by Jeff Kirvin
She heard the front door open.
100%. The computer was silent once more.
"Conan!” she heard Zagam shout.
Ripping the disc out of the computer and slamming it into her bag, Susan got up on the computer desk and tried to open the window.
It wouldn't budge.
"Here, boy,” Zagam called, sounding much closer this time. Susan wrenched the window with every ounce of force she had.
It moved. Only an inch or so at first, then it flew open as the last of the dirt and corrosion that held it shut broke free.
Susan threw her bag out the window, then followed it as quickly as she could. After a brief pause to collect it outside, she leapt into space.
Landing on the hard, concrete driveway brought a sharp, stabbing pain to her right ankle and bright spots to her eyes. Shaking it off as much as she could, she limped away into the darkness and was out of sight when the light came on in Zagam's computer room.
Daniel met up with the Winnebago at the designated rendezvous, a supermarket parking lot. When he walked in the door, he found Jeff and Susan in jubilant conversation.
"This is fantastic!” Jeff exclaimed.
"Isn't it, though?” Susan answered smugly.
Daniel walked over to where they were and looked over Jeff's shoulder at Susan's notebook computer. It was cycling through a database of faces, alongside columns of text. Names, aliases, histories. Everything they needed to track down any demon in the world.
"Incredible,” Daniel whispered.
"Pretty cool, huh?” Susan smiled. She got up and limped across the cabin. “And that's not even the best part."
"What happened to your leg?” Daniel asked.
Susan shrugged. “I had to jump out of Zagam's house. Can't let you hog all the action."
She picked up the ancient leather book she found in Zagam's study. “This,” she said, “is the cool part.” She handed the book to Daniel.
Daniel unlatched the book and opened it, noting that the book was very, very old. The text was a dialect of Latin he couldn't fully decipher.
"What is it?"
Susan sat back down next to the computer. “It appears to be a text written by a monk around 500 A.D. It's a detailed history of angels and demons, and it jibes much more with what Uriel told us than what we learned in the Bible."
"You can read this?"
"I studied a lot of languages in school. It's amazing how knowing other languages increases your ability to communicate in English. It's a very uncommon dialect of Latin, but I can make out most of it."
Daniel handed the book back to Susan. “So read."
Zagam was incensed. In the thousands of years of life he'd seen, he couldn't remember having a day this bad. After returning from the wild goose chase Cho had coaxed him into, he'd discovered that it had all been a front for that damned reporter to raid his house. Of all the days for the damn dog to disappear!
He found his computer on and the database accessed. He could only assume that Cho and his friends now knew everything. Zagam had to find a way to make sure it didn't get out any further. But if he didn't know where Cho was, what could he do?
Zagam picked up the phone and dialed a number with a San Francisco area code. There was a demon assigned there that owed him a favor dating back to when they were both stationed in Salem.
If he couldn't find Daniel Cho, he could do the next best thing.
Susan read well into the predawn hours of the morning. The book recounted the history of a race of immortal beings, much as had been explained by Uriel. Once united, the angels split in a civil war instigated by the archangel Satan.
The war dragged on for centuries, neither side gaining nor losing much ground. There were rules of engagement, and much care was taken to avoid actually killing one another. As the sides were separated only by ideology, a simple change of heart could theoretically make an angel into a demon or vice versa. Neither side wanted to waste an irreplaceable potential ally.
Finally, as the sunlight began to stream into the windows of the camper and Susan continued her translation of the history of the war, Daniel, Susan and Jeff found what they were looking for.
"The demon Baraqel had committed many atrocities against mankind, and with a heavy heart Michael thusly decreed that Baraqel be destroyed.
"A dozen angels stalked Baraqel as ten winters passed. Finally cornering the demon in a ravine, the angels set upon him with swords.
