Destiny

by A D Starrling

  Asgard’s ears reddened. ‘I think you overestimate me.’

  ‘I’ve gleaned he was also as stubborn as a mule and could never accept a compliment,’ Madeleine added drily.

  ‘It’s not just us who came back,’ Olivia said in the silence that followed. She glanced at Zachary, Asgard, and Madeleine, her expression hardening. ‘Crovir and Bastian are alive.’

  Victor inhaled sharply. ‘That—that’s impossible!’

  ‘We sensed them,’ Olivia stated emphatically. ‘The others in Boston did too. The kings are living and breathing somewhere in this world, right now.’

  Victor exchanged a shocked glance with Dimitri.

  ‘I know,’ Dimitri murmured. ‘I too am finding that hard to believe.’

  Victor pinched his forehead, his mind racing. ‘The reason I’m saying it’s impossible is because the bodies of Crovir and Bastian are in a secret facility in Mongolia right now.’

  ‘How certain are you of this?’ Asgard said.

  Victor clenched his jaw and nodded jerkily. ‘As certain as I can be.’

  ‘After what happened in the Ural Mountains, we moved the tombs and the hearts,’ Dimitri said, pacing the floor in front of the fireplace. ‘We sent them, along with Asgard’s seal, to one of the Bastian facilities in North Europe. And there they stayed for a good eleven months.’

  ‘When Ivan Vlašic became Head of the Order of Crovir Hunters six years ago, he suggested a shared facility to host the artifacts,’ Victor went on, ‘one that would be manned by both Bastian and Crovir Hunters. He believed it would help foster trust between the two societies. I agreed.’

  ‘Who monitors it?’ Zachary asked.

  ‘Both societies. There is strict protocol in place, with twice-daily check-ins between the command center at the base and both Orders of Hunters. We designed it so it would be fail-safe.’

  ‘Well, it failed,’ Madeleine muttered in the ensuing hush.

  Victor stared at them blindly for a moment. He took his cell out and dialed a number. The call connected seconds later. He put it on speaker.

  ‘This is Dvorsky. What’s the latest report from the facility in Mongolia?’

  It was nearly a minute before the Hunter at the command post in the headquarters of the Bastian First Council got back to him.

  ‘All clear, sir,’ the man said briskly.

  Victor narrowed his eyes. ‘No anomalies? Any unexplained events or delays in reporting?’

  ‘None that I’ve noted.’ The Bastian Hunter paused. ‘The only remotely interesting thing that’s ever happened out there was that power surge two years ago.’

  Victor’s mouth went dry. ‘When was this?’

  ‘October 2015. It was a non-event. Whole thing lasted less than ten minutes. The guys in the command post were back online straight after.’ The Hunter hesitated. ‘I’m sorry, sir. It wasn’t even worth mentioning to you.’

  Victor thanked the man and disconnected, hoping his suspicions were wrong.

  His gaze shifted to Zachary and the laptop on the side table next to him. ‘Can we ask Eva to bring up the facility?’

  A live satellite feed of the location appeared inside a window on Zachary’s computer a few minutes later. There wasn’t much to see except for dark mountains and forests.

  ‘The entrance is concealed,’ Victor said in response to the puzzled expressions that came his way. ‘It’s under that cliff to the east. Eva, do you detect anything unusual on the site?’

  The AI switched the satellite view to night vision mode before zooming in on different sections of the peak he’d indicated and the forest covering its inclines.

  ‘Not at first glance,’ Eva said after a moment. ‘I see no sign of a recent assault. No burn marks or explosive craters on the ground or in the trees. The facility’s energy usage is steady.’

  Asgard leaned forward and frowned at the screen.

  ‘How many men are normally stationed there?’ he said, glancing at Victor.

  ‘There should be around forty Hunters on location at any one time.’

  Dimitri’s eyes widened as he registered the meaning behind Asgard’s question. ‘Eva, can you use ground-penetrating radar and infra-red imagery to see how many men are in and around the facility right now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  They waited while Eva connected with the relevant orbiting satellites. When she was done, another window popped open on the monitor.

