Galactic Satori Chronicles: Book 1 - Earth

by Nick Braker

  “Qu’est-il arrivé?”

  The man was unresponsive, looking wildly around him, pointing at unseen enemies.

  “Ils église. Ils église. Ils ont essayé de me tuer!”

  “He keeps talking about the church.” Grep said.

  “Qu’en est-il qu’ils l’église?” Grep asked.

  The man gasped a lung full of air, his eyes growing wider. He looked into Warren’s eyes, grabbing the back of his head, pulling him close. Warren could barely make out his last words.

  “L’église de la mort,” he said.

  He looked up at Grep repeating what the man had said.

  “He said Lay gleez della mort’” Warren told him.

  “The church of death,” Grep replied.

  The man died in Warren’s arms.

  Not only did they lose the people they saw in the bushes but they spent the next thirty minutes with the Parisian authorities explaining the situation. The group had shown them their IDs but they had detained them anyway and their WSO response teams couldn’t reach them for another thirty minutes. Magnus lost his patience.

  Screw diplomacy.

  Magnus contacted Alexandria using the new implant and ten minutes later the authorities released them.

  “That’s right you little grunts,” Brock said, flipping them off. “We’re leaving now.”

  Magnus pulled Brock’s hand down.

  “Brock, they are not the enemy,” Magnus said.

  “They kept us detained even after we showed them who we were. We need to get to this church, wherever that is, and we needed to get there forty minutes ago,” Brock argued.

  “Yep, I know but we’re on our way now. So let’s focus on that. Grep, anything nearby?”

  Grep took Warren’s seat up front and pointed to the GPS display.

  “There is a church on the opposite side of that park back toward where that man was running. It is isolated somewhat. Seems like the first place we should look,” he said.

  “Brock,” Magnus said. “Head that way. Is there any way to approach undetected?”

  Grep shook his head as Brock started up the vehicle toward the location on the map. A few minutes later, Brock turned onto a long, blacktop driveway that led to the church’s front doors. It sat in the middle of a large grass-covered field with a cemetery to both the east and west of the building. Large, ancient-looking trees dotted the landscape with several well-groomed oaks shading the church on its back side. Stone walls, six feet in height, completely surrounded the property, the entrance being the only exception. Brock parked the SUV in front of the doors.

  “This can’t be the place,” Brock said. “It’s well taken care of. If aliens were here, wouldn’t it be run down?”

  Grep nodded, looking at Brock as if he couldn’t believe that a logical thought came from him.

  “We have to consider the possibility that they could be intentionally blending in to throw us off,” Grep said.

  “We’re going to check it out. Can’t hurt to look inside,” Magnus said. “Guys, put your silencers on your weapons.”

  Grep reached the door first. It was solid wood with a square base but arched at the top. Inlaid carvings of flowers and vines with the cross of Christ covering the door from top to bottom.

  “It’s a church,” Grep said, shrugging as he opened the door. “Let’s just go on in.”

  A five foot foyer led to a set of double doors, already propped open.

  “Looks like they added these extra doors to weatherproof the interior,” Grep said.

  “Seriously, Einstein?” Brock said. “We don’t need the five cent tour guide commentary.”

  An octagonal counter, waist high, was straight ahead of them. Four granite pillars surrounded the counter to the left and the right, reaching from floor to ceiling. The pillars were cracked along their length with small chunks missing in several places. The ceiling reached an easy twenty feet but the darkness above concealed any detail. Three lamps lit the interior of this room, one on the counter in front of them and two more on small end tables set to the back wall on both sides of a hallway leaving the room. A feint, electrical buzz could be heard from the lamps.

  Additional rooms could be seen to both the left and right. Three on each side with the middle rooms having doors, currently closed.

  “This place is old,” Warren said.

  “Over two hundred years,” a voice said, coming from ahead of them.

