Iron Angels

by Eric Flint

  He fought to keep his breathing under control and stepped carefully, avoiding the hardwood floor and remaining on the rug poking out from beneath the bed. The rug would take him near the bedroom door, which he kept closed and locked. For a brief moment, he entertained the daft idea Lucy had come home, but he doused the notion as fast as it entered his mind. He wasn’t even sure he wanted Lucy back any longer.

  So, definitely not Lucy, and Temple didn’t have a key. He never gave anyone else a key.

  In the complete silence, he cursed himself for shutting and locking the bedroom door—if he unlocked or opened the door whoever roamed about his place would hear.

  He stepped toward the door, one foot on the hardwood and the other on the rug. His fingers reached for the lock.

  A crack split the silence in two. The bedroom door splintered at the jamb and flew open.

  Jasper shielded his face without thinking.

  An unseen force hit him hard in the midsection, sending him backward on his bed.

  He gasped for air and in the dark saw a man standing at the foot of the bed. An unremarkable man with a shaved head and generic features. The man smiled. Movement behind the man caught Jasper’s eye—another person. So, at least two people were in the condo.

  The man held a finger to his lips—as if Jasper would simply obey and be quiet. They planned on kidnapping Jasper.

  Jasper rolled off the bed once more and raised his weapon. “Not another step. Hear me?”

  The man’s smile disappeared, replaced with a contemplative look.

  “Hands up! Now!”

  His would-be kidnapper stood his ground and didn’t obey, keeping his hands flat against his sides.

  Another man appeared in the doorway behind the first. Metal clanked against the floor—the implement they used for entering his room, no doubt.

  “Raise your hands and get down on your knees.”

  The man grinned and took a step toward him.

  “Stop right there.” These freaks were itching to get shot.

  A blow from the side knocked Jasper down. His Glock slid under the bed.

  “Fuck.”

  Another man—a third one—grabbed Jasper’s arm, but exerted no control and leaned awkwardly over him. The man obviously lacked training in hand-to-hand fighting. Jasper stood rather easily since his elbow remained free, and broke the man’s grip on his wrist. Something pricked Jasper’s shoulder. In response, he backfisted the man on the bridge of the nose. The man stumbled back, dropped a syringe and held his nose—by doing so, also covered his eyes. Jasper found his footing, rotated his hips, and followed with a side blade kick, sending the man into the wall and on his ass.

  Jasper spun his attention back to the man who’d knocked him onto the bed. A crowbar lay on the ground behind the man. The first man resembled one of the men who had incinerated themselves at the Euclid, and acted just as oddly.

  The man’s face appeared puzzled, as if he didn’t understand how his cohort ended up slumped against the wall, moaning.

  Jasper moved for the man, figuring his ineptness matched the other one’s, but someone else lurked about, he was sure.

  But the men were amateurs, and Jasper took another step. The closest man backed up, toward the door, as if luring him through.

  Jasper dropped to the floor and reached under the bed for his Glock. His fingers gripped the handle and he pulled the gun from under the bed and jumped to his feet.

  The man was gone. Jasper’s gaze darted about the room. Crumpled man down against the wall. Check. Movement beyond the bedroom door? None.

  A banging from below caught his attention. One of the neighbors on the floor below poked a broom into the ceiling. If this kept up they’d be knocking on his door soon and calling the cops. Either way the situation at the moment wasn’t too bad. The would-be kidnappers had screwed up big time. At least one of them was going to jail tonight.

  “Show me your hands.” Jasper raised his Glock, keeping the weapon depressed slightly, his eyes above the night sights.

  Crickets.

  More banging from below. He stomped on the floor.

  He glanced to his right and back on the door again—the man he’d kicked sagged against the wall.

  Jasper moved for the doorframe. He moved diagonally left on the doorway so as to keep an eye on the man inside the bedroom and also scan as much as he could of the living room on the other side of his door. The downside was the small hallway connecting his bedroom with the living room. But no one moved within the funnel. His diagonal view only provided a slice of the living room.

