Heaven's Prisoners

by Matthew Angelo

  Gregory turned back to his computer and typed away. After a few minutes, he squealed with glee, then cursed. I walked over and stared at his screen. It’s all Greek to me, kids. Between the binary and command prompts, I had no idea what Gregory was doing.

  Axle pulled me back, and I look at him curiously. “We’re gonna have to wait, Rian.”

  “Do you think he can do it?” I whispered.

  “He’s the only one qualified. He quit MIT to stay in Colorado. His professor says his skills are quite spectacular. It also turns out this is part of his community service for hacking a bank’s records erasing his student debt.”

  “Really?” I glanced over and watched as Gregory’s hands flew over the keyboard. “I like this guy already.”

  “You would, Rian.”

  “I’m close!” Gregory spun in his chair in excitement.

  I rushed over and leaned down watching as the computer traced a signal around town. “What’s it doing exactly?”

  He pointed at the screen. “Well, first off, whoever did this used a VPN or virtual private network to hide his IP address. Once I got through that, following the trace was easy. Now it's traveling through the network, looking for the source.”

  I used a couple of fingers to draw his attention toward me. “Source as in the location of the camera feed?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good. How long?”

  “A couple more minutes. If I guess correctly, the source is a few miles southeast from here. The trace is slowing down which means it almost found the source.”

  I turned toward Axle. “Start the car.”

  He already had his keys out and turned to run upstairs. “On it, Rian.”

  The screen flashed, and a loud beep went off. Gregory squealed in glee. “Here’s the address!”

  I called Axle as I ran upstairs. “I got the address!”

  Axle sat in the car waiting for me. I jumped in, and he drove off. “Go southeast, Timberline then south on Tocedo Drive.”

  Axle hit the sirens and lights on his car. I had barely enough time to buckle my seatbelt. Safety first, right? It wouldn’t be good for the hero to die before saving everyone. I’d be the worst Angel ever... Well, Satan had that title, to be honest.

  With only a few miles to drive, we came across the abandoned farmhouse within fifteen minutes. We could’ve been there sooner, but not everyone realizes you have to move out of the way of service vehicles. Can’t fix stupid in these cases.

  I leaped out of the car before it fully stopped. Drawing my gun, I hit the porch placing my back against the wall next to the door. Axle caught up cussing, probably at me, for breaking protocol and all police training in a situation like this. I didn’t care; I wasn’t a cop.

  He stood with his back against the wall on the other side of the door. “You first, I’ll cover you.”

  I nodded and gripped the handle to the weather-beaten door. It fell off the hinges and made a loud crash on the porch. I cringed at the noise and dust. “I guess knocking won’t work.”

  I ran inside the house, and the smell of rotten and charred wood hit my nose. Scanning the room, graffiti decorated the walls and recently burned wood littered the fireplace. A loud creak rang in my ears as I walked across the floor.

  Axle walked in behind me. “Anything?”

  I glanced back. “Nothing. Let’s check each room.”

  “By the book, Rian, I can’t afford to lose you or Jacob.”

  “Fine. Let’s get to it then.”

  Striding forward, I entered the next room taking it all in — the same shape as the room before except for an old dilapidated television. I heard Axle behind me, his breathing as fast as mine. I paced over to the next room and found what used to be the kitchen. Half the wall had fallen in exposing it to the outdoors and a bedroom adjacent to it.

  To my right, a small set of stairs led up. I turned to Axle who motioned for me to go. I trusted a few people in my life, but with Axle, I’d trust him with my life. The cases I got myself into brought us closer. We were more friends than just professionals working together.

  The stairs opened into a room. A broken bed sat in the corner. A few stains I hoped weren’t blood covered the mattress and a handful of broken and used needles littered the floor. As I turned around, the site of a camera caught my eye.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Axle turned toward me. “What?”

  I pointed at the camera. “We’re being watched.”

  Axle walked over to it without lowering his gun. He would always be ready for anything. “I’m not surprised. There’s a cord hanging from it that leads downstairs; I noticed it as we came upstairs.”

