ONSET: To Serve and Protect

by Glynn Stewart

  “Kate’s connected with the local police,” Michael told him as the Pendragon swung away, circling around to the back of the small church. The building looked new but was built in an old style, designed to match the original missionary churches in this region. Brown stucco and white stone held up the triangle roof and its dark wooden steeple.

  “They’re on their way, but they’ll stay out of the church unless we call them in,” David’s Commander continued. “They’ve been told it’s a Federal matter and an FBI agent has gone missing.”

  “What about Riesling?” David asked as he took the safety off on his rifle.

  “If we can find him, we do,” Michael replied. “If we can’t,” he continued grimly, “Carderone has something else to answer for. Let’s go.”

  The two agents crossed the small churchyard to the door and stopped, flanking it. Ever so calmly, Michael unslung the assault rifle he was carrying and gestured for David to go first.

  Swallowing, David checked that he’d turned the safety off on his own rifle and, holding the rifle in his right hand, opened the door with his left. The heavy door swung open into a small lobby completely devoid of life.

  Burgundy carpet stretched across the lobby, matching the long curtains that hung beside the doors on either side of the room, half-concealed behind baroque pillars. A set of heavy wooden doors, richly decorated with carvings of the crucifixion, stood at the far end of the room. The room was meticulously maintained and neatly furnished. Each wall had two wooden pews along them, behind the pillars and divided by the doors in the middle.

  The two ONSET agents stalked forward onto that dark red carpet, gun barrels tracking over the doors on each side of the room, and the double door on the far side.

  “Which way?” David asked quietly, breathing in the smell of incense and oiled wood, a familiar scent from his childhood.

  “Forward, into the main sanctuary,” Michael replied, and gestured for David to lead the way again.

  David pushed the inner door open and entered into the main hall of the church. The same burgundy carpet and dark wood paneling continued into the larger room. A small stone basin stood next to the entry door, and heavy wooden pews lined the floor up to the raised pulpit at the end of the hall.

  A balcony ran around the hall at the level of a second floor, supported by the same baroque pillars as had decorated the front room. From the ground, David couldn’t tell if it held more seats or just decoration, as any view of it was blocked by heavy curtains slung from the roof.

  The raised pulpit at the far end was fenced in by a dark wood railing framing a solid podium and half-concealing the door at the back of the pulpit. The pews started three feet away from the dais, and curtains hung down from the balcony to frame its occupant.

  Like the pews on the floor, however, the pulpit was empty.

  Michael moved up behind David, and an eerie growl reverberated from the werewolf that set the hairs on David’s neck a-tingle.

  “This isn’t working,” the ONSET Commander muttered, and then raised his voice.

  “Father Carderone,” he shouted. “Are you here?”

  David, his Second Sight now fully active, saw the blur of potential at the door at the back of the pulpit before it opened and a figure walked out. Dressed in the full robes of a Catholic priest, the tall, fair-haired man was presumably Father Carderone.

  “Who are you?” the man demanded, his eyes taking in the two ONSET agent’s body armor and rifles. “What is the meaning of this violation of the house of God?”

  “Father Carderone,” Michael said calmly, “we are federal agents investigating the disappearance of an FBI Inspector by the name of Damien Riesling. He had advised us that he intended to interview you with regards to a case but then disappeared. Do you know what happened to him?”

  “Riesling?” Carderone said slowly, walking out onto the floor of the church as the two armed men walked toward him. “Yes, I remember,” he continued after a moment, stopping a good twenty feet from the agents, who stopped in turn.

  “He defiled my church with his presence and made heinous accusations,” the priest said, his calm voice contrary to the venom of his words. “Men like him, who do not admit their sins, are why our world is in the sad shape it is.”

  David watched the man’s aura boil with emotion—rage, disgust, contempt—that gave as much lie to his calm tone as his words. The sight of those colors drove home just what this man—this priest of his father’s faith—truly was. The sheer sickening contempt that inspired in him shocked David, and his hands shifted slightly on the rifle.

  “What do you mean?” Michael said carefully.

  “The man was a sodomite,” Carderone said flatly. “The world may tolerate such, but I know the commands of God and I will not have them in my church. I evicted him from this holy ground, and I care not where he went!”

  “I see,” Michael said calmly, his aura belying his voice and words as well. Slowly and deliberately, the werewolf began to move forward. “Unfortunately, the ‘commands of God’ are generally not considered acceptable reasons for murder,” the agent said softly.

  “I have committed no murders,” Carderone snapped, fear flickering through his aura, vanishing under rage. “I have shed no blood.”

  David remembered the comment that the major link between the killings that had led the FBI to conclude it was one killer was that all of them had been performed in a manner to minimize or remove the chance of spilling blood. With that realization, his hands tightened on the stock of his rifle.

  Carderone believed every word he said, but to David, the blood of the man’s victims shone upon his aura. Fear and rage outlined the deaths this man had wrought, and his excuses and lies were transparent as glass before David’s Sight.

  “Father Rufus Carderone,” Michael said formally as he stalked toward the priest, “you are under arrest on the charges of first-degree murder, to be remanded to the custody of the Special Supernatural Courts as per the authority of the Supernatural Restraint and Enforcement Act. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. Due to the circumstances of these charges, one will be provided for you by the court. Do you understand these rights?”

