Hammer of the Gods

by B. D. MacCallum

  “Wait!” Sorina grabbed his arm as Thor started to pass. Her hand was warm on his skin, but so was a match just before it burned. “I knew nothing of this, I swear. But I’ve seen what this thing can do to a man, and you’ve seen what it takes to kill it. If there is another out there, we will need all the help we can get, wouldn’t you agree?”

  He had half a mind to tell her what the thing did to three thousand soldiers, but he could sense she was scared enough, already. “I agree, but Bryndis needs to learn when to stop interfering.” He gazed into Sorina’s deep-brown eyes, not letting himself be drawn in … too deeply; it was still possible she could be just a distraction Bryndis put in his path, even if she did not realize it. “There’s something I have to do.”

  “May I join you?” she asked, sunlight sparkling in those beautiful eyes.

  “It’s your place,” Thor said. “Go where you like.”

  Sorina followed him to the Blackhawk, where he retrieved the bundle behind the pilot’s seat, then headed back to the veranda. He caught her watching with interest as he sat the package on the table, and opened it to reveal two dozen broad-headed steel bolts and a plastic bag full of sabots.

  Thor examined on of the projectiles closely. Iona had done well; these were exactly as he described. The steel shafts would ruin the barrel’s rifling, but he could always buy a new one when this was over.

  Sorina looked perplexed. “You’re a very… unconventional man.”

  “Conventionality is overrated!” Thor said smiling. He pulled a cigar from his jacket, lit it, and picked up the sniper rifle. He fit a sabot over the bolt’s metal shaft, and eased it down the length of the barrel. He checked the magazine to make sure it held blanks; the third time this morning, but the last thing he wanted to do was have the damned thing blow up in his face. It was his best feature, after all.

  Thor fired a round from Alice into the ground, then yelled: “Fire in the hole!” He holstered the pistol, and aimed the rifle at a target painted on a bale of hay two hundred yards away. He held the cigar gently between his teeth, noting the direction the smoke drifted, took two deep breaths, and fired.

  He missed his mark by three and a half inches to the left. The second went high and right three-quarters of an inch. The third: down two and a half inches. At this range, he could have kept the bullets within the four-inch diameter bull’s-eye with little effort, but he would have to live with these results. Iona’s work was flawless, but even the most precise robots have tolerances. Besides, his plan involved being a whole lot closer than two hundred yards

  “May I?” Sorina asked, gesturing to the rifle.

  Thor handed the weapon over, and she peered through the scope at the target.

  “Oh, my God!” she gasped, checking his work. She handed him the rifle. “Very impressive,” she said with a nod. “Why use a bolt?”

  Thor took a deep puff on the cigar. “Because I suck at spear chucking, and I’m not getting close enough to use a sword. I – ”

  “Thor Odinsson!” Bryndis shouted as she stormed toward him. “Who the Hel do you think you are? Did you tell this man to tie me up, and drag me here?”

  Bonchance Chinenye was doing his best not to appear terrified as he herded Bryndis along. Abassi Jomo-Gbomo was carrying a long pole and a length of rope as he strode beside Bonchance; Abassi seemed to get Thor’s sense of humor, he was the only one of the three smiling.

  “Absolutely not!” Thor said. Bonchance looked ready to faint, or run. “I told him to hog-tie you, and carry you to me.”

  Bryndis stopped dead in her tracks, turning multiple shades of red. Abassi cracked her gently on the rump with the end of the pole, and Bryndis yelped. I’m going to give that man a case of Scotch for that!

  Bryndis climbed the stairs two at a time, looking ready to rip his head off as she reached the top. “If you think I’m going to apologize for doing what I swore to do, you’re wrong! I – “

  “Shhh.” He closed the gap between them. He reached out, taking her hand in his, and kissed her gently on the cheek. The shocked look on her face was priceless. “I appreciate everything you do for me,” he said softly, “I really do. Do you remember the vanilla bean plantation I bought on Madagascar?”

  Bryndis gave a puzzled look. “Yes… Why?”

