“We need to pull together a warrant,” Luke began as he turned from the window...and saw the muzzle of a gun. The lieutenant had his weapon leveled directly at Luke’s face.
“Hands on the wheel,” he said tensely.
Luke slowly complied, his heart sinking with the betrayal at the same time that adrenaline was flooding his body.
The lieutenant put his Glock against Luke’s head and reached into his coat to disarm him. He pressed the barrel harder against Luke’s head.
“Now drive.”
“Where?” Luke said tightly as he moved to start the engine.
“Down there,” his boss said, nodding toward the estate.
* * *
Pepper sped his unmarked car on Highway 1, with Aurora tense and focused in the passenger seat. Black clouds were moving ominously over the mountains as the sun sank in the sky, and wind whipped the brush by the side of the road.
“Luke had me tracking down the whereabouts of this Tomas Tomasson. Well, there’s nothing on record. And that’s hard to do without someone making things disappear. But his old man has quite a spread north of the city, and the whole shipping connection...”
“That sounds right,” Aurora said. “I’m sure that’s it.”
Pepper gave her a long look. “You don’t look much like law enforcement to me.”
She smiled back wanly. “I’m just helping.”
* * *
Luke was sweating, his thoughts racing as he drove down the highway toward the compound. He could speed up, crash the car, run it off the road, take his chances...
“Try it and you’re dead,” Duncan said, and Luke had to admit he was probably right. He turned down the access road toward the compound.
“You’re too smart for your own good, Mars,” the lieutenant said with something almost like regret.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that,” Luke said. “So you’re why it was taking us so long to get any traction on this operation.”
“It would have been fine if you’d stayed out of it. You would have been fine.”
Luke set his jaw. “It’s not my job to stay out of it.”
Duncan nodded to the guard at the gate and the metal door rolled open for them. Luke drove in and heard the metal gates shutting behind them, an ominous sound.
“Park it over there.” Duncan jerked his head toward a spot under a tree; Luke could see a tree-lined pathway leading to the warehouse.
He stopped the car and Duncan directed him. “Get out. Slowly.”
Luke opened the door and got out of the car...to face five men with Uzis trained on him.
“Walk. That way.” One of them indicated the path with his gun.
Luke walked.
A container truck was parked inside the sprawling warehouse and men were unloading crates and inspecting the contents. Arms. Everything Luke could imagine: Kalashnikovs, M-16s, Uzis, AK-47s, Airsofts.
I am so dead, he thought. There was no way they were letting him go after what he was seeing.
There was a pale-blond older man looking on as one of the flunkies showed off a weapon Luke recognized as a Persuader, a favorite of private militias and terrorist organizations.
The older man was Tomasson’s father, Luke was sure. He turned as the lieutenant and Luke approached with the armed men around them.
Tomasson Senior was a more elegant version of his son; Luke even thought he might have met him in high school at some team event. The same white-blond hair, actually whiter because of age, the same square-cut face. The big difference was the eyes: the same light blue, but with far more depth of expression. And that depth gave Luke a glimmer of hope.
The lieutenant stopped in front of Tomasson. Luke did, too.
“This is the one,” Duncan said.
Tomasson looked Luke over. Luke looked back, straight in his eyes. “Kill him,” Tomasson said.
The guard beside Tomasson raised his weapon. Luke braced himself and thought of Aurora...
...and the guard shot Duncan, a volley straight into his chest. Duncan was blown back in a mist of blood.
Luke reflexively jumped three feet to the side. His heart was thudding out of control as he stared down at the lieutenant’s body, shocked and half-deafened. He could feel his boss’s blood on his face.
Tomasson Senior contemplated the corpse for a moment, then looked up at Luke. “He was careless. He assured me everything was under control. Instead, you nearly take down an important shipment. I have no room in my business for incompetence.”
He nodded to the men beside him. “Remove him,” Tomasson said. Two of Luke’s armed escorts put aside their weapons and moved to the body, each on one arm as they dragged him away.
