by I. T. Lucas
A projectile flew over Dalhu and Bhathian’s head, landing inside the container.
“That’s what I call a score,” the shooter congratulated himself.
After that it rained crumpled paper bags as the rest of the guys joined the game. One of them missed, hitting Andrew in the head.
“Hey, watch it! A fragile human here!”
Dalhu smiled. Those who never went to war, didn’t realize how warriors handled the time just before the battle. No one would imagine them eating lunch, joking around, and regressing into boys.
In less than two hours, though, these same men would morph into killing machines. That part was easy. The hard part was morphing back. For some it would take days, for others months, and some would get stuck in that mode and never come back.
Chapter 20: Kian
“Let me fight, Kian, or at least join the rescue team. The kidnapped women will cooperate better with a female. Our guys will look no different to them than the Doomers, or maybe even scarier. Can you imagine the reaction they’ll get given the gear they’d be wearing?” Kri had been arguing her case for the last five minutes, and Kian’s resistance was faltering.
Considering the large number of Guardians going in with her, Kri would be safe. She might get injured, but the chances of Doomers somehow managing to take her captive were so slim that they were nearly nonexistent. He couldn’t, not in good conscience, tell her that he still feared she’d fall into enemy hands. That he didn’t want to see his young niece hurt was his problem, not hers. Kri was a fighter who’d been training for this for decades. To deny her would be wrong.
“Did you bring your body armor? I can’t let you fight without it.”
She smirked. “Of course I did. I’m an optimist.”
Damn, she’d known he’d cave in. “Fine. But once you get the women out, you take them to the bus and stay there. I don’t want to see you rejoining the fighting. Are we clear?”
Kri jumped on him and hugged him, very un-warrior like. “Thank you, Kian. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Over her shoulder, Kian glared at the amused expression on the faces of the male Guardians. They were going to taunt her to destruction over this. He pushed her away. “Stop it, you’re embarrassing yourself.” She’d been so excited that she paid no attention to the snorting and chuckling behind her.
Kri turned around and flipped the guys with both hands. “You watch and see, boys. I’m going to show you how it’s done.”
“Sure, lass. Don’t get your panties in a wad.” Niall patted her shoulder.
“Grrr. You guys are all caveman. This is the twenty-first century!” She stomped her foot on the ground, then kicked a stone before marching back to the bus to get her gear.
Too big to pass through the trees and make it into the clearing, the buses were parked on the side of the road, about five hundred feet before the turn into the single lane leading up to the monastery.
Bearing the name Trinity Christian High School, the buses were supposed to imply teenagers on a field trip. Kian’s Lexus and William’s van were parked inside the clearing, hidden behind the line of trees. The van was an old beaten up VW, but that was the outside. On the inside, it had equipment to make the Blackbird spy plane jealous.
Hopefully, the yellow buses would be ignored by any Doomers going out or coming back. They hadn’t been in the area long enough to know if school trips to the mountains around Ojai were a common occurrence or not.
Kian faced the large group of warriors. “Listen up. I want to go over the basics again. Stationary cameras are mounted at five-hundred-feet intervals all along the road leading up to the monastery. Which means that the four hundred remaining feet in between them are big ass blind spots.” He motioned to the ‘hikers’ to join him up front.
“Monica, Ashley, and Amber are going first, with Sylvia and Ruth five hundred feet behind them, and everybody else another hundred feet behind Sylvia. When we reach about a hundred feet before the first camera, we stop. The three will continue. Once they pass the second camera, Sylvia will move forward and fritz out the first one. Everyone will follow and stop again a hundred feet before the next one. I don’t have to remind you to keep the ranks tight. We can’t spread out. Listen to your earpieces. William has everybody on a grid, and he will tell you when to move and when to stop.”
Bridget and her crew of two medics were to his left, standing apart from the warriors. Kian turned to give them their instructions. “Small change in plans. Kri is joining the rescue team, which means that when the signal comes that the compound is secured, one of you will have to drive the second bus up there.”
“No problem, I’ll do it.” Bridget waved her hand.
“Andrew, you know your assignment. Help William with the communications.”
“Yes, sir.” Andrew saluted.
Kian smirked. That was the first time Andrew had treated him as a commander and not a brother-in-law.
“Don’t get used to that. It was just an old reflex. I haven’t been out of the service long enough.”
“We’ll see. I like getting some respect from you for a change.”
Andrew looked like he was itching to say something back, but, wisely refrained. Even though Kian wasn’t flaunting any official titles, he was in charge. To disrespect him in front of the troops, even as a joke, would have been inappropriate.
“Let’s move out, people. William, you got us?”
“Everyone’s number is on my screen,” William answered inside his earpiece.
The first group of ‘hikers’ started walking, and a few minutes later William told Sylvia and Ruth to move out. The rest of the troop followed a hundred feet behind. Kian led the group of warriors, Anandur and Brundar flanking him on each side. Dalhu was right behind him. The irony of an ex-Doomer guarding his back and him trusting said ex-Doomer to fight by his side wasn’t lost on Kian.
