Kneel Or Die (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 7)

by Michael Anderle

  A sob escaped his lips, his eyes drawn to the death she promised. Massive pain erupted in his chest and he looked down to see the tip of a blade sticking out, the moonlight glinting off the blade that was coated in his blood. He coughed, blood escaping over his lips.

  He could feel a warm breath on his neck although her words were barely loud enough for him to hear. “The cries, for justice, of the dying have been heard! The dead have come to claim you, Dawid. France’s children shall have their justice!” Bethany Anne pulled her sword out from Dawid’s back, allowing him to fall to his knees. Bethany Anne reached down with her left hand, grabbing Dawid by the hair, “Tonight you are the lesson, Dawid, tonight you are the note!” Bethany Anne pulled Dawid Zadeh up, his mind mostly gone already. A fraction of a second later, Bethany Anne’s blade sang through the night, leaving Dawid Zadeh headless.

  Bethany Anne grabbed the head, “You, Dawid Zadeh, shall not have a proper burial!” With that, Bethany Anne pushed the head into the Etheric.

  As she cleaned her blade on the body, she ratcheted up her ability to push fear out in waves and waited for the Pod to come down into the dark street. The two women got in and a second later, the night breathed a sigh of relief.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Queen Bitch’s Ship Polarus

  Stephen was wandering around the ship. He enjoyed night time and it was peaceful on such a large vessel. He allowed his senses to stretch out to listen to distant sounds in the dark as he stopped near the bow of the boat, enjoying the moon’s gleam reflecting upon the waves.

  A hatch closed from up near the bridge and a pair of footsteps came walking towards him. Stephen turned to smile at Captain Thomas.

  “Good evening, Captain.”

  Captain Bartholomew Thomas smiled at Stephen, “Good evening yourself, Stephen. Are you enjoying this lovely evening?”

  Stephen turned back to watch the waves, “Indeed I am Captain, you provide such an enticing view it would be a shame to waste it.”

  Captain Thomas came up to stand beside Stephen, “I never get tired of it. You would think as many years as I’ve looked out over water, that it would look the same. It never does, there is always something a little different about it and that’s just enough to keep it exciting.”

  Stephen asked, “Might it be the danger? No matter what ship you are in, there is always a dangerous aspect to the seas. It seems placid right now, but you always know anything can happen at a moment’s notice.”

  “That could be it. A subconscious recognition that danger is always lurking. Beauty and destruction doing a dance right in front of you. You never know which is going to show at any moment. Mankind can reach for the stars, but we can’t tame the depths.”

  “I didn’t realize you were a poet, captain.”

  Captain Thomas laughed, “Son, you’re always a poet when you court the deeps as your mistress.”

  Stephen smiled. It was nice that the captain called him son. Should any see the two standing together, they wouldn’t doubt the captain was the older and wiser, no matter the truth. It was a good feeling to have after the ennui of his last few centuries. “I’m enjoying the company, but don’t let me interfere with your duties. Did you have a reason to seek me out, before I took you off track?”

  “Yes I did,” Captain Thomas turned to Stephen, “I understand Bethany Anne moves through another dimension when she ‘steps’ from one place to another. I also hear stories that Michael can pull people partially into that dimension but move in this one kind of like a ghost. Further, I know we send communications through that other dimension. I’m wondering what else we might do through the Etheric?”

  Stephen asked, “Do you have something particular in mind?”

  “Missiles.” Captain Thomas regarded Stephen levelly, “What happens if someone can shove a missile or a big bomb through the etheric and just bomb the ever loving hell out of a location?”

  Stephen thought through a couple of efforts Michael had made about half a millennium ago. “I seem to recall Michael testing his abilities. The larger the metal content, the less he could do. Once it got past a certain amount and I can’t remember if it was size or weight, he couldn’t do it. I have never asked Bethany Anne, but I imagine TOM could give us a better answer. That is an interesting question. I’ve had some conversations with Bethany Anne where she admitted there is an issue of energy.”

  “Energy? Like you can’t send energy through?”

  “No,” Stephen continued, “more a component of how much energy it takes. As I understand it the energy to move through the etheric increases with distance or how many people she is taking. Long distances with a lot of people requires the most energy to accomplish. So it could be possible that increased volume might require more energy. Perhaps there is a density component or organic versus inorganic?”

  Captain Thomas nodded, “Well, that right there would be an issue. If Michael has issues with density and Bethany Anne is saying distance is an issue, we can’t send a missile very far through the etheric due to energy issues.”

  “True, although TOM’s ship can go very, very fast. What would happen if you sent a missile very fast?”

  Captain Thomas’s eyes grew wide, “The payload becomes almost secondary in importance.”

  Stephen turned to regard the beauty of the waves in the moonlight. “Indeed, Captain. Indeed.”

