duncan recognized as members of the Preceptor’s security detail. They fanned out and began to search the place in more detail. Soon the badly wounded bodies of Preceptor Michaels and his aide, Jonathan Donaldson, were pulled free from the rubble. A medical team was sent for immediately.

  Donaldson was drifting in and out of consciousness, but didn’t appear to be mortally wounded. Michaels, however, was clearly in trouble. A wide gash split his forehead from just above his eye all the way back past his right ear. His left arm was bent at a strange angle below the elbow, and a wide bloodstain spread across the front of his shirt.

  Duncan and Cade carried him over to clear a spot on the floor and set him down gently.

  As Duncan tried to staunch the thin stream of blood from the Preceptor’s head wound, Cade tore open the man’s shirt to get a look at his injuries.

  A large gaping wound could be seen just below the left side of the man’s ribcage, the occasional flash of glistening pink revealing the damage to internal organs. Minor knife cuts and what appeared to be bite wounds covered his chest, arms, and legs. To make matters worse, the Preceptor was still losing blood at a tremendous rate as his heart fought to keep it pumping through his damaged form.

  “Can you do anything for him?†Cade asked.

  “As soon as the medics get here, we can . . .â€

  “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. We don’t have time to wait for the medics. He’ll be dead by then!â€

  Duncan looked up defiantly. “Then no. No, I can’t do anything for him.†He’d vowed not to use his strange power. It was a vow he intended to keep, no matter what the circumstances.

  Cade had other ideas, though. His hand moved to the gun at his side. “I’m giving you an order, Sergeant. I don’t care what your personal problems might be; you’re going to do what you can to save this man.â€