I’m next, Luke thought with a sinking feeling. He glanced around at the stacked crates. It was a sobering number. What does this man have, a private army?
“Enough munitions here to end the world,” he said aloud. “Is that what you’re after?”
The older man smiled slightly. “Now, Detective Mars. Surely you don’t expect me to discuss my business with you.”
“You’re going to kill me, anyway,” Luke said, and meant it. “No harm in telling me what this is about.” And then he added courteously, “I’d appreciate it. I was working on this case for a long time. I’d like to die with some kind of closure.”
Tomasson raised his eyebrows. “Professional of you.” He studied Luke thoughtfully, and Luke got a sense he approved of what he saw. “Let me put it this way. The random chaos of the Arab nations has made it very simple for men of our complexion to move goods essentially wherever we want to.”
Luke stared at him, the pale skin, the blue eyes.
“Goods. Is that what we’re calling deadly armaments now?”
Tomasson shrugged. “Goods, for us.”
“You’re declaring war on the United States?”
Tomasson looked shocked. “I am a businessman. I buy. I sell. I offer transportation services.”
Luke’s eyes bored into the man. “So no politics involved at all. Just money.”
That earned another smile. “Spoken as one who has not learned to value money.”
Luke’s voice was hard. “I value life a little more.” He glanced around at the crates. “Whoever you’re selling these to, you’re facilitating bloodshed.”
The older man spread his hands almost amiably. “Bloodshed has been the way of the world since the beginning of time. Before man. Since the time of the gods.” He shrugged. “Who am I to change that?”
He studied Luke almost with amusement. “Take yourself. You may think of yourself as a man of peace, of the law. But how do you enforce that law? With arms and violence. Men rule the world. Men are a violent race. We live violently, we die violently. There is nothing to do to change that, so why not accept it?”
“Because it’s wrong,” Luke said through a tight jaw.
Tomasson shook his head. “You are Scandinavian, like myself. I believe you have heard the stories. We are in the last days. The signs are all here—the climate, the disasters, the wars, the meltdowns of nuclear plants. It has all been foretold since the first days. There is nothing any man can do to prevent Ragnarok.”
Ragnarok. The war between gods and giants—the end of the world. Luke shivered, hearing the word. Aurora had just spoken of it, and he felt another ripple at the repetition. It’s the spiral again, he thought, but aloud he said, “That sounds like nothing but a mythological excuse to profit by it.”
Anger flared in Tomasson’s face...and then he laughed. “And what would you do instead, prevent it? Tell me, how does one hold off the End of Days?”
“By stopping people like you,” Luke said.
“All of us?” Tomasson asked, smiling. “Someone will always profit by the collapse of nations. Who are you to say that it is not best to hasten the end? None of us know.”
“I know,” Luke said softly. “I’m a cop. A criminal is a criminal, no matter how lofty his words.”
The older man’s ey
es flickered with something Luke couldn’t interpret—a steely look, but there was admiration there, too.
“You are young and impetuous, like my own son. Although admittedly you have a different focus.” He looked at Luke thoughtfully. “But we are not so different. You are not of this country. You have done what you need to do to fit in, but the old blood runs in your veins. You are a countryman. Perhaps we could work together.”
Luke looked around incredulously at the five armed men standing ready to gun him down. “This is a hell of a way to conduct a job interview.”
Tomasson laughed with real amusement. “Exactly what I mean. Even in these circumstances, you are unfazed. I need a policeman...” He glanced at the bloodstained concrete where Duncan had died. “And frankly I would prefer a countryman. You would be useful to me—and I believe we could work together. However, you can also die.” He lifted his hands. “One way or the other, this shipment goes out today.”
Luke knew his time was running out. He’d kept Tomasson talking as long as he could; if he didn’t get out soon he was a dead man. He thought of Aurora, his guardian angel—if she had ever existed. This time, it seemed, he was on his own. But he would make one last stand.