  Buenos Aires Argentina

  Bethany Anne, Gabrielle and Ashur appeared in the empty house, the same location she had fought those two big-ass Nosferatu right after Anton was killed.

  This time, Michael waited by the wall for the three of them. “Welcome back Bethany Anne, welcome Gabrielle.”

  The two ladies returned Michael’s pleasantries.

  Bethany Anne looked around, “Is there a better place I can use at your present house as an arrival area? I’m kinda getting bored coming here all the time.”

  Michael agreed, “I can certainly arrange that. Please follow me as I have a car waiting for us. Anton did have a fairly large number of rooms at his house. Once we get there you can choose one not in use and we will protect it appropriately.”

  The four of them left the house and drove to Anton’s old main home, located outside the city. It was situated on a large plot of land among other estates. Gabrielle whistled, “That’s a pretty large house! Or is that Argentina’s version of a castle? It appears to have a lot of Germanic characteristics.”

  Michael replied, “That’s because it is. Anton apparently felt it would help some of the people from Germany adapt, seeing something from their country. So he used significant German architectural styling when he built this house. There is just enough Argentinian design not to raise too many questions.” Michael parked the car and the four of them got out.

  Bethany Anne noticed that Michael didn’t question or get upset with Ashur riding in his car. Gabrielle asked, “Where is Tabitha?”

  Michael waved towards the southern side of the house, “She has co-opted three rooms on that side of the house.”

  Bethany Anne wondered. “Why three rooms?”

  Michael shrugged, “Typical female nesting behavior? She uses one for sleeping, one for her office and one for clothes. I haven’t lived with a woman for a couple of centuries, you will have to forgive me for not being up on the times.”

  Gabrielle looked back at Michael, “Clothes? She seemed a… I don’t know… tomboy sort of girl when we talked.”

  Michael seemed to be searching his head for the meaning. Bethany Anne added, “Like a girl that prefers to act and dress more like a boy.”

  Michael grunted, “She does not have, what do you call it? A desire to be in an all-female relationship.”

  Bethany Anne noticed Michael blushing faintly. While she enjoyed his discomfort, she found herself not liking a rambunctious clearly heterosexual woman possibly angling to go after Michael.

  TOM, are you messing with my emotions again?

  What? No! ADAM and I are endeavoring to
increase our international relations. We are working on communications with the Chinese.

  Bethany Anne swallowed, that meant the slight feelings of jealousy were all natural, all hers. She replied back to TOM without thinking, Yeah, fine, whatever. Don’t start World War III.

  There would come a time when she would have cause to regret that dismissive comment.

  Bethany Anne spoke to Gabrielle, “I’ve got to ask Michael a question related to my dad, do you mind checking on our little resident hacker and make sure Michael’s been an appropriate host?” Gabrielle nodded and walked into the house.

  Bethany Anne heard Gabrielle call out for Tabitha and her excited response.

  Michael was quiet, staring at Bethany Anne. He had over a thousand years under his belt, he could wait a couple of minutes until Bethany Anne worked up the courage to ask him her question. She seemed pensive.

  “So, I understand from a little birdy that you’re an ordained minister?” She smiled up to him, affecting a sweet ‘pretty please’ look that women have used for centuries.

  Apparently courage wasn’t her problem.

  Michael’s eyes came together, his lips pursed, “Would that ‘birdy’ have been male, or female?”

  Bethany Anne decided to come clean, “Yes!” She continued the pretty smile.

  Michael frowned, the damn smile was working! “That means both my brother and his daughter were guilty of ratting me out, correct?”

  Bethany Anne shrugged, “I can’t disclose that much, however let’s just agree that the information came from very solid sources, ok?”

  This time it was Michael who shrugged, “Very well, the information is accurate. What does this have to do with Lance?”

  For some reason, Bethany Anne was having a hard time asking this favor of Michael. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the emotions she was feeling, or if it was the first real favor with nothing attached that she was asking of him. “I was wondering if you would mind officiating his marriage to Patricia? We kind of thought that it would be cool to have the oldest living minister marry them. Well, it seemed like a really cool idea at the time.” She wanted to kick herself, what the hell was her problem this time?

  Michael risked taking a short peek into Bethany Anne’s mind. After peeking into Tabitha’s mind one too many times, he was becoming hesitant due to the …erotic thoughts he found in Tabitha’s mind. While one or two weren’t so bad, that girl had a very active imagination and Michael wasn’t sure what the dungeon scene had to do with her fantasy sex with him, nor did he ever want to find out. He had decided to never ’casually’ check her thoughts again.

  He was relieved to find out Bethany Anne wasn’t thinking of any dungeon scenes, and then rather annoyed there were no scenes at all. She was just feeling uncomfortable having to ask a favor from him and feeling a sense of obligation for doing it. “You do realize that I haven’t done any ‘officiating’ in the last 200 years, correct?”