  “You are the one who does not understand,” Carderone spat, and leapt forward. Two assault rifle barrels tracked him, but he grabbed the barrel of Michael’s gun and yanked.

  David had personal experience now with how strong Michael was, even in human form—the werewolf was even more inhumanly strong than David himself. Despite the werewolf’s immense strength, the priest pulled the gun to the side, pivoting the werewolf around to hold him between himself and David’s rifle.

  For a long moment, the room held frozen in that tableau, and then, strained beyond any conceivable breaking point by the inhuman forces exerted on it, the barrel of the M4 snapped clear off.

  Michael dropped the gun and grabbed for Carderone. The two locked arms, and then the priest threw the werewolf aside, slamming his burly form into the pews. With Michael clear, David had a clear shot.

  To his own surprise, he didn’t hesitate. Training and anger at the priest’s hypocrisy clicked into place, and the circle of his targeting system dropped onto “Father” Carderone’s chest with chilling speed.

  The crash of the assault rifle firing echoed through the church, but even as David fired, he knew the priest would be gone. As the bullets flashed out, the priest faded out of his sight. For a moment, David had no idea where the man was, and then one of the massive wooden pews slammed into his back, crushing the ONSET Agent to the floor.

  Michael barely danced out of the way of the crushing furniture, snarling at the priest David now saw standing behind him.

  “You do not understand,” the man repeated in a bellow, his calm demeanor now lost to the crazed eyes of a madman under his shock of blond hair. “I have been chosen and blessed by God to carry out His holy work! If He opposed this, would I be all that I am?”

  David answered by t
hrowing the pew back at the priest in a surge of strength. He managed to scramble to his feet as the priest vanished again, but this time David saw him reappear on the pulpit.

  Turning to cover Michel, David sent another burst of bullets toward the pulpit. Again, the priest disappeared before the weapon fired, this time reappearing on the edge of the second-floor balcony.

  Moments after reappearing, Carderone ripped one of the heavy curtain rods out of the pillar holding it and flung it at David, the metal spinning across the room with lethal speed. Seeing the motion begin moments before the priest appeared at the gap, David dove sideways, and the steel rod smashed two of the pews to kindling.

  This time, David saw the priest in two places for a moment, the blur of motion heralding his arrival at the pulpit again. Michael saw the man appearing and rushed for the raised dais, changing forms into the immense black wolf as he did.

  At the sight of Michael’s transformation, Carderone began to froth. “Demon!” he screamed. “Accursed warrior of Hell, feel the wrath of God.”

  Carderone leapt over the pulpit, a heavy cudgel in his hand. He met Michael in midair, and the crunch of the cudgel hitting the werewolf echoed through the room. The massive black form flew sideways and slammed into the wall.

  Michael slid down the wall, and for a moment, David truly feared his Commander was down, and that he had to face this madman alone. Only a moment passed, however, before Michael leapt to his feet and charged Carderone again, but the priest disappeared once more he could reach him.

  Again, the priest stood on the balcony, and this time, he threw the cudgel at Michael, the impact sending the werewolf reeling back to the ground again. As Michael crumbled, David opened fire, spraying the second floor with silver bullets. His shots had no effect as the priest disappeared before they hit.

  He reappeared at the far back of the church, standing directly in front of the massive cross that hung there.

  “I have been anointed by God,” he screamed at the two agents as he ripped the immense monstrosity of wood and iron from the wall. “You have neither the power nor the right to stop me!”

  Michael met the priest’s words with his own wordless scream. The echoing battle cry of an enraged werewolf echoed through the church, and David winced in pain as his Commander began to charge.

  Even as Michael charged, Carderone lunged forward, the ten-foot cross almost light in his hands. With a sickening crunch, it tore through the werewolf, punching through Michael’s furred body in a spray of blood.

  The priest dropped the immense cross with a cold smile that faded as the werewolf rose again, tearing the cross from his body as the wounds healed before David’s eyes.

  With a snarl, Carderone ripped something from where the cross had stood and disappeared. David was watching, however, and saw his blurred form appear beside the blur of Michael’s path, his Sight showing where the priest would appear.

  David twisted his rifle around and emptied the last half-dozen rounds in the clip at the empty air where he knew Carderone would be.

  The priest materialized with one of the bullets in his body, and two more slammed into his upper torso as the first ripped its way out. Blood sprayed across the church pews, and David came to a halt, the heavy pistol at full extension and his eyes on his enemy as the heavy silver candlestick in the priest’s hands fell to the floor.

  For an eternity, David White met Rufus Carderone’s eyes and knew he’d killed the man.

  Then the enraged and bloodied werewolf ripped the priest’s head off.

  Chapter 12

  By the time the Alexandria Police showed up, O’Brien had returned to human form and any sign of his injury had vanished. He ordered Kate, who’d responded to the gunfire in time to watch Carderone’s head hit the floor, to have the cops secure a perimeter while the ONSET personnel swept the church. Kate had joined David and Michael at the front of the church’s hall. Her presence helped calm David somewhat, as much because he didn’t want to appear completely shattered in front of her as for anything she did.