* * *
Aurora sat forward in the seat of Pepper’s car, anxiously watching the curving road. Suddenly she felt a warmth in her heart, and raised her head.
Luke.
She was feeling his presence, feeling the connection again, a tug at her heartstrings.
“Luke...” she whispered. “Where are you?”
* * *
“Enough talk,” a voice growled from the doorway of the warehouse. “It’s time for you to die, cop.”
Bad news all around, Luke thought. He knew that voice. He knew the white-blond hair and ice-blue eyes, too.
The younger Tomasson moved forward, hefting his MP 40.
Bit of overkill there, buddy, isn’t it? Luke thought with gallows humor. He’d seen what the weapon could do at nowhere near this close a range. Tomasson might just as well launch a nuclear warhead at him.
Luke thought again of Aurora and hoped that wherever she was, whoever she was, if she was real, she knew that he loved her.
Loved her?
Yes, loved her.
Tomas looked at Luke with contempt. “You always were such a good guy.”
“And you were always such a bad one,” Luke said. At this point what the hell?
Tomasson Junior raised the gun again. But instead of firing, he scowled. “Before you die, I want to know what happened back there on the pier.”
For a moment Luke had no idea what he was talking about. And then he remembered—unless the whole thing had been some kind of hallucination—that Tomas had been about to fire on him and then time had stopped; the bullets had stopped in midair, and Aurora had walked Luke right out of the tableau, leaving Tomas frozen in time. When Tomas and his thugs came to, they would have been staring down at nothing but scattered bullets and an empty pier. Luke almost laughed aloud, picturing how disoriented they’d be.
“Oh, that little trick?” he said nonchalantly. “A new technology SFPD is trying out. Stops bullets in midair. Sweet. But how can it be that you arms dealers have never heard of it? Bit behind the curve, aren’t you?” He nodded at the MP 40 Tomas was holding. “We’re talking technology that will make that little toy of yours obsolete. Bound to cut into your profits some...”
Tomasson Senior was looking from Luke to Tomas with an intrigued, almost waiting expression. Tomas was confounded, then angry. It was clear he didn’t believe Luke; at the same time what had happened back on the pier was so impossible that Luke was providing at least a glimmer of a rational explanation.
Luke realized in some corner of his mind that the fact that Tomasson was actually asking the question meant that it all had happened. That Aurora was out there somewhere and he had more to live for than he ever had before.
And that’s when he made a break for it.
* * *
In the car Aurora cried out, “Stop!” startling Pepper, who braked too hard. “Stop,” she said again, although he was already slowing, pulling over to the shoulder of the road. “It’s here. He’s here.”
She was reaching for the door handle, scrambling out of the car before it was quite still.
“Hey,” Pepper said, bolting out of the car after her. She was already at the edge of the shoulder, looking down at the estate.
“Shit,” Pepper said, staring at the massive compound. “They’re not fooling around.”
“He’s there. I have to go in,” Aurora said, and started down the hill.
“Oh, no,” Pepper said, grabbing her arm. “You can’t go down there.”
Aurora could feel Luke inside, so close...the feeling was strong enough to lead her. Maybe. “I have to,” she said. “Thank you for everything.”
And as Pepper watched, stupefied, she took off running down the hill...and ran right through the guard wall.
* * *
Aurora slammed through the wall of the compound and found herself in front of an imposing mansion on a cliff above the ocean.
I made it. I’m not completely human yet. Going through the wall had been painful, an explosion of sensation she’d never actually felt before, but she was inside.
She ducked behind a tree for cover, took a breath and looked carefully around her.
There was something foreboding about the place; this was not what anyone would call a family home. Her heart sank to think of Luke in there.
In the distance she could see men patrolling the perimeter with scary-looking guns. She wasn’t sure if she was visible or not. She looked around her, glancing toward the house, then to the big building off to the side of the house, wondering which way to go.