  Thor kissed her other cheek, then backed away. “Because, if you go behind my back like this again, you’re going to wake up there, tied to a tree. Believe it, or not, I really do have this figured out. I don’t need any more surprises to distract me, or to complicate matters.”

  Bryndis shook a finger in Thor’s face. She took a deep breath, and Thor braced himself for the impending verbal onslaught. She dropped her hand from his face. “You’re right,” she said meekly. “You’re a grown man, not the child I swore to protect. It’s difficult for me to remember that sometimes. I will not interfere again, I swear it.” she sighed, lowering her eyes.

  Thor lifted her chin with a cupped hand, staring into deep-blue eyes that appeared ready to break into tears at any second. “Thank you, Bryn.”

  Bryndis nodded. “I better go get Mikki.”

  “Where is she?” Thor asked. “I thought for sure, the two of you would gang-up on me.”

  Bryndis frowned. She glanced sideways at Bonchance and Abassi. “Halfway here, Nwabudike sat her down on a cart, and dared her to move.”

  I would’ve paid good money to have seen that! It took everything he had not to burst out laughing, but a smile must have slipped onto his face.

  “I’ll tell her how concerned you were,” Bryndis said dryly.

  Thor’s smile grew wider. “I didn’t laugh!”

  Bryndis rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Mikki will nominate you for sainthood for that.” She turned, muttering to herself as she stomped away. She glared at Bonchance and Abassi as she passed. The two men had the foresight to avoid eye-contact.

  “I may be betraying womankind by saying this,” Sorina said softly. “You do realize she’s not about to stop interfering with your life?”

  Thor smiled, glancing at Sorina. “I know. But now, she’ll be a little more subtle when she does it.”

  By the end of the day, Thor was exhausted. Every minute detail of his plan was in place, Nwabudike, Doru, and now Jacques could think of nothing that had been missed. The only thing to do now was wait… and pray.

  Waiting was easy; all you really had to do was nothing but stay in one spot until events unfolded. It was the praying that Thor had trouble with; he spent too many years praying to Gods that refused to listen.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, wiggling his toes, and staring at the fire in the fireplace casting shadows on the floor like taunting specters. The crescent moon was hidden behind the clouds, while rain beat a steady rhythm against the windowpanes. Flashes of lightning lit the western sky, the sound of distant thunder rolling over the mountain range like an oncoming freight train. A storm was coming, but Thor knew that already. The storm that made him shake, however, had nothing to do with the weather.

  He toweled his damp hair, then slipped into a pair of silk lounge pants. He removed a tee shirt from the dresser, tossing it onto the chair by the fireplace. If nothing else, it would be warm when he took Mio out in the morning; he did not want to cause any more disturbances with his half-naked vulgarity. He slipped the amulet from around his neck, placing it on the bedside table. If he was lucky, he would not have any dreams tonight; good, bad, or indifferent. All he wanted to do was sleep through the night; he had nearly fallen asleep twice in the bath.

  Mio yawned, his joints cracking as he stretched. How could that dog be so tired, when all it did lately was sleep? When he was not sleeping, he spent most of his day sniffing in the direction of that damned mountain, growling like someone was reaching for his plate of food.

  Thor was ready to join Mio in the bed, despite his having to be used as a snuggle-buddy. This would be the last night’s sleep he would get in weeks. Unless things went wrong; in which case, he would never have
to worry about sleeping again, he will be dead.

  There was a soft knock on the door.

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” Thor said to the mastiff, as Mio barely lifted his head from the pillow. Thor padded across the floor and opened the door.

  Sorina stood in the hall, holding a silver tray. Her hair was hanging in loose waves; the silken mane cascading over her shoulders. She was wearing a different dress than she had on earlier; this one royal-blue, and sleeveless that reminded Thor of one of Jennifer’s, but nowhere near as short. The boots had been replaced with open-toed high heels. Now, that’s a shame! “May I come in?” she asked softly.

  “Of course.” Thor moved to the side, and Sorina glided by. There was the slightest hint of perfume as she passed. Thor caught sight of her well-defined calves, just before she placed the tray onto the dresser. Maybe, losing the boots was not such a bad thing, after all! He wanted to tell her how pretty she looked, but that never goes well, and he did not want any bad feeling this evening.