  “Step to where I can see you. Now!” he yelled down the hallway. “That means into view of the hallway, you dumb fucks.”

  And yet more banging from below—louder and with more force. Boy, his neighbors were gonna have dents in their ceiling.

  Now, if these clowns carried firearms, kidnapping him at gunpoint would make sense. But these men weren’t the brightest bulbs apparently.

  A door slammed.

  Jasper hesitated for a moment, torn between going after the rest of his assailants or staying in the room to make sure the one he’d captured didn’t escape. But it didn’t take him long to choose the first option. Maybe he’d get lucky and the man against the wall wouldn’t recover quickly enough to escape.

  “Screw it.” Jasper abandoned all caution and ran down the hallway, his bare feet slapping the floor. He only wore shorts to bed, but at least it was hot inside and outside.

  As he crossed the threshold from hallway to living room he glanced about frantically searching for his attackers. The front door stood half-open.

  He glanced into the kitchen as he ran by, and reached the open front door in another second. The streetlamps glowed; swarms of insects flittered about the light, providing the only movement in the parking lot. Where did the men get to already?

  Rustling and a thump came from behind him—his bedroom. A slam, like a window hitting the top of the frame made him wince. Another thump, more distant, followed.

  A car started and tires squealed, drawing his attention back down to the parking lot. From the right, a man, favoring his left leg, raced for the car as it neared the parking lot’s exit.

  “Stop!” Jasper yelled, but understood the futility.

  The car’s brake lights lit and the tires locked up, as if they’d stopped for his command, but he knew better. He stood on the walkway of his second floor condo and squinted at the license plate—none, removed from the car. The third man glanced up at Jasper as he opened the car door and disappeared inside. They took off in the mid-sized sedan, but no details stood out, and the color, in this light, was impossible to determine.

  Power. Did they simply hit a circuit breaker or had they done worse? Jasper checked the box—the breakers were in place. He grabbed a flashlight and checked the outside—the bastards cut the power at the meter. He sighed.

  He trotted back inside and made for the bedroom. His toe caught a solid hunk of metal on the floor, and he fell forward. He squeezed his foot. His eyes welled and he sucked in air, hissing.

  “Fuck!”

  They’d left the crowbar. As his pain softened and his toe stopped throbbing, he thought over their entry tactics. He examined the front door and found where they pried it open. They must have been quiet, or happened to open the door when his phone buzzed.

  He grabbed his cell phone and sat on the edge of his bed. Sleep was never going to be a part of his life any time soon. Not until this case was over, at least. He stared at the phone.

  Call Pete? Maybe. No. His old pal didn’t want any part of this business.

  Call his boss, Johnson? Absolutely not.

  Temple? Yes.

  He hit a button on the phone and remembered Penny called him right before the attack. Shit. She said Carlos was missing—well, she said his truck was found alongside the road.

  He dialed Pete—his old partner wasn’t thrilled, but confirmed for him through the department they had indeed found Carlos
’s vehicle. He also reported no mangled corpses discovered in the vicinity. Pete asked what was wrong, but Jasper insisted all was fine.

  Next, he phoned Temple and explained the situation. She was on her way over.

  He dialed Penny and told her Pete’s information, and assured her the matter was being looked into, but didn’t tell her about his attack.

  Finally, his finger rested on his boss’s number. He debated how the interaction would go, but decided against telling his boss anything. Sure, strange men broke into his residence, but other than bruises on both sides and some property damage, what would he tell Johnson? Cult members tried kidnapping him probably for a sacrifice to space creatures from another universe? No. ASAC Masters would kick Temple out of Indiana and transfer Jasper to closed files where he couldn’t hurt anyone.

  But—if they found out he hid the attack from them, he’d be in more trouble. The investigation needed to be worked to conclusion—by him, by SAG. The locals would never look at something like this so fantastic. They’d just call the Bureau for help since this was, in their mind, a messy situation, both figuratively and literally, and easily handed over to the FBI.