  ‘I count only seventeen heat signals,’ Eva said as they stared at the colored smudges on the screen. ‘Nine outside and eight inside.’

  Victor cursed and grabbed his cell.

  Asgard reached over and stayed his hand.

  ‘Wait,’ he said in a steely voice. ‘Eva, how long would it take to fly there?’

  ‘Eight hours,’ Eva replied. ‘If you leave now, you will reach Khövsgöl Lake at around oh eight hundred hours local time tomorrow morning. The facility is in the Eastern Sayan Mountains, fifty miles west of the lake and ten miles south of the Mongolian-Russian border.’

  ‘It’s better if a small group of us goes there,’ Asgard told Victor. ‘If you call the entire cavalry in, their spies might find out and warn them.’

  ‘Asgard is right,’ Dimitri said.

  Victor hesitated. ‘It would be useful if I had substantial proof when I face Vlašic.’

  ‘Can we come?’ Olivia asked Asgard. She glanced at Zachary.

  The Harvard professor dipped his chin, his hand finding the handle of the broadsword once more.

  Surprise flashed in Asgard’s eyes as he studied their eager expressions. ‘I—it could prove dangerous. I was going to suggest a team of Hunters.’

  ‘We know,’ Olivia said. ‘But it should be us.’

  ‘We want to see,’ Zachary said.

  ‘Want to see what?’ Anna said, puzzled.

  Zachary and Olivia exchanged another guarded look.

  ‘If the presence of our predecessors’ souls will influence our fighting skills,’ Olivia replied quietly.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A sick feeling churned in President James Westwood’s stomach as he stared at his Director of National Intelligence across the width of the Oval Office. ‘Is it as bad as Yuma?’

  Sarah Connelly sighed and nodded grimly. ‘Yes, James. We started raiding the offices of General Miller and his known associates in the DoD and SOCOM yesterday. Three hours ago, one of the intelligence analysts in charge of examining the data on the computers seized by the NSA identified a series of encrypted files. She decoded them and forwarded them to me in the last forty-five minutes. Considering where we found this information, there is little reason to doubt its authenticity.’

  Connelly took a shallow breath. ‘In 1968, four nuclear submarines belonging to different sovereign states went missing under what can only be called mystifying circumstances. An American Skipjack-class sub in the Atlantic, a Russian Golf II-class ballistic missile sub in the Pacific, a modified British T-Class sub commissioned by the Israelis in the Mediterranean, and a Daphné-class French sub, also in the Mediterranean.’

  Connelly paused.

  Westwood clenched his teeth. ‘Spill it, Sarah.’

  Connelly opened the folder on the coffee table and pulled out black and white photographs of the submarines. ‘It appears that all four suffered the same fate, a fate Miller and his predecessors appear to have had full knowledge of. Their goal was to get their hands on the subs’ nuclear reactors.’

  Westwood’s pulse jumped. He leaned forward and examined the pictures. ‘To what aim?’ He glanced at Connelly with a frown. ‘Was it to sell the parts on the black market?’

  Connelly shook her head. ‘No. The files are not clear as to what they intended to do with the reactors after they stole them. I’ve had the CIA take a quick look at the intel we have from that time. There is no indication of any countries suddenly obtaining an unknown supply of enriched uranium.’ She hesitated. ‘Whatever it was, I suspect it had something to do with their super sol
dier program. And there’s more.’

  Westwood raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean to tell me there’s something worse than four nuclear reactors going AWOL fifty years ago, our people knowing about it, and me potentially having to make some embarrassing phone calls to some heads of state in the next hour?’

  Connelly pursed her lips at his sardonic tone. ‘It depends how you look at it but, yeah, I think this is equally bad, James.’

  Westwood sighed. ‘Sorry. Go ahead.’

  By the time Connelly finished telling him about the rest of the information the NSA analyst had uncovered from the encrypted files, Westwood’s hands had fisted in anger and dread.

