“Peaceful men take up arms all the time, to defend what they have,” Terry offered.
“A peaceful man will defend his peace before all other things,” Zenmaster replied. “A man willing to take up arms was never a peaceful man. The battle within his soul for might over principle is waged more harshly than any soldier who fights an enemy in combat. Some men have to fight both battles. My grandfather had always been a warrior, but it took a war to let the real person into the daylight, a place that my grandfather’s masters couldn’t stand.”
Zenmaster waited. Terry tensed. A warrior who served Forsaken.
“My grandfather rose to become a great general. Once the dark ones handed him command of the army, he led it across a broken China, uniting the land under one rule, his rule. Do you know what happened?” Zenmaster asked.
Terry looked away.
“The army met someone who was stronger. One fateful day, as they traveled a road from one pillaged village to the next, the other soldiers appeared, ambushing the army, killing the general and most of his people. A thousand men entered the field of battle that day, but only a hundred left it. The violent consolidation of the peaceful villages had come to an end. The peaceful men were not given the opportunity to choose between their principle and their willingness to fight.”
Zenmaster studied Terry Henry’s features, carefully, casually. It was some time before he spoke again.
“Peace and strength can never be separated. They are always there, keeping each other company, until something upsets the balance. Could a person ever respect himself if he wouldn’t fight for what he believed in? How could he look at himself if he let another come to harm when he could have prevented it?”
Terry waited. He had kitchen duty, too, but that seemed unimportant at present.
“It is best that we maintain our convictions, know that we must balance our love with our rage, bring them out when the situation dictates, put them away when it doesn’t. And when we aren’t challenged, enjoy the moment. I hold no animosity toward the soldiers who fought my grandfather on that fateful day long ago. When one’s balance is off, someone else will surely force it back into place. My grandfather lost his way. I am here because my father refused to fight. My mother is gone, because my father refused to fight for her. My father is gone because he couldn’t live with that decision.”
“Warriors, Zenmaster,” Terry said. “Those were warriors who destroyed your grandfather’s army, not soldiers.”
Terry bowed his head, excused himself, and retreated toward the kitchen. General Tsao had been a bully who reveled in the power. Terry had set up an ambush, using the firepower he’d pulled from Cheyenne Mountain to lay waste to a conquering army, ending the swath of destruction it was leaving across the land.
The same General Tsao who refused to meet with Terry after Akio and the pack had killed the Forsaken and Weretigers deep within the darkened mine.
General Tsao who filled the vacuum with his own brand of violence. Terry crushed the man’s army and one of Terry’s snipers had ended the general’s life. Terry had looked at the bullet hole in the general’s head without remorse, without care.
Zenmaster had forgiven Terry. The old man had forgiven his grandfather, too, for losing his balance. He ran the monastery for the sole reason of helping people maintain their balance, not embracing one at the expense of the other.
Man cannot deny his true nature; he can only balance the two sides, peace and war, without letting either consume him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
WWDE + 140
Cleveland
“They said they’ve been here for more than a decade,” Kimber stated. “Weren’t my parents here less than ten years ago?”
“They said they stayed on the north side of the seaway after they ditched the boat,” Auburn replied.
“That’s right,” she agreed. “Wherever we go, there we are, with plenty of Were for company.”
“No shit,” Nick replied. He’d followed Kim and Auburn throughout the Midwest. They were working their way east, through the fertile lands, searching. With the Weretigers still in China, they’d rearranged the tac teams.
The group climbed back aboard their pod and flew the short distance back to Chicago.
The Werewolves Shonna, Merrit, Sue, and Timmons had joined them, along with Cory, Ramses, Sarah, Kaeden, and Marcie.
When all was said and done, it came back to the family, to the original pack and their newest and most stalwart warriors, Edwin, Nick, Tyson, and Samantha.
Three years after Terry and Char left, Gene had taken his family back to the Crimea.
Aaron and Yanmei had returned to San Francisco on a few occasions, but only briefly as they negotiated production rights for the gravitic engines. Their mine produced the rare minerals needed for the engines. Walton Industries set up shop in Shanghai and dirigibles plied the skies of Asia with greater and greater frequency. Ted rarely left the factory, so they built a home for him and Felicity that was attached.
She didn’t much like the noise, but surrendered to it to be able to sleep with her husband each night.
Sylvia was spending more time with Kailin in the factory, learning the ropes of running a major business.
And the NAPC powered on under the leadership of the oldster Gerry, but he was running out of steam. He’d had to hire younger Weres to be the muscle, to intimidate some of the sub-packs to comply.
He was afraid the council was fracturing. The harder he pressed, the more Weres squeezed out of his grip.
A whirlwind tour by the real alpha would bring everyone back in line in short order. He was sure of it. But he hadn’t talked with her in two years. He knew she was alive because her children passed through Chicago on occasion.
She wasn’t returning his calls. The other members of her inner circle weren’t helpful. They didn’t have the power that Char did.
The tac team was occupied looking for Joseph. They kept finding Werewolves, newer generations, some born well after the fall of mankind.
