Outlaws of Babylon

by Eugene W. Cundiff

  Aces nodded, grimly. “About right. I won’t lie to you little one, it's dangerous business. That is why we needed the most dangerous soldiers we can find. Given the fact you and your partner-in-crime came to our service all the way from the other side of the country, and given how you took down Reno's entire operation in one night? You both decidedly qualify. And we’ve seen what Petrovich’s son can do too. He looks damned handy in a scrap.”

  “Much as I hate to admit it.” Kurt slipped through the door. He looked first to Ric, then to the Sheriff. “Wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but was bringing Mory some med reports. Heard she was here.”

  “Fair enough Killer, no beef. Saves me having to go get you. You in, then?”

  Kurt sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah. Though it makes me a little uncomfortable, stealing from people who might well need what we’re taking.”

  Ric shook his head. “We need it too, from sounds of it.”

  “Not like they won’t have a replacement shipment headed out in an hour after the news gets to them anyway, little one.” Aces reassured Kurt.

  “I guess.”

  “They’d show us no such courtesy to even ponder the ethics of it if we had something they needed, 'Killer.' You’ve been there, in that life, little one. Can you deny that?”

  Kurt gave a tired, haggard shake of his head to the Sheriff. "No. But one more thing before I agree to this. This is only to help the people on the street. I see them going hungry and Irish suits looking fat? I'm going to take issue. Especially since your boss still won't raise a hand to help with the Sixes." There was a dangerous look in Kurt's eyes, a look the Sheriff returned in full. Roc quickly cut in.

  “So we're agreed, and Kurt's onboard. What’s the plan, then?”

  Aces calmly lifted her device up to him, allowing him to properly read the map it displayed. She pointed to two locations along the convoy's route. “We’ll set an ambush here, and deploy you and your group here.”

  “Hit from the flank?”

  “Clever boy.”

  “I try. How long until we need to move out?"

  "The convoy is due in six hours. Given weather and the condition of the streets, we should move out in three."

  Ric nodded to the Sheriff. Then he looked to Kurt. "How long will it take to get everyone marshaled up, besides our home security detail?"

  "Given we've been running drills since the Six attack, probably about an hour?"

  The Boss of the Zero nodded.

  "Good. Get them rounded up. Time to get this plan in motion.”

  09

  The soldiers of the Sixth Day gathered in the long-abandoned church, heads bowed and weapons readied. The weary, hard-eyed High Paladin stood at the front of their congregation.

  "And I say unto you my brothers, we soon march to glory! Forces of the Fallen Babylon bring us gifts in their ignorance, gifts that will allow us to complete the Lord's work in this blasphemous ruin!" Whitechapel pounded his fist down upon the splintery pulpit before him."We will purge the forces of Satan. We will avenge the murder of our Brother-Paladin Michael Vega, may he rest in glory!"

  The gathered men shouted back in chorus. "May he rest in glory!"

  "We will rescue my children from the demons' clutches! We will purify the sacred ground they have polluted and defiled! And when they are destroyed, we will bring our crusade to the other sinners of this modern-day Gomorrah! The Council will fall! The Queen in her debauched Gardens will fall! So shall it be!"

  "So shall it be!"

  "Indeed, brothers. Indeed it shall. All that we have fought for is within our grasp. All that we require now is your courage and your skill, so that we may claim the keys to this city's salvation. Rest now, pray now, and trust in the guidance of your elders. Know that shall you die in the Service of Heaven, you will rest forever in glory alongside our martyred brothers!"

  "So shall it be!"

  Whitechapel nodded to the men, then quietly slipped down from the pulpit. He raised his shotgun high as he made his way down the aisle between the pews, pausing to touch the weapon's barrel to the shoulder of each man in turn. He paused when he came to the pew where Benjamin Talone sat beside Jonah McMahon, leaning in to speak with them once he had bestowed his blessing. "You two, come with me. Your service in the matter of the Queen's prisoners has earned you a more exalted position in the battle ahead."

  McMahon rose, bowing deeply. "You honor us, High Paladin."

  Whitechapel smiled grimly."You say that now, McMahon. But both of you, walk with me."