  The stakes had just escalated dramatically. This was now about much more than the fate of a couple of kids who had gone missing from an island in the Pacific, or the discovery of the primary US Army group who had been assisting rogue Immortals in their work on super soldiers.

  He rose from the sofa and crossed the carpet to the oak desk that dominated the room. It had survived numerous presidencies since it was first gifted to President Rutherford Hayes by Queen Victoria in the nineteenth century, among them his first administration. It was an administration that would not have seen its full term in office had he succumbed to the gunshot wound he had suffered half a decade ago at the hands of one of the last true heirs of the Ottoman Empire. He suppressed a grimace as he absentmindedly trailed his fingers across the polished wood.

  Technically, I did die.

  The existence of Immortals was a fact he had become used to in the past few years. He had similarly become well versed in the politics of Immortal-human interaction during that time. Of the heads of state who knew of the existence of the Crovirs and the Bastians, Westwood knew he was at a distinct advantage and the most confident when it came to dealing with the leaders of the powerful races who had inhabited the Earth alongside humans for several millennia.

  Victor Dvorsky’s moral code was one that aligned itself with Westwood’s own ethos. They both wanted the best for humans and Immortals alike, and they had worked to strengthen their diplomatic relationships over the last five years. The Bastian Immortal was a skilled politician who had witnessed, and participated in, some of the bloodiest moments of mankind’s history, and it showed in the way he handled the UN Council and other world leaders.

  As for Ivan Vlašic, the Crovir Immortal was still proving a hard man to read. Although their interactions were civil, Westwood could not help but feel he liked to keep his cards close to his chest. Judging from the information he’d gleaned from Dvorsky and his own predecessor in the White House, it was a known personality trait of most Crovirs.

  And then there was the man who had given him a piece of his own soul to bring him back to life. Conrad Greene, an Immortal gifted with the power to heal and resurrect the dead. A man who could have become incredibly powerful in the Immortal societies had he not chosen a life of simplicity instead. The existence of other Immortals like Greene, men and women who were related to him in a distant fashion and who were equally talented in their own special ways, had apparently come as a surprise even to Dvorsky. That these Immortals also lived under the radar and had never leveraged their authority was nothing short of a miracle.

  From what little information the Bastian leader had shared with him, Greene and his cousins were royalty descended from the very first of their kind. They could have taken over the Immortal societies if they had wished to do so. And they could have reshaped the relationship between the superior Immortal races and the weaker human race into the one that had existed before.

  A relationship between kings and vassals. Between gods and slaves.

  Westwood traced a complex pattern in the wood.

  The pieces of a puzzle. That’s what this feels like. A puzzle stretching over time and involving Immortals and humans alike. One that has its origins in the past. One that may very well be coming to its inevitable conclusion.

  A shudder ran through him. He wondered whether humans would survive the outcome, whatever it turned out to be.

  ‘James?’ Connelly said softly behind him.

  Westwood closed his eyes briefly. He knew what needed to be done.

  He twisted on his heels and leaned against the desk as he faced Connelly once more.

  ‘I’ll speak to Victor and Vlašic,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘You get the Secretary of Defense and the National Security Advisor on board. What’s our state of play for Nevada?’

  Connelly smiled faintly. ‘Our troops are almost ready to deploy.’

  Westwood hesitated. ‘If super soldiers are involved, then we should—’

  ‘Already one step ahead of you,’ Connelly said. ‘I caught them just before they were about to take off for Europe. They’re on their way to meet up with our men.’ Her eyes glinted. ‘These soldiers know a thing or two about Immortals. They’ve worked with them before.’

  Westwood studied Connelly’s confident expression. He’d been a widower for over a decade now, having lost his childhood sweetheart and the only woman he had ever loved to a long, hard battle with cancer. In that time, he had been approached by countless women, women who were as interested in the man as they were in the office he had been aiming for ever since he had become a senator twelve years ago. Unfortunately, the only one who had captured his attention was the woman currently sitting across from him, her face set in determined lines. Though he knew he was an ass for thinking it, he was grateful her job kept her too busy to be in a relationship.

