Mercury Falls

by Robert Kroese

  “They might still be on the road then.”

  “Maybe. Probably not, though. They’d want to get off the road and hide out somewhere safe, as soon as they were outside the chaos caused by that implosion. So I’d say we look on the main roads out of the city, twenty to a hundred miles outside of L.A., somewhere relatively secluded. Tiamat is known for her personal phalanx of combat-trained demons, so they shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

  Mercury scanned the rocky coast of Malibu and the sparsely populated areas off I-5 before finding a red patch in the middle of the San Bernardino forest.

  “There they are,” he said. “Sitting ducks.”

  “Yes,” said Izbazel. “Looks like about thirty sitting ducks. With automatic weapons.”

  “It’ll be okay,” said Mercury. “I’ve got an idea. Just give me a minute to call Uzziel and let him know what we’re up to.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  After Mercury had briefed Uzziel – leaving out certain details to avoid breaking his contract with Lucifer – he and Izbazel headed south to the location indicated by the case. Being cherubim, they were capable of a top airspeed of nearly three hundred miles per hour, and they managed the journey from Lodi to the San Bernardino Forest in just over forty-five minutes. When they got within a mile of Tiamat’s stronghold, they landed and crept to the top of a ridge overlooking the cottage. The sun hung just above the horizon in the west.

  “You feel that?” asked Mercury.

  “Some kind of disturbance in the Angel Band?” guessed Izbazel.

  “It’s a Mundanity Enhancement Field, centered on that cottage,” replied Mercury. “Seems to be about a hundred yards in diameter. She probably set it up to keep Lucifer from finding her. We’ll have to be careful. We won’t be able to pull off any miracles within that sphere.”

  “But neither will they.”

  “True, but you don’t need as many miracles when you have a Kevlar vest and an M4 carbine.”

  Neither angel had been involved in a hostage extraction previously, but they had both watched enough Mundane television to know that their best bet was for one of them to create a diversion that would lure the bulk of the guards away from the cottage while the other released the captives. They had seen this work dozens of times, although generally the odds were not quite so lopsided, and it tended to involve more diving sideways in slow motion while firing two large caliber handguns simultaneously than either of them was comfortable with. Mercury persuaded Izbazel to accept the task of extracting Christine and Karl mainly by reminding him that it was the diversion-creator who usually ended up gasping something in his dying breath about going on without him.

  “Just remember,” said Mercury, “you won’t be able to use transplanar energy inside that sphere. If you get caught outside of it, though, you’ve got the advantage. They’ll avoid using miracles to keep from drawing attention to Tiamat’s stronghold, so they’ll stick with their assault rifles. Once you get Karl and Christine out of that bubble, use miracles to protect them from the bullets. The bullets won’t kill you, of course, but they’ll slow you down and hurt like hell, so protect yourself as well.”

  “Hang on, Merc,” said Izbazel. “You forget, I’m a wanted angel. I can’t afford to draw too much attention to myself either. If I start moving bullets around by harnessing interplanar energy, Heaven will be able to get a lock on me. They’ll hit me with a Class Five as soon as they catch wind of me.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Mercury. “I’ve apprised Uzziel of what’s going on. There won’t be any unwanted interference.” This was true, from a certain point of view.

  “Meanwhile, you’ll be doing what exactly?”

  “Diversion,” said Mercury.

  “Right, but what kind of diversion, exactly, are we talking about?”

  “The diverting kind. The kind that makes you go, ‘Hey, what’s that? I think we should maybe take a better look at that.’”

  “I’m going to be a newt, aren’t I?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I got your diversion covered. You just get as close as you can to that cottage and wait for the diversion.”

  “Which will be...”

  “You’ll know it when you see it. It will be very diverting.”

  “Yeah,” Izbazel said. “I’m sure.”

  The two of them split up and headed toward the cottage from different angles.

  Izbazel might have felt better about the plan if he knew that Mercury really did have one hell of a diversion in mind. He probably would not have been too keen, however, on the exact nature of the diversion.

  FORTY

  Izbazel crept as stealthily as he could toward the rear of the cottage. He was roughly three hundred yards away, moving gingerly from tree to tree.

  “Bloody hell,” muttered Izbazel, an exclamation that could have applied equally to any of the countless annoyances that were currently plaguing him.

  First and foremost, he was annoyed that his attempt to assassinate Karl had gone sideways. He had given up a cushy job in the angelic bureaucracy to work for Lucifer, and needed badly to ingratiate himself to the Evil One. He was annoyed that no matter how this ended, he would not be moving into a cozy faux Tudor in Hidden Oakes with a view of Hidden Oakes Golf Course and Country Club. He was annoyed that he probably would not need a house in any case, as this little adventure would most likely end in him being turned into a newt. He was annoyed that he didn’t actually know what a newt was.

  He had been annoyed for some time now with the fact that he had been outsmarted by that nitwit Gamaliel, but that annoyance was overshadowed by his annoyance with being led around by the nose by Mercury, an angel for whom he had nothing but disdain.

  He was annoyed that he couldn’t quite convince himself that there wasn’t something else, perhaps grudging respect, hiding out amongst his overwhelming disdain for Mercury. He had long thought of Mercury as sort of a rabid dog: unpredictable and potentially dangerous, to be sure, but relatively easy to contain. Somehow, though, Mercury had been able to remain one step ahead of the various plotters. This, too, annoyed him.