"Baraqel fought fiercely, and his wounds healed almost as quickly as they were inflicted. The angels fought day and night, giving no quarter, until near the sunset of the third day, Baraqel tired and fell. His wounds no longer healed quickly enough, and the angels cut him to pieces. The pieces were separated, burned and the ashes scattered to the four winds, and Baraqel was no more.
"Their task completed, the angels each cut off one of their own fingers to honor the memory of their fallen brother and former comrade, Baraqel."
Susan closed the book and put it down.
"They can be killed."
"I'll be damned,” Jeff breathed.
"We finally have a weapon,” Daniel said. “Now we just have to figure out a way to use it."
Changes
Daniel woke later to the early afternoon sunlight streaming through the window of the motel room the three of them had rented. As he rubbed his eyes and sat up, he couldn't believe that it had only been twenty-four hours since he'd climbed on top of that warehouse in Old Town. It was amazing how much life could change in a single day.
He got up, stretched, and walked over to the bathroom. Susan was out cold on the other bed, and Jeff snored softly on the couch. As Daniel closed the bathroom door, he took survey of what he saw in the mirror. He had aged. There were lines around his eyes that weren't there two weeks ago, and he could swear he saw gray hairs on a head that hadn't even seen thirty years yet. Stress, he thought. Well, a lot of that's about to turn around.
As he walked back into the motel room, he was startled by a knock on the door. He checked his watch; it was one thirty. Maybe they missed checkout? As Susan stirred awake and Jeff continued snoring, Daniel walked to the door and looked through the peephole.
There was no one there.
Cautiously, Daniel opened the door and looked out, squinting into the bright sunlight. Before he could react, a strong hand appeared out of nowhere and lifted him off his feet.
"No, no, no! Terrible! Never do that!” Uriel admonished Daniel before putting him down. The angel strode past him into the motel room and knocked Jeff's feet out of the way before taking a seat on the couch.
After looking out the door and seeing no one else, Daniel closed the door and turned to face Uriel. “How did you find us?"
"It wasn't that hard,” Uriel answered, reclining comfortably as Jeff sat next to him and struggled to pull himself together. “I placed a tracking device on your camper last night before I spoke to you."
"You can do that?” Susan asked.
"Just because I'm older than recorded human history doesn't mean I'm limited to archaic means. We angels are every bit as technically adept as humans, if not more so. We keep up with the times. And so do the demons. If it was this easy for me to track you down, it won't be that much harder for Zagam."
Uriel had the humans’ undivided attention.
"Which brings me to my reason for dropping in on you today. It has come to my attention that you raided Zagam's house last night, and made off with quite a bit of potentially damaging information. Bravo. Smug bastard's had it coming for centuries.
"Still, that said, it doesn't change the fact that you three are now the most endangered creatures on the planet. Before last night, you were a nuisance to the demons, a thorn in Zagam's side, nothing more. Zagam isn't that popular, so many of the demons probably found you a source of amusement. Mortals that learn our secret aren't quite as rare as you might think, but there's usually not much they can do about it, short of getting themselves committed.
&
nbsp; "All that has changed. Now, you three are a legitimate threat. You alone can prove our existence to the world beyond a reasonable doubt. And, as you probably also know, human weapons technology is finally powerful enough to end even our lives. Zagam and his fellow demons won't let it come to that. They will stop at nothing to prevent you from passing on the information that you possess. I had to shake two of them this morning just so I could meet with you without leading them here.
"With all that in mind, I offer some advice. Change your appearance. Zagam will have seen to it that every demon on the Eastern Seaboard knows what you look like. Ditch the camper. Batarel, at least, knows it quite well, and you can't afford to be recognized. Lastly, lie as low as you can until you get that information out, confirmed, and believed. Wide exposure for this information is your only salvation. Once their existence and nature is exposed, the demons will have bigger problems on their hands than what to do with you. Good luck.” He got up and walked to the door.
"Wait!” Daniel shouted.
The angel turned. “Yes?"
"What about you? What will you be doing?"