  McMahon slid from the pew, with Benny following soon behind. Whitechapel lead them out of the church and into the late-autumn snowfall. He twisted the end of his greying mustache as he spoke to Benny.

  "Brother Jonah tells me that you have been troubled of late, Brother Benjamin."There was no emotion in the High Paladin's voice. Benny swallowed, hesitantly nodding to the Vet.

  "I have faith in our Lord's will and in the words of our Reverend, his prophet."

  "Yet your heart still wavers in the face of the work His will requires."

  The young man recoiled, head bowed. Whitechapel raised a hand to him. "As I told you the night Michael Vega went to glory, you are not so different than were McMahon and myself once, Benjamin. We, too, once were children in the bodies of men. We spake as children, understood as children, reasoned as children. But war made us men, Brother, and as men we did away with childish things. It is as I said before, Brother Benjamin. Your childhood is at an end, and you must now put aside childish things."

  Benny stopped, kneeling penitently before Whitechapel."You are right, High-Paladin. I know this is a weakness, and that weakness shames me. I am unworthy of His service."

  Whitechapel's grim face softened, and he put a hand on Benny's shoulder. "We all are sinners, Brother Benjamin. We all are unworthy. Yet so long as we face our sins and give our all in the battle to transcend them, the Lord forgives us. Do not regret your weaknesses, Brother. Rise, and conquer them."

  Benny nodded, rising slowly to his feet. "Yes, High-Paladin. You said you had a task for us. Tell me, how may I serve?"

  "Yes. It is my understanding that you are a capable driver."

  "Yes, High-Paladin. My father drove trucks, ran cargo. He taught me."

  Whitechapel nodded. "Good. You will ride with me, and when we seize the Federal convoy, we will trust you to deliver it while our brothers hold off pursuit. This is your test, Benjamin. The cargo it carries is the key to our victory, and we will not have another chance like this given to us. Our noble brothers within the walls of Jericho have risked much to bring this to pass, and we must not fail to claim it. You must not fail, Benjamin. The eyes of the Lord are upon you. As are mine."

  Those last words sent a chill down Benny's spine, but he answered in a voice that did not betray his fear. "Yes, High-Paladin. I will not fail you."

  "So shall it be, Brother Benjamin."

  "So shall it be, High Paladin."

  Whitechapel nodded, then he slipped past Benny and McMahon. McMahon shook his head, watching as the High Paladin climbed into his waiting car and drove off down the desolate street.

  "That man is the best of us, Benny-boy. All the troubles he has suffered, and he still cares only for the cause. You've been given a rare honor, I hope you know. As he says, the Lord's eyes are surely upon you now."

  Benny nodded, forcing his expression to show a confidence he did not feel. "I will not fail Him, Brother Jonah."

  The old Vet's cold eyes met Benny's own. "I trust you know the cost to be paid if you should be proven wrong, Benjamin. The Lord is forgiving, but his soldiers are not."

  Benny's resolve wavered, and it took all his will to force the fear from his voice as he answered his superior. "I will not fail to serve the Lord's will, Brother Jonah. So shall it be!"

  "So shall it be."

  The Vet headed back into the church to rejoin the congregation, leaving Benny alone on the now-empty street. The young man stood there in the snow, his
heart filled with a dread far colder than the bitter winds whistling through the decaying buildings that surrounded him. The wintry desolation made him feel very small, and Benny did the only thing he could think to do. He returned to his knees beneath a long-dead streetlamp, praying that the Lord would show him the way through the death-shadowed valley through which he now walked.

  10

  “I try to warn you about these bad ideas.”

  “Shaddap Dollface.”

  “Not my fault you let yourself get talked into this.”

  “Shaddap Dollface.”

  “Both of you shut up and keep your eyes open for the signal!”

  The two Californians blinked, turning to look at Kurt. He scowled at them both.

  “Damn, I think I liked him better when he was a puppy.”

  “Everything okay there?” Mory’s voice crackled from the short-range radio Aces had provided the three teens. Kurt quickly answered it.

  “Situation normal, Mor.”

  “So Ric and Jen are bickering?”

  “Like I said. Situation normal.”