  I followed the cord and saw Axle was right. “Hopefully it leads us to Jacob. There are no more rooms to search.”

  I ran down the rickety stairs and followed the cord back to the room with the old television. A spark shot from the back of it, and it turned on. You’ve got to be kidding me? I crouched to get a better view of the image that formed on the screen.

  The picture went scrambled a few times, but I didn’t mistake the image for what it was. Jacob still in the grave that the contractor put him in. Static rang from the speaker and a familiar voice echoed out into the room.

  “You didn’t expect it to be that easy, did you, Mr. MacCaren?”

  The contractor’s voice grated on my nerves, and his lack of use of my first name was killing me. Static resonated again, and the screen scrambled at the same time. If I had a chance to shoot this guy, I’d take it. Fuck the law.

  “It turns out; I’m not as merciful as you thought I was. One hour, Mr. MacCaren. Credit to the person who got you here so quick. I didn’t expect you or Detective Erickson to have the skills to get this far. One hour.”

  The television sparked and died. Pray, I find Jacob before you, bastard.

  Chapter Eleven

  Axle’s phone rang. He turned away and answered it. “Wait. What? Hold on; I’m putting Rian on. Switching to the speaker.” He tapped his phone screen. “Okay, Gregory, tell Rian what you were trying to tell me.”

  Gregory’s voice boomed from the speaker in nervous energy. “This guy is craftier than I thought. He had more than one IP address along with a virtual drive. Another VPN operated on that and covered the actual feed.”

  “I don’t speak geek, Gregory.”

  “Whoever set this up hid the feed in a virtual drive and covered it with another to purposely lead us to the wrong spot. I’m sorry.”

  I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “It’s not your fault. Can you trace this feed?”

  “Yes, I’m doing so now, but he has this one jumping from so many hubs, I have a hard time keeping up. Whoever set this up, isn’t your average user or IT tech. These are some hardcore computer skills.”

  “How soon? The person who did this shortened our time.”

  “I’m hoping a few more minutes. Whoever did this left a blog. It’s some scary stuff, sir.”

  Did he call me sir? Have I become that old already? I’m only in my thirties, for Christ’s sake! Axle’s gaze bored into me. I glanced up and saw a huge smile on his face, and he mouthed the word ‘sir.’ At least someone found humor in the situation.

  “Call me Rian, Gregory.”

  “Sorry, sir, I mean, Rian. My parents raised me this way.”

  I heard a loud beep from the speaker. “What was that?”

  “My computer found the location. I’m double checking it with the GPS. If this is right, then the place you’re looking for is near one of the breweries.”

  I glanced at Axle and frowned. Fort Collins had hundreds of them. “Which one?”

  “I’m bringing up the map now for the right one. Here it is, a few blocks south of Red Rocks Brewery. The address is 778 Castenada Avenue.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What should I do now?”

  I shouted as Axle, and I ran toward the car. “Recheck the trace to be sure. We don’t have time to mess this up.”


  Axle hung up and dialed out. I got in the car and heard Axle calling back up as he started his Comet. The vehicle he used as a personal patrol car roared to life. I watch dust fill the side mirror as Axle steered the car off the dirt road onto the pavement.

  The siren blared, and lights flashed, but still, it proved painful waiting for people to move away. Axle hit the exit to the highway north hard, and I held on to the dash in fear of getting thrown out the car. While taking the highway to the north end of town was a longer route, it turned out to be the shortest route in time. In town, traffic was a bitch, and I didn’t have time to fight it.

  My phone rang. Lana’s number flashed on the caller ID. “Yeah, Lana.”

  Her pleasant voice echoed through the line. “Rian, a man came by to drop off a package. More of a large envelope.”

  I tilted my head in curiosity. She never called me over a package before. “Okay, why are you calling over this?”

  “Well, the man who delivered it wasn’t from any of the delivery places or the Post Office. He gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “Um... so. Most of my cases give us those vibes.”