  “I’m buying into all of this, aren’t I?” Jasper asked into the darkness. He’d slid off the edge and leaned against the side of the bed. “I can’t believe I’m falling for—”

  “Falling for what?” a female voice asked. His skin prickled. Temple. He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d taken.

  “Well?”

  “Thank goodness you’re here.” Jasper got to his feet.

  “What in the hell happened here? And your power is off, by the way,” she said.

  “No, really?”

  “All right, wiseass. Calm down. I’m here to help, okay?”

  “I’m sorry. Rough night.” Jasper placed his Glock on the nightstand and tossed his phone on the bed. “What a mess.”

  He gave her the blow by blow of the incident.

  She whistled.

  “Yeah, and the guy whose ass I kicked into the wall will probably sue me.” Jasper laughed. “Be my luck. Oh, and I didn’t breathe a single word of this to my boss yet. If ASAC Masters finds out, it’ll end poorly for me, and likely get you kicked out of Indianapolis’s AOR.”

  A siren blared in the distance.

  “Shit. You call the cops?” Jasper walked to his bedroom window and peered out.

  “Nope.”

  “My neighbors, I bet. They were hitting their ceiling with a broom of something.” He glanced at the windowsill; a few drops of blood smeared the wood. “Blood.”

  “Yours?”

  “No, the guy who is hurting right now. He went out the window here when I pursued his buddies.”

  The siren cut through the dense air. Boy, his neighbors would have a lot to discuss with the cops in a few seconds. He leaned out of the window, but from this angle, the parking lot was only partially visible. A dark, unmarked cruiser pulled up curbside near the front entrance of the building. A dashboard light strobed as did the wigwags in the grill.

  Thumping and pounding filled his apartment.

  “Here we go,” Jasper said. “You might want to have your creds in your raised hands when we open the door.”

  “Right.” Temple’s eyes were wide and worried. “You’ve had this happen before? Blue on blue?”

  “No, but I’ve been on the other end, when we’ve dropped in on some corrupt law enforcement.”

  Jasper pulled out his creds and Temple followed suit.

  The pounding continued.

  “Jasper,” a voice yelled from the other side of the door.

  The voice was familiar, though muffled.

  “It’s Pete. Open the damn door.”

  Jasper sighed. “My old partner, you met him near Animal Control.”

  “Oh, right. I remember.”

  He opened the door and Pete’s face was drained of its color.

  “You okay?” Jasper asked.

  “I was worried about you, my friend. Ever since the night outside the Euclid, when we both, well,” he glanced down at the ground, “you know what we saw.”

  “Pete, I appreciate the concern, I do, but—”

  “What did you two see, again?” Temple stepped forward.

  Pete glanced at her, and his shoulders and head jolted, as if he didn’t noticed her. “We—I can’t.” He crossed himself and pulled a crucifix on a silver chain from inside his shirt, and pressed the metal to his lips.

  “A religious experience for you as well.”

  Pete remained silent.

  “Pete, why are you here, really?”

  “On the phone, you sounded shook up a bit, as if you’d been in a fight. Or I thought someone was holding you against your will.”

  “They tried. Here, come in.” Jasper gestured for him to enter.

  “Ever hear of lights?” Pete’s head swiveled has he took in the apartment.

  “They cut the power. And they left behind a crowbar—” Jasper pointed at the hunk of metal on the floor.

  Pete frowned. “Serious, these people. They try to kill you?”

  “No. I think I was to be a kidnap victim. Sacrificed or tortured perhaps.”

  Pete crossed himself again.

  “When did you become so into the church again?” Jasper asked.

  “What we witnessed the other night, you know, the haze outside the Euclid after we rescued the little girl…” Pete looked at the floor again, and licked his lips. “It forced me to rethink certain parts of my life.”

  Jasper patted him on the shoulder. “Need a drink?”

  Pete laughed. “And here I headed over to rescue you.”

  “I do need your help—”

  “Anything,” Pete said. “Anything within reason.” He smiled.

  Jasper grinned. “Please keep the attack on the down-low.”