Then she felt a burst of adrenaline, which she knew was coming from Luke. She wasn’t too late, then, but he was in danger, immediate danger.
* * *
Once again Luke was running for his life through a maze of stacked crates. Major déjà vu, he thought. Third time’s the charm, right? It better be.
He had one last desperate plan, and he doubted he would survive it, but it might just work.
If he could get these goons to fire in the right direction, it might set the whole warehouse off. He knew that where there were arms, there was ammo, and more than likely explosives like C-4, and it wouldn’t take much of that to cause an explosion that would take out the building and everything in it. He’d probably die but the arms would never get to whoever they were going to, and that could only be a good thing. It was worth a shot...
If he was going to die, he could at least choose to make it count.
* * *
There was a booming crack of thunder as Aurora ran down the tree-lined path toward the side of the building, her breath harsh in her throat. And then, infinitely worse, a burst of gunfire came from the warehouse. Aurora stopped dead, as if she’d been shot.
Simultaneously there was more thundering through the clouds. Wind raced through the trees, whipping the branches above her into a frenzy.
But that was no ordinary thunder.
It was the sound of hooves.
As she ran forward again, Aurora flung her head upward to look.
What she saw turned her to ice. In the dark thunderheads, there were horses—a whole flank of them—galloping across the sky. The riders had silver breastplates and long, luxuriant hair.
The Valkyries. They rode hard, eyes shining and hair streaming behind them, drinking horns swinging from their necks. Beautiful and deadly, with Val triumphantly at the head of the pack.
And Aurora knew.
“No!”
The machine-gun fire had ceased.
Aurora dashed around the curve of the path...and stopped in her tracks. Luke’s body lay on the packed earth before her.
Aurora threw herself on her knees beside him, reaching for him, touching him, through blinding tears. A silent cry shuddered through her body. She was too late
. His body was lifeless; there was no sense of him in it at all.
He’d made his choice, and he’d died for it.
Aurora looked up into the sky as the beautiful warriors raced their horses and thundered away. And at the head of the pack, Luke rode with Val, across the sky and into the clouds.
Aurora gathered Luke’s body into her arms and sobbed.
Chapter 19
In the land known as Asgard, the dwelling place of the Aesir, the palace called Valhalla rose up in the midst of a lush field of flowers.
Warrior Luke Mars was one of the dwellers in the palace. And life in Asgard was the only life Luke had ever known.
He knew that in his existence before Valhalla, he had lived as a mortal in the world known as Midgard; all the warrior Einherjar had been mortals once. But it could have been a million lifetimes ago for all he remembered of it. And there was so very much to help him forget.
Asgard was the loveliest of the Nine Realms, a land more fertile than any other, blessed also with a great abundance of gold and jewels. The gods and goddesses were beyond all beings in beauty, strength and talent. The palace in which Luke lived, Valhalla, was one of the three eternal palaces of Odin Allfather, the greatest and oldest of all the Aesir, the great god of war, battle, victory and death, and also of wisdom, magic, poetry, prophecy and the hunt.
The doors of an ancient gate stood before the hall, guarded by warriors, and those gates opened on command onto a throughway that led to the ancient palace. Before the hall stood a magnificent tree with leaves glowing red-gold: Glasir, the most beautiful tree among gods and men.
The palace itself was gigantic: five hundred and forty doors that eight hundred men could exit from at once. The vast main hall was made out of gold, with golden spears and coats of mail hanging all around; the roof of the hall was thatched with golden shields like shingles. The gleam of all the gold made Valhalla look from a distance like the sun itself.
Inside the hall lived the Einherjar, warriors like Luke who had died gloriously in battle. Each day Odin sent his Valkyries—some of them Norns, some the souls of beautiful and strong women warriors—out all around the world to select and collect the souls of these valiant warriors and escort them to Valhalla to serve in Odin’s army, the army that would fight for the Allfather and the gods at Ragnarok.
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