Char’s pack and the NAPC let the youngsters know that there were rules to be followed. It required more and more effort. The humans running the blood trade were becoming increasingly bold.
“I need help,” the alpha said boldly to the group. Marcie put a calming hand on the old man’s shoulder.
“It’s okay. We’ve given it seven years. Joseph is gone. If we see him again, it will be because he wants us to. What do you need from us?”
A young woman stood nearby. Gerry looked at her before looking back to the group. “My daughter, Jacqueline,” he said offhandedly by way of introduction. He remained distracted and humble, looking unlike any alpha they’d ever seen.
“The blood trade is keeping the packs in line, but it’s creating a rift. We cannot have a war between the Unknown World and the humans. That would destroy everything that we’ve been raised to believe.” The old man faltered.
“Where do you need us?”
“New York and Chicago, mainly. The city-states in Europe have issues, too, as they grow and expand,” the old man explained.
“There are less than twenty of us engaged in this fight. Europe is on its own. I’m sorry. But Chicago and New York? We can do something about those places.”
“Give us a little bit to talk it over,” Marcie told him. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
They returned to the pod. There wasn’t anything to talk about. The inside circle knew what they were going to do. Marcie looked from face to face. Each nodded when she made eye contact with them.
Marcie accessed the pod’s comm system. “Well, hello!” Terry announced happily.
“When are you lazy bastards coming back? We’re knee-deep in shit and can’t be everywhere we need to be. Human scum are kidnapping Were to steal their blood. The Unknown World isn’t our enemy, only those who know about it,” Marcie declared, turning to Kaeden. He nodded to her, not expecting the approach to work with his father, but appreciating her candor.
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“Just a minute, please,” Terry said cordially. They waited one minute, which stretched to five minutes. The tac team sat and lounged as they waited.
Ten minutes later, Terry’s voice projected through the speakers. “Whoever is trying to rain on our parade, well, they called down the thunder. We’re on our way to meet you in Chicago.”
Haidong, China
Terry made two calls. The first was to Akio asking him to send a pod, and the second was to Aaron and Yanmei to inform them that they were heading home.
Akio was happy to hear from Terry and Char, having information he wanted to share, but needed to do it in person.
“We will stop on our way, Akio-sama.” Terry wasn’t sure what that was about, but didn’t bother speculating. They would find out soon enough.
Aaron and Yanmei were pleased, having stopped searching for the Qin Clan two years prior after circumnavigating the country. They joined their cubs in building a raw materials and manufacturing empire. Having an exclusive contract for production of the gravitic drives ensured their place in history.
Aaron apologized profusely, but couldn’t return to the pack for the foreseeable future. Char took the device from Terry.
“We have been blessed with your company for a long time, my friend. Do what is best for you and your family. If you are ever able to rejoin us, you will be welcome. We’ll sit on the beach and drink mai tais, tell lies, and laugh a lot,” Char said, smiling.
“You are too kind, as always, Charumati. Until then. Do you need us to send a ship?”
Terry and Char appreciated the fact that Aaron and Yanmei had a dirigible at their disposal. Terry had worked for rich people, but he’d never been one. His wealth was manifest in the quality of his friends and family.
He didn’t mind at all that those people were rich.
Japan
“Ten years, Terry-san,” Akio stated. “Bethany Anne will return to Earth in ten years.”
Terry stepped back as if ice water had been thrown in his face. “She’s coming home?” He didn’t bother to ask how Akio knew. The Vampire would not have said anything if he hadn’t been certain.
“How can we best serve her in the remaining time?” Terry wondered.
“I don’t know the answer to that, Terry-san. I know how much we’ve done to help get the world back on track. I don’t know how much is left to do.”
“Akio-sama. Keeping the Unknown World anonymous is important to keep the Were or the Forsaken from turning the humans into slaves or self-propelled meals. The blood trade must be crushed and that is why we’re returning. We will join our family and closest pack in shining the light on the evil, exposing it, and destroying it,” Terry declared.
“With that, I expect the empress will be satisfied.”
“Empress?”
“The Queen Bitch is Empress of the Etheric Empire,” Akio replied.
Chicago
The pod appeared in the northwestern sky and approached quickly, slowed during the descent, and settled next to the second pod, having recently returned from San Francisco with Annika and Meta. Marcie and the others had hatched a plan to draw the kidnappers out.
They only needed bait.
The pod landed and the ramp lowered. Terry and Char walked off, hand in hand, standing tall and looking confident.
“Thank God!” their children said as they headed in to meet them. Hugs all around, but no small talk. That had never been Terry’s thing.
“What’s the plan?” Terry asked.
Marcie delivered it succinctly using the five-paragraph order. She told him the situation, the mission, the execution, the admin and logistics, and the command and signal.
Terry counted the heads. “Butch and Skippy back in New York?” he asked.
“Of course,” Sue answered with a smirk.