  “Not reporting stuff to your management again, eh?”

  Temple grinned, as did Jasper, and finally Pete smiled broadly.

  More sirens blared in the distance.

  Jasper raised an eyebrow at Pete.

  “Not me. This isn’t even my jurisdiction, this ritzy area you live in.”

  “There will be no hiding this from my management, not if the neighbors have anything to add, and if the media gets wind of an attack involving an FBI agent in his own home, the whole affair may be sunk.”

  “Leave it to me,” Pete said. “I’ll smooth the mess over with the local police.”

  Chapter 29

  Lali watched as Rao lined up the three khâu sent to deal with the FBI agent she’d met at the diner, this Z. Jasper Wilde. Lali understood the consequences of kidnapping a federal officer and the attention it would draw, but if he disappeared permanently, and with no trace, how long would the investigation last?

  The three khâu stood chained together on a metal platform across a gap from Rao, shivering. Soaked robes clung to their bodies, dripping ice cold water which Rao called down on them from above with a flourish. Magic to these idiots, clever, but Lali had spied Rao’s use of existing mechanics and plumbing inside the petrochemical plant.

  The sniveling and groveling fools had failed Rao, which only made Lali look better. Rao was clear that locating competent people to join a cause such as the Câ Tsang proved difficult at best, for if they entertained independent thought, endless questions would pour forth from them.

  Lali had separated herself from the khâu, proving her worth and securing a place beside Rao. He glanced at her and smiled, a twinkle shot from those dead black eyes. He saw through her ambition, there was no doubt about that, but she had no doubt that although he’d attempt to cull her ambition she’d be able to handle it.

  “You three. You failed—how is this so, when a single woman,” Rao gestured at Lali, “managed to not only gather intelligence in the furtherance of the Iron Thorn’s cause, but also provided a sacrifice worthy of calling down the mighty nâga, and in doing so, granting me access to the power of their world. Eulalia h
as risen to adept while you three are—”

  Rao wrapped his fingers around a heavy, linked chain and yanked down hard. A pulley above whistled and creaked, and the chain rattled.

  Below Rao, in the gap separating him from the khâu and Lali, a crimson sheet rose.

  Lali smiled.

  “Eulalia,” Rao waved her over, summoning her to his side. “You belong with Rao, at his side, not with those,” he sneered, “khâu.”

  Lali’s head dipped. A sign of obedience and reverence; an act, but necessary. Her move from the platform of shame to Rao’s platform of radiance took only a few seconds as she glided across the walkway, her booted feet barely making a sound against the metal.

  None of the khâu reacted to his words, and showed no anger as Lali ascended and joined Rao.

  “Behold,” Rao said, “the Sha ’Lu lashed to the platform, the sacrifice upon which the greatest of all nâga will feast, extracting the precious honey and granting access to a place both wonderful and terrible, but full of power.”

  The crimson sheet rose, the edges falling in as the silk broke the surface of the slab beneath, appearing as a giant handkerchief hanging limp between pinching fingers. Beneath, a man struggled against his bonds on an immense metal slab.

  “Perfect.” Rao reached for Lali’s hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. She suppressed a shiver as the man’s power arced through her.

  A blindfold covered the sacrifice’s eyes, and another cloth gagged him. A spare swath of cloth, a loincloth, lay across the man’s hips. Rao’s jaw clenched—he understood all too well that the man down there, Carlos, had been her lover. Lali tried not to think on that too much, and while Carlos had treated her poorly, did he deserve sacrifice? Such a horrible death? Well, maybe. Carlos threatened her and threatened the Câ Tsang—but more importantly, he could be an impediment to her continued rise and eventual assumption of Rao’s power.

  “This evening, once we’ve retrieved our other target, all will be well.” Rao fixed his gaze on Lali. “Well with us, but also the nâga. Two sacrifices mean two may enter the other world beyond the membrane.” He grinned, but wasted no time in flattening that same grin and turning his attention back to the khâu and the wriggling sacrifice upon the slab.