  A slight, nervous chuckle escaped the radio. Kurt could not hide a slight smile of his own as his comrades turned to scowl in his direction.

  “Alright then. Over and out.”

  The radio went dead again. Kurt pulled the heavy overcoat he wore tighter around himself, gazing down the long stretch of roadway below their watchpost.

  “Be ready. We need to make sure they get caught in the chokepoint when they get here,”

  “Which is why you’re here, Killer.”

  “Yeah, I know. Anyway –“Kurt was cut off by a low rumbling sound in the distance. “That’s them, the convoy! Get ready! Down out of sight!”Kurt ducked down against the building’s roof, and the Californians followed suit. The wheels of the armored trucks thundered down the broken asphalt toward them, and Kurt scanned the surrounding buildings. "I need to find us a roadblock." The exile's eyes landed on the gutted ruin of an office building across the street from their perch. “There we go. Now we just wait and –“

  Kurt's words were lost in the deafening roar of an explosion. The eruption was followed by the dull shriek of metal and tortured masonry as the tottering old building careened to the street. Choking dust enveloped the three. Through the haze and the snow, Kurt could see Jen spitting curses, but the ringing in his ears kept him from hearing the specifics of her profanity. Ric’s voice finally became audible, and Kurt turned to him. “Was that the plan?!”

  The Californian's face was pale. “Not the plan! This is not the plan!”

  “Then who just did that?"“

  The young men turned eyes to the street below, just in time to see the flashes of muzzle fire through the dust and snow. The gunfire erupted like lightning, and the sound of the guns echoed like thunder in the wintry haze. Black-shirted figures emerged from the neighboring ruins, moving swiftly toward the slowing convoy.

  “Sixes!” Ric growled. “Here for the same thing we are! Do your thing, Killer!”

  “Against who?”

  “Anyone not on our side! Just start the party already!”

  The radio crackled to life, and Ric snatched it from Kurt’s belt. As Ric spoke with their allies, the other young man’s eyes began to burn with blue fire. “Happy Hanukkah…” Kurt quipped under his breath. He focused his power, and as the Sixes began to engage the Preserve forces, he lashed them both with scything force. Absolute madness overtook the battlefield as Kurt unleashed his wrath. A bellowing cry rose up from below.

  “Demons!”

  Kurt smiled grimly.

  “Ric, you ready to get down there?”

  “Ready, willing, and able!”

  “And insane! It’s a warzone down there!” Jen protested. Ric grinned.

  “Are you kidding? High school back in Cali was a warzone. This? This is a party!” He slammed his hands together once and looked to Kurt.

  “Beam me down, Scotty!”

  “You know that he never actually said that, right?”

  “Shaddap Dollface!" Ric laughed as he felt Kurt's power heft him into the air, and his own eyes flashed violet as he faded from sight. Kurt dropped him into an alley across the street from chaotic skirmish below. Jen growled, massaging her temples.

  “Damn it, he’s insane!” Jen growled.

  Kurt shrugged. “Probably. But this plan is so damned crazy it might just work. So long as they don’t figure out where we’re attacking fr-“

  The low masonry wall surrounding their rooftop perch shattered in a storm of dust and rubble, raked by a spate of gunfire.

  “Nice work jinxing us, Killer!”

  “Yeah yeah!” Kurt scanned the battlefield below to find the shooter. He hurled the doomed Six through the air. The man slammed impact a wall with a sickening thud.

  “We’re absolutely sure this is going to work, Killer?”

  “Relatively sure.” Kurt smiled grimly, watching for Ric's next move.

  ◆◆◆

  Ric's muscles tensed as his feet touched onto the concrete. His grip tightened around his gun, and he pulled his knife from its sheath. He took a deep breath. The familiar weight of his weapons soothed his raging nerves. His eyes focused on the cargo truck’s cab. He watched the chaos of the battle, waiting for an opening.

  “Time to go to work.”