  “Sure!” Bethany Anne looked towards the house. “But, how hard can it be? It’s like riding a horse, right? Once you know how to do it, you always remember for the next time?”

  Michael snorted, “You obviously haven’t ridden too many horses, have you?”

  She turned back to Michael, “Is it that obvious? It’s a saying, it must have some truth to it.”

  Michael replied, “Only if you want to break your damn fool neck, if you think that one time riding a horse makes you good enough to do it again. However, officiating a wedding is pretty straightforward. You can let Lance know I would be honored to officiate their wedding.”

  Bethany Anne’s eyes lit up with happiness and Michael smiled at her response. She stepped quickly up to him, stood on her tippy toes and kissed him on the cheek. Then Bethany Anne turned around and raced into the house calling for Gabrielle. Michael watched her go in shock, reaching up to feel where her lips had just graced his face.

  He slowly started walking to the house, a small smile tugging at his face. His steps changing from a man without a care, to a man stalking prey.

  Oh yes, life just got all the more delicious.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Washington, D.C. - USA

  Don walked down the hall to Barb’s office and stuck his head in. “Hey, thanks for that report. Sorry for not reading it earlier but I …” Don stopped talking since it was becoming obvious Barb wasn’t paying any attention to him. He stepped into her office and sat down in one of her chairs.

  Damn, this chair was uncomfortable! Don shifted his butt, left then right, but nothing helped. His efforts to get comfortable, however, did manage to attract Barb’s attention.

  “Don, sorry … I was … well, focused. What’s up?” Barb’s mind was still on what she had been reading.

  “I came by to thank you for the report, but you didn’t hear me. So, I’m trying to find out what’s troubling you since it could affect what we need to do.”

  “Aaahhh…” Barb looked back to her screen. “Would you believe another ‘coincidence’ has occurred?”

  Don lifted the report in his hand, “Something to do with this?”

  “Yes! At least I’m guessing they’re related.”

  “Ok, but first let’s go to my office.” He stood up, “I don’t think I can deal with that excuse for a chair any longer.”

  “Welcome to my world!” Barb grabbed her laptop and some papers.

  She could hear Don’s muffled answer from the hallway, “I’d rather not, that’s why we’re going to my office.”

  “Smart-ass.” Barb grumped.

  Don was just sitting down and opening his report when she placed her laptop on his desk and opened it. She told him, “I’m going to steal your chair.”

  He answered, without looking up from the report, “It’s not stealing if I tell you that you can have it. Impress me, and I’ll let you.”

  Barb eyed her research. Hot damn, that chair was going to be hers! “Fine, but I get my choice.”

  Don bounced in his chair as he replied, “So long as it isn’t this one you’re a go.”

  Barb laid out her research. “Ok. I believe we have an organization that has backtracked the money to Anthony Chillenni. From him, they got some cut-out names overseas. They take him out and drop him somewhere, probably dumped him in Lake Michigan. Encase the asshole in cement, he never comes back up.”

  Don interrupted, “Why not a version of Guantanamo Bay?”

  Barb presented her reasons. “I don’t think they are doing that, but it’s more hunch than concrete evidence. If they have their own version of Guantanamo Bay, then where is it? They are hitting targets here in the U.S. and overseas. I can’t believe they have multiple detention centers.”

  “Let’s call it what it likely is, a torture location. If we can’t get the bodies, then they are possibly using torture to procure information and then washing away the evidence. Blood goes down the drain and the body gets dumped somewhere.”

  Barb’s face contorted in disgust. She didn’t like terrorists, but she was vehemently opposed to torture. “Ugh! That’s awful! But I don’t think so. We don’t have any evidence that these people are leaving the area with their targets. Look at Chillenni, we have no evidence that anyone ever took him out of his building. How did they do that?”

  “Looped the surveillance video?”

  “Yeah, but when? That was a secured building and he was on a secured floor. How did they even get up there? The report has him entering his elevator and using the keypad lock to enter his apartment. Then, nothing.”

  “Black helicopter? Rappel down from above?” Barb looked at Don, then raised her eyebrows. He made a face, “I’m just spit-balling a few ideas. I don’t think anyone can fly a helicopter in Chicago’s winds without someone noticing. So … we don’t know how they made dearly departed Mr. Chillenni disappear, but they obviously have skills. And I’m talking high end, professional level skills.”

  Barb continued, “Right. So, put ‘professional” into column number one.
That includes professional computer skills, since they were capable of discovering the data that led them to Chillenni in the first place.”

  “What triggered their interest in Chillenni?”

  Barb shrugged, “Beats me. They might have traced the money, or they could have found someone overseas that fingered him. I’m just assuming he was the first, but he could be the second or third in the string of hits.”