  “I know, but this man was different. He spoke well and was soft-spoken and look like... well, it’s hard to say.”

  “I’ll need more than that, Lana.”

  “He looked a lot like you, but older. Like he could’ve been your father.”

  I dropped my phone in my lap and frantically reached for it. “I’ve never met my father, Lana. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

  That was a lie, but I couldn’t put Lana’s life in danger in case daddy was a bad man or angel for that matter.

  “I know, but he did resemble you a lot. More put together though. He also gave me a message.”

  “What did he say, Lana?”

  “He said you’re overdue for a visit with your mother and send her his love.”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  “Do you know who it was, Rian?”

  “Yeah, but can’t prove it. I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of it when I get to the office. Put the package on my desk, please.”

  “I will, Rian. Please be careful. I got a call from the PMS, and an officer said you and Axle were following a lead.”

  “They called?”

  “Yes. I found it odd since they've never called before except to argue over-billing. They told me you had them contact me with an update since the case was getting heavy. Are they wrong?”

  I covered the mic on the phone and swore. “No. Keep sending those bills and lock up when you’re done. No need to stay later.”

  “Okay. I’ll have my phone if needed, Rian.”

  “Sounds good. Bye.”

  I ended the call and stared at Axle who pulled off the highway at the exit. “Someone impersonating an officer called my assistant and gave her some information on my progress in this case.”

  He hit the turn signal and turned, running the red light. “We never make those calls.”

  “Yeah, I think your department may have a problem.”

  “Possibly or someone not following protocol. The contractor could’ve done it.”

  A stab of fear penetrated my heart. I didn’t even think about that as a possibility. Rian, you need to get your shit together. Hopefully, Lana still concealed carried. She had a black belt in Krav Maga and a .45 Glock in her purse. I knew Lana could take care of herself; I’m still worried. Between the soft-spoken stranger who could be my father and the mysterious call, I hoped Lana would shoot first and ask questions later if needed.

  Within a few minutes, we located the address. A few patrol cars blocked off the area. I jumped out of the car and shielded my eyes from the setting sun. It’s getting late. Did I really lose so much time? The contractor did say time flies, but not this fast. Maybe I’m wrong. Fuck, I hope not.

  The neighborhood was nice, with half her inhabitants standing outside gawking at all the patrol cars. If I had to guess, not much happened here with all those who lived here, living quiet, uneventful lives. I scanned the crowd in hopes one person stood out, but nothing.

  Officers taped up the area, and Axle tapped my shoulder. “What’s wrong, Rian?”

  I turned toward him. “Nothing. I hoped I’d see him out there.”

  “You don’t know what he looks like.”

  “I’d know if he was close. Let’s get moving.”

  “I’m gonna patrol the outside first. I don’t wanna chance either one of us walking into a trap.”

  I nodded and strode up to the walkway leading to the front porch. It’d be a trap, but for me, not Axle. The contractor made it clear that I’d be next so it would only be a matter of time. My chest hurt. I didn’t think it was a heart attack, but anxiety can fuck you up as easily. Was it anxiety or fear? One can cause the other, so both.

  I had to conquer it all if I’d be of any use to Jacob. Taking a step onto the porch, I glanced around and saw cameras. One hung above the front door the others in the corners. All pointed in my direction. The contractor was watching.

  “Let him watch.”

  I stood in front of the door and silently prayed. Not sure how much good it did, but when you’re half-angel, that comes with at least a bit of faith. Not a whole lot, but it beats none. At least for me. I never prayed as much as I should and don’t get me started on confession. While I believed in God, my faith was weak at best, and I constantly struggled with whether or not it was pointless. Did I have a soul like others or did my angelic blood cancel that out?

  No one could answer me. The priest here at St. Mary’s said I did and knew I was Nephilim. He accepted me for the lost soul I was. The Catholic Church had a different idea and tried killing me with assassins earlier this year. I don’t know why I’m a fucking awesome guy with a heart of fucking gold.