How things had changed…
As instructed, no one in their group talked. The hikers were supposed to act naturally, and that included chitchat. A group of women walking in silence would’ve made even a Doomer suspicious.
It was a slow and annoying progression. The girls were keeping an easy pace, which seemed to Kian snail slow. The other warriors probably felt the same.
The good news was that the road was only about a mile long. They’ll be at the monastery walls in no time. The cameras there didn’t leave any blind spots, but that would no longer be a problem. Once Sylvia fritzed out the last of the stationary ones, William’s drones would start dropping explosives at strategic points of the big wall, and Yamanu would shroud the entire area in a thick mental cloud. No mortal in a fifty mile radius would hear anything.
As they halted for the last time, Kian shrugged off the backpack he’d been carrying, and each of the warriors followed suit. Unlike humans, who couldn’t fight in heavy armor, immortals were strong enough to do so covered head to toe in reinforced body armor and ballistic helmets. Bullets couldn’t kill them directly, but a strategic hit could incapacitate an immortal long enough for an enemy to finish him off with either fangs or a sword. Given that the Doomers were armed with machine guns, the specially designed suiting was a necessary precaution.
The clan owned most of the patents and the only manufacturing facility that made them. It wasn’t a for profit enterprise, not yet. Very few orders had been made since the rumors about the special armor began spreading. But even if none of the human governments would’ve ordered any, it was fine by Kian. For now it safeguarded his people. Later, when the lighter version they were trying to develop was ready, many more orders would come.
Once everyone was suited up, they marched the remaining three hundred feet, and Sylvia took care of the last camera. When the explosions started, the hikers turned around and started running back downhill, while the warriors charged ahead.
Anandur left Kian’s side, joining the rescue group, and Dalhu took his place, guarding Kian’s flank. With the masks on, it was hard to tell who was who, but Dalhu was
easy to identify. His height and Kian’s sword strapped to his side gave him away.
Surreal. Kian felt safer with the ex-Doomer by his side than even Anandur, his trusted bodyguard for close to a millennium. Dalhu was a force to be reckoned with, and what was even more unbelievable, Kian trusted him.
As they breached the shredded wall, Doomers started filing out the monastery’s front door, some carrying swords but most carrying machine guns. Just as Kian had known they would. They started firing immediately, but the bullets could do Kian and his men no harm. Nothing save for a missile could penetrate their armor.
Which wasn’t outside the realms of possibility.
According to the snitch, the weapons the Doomers had ordered included several portable missile launchers.
The Doomers realized pretty quickly that bullets were ineffective, and most retreated into the building. If not for the women, Kian would’ve blown the whole thing up, reducing it to dust. But that wasn’t an option. The Guardians would have to fight inside the building. It was going to be a bitch.
As Kian ran full speed ahead, his heavy boots pounding the ground in sync with Dalhu and Brundar’s, he had the passing thought that to humans they must’ve looked like alien invaders. Their masks and their body armor were the stuff of a science fiction movie—their gear belonging on some futuristic soldiers.
Suddenly, there was an explosion behind him, missing him and his companions by only a few feet. As the force of it propelled them forward, Kian found himself sprawled on the ground, face down, with Dalhu’s hulking body on top of him, and no air coming into his lungs.
Fuck, he hoped the guy wasn’t hurt and was just playing hero. If the idiot had been injured, or fates forbid killed, while shielding him, Kian would rather face fifty Doomers—alone with no backup—than come home to face Amanda with the news.
Experimentally, Kian bucked up, trying to get the heavy weight off him. It took several moments before Dalhu rolled away and Kian’s ribcage could expand to take a breath.
He wanted to ask Dalhu what the hell he thought he was doing, but his earpiece wasn’t functioning. Either that or his left ear had gone deaf. The piece must’ve gotten damaged from the explosion. In either case, he had to remove the headgear to be able to communicate.
Fuck.
Chapter 21: Sebastian
As Sebastian looked at the warriors surrounding him, he schooled his expression into a mask of calm and confidence. His tone was measured as he addressed the men. “Don’t worry, the traitor will be brought to justice.”
Years of practicing self-discipline helped him hide the shit storm going on in his head. Hopefully, nothing in his demeanor revealed the boiling hot anger that was threatening to consume him. A leader had to show a cool head at all times. Losing it in front of the men was out of the question, and experience had taught him that pretending was the first step in controlling the rage.
Fronting calm helped.
Besides, he didn’t have time to vent. Time was of the essence, and phone calls had to be made.
Leaving the warriors down in the basement, Sebastian climbed up to his third-floor apartment, focusing on keeping his limbs loose and his steps measured and unhurried. A perfect performance intended to impress upon his men that their leader was always in control.
Hell, he was impressing himself.
Sebastian had managed to keep the same measured and calm tone throughout all of the fifteen phone calls he’d made. When his objective had been achieved, he hung up the phone, put the handset back on its cradle, and leaned back in his chair.
He hadn’t expected to spend so much time on what he’d perceived as a simple request, but in the end he had gotten what he’d wanted. One of his contacts had a guy who specialized in hacking into traffic cameras’ databases, and then running the information through a specialized program to identify a specific car model in a specific area.