"The angels and I will watch, and act when the time is right. For reasons beyond mortal understanding, we can't get involved yet, at least not directly. We will watch, and offer what little protection we can."
"But why can't you help us directly?” Susan asked. “Why can't you go public on your own?"
Uriel lingered in the doorway. “Imagine, if you will, what would happen if I, in my identity as a prominent businessman, called a press conference and confessed that it was all a front, that I was actually an immortal protector of humanity, what they would refer to as an angel? They'd fit me for a straight jacket on the spot. And believe me, that's getting off easy. It wasn't too long ago that sort of talk would get one burned at the stake for heresy. Do you know how long burns like that take to heal, even for one of us? No, the revelation about our existence must come from a third party, from a human. We will help you when and where we can. But watch your backs.” The angel walked out the door and turned the corner.
Daniel, Jeff and Susan all rushed out the door after him, only to find Uriel had once again vanished without a trace.
"How the heck does he do that?” Jeff asked.
Batarel fumed. Word leaked out quickly about what had happened to Zagam, and from that, that Cho had actually been at the meeting, and recorded it. It was more important than ever that the mortal be silenced. Unfortunately, the speck had disappeared. He and his bitch reporter had fallen off the face of the Earth.
He had to find them, and stop them. For the safety of his people and the sanctity of their mission, Batarel had no other choice. And knowing modern humans as he did, Batarel knew the perfect place to start.
"I wish I felt better about this,” Jeff muttered, stepping out of his camper and lugging a battered suitcase.
They were in the long-term parking lot of Dulles International Airport, more than half an hour's drive from the D.C. city limits. It was early evening, and the sound of aircraft carried quite well in the cooling, humid air.
"I've told you, it makes perfect sense,” Daniel replied, the five o'clock shadow on his face nearly as long as the shaved hair on his head. “We needed to find a place to stash your camper and rent a car the demon's aren't likely to trace to us. This does both."
"And,” Susan, now a blonde, said as she opened the trunk of their huge rental sedan, “if anyone does spot it, all the way out here, they'll think we skipped town."
"I know,” Jeff grumbled, putting his suitcase gingerly in the trunk. “It's just that this old girl has been my home for almost nine years. I don't like leaving her behind."
"Hey,” Daniel said as he opened the passenger door for Jeff, “it's not like you'll never see it again. In just a few more weeks, this'll all be over, thank God."
With one last look over his shoulder, Jeff got into the car.
Barely ten minutes after they left, Batarel's battered brown Buick pulled into Dulles International Airport.
Hours later and three thousand miles away, two demons got out of a car in San Francisco. While one removed gas cans from the trunk, the other walked up to the front door of the Cho Vegetarian Grocery. Ignoring the sign on the door that read “closed", the demon grabbed the doorknob and simply ripped the door off its hinges.
Responding to the clatter, two Koreans in their fifties appeared from the back room, a man and a woman. The demon recognized them as his targets, Ronald and Delores Cho.
"What are you doing here?” Ronald demanded. “We're closed! My God, look what you've done to my door!"
Without a sound, the demon stepped forward, took Ronald's head in his hands, and snapped Ronald Cho's neck.
Delores ran screaming to the stockroom as the second demon entered and began sloshing gasoline over the store's shelves and floor. The first demon followed her.
Delores was hysterical. “Please, don't kill me,” she begged. She frantically scrambled to the desk in the corner and grabbed a handful of photos of Daniel and his sisters, Kathy and Samantha. “Take what you want, but let me live. I have children. They need me."
The demon said nothing.
Delores began to rock herself back and forth. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” she recited as the demon approached her, “I will fear no evil..."
The demon put a hand gently on either side of her head, twisted sharply, and Daniel's mother lay still.
In the other room, the second demon put down his gas can and lit a match.