  “We’re looking for three things,” the werewolf calmly informed Kate and a still-shaken David after he had the two Agents with him. “Firstly, Damien Riesling, or at least some evidence as to what happened to him. Secondly, any supernatural objects. While Carderone appears to have been Empowered, not a Mage, that doesn’t necessarily rule out enchanted toys, and we can’t leave those to the local police. Finally,” he concluded, “any evidence as to who else this sick fuck killed. Understood?”

  David nodded somewhat sickly. A very large part of him just wanted to go outside and throw up. Whatever he wanted, however, David had been trained as a police investigator. He knew they needed evidence and as much information as they could find.

  With that thought in mind, he headed toward the door at the back of the pulpit, where his memories of his childhood church told him the priest’s rooms would be. To his surprise, Kate walked with him.

  “Are you all right?” the Mage asked quietly. “It looks like it got ugly in here.”

  The hall of the church was a disaster zone of bullet holes and shattered furniture. Carderone’s corpse now occupied a black body bag, but a massive bloodstain marked the spot he’d died.

  David skirted that bloodstain and shook his head silently. He appreciated Kate’s concern, but now wasn’t the time. The shock of the violence, Michael’s injury and terrifyingly rapid recovery, and the memory of Carderone’s face were too fresh. He needed time and to see with own eyes the proof of the priest’s crimes.

  “He’d have killed you both,” she reminded him. “You had no choice.”

  “I’ve been in exactly two firefights in my life,” David told her, his voice weak even in his own ears as he voiced his disquiet. “First those vampires back home and now here. For some strange reason,” he said bitterly, “I haven’t got used to killing people yet.”

  “Want some advice on that?” the Mage asked, her voice still soft, as the pair stopped at the back of the nave of the church.

  “What?” David asked, wondering just what the younger woman would say.

  “Don’t,” Kate told him flatly. “Killing people is the ugliest part of our job, and if we didn’t hate it, we’d be as bad the people we fight.”

  With that, the young woman turned toward the right door, leaving David to go left. Somehow, the thought that he wasn’t the only one bothered made him feel a lot better as he entered the private areas of the church.

  #

  There was something inherently creepy about picking through the things of a man you’d just killed. The door behind the pulpit had led into a undecorated wooden antechamber, with several closets that proved to contain Carderone’s priestly vestments.

  A door at the back led into an office area, with an open door on the left leading to a bedroom and one on the right to a small kitchen. All of the furnishings were old oak, and sumptuous burgundy hangings marked the walls and matched the plush couch in the office. A surprisingly ordinary-looking black leather office chair stood pushed back from a massive oak desk, and paintings of the saints lined the upper walls.

  The back rooms of the church were a small but comfortable home for a man who’d chosen to do truly horrible things. Somehow, their plush furnishings and small luxuries made David sick.

  A part of his mind insisted that horrible men should live in horrific surroundings, not in neat little apartments in the backs of churches. With a shudder, he looked around and focused on the task at hand.

  He swept his half of the back rooms with Second Sight once and then went back with his police training, checking for documents and evidence. While his Sight gave him some clues, he still trusted the training he’d used for years more than it.

  No tingles of magic stood out to his Sight, nor did anything stand out as suspicious to his police training, but he eventually found himself staring at the priest’s heavy wooden desk. It was a true monstrosity of solid, heavy oak, probably antique and brought into this church from t
he older building it had replaced. A filing cabinet made up one leg and eight drawers made up the other.

  Several of the desk drawers stood open—Carderone must have been working at this desk when they’d arrived—and David quickly rifled through the papers, finding nothing out of the ordinary for a church this size.

  For some reason, he still stood, looking at the desk. His training suggested that the kind of man the priest had been would have kept some sort of trophy list or record of his deeds. This desk was the center of so much of the priest’s other holy work; it made a sort of twisted sense that he’d have organized his killings through it as well.

  David focused harder, now bringing his Sight fully to bear on the desk, matching magic and intuition with training and experience. Traces of glittering past emotion swept through the air, tracing their transparent lines over the sad reality of the ownerless desk. The lines of the priest’s life swept across that desk, marking which drawers were important and which ones weren’t.

  And one set of lines marked a spot, centered on the front of the desk’s thick wooden top, where there was no drawer. These lines were red, with rage, and white, with satisfaction. Slowly, ever so slowly, David’s fingers followed those lines, running along the bottom edge of the desktop. Where the lines converged, his fingers hit a latch, and a hidden drawer dropped out of the desk’s top, sliding forward on smoothly greased hinges.

  The cop checked that he was wearing the skintight black gloves of his suit and then removed the drawer’s contents. One advantage of his suit was the knowledge that everything he saw was recorded, so photos were unnecessary.

  The drawer had contained a red leather photo album, wrapped around with the transparent lines of emotion. The red leather was unmarked anywhere except on the very front, where a black metal stylized sun had been riveted to the leather. To David’s Sight, the black sun glowed with a deep light, seeming blacker than should have been possible. He flinched from the sight of the symbol but then flipped the album open.