Sebastian had been under the impression that traffic cameras worked nonstop, taking pictures of license plates, but he’d learned that it wasn’t so. Those that could read plates were activated only when a car crossed a red light, and those that videotaped regular traffic had resolution that was often too low to read something as small as letters and digits on a plate. Problem was, Robert’s minivan was a popular model, and Sebastian doubted the guy would be crossing any red lights. Still, he hoped to get lucky, and that the hacker would find something useful, All Sebastian needed was the direction in which Robert and Carol were going.
He’d reserved a private plane, and it was on standby ready and fueled. Once he knew where they were heading, Sebastian and a couple of his men would fly to the next town and intercept them.
A shaky plan, but it was the best he’d come up with.
Capturing Robert and Carol was not optional. His men would never respect him again if he failed to bring the traitor and the escapee back and make an example out of them.
While the men watched, Sebastian would make sure that Robert’s death was slow and painful. He was going to delight in punishing the traitor, but it was a shame he would have to do the same to Carol. Punishing her was what she deserved, but he didn’t want to kill her. After all, immortal females weren’t exactly dropping into his lap every day. He might never find another one.
Regrettably, she’d forced his hand in this.
Left with nothing to do other than wait for the phone call, Sebastian was tempted to pay Letty a visit. Except, it was a bad idea to engage with the female at the enraged state he was in. He should try and calm down first.
Killing her would only make him angrier. He couldn’t afford to lose both of his playmates before he secured a new one.
Pushing up to his feet, Sebastian paced the length of his study, then stepped outside onto his balcony for a breath of fresh air. A buzzing sound attracted his attention and he looked up with a frown. A toy plane was zipping toward the wall surrounding the monastery.
Curious, he appraised it. The toy was impressive, not one of those tiny models sold in stores. This one was big, and quite fast…
As the thing got closer, it dawned on him that what he was looking at wasn’t a toy at all. This was a military grade drone.
Someone was spying on them.
The rage must’ve melted the gears in his brain because it took him another moment to connect the dots. Robert had not only absconded with Carol, but had betrayed them to the enemy.
The drone was probably sent by the Guardians and was taking shots of the compound, or videotaping it.
The clan was planning an attack.
He needed to shoot the drone down and raise the alarm. His assault rifle was in the closet, and Sebastian ran to retrieve it. Loading it with ammunition on his way back, he was about to burst out onto the balcony when the explosions started.
Son of a bitch. They were under attack.
The sight that greeted him chilled him to the bone. The drone was joined by three more, and the little suckers were dropping explosives on the compound’s wall. But that wasn’t the worst of it; through the newly created entry points, an army of invading robots was pouring in. Because these couldn’t have been Guardians. The clan didn’t have that many. They must’ve used their technological knowhow to create the mechanical fighters.
Ingenious fuckers.
Machine guns in hand, his men were running out of the building and shooting at the invaders that kept advancing as if they were being pelted with hail and not bullets.
Robots, definitely.
“Get back inside,” he shouted at his men to retreat. They were going to get slaughtered by these monsters. Someone with initiative launched a missile, but the idiot overshot and the thing missed three of the machines by a couple of feet. The blast lifted them in the air and propelled them several feet forward despite how heavy the robots looked. For a moment, he thought they would stay down. But no, they were on their feet and one of them removed his headgear, shaking out his longish, sweat-saturated hair.
Not a robot. A male. Immort
al. In a very fancy body armor.
Sebastian marched back to his closet, returned the rifle to its stand and grabbed a sword. He pulled it out of its scabbard, flung the leather sheath at the wall and marched out.
The body armor protected the Guardians from bullets, but a sword thrust with enough force would cut through. This wasn’t going to be a gentlemanly fencing duel. Sebastian was going to aim at the most vulnerable spot; the exposed seam between helmet and suit.
The quickest way to dispatch an immortal was to chop off his head.
Running down the stairs to the second floor, he leaped over the railing down to the first, landed on his feet, and shouted orders as he bolted for the front door to help the men barricade it. “Drop the rifles and get rocket launchers and swords. These are immortals in body armor.”
The heavy wooden door wasn’t going to hold for long, but hopefully the few extra moments would give his men time to arm themselves with the right weapons.
“Bring the dining table and make a shield,” he shouted as he helped push the heavy sideboard against the door.
Two men upended the large wooden table, then Sebastian and the warriors who’d armed themselves already got behind it. The Guardians had protective gear, but his men didn’t. He hadn’t seen the invaders carrying anything other than swords, but if they had rifles as well, the table would shield him and his men from bullets.
Two more man leaped over the railing and joined him behind the table, one of them holding an RPG.
Thank Mortdh.
With the invaders about to break the front door, Sebastian was glad to hear several pairs of boots pounding down the stairs. Once the Guardians broke in, he would need as many men as possible to hold them off.
Suddenly, the pounding noises stopped. It seemed that for now the Guardians had given up on breaking the door. Sebastian didn’t doubt for a moment that they would resume their effort soon. Focusing on the front, Sebastian was startled by the sound of shattering glass. The dining room window imploded, and the next second several immortals jumped through.