  Ric ducked low to the ground and began his hurried approach to the driver’s side door. He had circling the stalled vehicle’s heavily-armored grill and was reaching for the handle when the door swung open and outward. Ric leapt back, barely avoiding being struck by it. A masked, heavily-armored soldier emerged from the vehicle with gun held ready, and a loud gunshot sounded. The Californian hit the ground, and an eternal moment passed before he realized the soldier had not fired at him. The soldier hadn’t fired at all. The man had staggered backward into the vehicle, his armor having taken the brunt of the shot. Ric desperately looked about, seeking the downed soldier's attacker. It did not take him long. The figure slipped out of the swirling snow, a heavy double-barreled shotgun held toward the wounded soldier. A long black jacket billowed out behind the man like the wings of the angel of death come calling, an impression the man's hard and world-worn face did nothing to discourage. His long, greying red hair and drooping mustache made him seem like a cowboy gunslinger out of an old vid. The man turned his pale and hateful eyes to the staggered soldier. The wiry, aging Six said nothing, simply and opening fire. At such close range, the soldier's helmet did nothing to save him. Ric watched unseen as the elder Six callously painted the truck’s side with the contents of the soldier’s head, but it was not the wanton brutality of the Six's actions that struck the Californian to the core. It was the man’s eyes. They were pale and cold, full of hatred and fury, but that was not why the older man's gaze unsettled him. It chilling familiarity he saw in those eyes. Those dead eyes were so alike to the eyes of the woman he had come to love that Ric knew beyond any doubt he was looking upon Mory’s wayward father, Alistair Whitechapel.

  11

  Ric took cover behind the truck's open door, and Alistair Whitechapel snarled into the comm of his tactical headset.

  “The driver is down. Begin to clear a path behind us for extraction.”

  “Yes Paladin Whitechapel, right away!”

  The Californian watched silently as the elder Six moved to a defensive position, leaving the door open and waiting. Swiftly weighing his options, Ric quietly slipped into the vehicle. Ducking into cover behind the passenger seat, he whispered into his own radio.

  “We have a problem. Sixes have attacked the guard detail on the convoy .They have firearms and heavy explosives, and Mory’s father is leading them. Repeat, the leader of the Sixes attacking our target is Mory's father.”

  Aces' response was low and calm. “Stay low and do not engage.”

  Ric groaned. “No, I thought I’d solo the Sixes and the Feds all by my lonesome. I’m in the cab, Kurt. Mind a lift?”

  “Buckle your
ass in and get ready for a rough ride.”

  “That’s what she said, Killer!”

  Ric groaned again and swiftly complied, preparing for what was coming. “I'm ready. And shaddap Dollface!”

  ◆◆◆

  “You’re really going to try this?”

  “Do or do not, Jen.” Kurt held out his hands, his gaze focused intently on the heavy vehicle. His eyes blazed with blue light, and the air wavered all around the heavy vehicle below

  “Sheriff? Yeah, this is Jen. Killer has locked on. Repeat, Killer’s about to move the vehicle, and Boytoy’s in the cab, ready to direct, get ready to move in at my wo-“

  A thundering gunshot rang out, and Kurt stumbled back. One of his hands clutched at his side, desperately attempting to staunch the blood flowing from it. There was the dull crash as the heavy vehicle collapsed back to the asphalt, sending Six and Fed alike scattering. Jen exploded into a storm of expletives as she dropped flat onto the roof. She crawled toward the sprawled form of Kurt.

  “Killer! Killer, you with me?”

  Kurt groaned and shook his head. He struggled to a sitting position as he looked to the punk. “I’ll live. Mor should be able to patch this free and clear. Hurts something fierce, though. But check on Ric! I didn't have it up too high up yet, but...“

  “Damn it, you’re right... hold tight, stay low.” Jen snatched up Kurt’s radio. “Boytoy! Boytoy, are you all right down there? Damn it Ric answer me!”

  ◆◆◆

  Ric’s mind reeled and his vision swam as the dull ache of consciousness returned to him.

  “Boytoy! Boytoy are you all right down there? Damn it Ric answer me!”Jen’s voice was shrill, especially heard through the tinny speakers of the small radio. The panic and concern was obvious in her voice. Ric grimaced with pain as he lifted the radio from the cab's floor.

  “Aww, you really do care.”

  “Piss off and stop making me regret that. You’re all right, then?”

  “Nothing broken or bruised too badly. How’s Killer? That damned airlift dropped pretty quick.”