  “What’s this?” he asked, closing the door.

  Sorina smiled. She had a pretty smile that lit-up the room; she should do it more often. “With all of the extra men to cook for, Luiza didn’t have time to make you café au lait. So I did it.” She handed Thor a steaming cup. Mio came up, and sniffed her hand. “I didn’t forget you,” she said, handing the dog a large bone, and he went to lie down in front of the fire to gnaw it until his jaw grew sore.

  “I’ll get some of my crew to help her out,” Thor said, then took a sip. It was good café, strong with a hint of the same spice they use in their tea. Christelle would call it “interesting” in such a way it was obvious she thought it less than pleasing, but he liked it.

  “Please don’t!” Sorina said with a frown. “Luiza is rushing around, complaining about things taking too long; and never enough time. The noise coming from the kitchen sounds like she’s throwing pots and pans in a rage. She kept telling me I was in the way, while I was preparing the café… I’ve never seen the woman happier!”

  Thor nodded. “Christelle is the same way. She has no problem telling me, I may own the ship, but it’s her kitchen.”

  Sorina laughed softly; it was the most pleasant thing he had heard in a very long time. “It sounds like she and Luiza would be great friends.”

  He took a long sip from the cup. “This café is very delicious, thank you.” He smiled at her.

  She silently stared at him for a time, then sighed heavily.

  Thor’s eyebrows shot up. “Did I say something wrong?!”

  Sorina’s mouth dropped open. She shook her head, obviously disgusted. “How could someone be so intelligent, and so stupid at the same time?”

  What did I do now?!

  Sorina took the cup from his hand, placed it on the tray, and stared into his eyes

  Oh!!!

  In an instant, Thor’s arms were around her waist, pulling her close, and he kissed her. Her arms flew around his neck, and she pressed her lips harder against his.

  A blinding flash of lightning split the air outside the window, a deafening crack of thunder shook the ancient fortress before the lightning faded a shade; the roar nearly startling both of them out of their skins. Thor glanced around the room, half expecting to see broken windowpanes on the floor.

  Sorina pushed him away with both hands. Too fast! I was moving too fast, Thor thought. Idiot!

  Sorina stared at him, breathless and wide-eyed, as she smiled. “I think that counts as the heavens shaking, wouldn’t you?” Thor nodded. Sorina took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Slowly, her dress fell to the floor; she stepped from the crumpled pile of royal-blue, then from her shoes. When those eyes opened again, they locked into his, burning with desire.

  “I was completely wrong,” Thor said, breathlessly.

  Sorina cocked an eyebrow. “About what?”

  “I thought there was nothing that could make me want you more than seeing you in that dress.”

  There was something in those dark eyes, and the way only one corner of her mouth curled as she smiled again, Thor found exhilarating … and a bit frightening!

  He rushed toward her, scooped her up in his arms, moving to the bed.

  Outside, the storm raged. The wind blew the rain in nearly horizontal sheets, lightning flashed so often, it was more like noon than the middle of the night, and the thunder roared like a continuous barrage of artillery. All of it went unnoticed in a room in the east tower.

  The morning sun was pouring in though the open curtains as Thor pried his eyes open from the most restful sleep he had had in weeks. To his relief, Sorina’s head was resting on his shoulder, and her arm was draped across his chest. Good! From the way things were going lately, he was sure it had been another vivid dream. He kissed her gently on the forehead, and she moaned softly in her sleep.

  As much as Thor wished to stay in bed, breathing in Sorina’s sweet scent, he had to take care of Mio. Actually, Thor was surprised the drooling beast was not at the side of the bed, whining, already.

  Thor stirred, and Sorina’s grip tightened around him. He kissed her again.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Sorina said sternly.

  “I have to let Mio out.”

  Sorina stroked his chest with her fingertips. “I asked Ylena to take him out an hour ago.”

  An hour ago! What the Hel was in that café? “So, we’re all alone?” He brushed her hair from her face, noticing a palm-sized tattoo of a winged, multi-colored dragon on the back of her right shoulder. He admired the quality of the workmanship; the artist was a true master.