  Now or never, Rian. Jacob can’t afford to wait. My inner voice always spoke the truth even if the rest of me denied its existence or didn’t want to hear it. More so the latter than former. I gripped the doorknob and turned. The door swung open. Didn’t think anyone would lock it. He already set the trap.

  The air conditioning was on, and the frigid air hit me hard. A chill ran down my spine and whether it was fear or the temperature was hard to tell. Both maybe? Didn’t matter, any more time here and I could cut glass with my nipples. Even facing a trap and possible death, I’m still snarky as fuck. Me snarky... never!

  Lights came on automatically and lit up the room. The furniture was a nice leather set, and the carpet was plush with a neutral tan color. The white walls of the living room stood out in contrast to the red accent wall to the north facing the street behind me.

  Each corner of the room had a camera. One pointed to the center of the room while the others in different directions. Apparently, the contractor wanted a good view of what I did here — either that or his voyeuristic tendencies bordered on manic and pathological. Either way, it creeped me out. We all like to watch on some level, but this was too much.

  I sniffed the air. Someone cleaned recently. A slight hint of ammonia and bleach tickled my nose. It could’ve been this morning or yesterday, I couldn’t tell. An open doorway led to another room and footsteps behind me froze me in place.

  “It’s me, Rian.”

  I relaxed a little. “Axle, warn me next time.”

  “You can’t do this alone. I’m the best backup you’ll ever get.”

  Axle was right. I pointed at the cameras and heard him exhale sharply. “Keep the others out of here. I’ll wait.”

  He shot me a look. The kind that says I lied about waiting and I wouldn’t argue with that logic. I did lie. He may be my best friend and backup; I also won’t place him in any more danger than I have to. I know he’s a cop, and it’s his job, but the supernatural is mine. He’s human, and I’m not. At least not fully.

  If he gets hurt, it’s a long time for recovery. For me, it's shorter because I heal faster and can take more damage. I’m nowhere near invin
cible, but I’d risk my life over his. Protecting the ones I care about will kill me in the end, but as long as the bad guys don’t figure it out, I’m good.

  It’s another reason I don’t get too close to anyone. People get hurt all the time, and I understand that, but I don’t want it to be because of me. My conscience couldn’t live with that.

  I turned back and closed the door locking it. Moving over to the couch, I pushed it in front of the door. “Sorry, Axle, but I can’t let you get hurt. Not on my watch. I thought I could do what I want; now I have to pay for my pride by thinking I could do what I want. Forgive me.”

  I turned toward the open doorway and walked through.

  Chapter Twelve

  I entered the dining area. A beautiful oak table stood in the center of the room surrounded by elegant chairs, all stained a mahogany brown with fresh roses as the centerpiece. Against the wall stood the china cabinet with the same finish and housing gold-trimmed porcelain plates. Cameras hung from every corner, and an uneasiness crept over my body.

  Someone watched me...

  Was it the contractor or someone more insidious? Did it even matter? No, not anymore. It seems my nihilism has reached a new level. Two entryways exited the dining room. A glance to the right opened to the kitchen and the patio. I peeked in and saw no other ways into or out of the room.

  The other opening led to a small hallway. Step by step I checked each door: one a bathroom, the next a bedroom. The crunching sound of something hitting the front door reached my ears. Axle spared nothing in trying to get in. Coming in here alone was dumb, but the contractor wanted only me, and I couldn’t place anyone else in danger.

  Axle would get over the disappointment in me as long as he lived. The last room was the master bedroom, nothing but an overpriced bed and dresser and closet. A camera stood on the dresser overseeing the bed. Kinky. I slid open the mirrored closet door and saw clothes and another camera facing the room.

  Damn this man’s a voyeur. I missed something. Somewhere in this house, I’d find Jacob. Every house like this has a basement. The contractor’s house had one under the kitchen. I moved fast, not wasting any more time. Another boom hit the door and splinters flew out. Axle would come charging in soon. Probably with a sore shoulder.