  Brock grabbed for his gun but Magnus motioned him to hold. A man leaned up from behind the counter, rubbing his eyes. Magnus figured him to be in his sixties. His unkempt, gray hair nearly covered his brown eyes which were set behind a pair of silver, wire-rimmed glasses. His crooked nose bent left on his face, probably broken sometime in his life.

  “You caught me sleeping. The name is John. What can I do for you?”

  Magnus walked up to the counter. His team moved a few feet left and right of him, staggering their positions and staying well behind.

  “This doesn’t look like a church,” Magnus said.

  “Used to be. Now it’s just a relic. Eventually it will become a tourist site after they repair the place.”

  Magnus studied the man. He was certainly nervous and trying to cover it.

  Something is wrong.

  “Why are you here?” Magnus asked.

  “I could ask you four the same question.”

  “We’re agents working for the CIA. I hope you are willing to answer some questions,” Magnus said.

  “Sure thing. What’s this about?”

  “We’re looking into the murder of a local man found near here.”

  The man dropped his head forward as he brought his hand up to rub his forehead. It appeared to be a simple motion but the man’s eyes glanced down left and right before his hand could cover them.

  It was a signal, but to whom?

  The man’s other hand reached behind him, pulling out something tucked into his pants.

  “Company,” Magnus exclaimed.

  He drew his gun, pointing it at the man’s broken nose. The old man’s motion was slower. It was a gun. Magnus fired, blowing the back of the man’s head out. Their upgrades since New York included silencers which muffled his shot. Two more men popped up from behind the counter leveling their guns at Magnus.

  I’m not going to make it.

  His mind played the scene faster than his body could move. He could shoot one but the other would have enough time to get a shot off. There was nothing he could do.

  I’m not going to make it.

  At least he would take one of them with him. He fired at the one on his left, putting his shot straight through the man’s right eye. He jerked his gun right to fire at the last man knowing he would be too late. The man had his gun pointed at Magnus and his finger squeezing the trigger.

  I’m not going to make it.

  He stared down the gun barrel. He was about to die.

  Chapter 23

  CHURCH OF THE ALIEN

  Earth - Paris, France

  His mind sped up again. His own hand was still in motion, trying to get his gun into position. The muffled sound of gunshots wafted past him. The man’s head snapped left as blood and brains splattered the floor beyond. Warren and Brock had gotten shots off. He released the breath he’d been holding. He nodded at them.

  “Just doing my job, boss man,” Brock said, nodding back.

  “Magnus, you okay?” Warren asked.

  Warren was genuinely concerned about him. He was always thinking of them.

  “I think we’ve been in worse situations,” Magnus answered. “Are these three controlled by aliens?”

  Grep was already examining the bodies, anticipating Magnus’ question.

  “Nothing about them seems alien to me, Magnus. They look like ordinary soldiers. If they were controlled by the Beta aliens, we have no way to know now.”

  “Something is going on here,” Warren said. “Or they wouldn’t have tried to kill us. They would have just ask
ed us to leave.”

  “Guys, stay on alert,” Magnus ordered.

  He motioned for them to spread out and search the area.

  “Mag,” Warren whispered. “I am going to check out the rooms on the east side to make sure no one else is in here.”

  He nodded, motioning Grep to take the west side.

  “Brock, start hiding these bodies. I got the south doorway so I can contact WSO to get us some backup.”

  Warren and Grep moved out while Brock pushed the three dead bodies behind the counter. Magnus returned to the door they had just entered and tapped his EP device three times.

  “Operator,” he said.

  Static.

  He tapped it again.

  “Operator,” he said, purposely sounding out each syllable.

  More static.

  “Alexandria? Tom?”

  Each time he got static.

  Magnus tapped twice.

  “Guys, can you hear me?” he asked.

  “Yes, this room to the southeast is clear, although it smells like something died over hear. I’m checking the room due east next.” Warren whispered into his EP.

  Good, at least the EPs are working inside but why not outside?

  “Holy shit, Mag.” Grep whispered. “You need to get over here quickly. Right the fuck now.”