  “That is a beautiful tattoo,” he whispered in her ear, just before he kissed it. Ordinarily, he would have wondered how he missed something like that, but his mind was on… other things, last night.

  “I got it in Hong Kong; a souvenir from my rebellious days.”

  Thor kissed her cheek. “You’re not rebellious anymore?”

  Sorina kissed him. “Not the way I used to be.”

  “Too bad, you should never stop being rebellious!”

  Sorina rolled herself on top of him, staring into his eyes. All Thor could think was how beautiful she was.

  “You’re a bad influence, Thor Odinsson,” she said, then laughed softly.

  Thor shrugged, then nodded. “I really am,” he admitted.

  “I do feel rebellious around you,” Sorina said, then kissed him hard on the lips.

  Thor’s hands ran down her spine, giving her ass a gentle squeeze. “Is that all you feel?”

  “No,” she moaned, positioning herself over him. “I feel a lot more than that!” Those beautiful coffee-colored eyes popped wide open. She shuddered, tossing her head back, as she eased herself down the full length of his throbbing cock. “Oh, my God!” she gasped, as Thor thrust his hips upward. Her nails dug into his upper arms, as every muscle of Sorina’s body tried desperately to ball her hands into fists.

  Thor stared at Sorina’s ecstasy-filled face; made more beautiful by the glow of the morning sun. Sweat beaded, accentuating every detail of her face and body as it glistened. A few times, Sorina gasped for air, as if forgetting how to breathe as she pumped her hips. Small rivulets of blood trickled from a couple nail-marks, where Sorina continued to dig into his arms. Thor was oblivious to the pain. He watched Sorina’s face, admired her perfect body, not wanting to miss a thing.

  Chapter 24

  Who Dropped the Ball?

  Special Agent Martin LeMay sat at the kitchen table of his small Boston apartment; half-way through the second cup of Stumptown he’d brought back from Portland. He looked down at the half-eaten maple-glazed doughnut with distain. He had placed a couple of freshly- fried bacon strips on top, making it considerably better than the bakery’s piss-pore attempt at his Portland favorite, but it was sorely lacking.

  Outside, the sun was rising and the streets were buzzing with the sounds of people rushing to work. He would be leaving soon himself, but not before finishing the remaining cup
of coffee in the pot, he’d be damned if he’s let a drop of that liquid gold go to waste.

  He was dreading going to work this morning; if today was anything like the past couple of weeks, he would be doing something worthless. He couldn’t shake the feeling we was being given shit-detail for not catching the white whale- Thor Odinsson, yet again. Fuck! He didn’t want to have anything to do with the man again, anyway. So, why was he being punished?

  He sighed, going over every minute detail of his life, wondering what he had done to piss off God.

  His thoughts drifted to joining a private security firm; somewhere with high-end clients. Maybe he’d end-up at a multi-billion dollar firm, taking down ciber-hackers and corporate spies. More likely, he’d be in a shitty office, doing the same shit-detail, and make less money and shit benefits for his effort.

  He could try the C.I.A.; several of his Army buddies are company men, now. Given his past reputation, however, he had a sneaking suspicion he’d never even get an interview, much less a job. It’s amazing how many bridges you’ve burned without realizing it, until you try to cross one, later.

  LeMay’s hand hovered over the trash can. He had thoughts of tossing the rest of the God forsaken doughnut to the pigeons; why should he be the only one to suffer through digesting the fucking thing? He dropped it in the trash when his phone rang; if, for no other reason, to keep his neighbors from pointing and calling him a pigeon killer behind his back.

  He glanced at the overseas number on the screen, wondering who the hell he knew overseas.

  “Hello,” he said as pleasantly as he could muster, which was a major chore this morning.

  “Agent LeMay,” the sweet sounding woman’s voice said, and LeMay’s heart dropped into a deep, dark depression. “This is Tilde Heitman.”

  “What can I do for you, Agent Heitman?” LeMay asked, praying to every named and un-named god in the universe, it was something ignorant, like: I dropped my favorite pen in Portland, have you seen it?