Victory and Defeat
Susan had recommended a hotel in D.C. not too far from the Post offices. Just as they settled in and began the long process of collating all their information into a presentable format, the phone rang. The three of them exchanged a look. No one was supposed to know where they were.
"Maybe it's the front desk,” Daniel said as he picked up the phone.
"You'll have to do better than that, Daniel,” rang Uriel's voice on the other end of the line.
Daniel was startled, but not really surprised. “How did you know we were here?"
"By having you followed. We've become quite adept at surveillance, over the millennia. It might interest you to know that we also spotted Batarel lurking about at Dulles shortly after you left, asking all kinds of questions."
"Was he in long term parking?” Daniel asked.
"If by that you mean, did he see the camper, yes, he did. He doesn't have the same resources I do, but it's relatively easy for him to verify that you did not catch a flight out of Dulles. He's well on his way to tracking you down. And getting a hotel room within walking distance of Miss Richardson's newspaper was an act of dubious judgment."
Daniel paused a moment to think. “Does this work both ways?"
"Does what work both ways?"
"Well,” Daniel began, “if you can find out all this information about the demons, can you also leak information to them?"
Daniel listened for a long time to silence from the angel. Finally, Uriel answered him. “What did you have in mind?"
The next morning found Jeff and Daniel in an abandoned warehouse in Crystal City, Arlington, just south of the Pentagon. If Uriel did what he said he'd do, Batarel would “track” them to the warehouse by nightfall. In the meantime, they had work to do. They were rigging numerous makeshift pipe bombs to various locations in the warehouse.
"You're sure this will work,” Daniel said.
"Sure?” Jeff replied. “Hell no! But I think, yeah, we have a good shot."
Jeff paused in his work and faced Daniel. “I have no illusions about what we're doing, Daniel. We're relying on an old man's wartime knowledge of explosives to mine a warehouse in hopes of killing an immortal demon. We'll be lucky if we don't blow ourselves up before Batarel ever gets here."
"That's chipper."
"Well, you asked. Now shut up and hand me that wrench."
Choking down their nerves, the men got back to work.
<
br /> Batarel arrived at the warehouse by dusk, just as Uriel predicted. Daniel waited inside and tried to quiet the butterflies in his stomach. For the umpteenth time, Daniel reached into the pockets of his jacket and grabbed his only protection, two Korean War-era grenades Jeff had given him. Jeff had briefed him on their use, but a grenade was an imprecise weapon at best, and Daniel hoped he wouldn't have to use them. He didn't want to blow himself up.
Provided the bombs didn't get him when they got Batarel. After checking that his escape route was clear, he grabbed the remote detonator and checked Batarel's progress. The demon was about to enter the mined area of the warehouse and was beginning to look discouraged.
It was showtime.
Batarel was growing suspicious. Cho and his cronies were nowhere to be seen. Was it possible that his sources had given him false information?
"Batarel."
The demon spun around and between two crates near the back door stood Daniel Cho.
"Where are your friends?"
"Around,” Daniel said casually.
It finally dawned on Batarel that he might be walking into a trap. He looked around and noticed the pipe bombs taped to crates and shelves all around him. Batarel knew exactly what those bombs could do to flesh, even immortal flesh. “No, I—"
"Goodbye,” Daniel said. As he lunged out the back door, he punched the button on the detonator.
Daniel rolled to his feet outside the warehouse, his leap given distance by the concussion of the blast. The pavement was littered with broken glass and Daniel could see a flickering glow inside the building from small fires spawned by the explosion. He got up and walked back inside. He had to get confirmation.
The pipe bombs had packed a bigger punch than he expected. No structure inside was left intact. There was a sizable chunk of debris in the center of the warehouse, roughly where Batarel stood at the instant of the explosion.
The pile began to move. “That,” it said, “hurt."
Daniel stood his ground, frozen in place.
"You insignificant little speck,” Batarel said, shaking rubble off his scorched and tattered shoulders. “Did you actually think you could destroy me?"