  Something was wrong as both Grep and Brock were taking shallow breaths.

  “On my way, Grep,” Magnus whispered back. “Looks like we are alone on this one. I can’t reach anyone beyond the church. Keep your EPs on though.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Warren,” Grep cut in. “We have dead bodies over here. Do you have any on your side?”

  Warren gagged several times.

  “Lots of dead bodies over here, Grep.” The sound of Warren coughing came across the EP devices. “Barely holding my lunch down,” Warren said.

  Magnus dashed across the large room to the west side. They had opened the doors which let loose the stench inside. It was inescapable. He slid to a stop, covering his mouth with his shirt. Grep knelt down examining several of the corpses.

  “Dude, how can you stand that damn smell?” Brock asked.

  “Most of what you are smelling is excrement and urine. There are some faint smells of body decomposition - the sulfuric smell. Also, notice the way the blood is pooling in the lowest point of the bodies. Given the temperature-controlled room, no sunlight, and the fact the bodies are stacked on top of each other-”

  “Grep,” Magnus said. “Just tell us what all this means.”

  “I would say these corpses, at least the ones on the outside of the pile, are four to six hours old. Given the time it would take to harvest some of the bodies-”

  “Harvest?” Brock said, a bit too loudly.

  “Keep your voice down,” Magnus ordered under his breath.

  “As I was saying, having 25 to 30 corpses, I would say they’ve been here close to 24 hours.”

  “That means they could be long gone.” Magnus replied.

  “I sure as hell hope not. I want to kick some alien ass,” Brock said, irritated.

  “I don’t think so, Magnus. The bodies look to be the work of two different groups. I think the group that is here now knew of the alien activity and came to clean out the hive. There are certainly two different groups at work here.

  “How certain are you, Grep?” Magnus asked, hearing more in Grep’s comment than he vocalized. “And does that make these guys just humans or humans controlled by alien species number 56 or some shit like that?”

  “Don’t exaggerate--”

  “Guys,” Warren said, interrupting. “You can continue your bullshit conversation later. We have company heading this way. From the south.”

  Brock moved in behind a pillar, motioning to Warren he had his six.

  “Hé, qui êtes-vous?” a voice said from the south.

  Magnus took cover, counting five soldiers standing in the south doorway.

  “Nous devons avoir raté un. Le prendre vivant,” a French soldier said.

  The soldiers pulled out strange looking guns, though from this distance, Magnus couldn’t be sure the type. Warren took cover behind the second pillar, opposite Brock.

  “I will distract them,” Grep said, over his EP. “You guys take them out.”

  “Je suis ici sous les ordres.” Grep said, speaking loud enough for the soldiers to hear.

  The ruse seemed to work as the soldiers focused their attention on Grep. He raised both hands showing them he was unarmed.

  “Go,” Grep whispered, making sure they would hear him through their EPs.

  Warren and Brock stepped around from behind their pillars and started firing. Brock kept moving, squeezing off several rounds. Warren shot two of the soldiers and had to duck back behind the pillar to avoid their return fire. Brock emptied his clip on the other three. He killed two, and shot the last guy in the hand. Brock, still running, grabbed a six foot pole with a cross on top. It snapped off from the stand and, using his momentum along with a club-like swing, he smashed the last soldier’s head.

  Magnus motioned them again into position at the southern doorway.

  “We need to secure the rest of the building,” he whispered. “Brock, stab those five in the abdomen with that cross of yours. We got you covered.”

  A malicious grin filled Brock’s face. He nodded and moved to the fallen soldiers. Warren and Magnus took positions to the left of the doorway while Grep moved to the right. All three covered Brock. When he returned, the five dead soldiers were sprawled in various positions near the middle of the doorway, now with large stab wounds in their midsections. Brock joined Grep, keeping the large pole with the cross on top.

  “You--” Magnus said.

  “You and I will take point.” Grep said. “Brock. Warren. You two cover us. We are going to the end of this small hallway.”