  He sighed. ‘What would I do without you?’

  Connelly blinked. ‘It scares the shit out of me to even think about that, James, so let’s not go there.’

  The vision came with a suddenness that nearly robbed her of her breath. Lily bolted upright as the vivid images blasted through her consciousness and raised the hairs on her body.

  She was vaguely aware that she was back in her cell and lying on the cot. Tomas’s presence echoed faintly at the back of her mind, the mental pictures reverberating across their connection with such strength that they’d woken him too. Lily fisted her hands in the bed sheet and stared blindly ahead, unable to control the vision sweeping over her.

  The enemy was legion. Men who were neither human nor Immortal. Soulless creatures engineered rather than birthed. Abominations wrought from the unholy work of power-hungry beings. Beings who wished a return to a bloody past, one where the human realm was ruled with violence and greed.

  Fighting them throughout the underground complex was a second, smaller army, this one made up of humans and Immortals alike. At their lead were seven beings. Five men and two women.

  Five of them were marked Immortals whose destiny it was to guide both their own kind and the human race to redemption.

  Of the two unmarked beings beside them, one was the reborn soul who had given birth to two Immortal kings, and the other was the human prince who had witnessed their downfall.

  There were others there too. Souls who were not meant to be sentient but who had awoken after millennia of sleep. Souls who were willing to grant their divine strength and the echoes of their gifts to the ones descended from their bloodlines.

  A cry left Lily’s lips. Tomas shouted her name, his voice ringing in her ears, his horror reflected in his frantic tone. Lily could only watch helplessly as the terrible vision continued to unfold.

  She did not see the fatal blow that brought him down. One moment he was wielding his weapon, the next he had fallen. His death, when it came, was in the arms of someone he loved. The knowledge that he would not rise again sank into the consciousness of the marked souls and brought forth their rage. They screamed their outrage, the unholy battle intensifying around them as their wrath augmented their powers.

  Sweat drenched Lily’s clothes and her heart thundered inside her chest as the vision faded. She had barely begun to catch her breath when the next one followed.

  They stood on the summit of a semicircular ridge, in a sea of white. There were seven of them once more
. Five marked and two unmarked.

  The remnants of their army had pulled back a short distance behind the crest of land and crouched next to a sea of vehicles, inside a shallow basin. Many were unconscious. Most were wounded. Some were still able to stand. All faced east, watching, waiting, an expectant silence blooming across their shrunken numbers.

  Brightness flared on the horizon. It expanded, a rapidly growing cloud that shook the very earth and sky.

  Then came fire and fury like the world had never seen.

  Lily gulped air in deep, shuddering breaths when the second vision ended.

  She froze in the next instant as further visions danced across her inner sight, all infinitesimally short yet as intense as the others. For a moment, she could not comprehend what she had just seen. Hope and wonderment burst forth inside her when the reality of what it was she had witnessed sank in. She blinked back tears.

  Lily?

  Tomas’s distress swamped her mind, his sorrow at what was to come threatening to drown her.

  It’s okay. It’ll be okay, Tomas.

  Lily closed her eyes and shared her last visions with him, the ones he had not perceived. She heard his gasp and sensed excitement and relief erupt inside him. It was followed by the same wonder that now filled her.

  Are those—?

  I think so.

  And he will—?

  Yes.

  Lily thought of the men they had seen that morning. The Immortals who had been long dead and, yet, were alive again, thanks to her and Tomas’s blood. The kings who had been returned to this realm.

  She frowned and curled her hands into fists. We will find a way.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The man walked steadily between the two kings. He had deliberately showed them the more simple levels of the complex first, to get them used to the technology and architecture that was far beyond their times. From their guarded expressions, he knew they were coming to terms with the dizzying developments of a future they could not have foreseen.