“Then they will fill the role of bait there. We’ll split into two teams. Marcie, take half and we’ll take the rest. We’ll set up where Gerry thinks the most activity is here. Same in New York City. Then we’ll roll our bait out and wait. Capture the kidnappers. We want information, not them. They’re lackeys. We want to find who’s running the operation. It is their heads we will take and put on platters to send a message to the others.”
Marcie pointed out Kaeden, Cory, Ramses, Shonna, Merrit, Tyson, and Edwin, waving them toward the second pod. Cory waved good-bye to her daughter.
Sarah was under Terry’s protection and she couldn’t have been safer.
Char signaled for Sue, Timmons, Auburn, Kimber, Nick, and Samantha to join her and Sarah as they returned to the pod to refine their plan, ensure everyone knew their roles, and finalize the map details. She almost forgot the two blond-haired, yellow-eyed Were bitches.
Char leaned out of the pod and signaled for them to come aboard. They had a key role in the plan.
Gerry joined Terry and Char first. They greeted briefly, Char thanking him for his work over the past four years, before they turned back to the matter at hand.
The alpha of the NAPC pointed to the new seedy side of town, where they’d lost a couple Weres. They hadn’t seen activity lately because the Were folk were avoiding the area.
“That will change soon,” Terry said. “When the Forsaken tried to take over, we fought them. When the Were thought they could take over, we showed them the door. When the humans thought they could be players in the Unknown World? They are in for a big surprise. It would be nice if Joseph could help us, but he’s not here. This is our team, and we’re the ones who will get it done.”
Terry put his hand into the center of the group. Some knew what it was about, others didn’t. All followed suit.
“Fuck those jack-holes, on three. One. Two. Three!”
Terry winced at the half-assed response. “Once more, with feeling,” he told them, disappointed that not even Char caught the Buffy reference, before he counted down afresh.
New York City
Butch and Skippy were waiting on the outskirts of the remains of Central Park. Marcie led her team unerringly to them.
She didn’t bother with niceties. “Here’s what we need you to do…” She explained the plan, their role, and what the others would be doing.
They headed toward the most active area. Marcie sensed many Werewolves scattered along their line of travel.
“How many Were are here?”
Butch shrugged. “A hundred? Maybe more?” she replied.
“Weren’t there a couple hundred a few years back?”
“They’ve moved on, I suspect. They’re not here, but this is the place to be. The lead in the new production of King Lear is Were. He is magnificent. If you have time, I recommend you see the play.”
“No,” Marcie said definitively before clarifying. “No distractions.”
They didn’t delay as they moved into position, securing rooms in two buildings overlooking a street where Butch and Skippy stood outside by themselves, looking uncomfortable.
Marcie watched carefully, reaching into the etheric dimension occasionally to see if Weres were nearby. She expected that a Were was involved, telling the humans who to target.
And they waited.
Chicago
Annika and Meta stood on the street, looking like prostitutes of old as they waved and smiled at any passersby.
“I don’t have the words,” Terry told Char. She chuckled and shook her head.
Nick was close by, looking uncomfortable. Terry had to ask. “What’s up, Nick?”
“The women. I used to have a thing with Annika, but after two near-death experiences, I had to break it off. Those two have a thing for a man in uniform and are working their way through the barracks, leaving a wake of the broken and dying,” he said in a low voice, sounding guilty.
“The people in the barracks are adults, right?” Terry asked the leading question.
“Of course, sir.”
“I don’t see any problem, except for the dead and dying part. We’ll ask them to take it easy on the lesser souls,�
� Terry replied.
“Don’t do that!” Nick blurted. “They’ll kill me if they found out that I ratted them out.”
“Ratted who out?” Terry asked before Char shushed them.
A group of four men were approaching the women. “Time to party. Come with me, Nick,” Terry ordered as he left the second-floor window.
If there was a Were guiding the kidnappers, they might not notice Terry or the few nanocytes coursing through Nick’s blood, leftover from his time in the pod doc years earlier.
Terry turned back to Char before leaving the room. “I love you,” he told her before adding. “Aim true.”
“Always,” she replied.
Terry led the way down the stairs, hurrying as much as he could without making noise. Nick followed, stepping where Terry stepped so the stairs wouldn’t creak.
They hesitated at the door to see how the tactical situation had changed. Terry was surprised to see that there were six men surrounding the two Werewolves. The beautiful blondes had lost their winning smiles and were standing back to back.
Short clubs appeared in the men’s hands. Terry bolted through the door and accelerated toward the men. Besides the clubs, they carried short knives that glistened with a silver coating.
“Boys!” Terry yelled as he approached. “There’s no need for that. Who’s in charge of this mob?”
Annika and Meta both turned to face Terry. One of the men cracked Meta hard across the head. The sickening sound of a splattered melon preceded her falling. Blood ran freely from the wound, but she wasn’t dead.
Terry pulled his Mameluke into his right hand while his trusty whip found its way into his left.
Nick swung wide, looking at them through the sights of his carbine. “We only need one, Nick.”
The warrior fired, killing the one who had hit the Werewolf. The other five charged. Nick was only able to get off one more shot, before he turned his rifle into a club.
Nomad's Galaxy: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 10) Page 20