  Brock and Warren moved in behind them, crouching down as they reached the end.

  “Looks like we have three rooms to the right.” Grep said, peaking around the corner. “One large room straight ahead and some stairs to the left.”

  “Brock,” Magnus said, still speaking quietly into his EP. “You watch the stairs to the left. Warren, get the door straight ahead. Grep, you and I will make sure these three rooms are clear.”

  “Got it,” they said in unison.

  Magnus gestured for Grep to take the lead. They quietly followed the right wall to the three doors. Grep checked the first room on the right while Magnus checked the other two past that one. Grep opened the door and fired twice, the silencers they used still giving them the element of surprise. A clang sounded in the room followed by the thud of two bodies hitting the ground. One of them must have dropped something. Magnus glared at Grep who just shrugged his shoulders.

  “This room-” Grep started to say but he cut short when both of the other doors opened. Three rapid pistol shots and three more bodies hit the floor, all with a bullet in the middle of their forehead. Magnus’ gun was locked in the open position, his first clip used up. Thank God for upgrades but he had just one more clip left. Another soldier appeared in the door.

  Shit.

  His hands were already moving. His right thumb dropped the empty clip and his left hand grabbed his extra clip. He was in the middle of the reload when the soldier raised his weapon, pointing it at Magnus. Two muffled shots and the guy fell to the ground, both eyes gone. Magnus finished the reload and chambered his round.

  “Thanks, Grep,” Magnus said. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at me.”

  “That was really bad,” Grep groaned. “Really... bad.”

  They checked the other two rooms.

  “All clear. Grep and I are on our way back.”

  “Roger that,” Warren responded.

  “If we survive this day then the first round is on me,” Magnus told them.

  “Hell yeah,” Brock answered him back. “Maybe they have a 3 for 1 special again?”

  Magnus p
ointed Brock and Warren to the double doors ahead. They moved into position at the doors to the south. It didn’t take them long and they returned to report the room empty.

  “Alright guys, let’s head upstairs and check it out.” Magnus whispered, leading the way.

  They reached the fifth step when Brock grabbed Magnus’ leg. Magnus didn’t need the warning, as he heard it too. Two more soldiers were coming down the stairs, both carrying dead bodies. The corpses reminded Magnus of all the innocent deaths behind him in the two rooms and these guards were probably carrying more of them down to join the piles of death below. Instead of taking cover, he stood, putting a single shot into each guard. Warren and Brock jumped forward, grabbing the guards, hoping to minimize the noise they would make when they fell. It worked.

  Magnus motioned to hold then he moved cautiously forward, putting his back against the wall. He peeked around the corner, pulling his head back quickly. Several shots rang out hitting the wall next to him. Magnus kept the image of the five soldiers in his head, noting their positions. He leaned out quickly, firing three rapid shots and then withdrawing back. Two left. The soldiers returned fire but their shots missed again. Sheetrock and pieces of wood fiber flew everywhere. Magnus dropped another one before taking cover again. The dead soldier’s body rolled down the stairs, coming to rest near Brock. He took the cross and smashed the soldier’s head in, then stabbed him in the midsection.

  “Your soul is now cleansed, my son,” Brock joked.

  “You are certainly not a priest,” Grep told him. “Doesn’t God have some standards?”

  “Well, call me Father Brock anyway,” he whispered. “I can purify your soul with my cross of forgiveness.”

  “Dudes,” Warren said. “We could die here and you’re joking around.”

  They both shrugged. The last soldier, at the top of the stairs, turned to run but Warren had already fired, dropping him. Magnus gave Warren a thumbs up and then continued on up the stairs, reaching the next floor. He motioned for them to follow. Grep and Warren were right behind him but Brock was still several steps behind, pulling the cross from the soldier’s body. They were all keeping cover when they heard a metallic, clinking sound hitting the opposite wall. Time slowed as Magnus’ instincts told him to move.