  He was further annoyed that Mercury, for whom he was on the verge of admitting he might have a very slight amount of grudging respect along with truckloads of disdain, hadn’t been able to come up with anything better than “I’ll make a diversion, and you rescue the hostages.”

  Finally, he was annoyed that Mercury had instructed him to approach from the east just as the sun was setting, making it nearly impossible for him to see. Even with his angelic vision, he found himself squinting in an effort to distinguish trees from guards. What was Mercury thinking?

  One thing was certain: Izbazel had no intention of rescuing anybody. If he actually managed to get inside the cottage, he was going to kill Karl with his bare hands. Probably that meddler Christine, too. Then he would ditch Mercury and make a beeline back to the Infernal Plane, where he would inform Lucifer that he had completed his mission. Mercury, having failed to deliver the Antichrist, would then be fair game. He relished the thought of Lucifer turning Mercury into a newt. He imagined Mercury in the form of a sort of winged oyster, flapping around helplessly.

  He crept closer to the cottage.

  It was to Izbazel’s credit that when he was about two hundred yards from the cottage, it occurred to him that maybe Mercury had anticipated what Izbazel was planning to do with Karl. But that made no sense. Why would Mercury want Karl dead?

  Izbazel, his eyes on a pair of guards about halfway between him and the cottage, tip-toed to the next large tree.

  A new burst of annoyance washed over him as he recalled how Mercury had denigrated his diabolical competency. What had he said? That Izbazel should be a “middle school librarian.” Whatever that meant. Well, we’ll see what he thinks when he’s been outsmarted by me. How could have been so careless as to put me in charge of the rescue?

  Hang on, he thought. How could he have been so careless? He had to have known. So... Mercury wants Karl and Christin
e dead? That didn’t seem right.

  The guards were now facing away from him, so Izbazel seized his opportunity to move forward another twenty feet.

  He wondered how long it would be before Mercury’s diversion started. He was hoping for an explosion. An explosion would be really neat. But how would Mercury cause an explosion?

  It dawned on Izbazel that Mercury wasn’t going to be able to cause an explosion. In fact, Izbazel didn’t see how he was going to create a diversion of any kind. Which meant that he had sent Izbazel on a fool’s errand. He had planned on Izbazel to fail. But why?

  Izbazel noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. What the hell? Another guard to his right? And still another coming out of hiding on his left. They had seen him coming. They were trying to encircle him!

  Izbazel ran. Automatic weapon fire rang out in the woods.

  Forget this! he thought. Nothing to do now but get the hell out. They had failed.

  He took to the air, reaching out to the interplanar energy channels to envelope himself in a protective bubble of supernatural power. In the back of his mind he hoped he could trust Mercury’s assurances that Heaven wouldn’t interfere. The way he was pulling in interplanar energy, he’d be a sitting duck if Heaven decided this was a good time to take out a renegade cherub.

  Hundreds of bullets whizzed passed him, miraculously altering their trajectories at the last split-second. The bullets didn’t bother him nearly as much as the possibility of being hit with a Class Five pillar of fire at any moment.

  Now that would be a diversion, he thought to himself as he soared toward the treetops. But Mercury had promised there would be no unwanted interference from Heaven. It occurred to him, though, that under the circumstances he and Mercury might disagree on the definition of “unwanted.” Maybe, it further occurred to him, Izbazel being incinerated in a Class Five was precisely what Mercury wanted. In fact, maybe Mercury had offered Izbazel to Heaven in exchange for providing a diversion so that Mercury could free Christine and Karl. All Uzziel would need to pinpoint his location would be for Izbazel to draw attention to himself by manipulating interplanar energy – which is exactly what Mercury had told him to do to avoid being shot.

  Middle school librarian indeed, he thought to himself. I’m starting to get the hang of this sort of intrigue.

  For once, he was right.

  FORTY-ONE

  “What the hell?” exclaimed Katie Midford, also known as Tiamat, the Whore of Babylon.

  “Not hell,” said Christine. “Heaven.”

  The cottage shook from the blast. They had to shield their eyes from the blinding light pouring in through the windows.

  “This must be what it’s like to be inside a Thomas Kinkade painting,” said Christine.

  “What’s going on?” said Karl, terrified.

  “That, if I’m not mistaken,” said Christine, “was a Class Five pillar of fire. Someone in Heaven has evidently taken an interest in our host’s little hideaway.”

  “We need to get out of here,” said Gamaliel. “If Heaven knows about this place, we don’t stand a chance here.”

  “They have no right!” hissed Tiamat. “They don’t know what they are doing! If I fail, Lucifer’s plan will proceed! He’ll make this whole plane into a wasteland!”

  Christine, having a sudden notion, said, “Why don’t you turn yourselves in? If you spill the beans on what Lucifer is planning, I’m sure they’ll go easy on you.”

  “Silence!” snapped Tiamat. “We’re not finished yet. Let’s get out of here.”

  Gamaliel led them to the Ford Explorer parked behind the cottage. Two other cherubim, who had been standing guard outside, ushered the captives to the vehicle.

  “I call shotgun!” yelled Karl, and one of the guards smacked him in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle. Karl fell forward, dazed. He and Christine were shoved into the middle seat.

  “Careful!” warned Gamaliel. “We need him alive.” He had to admit that unconscious was, however, an improvement.

  The Explorer peeled out of the dirt driveway and headed down the bumpy track that served as a road. Behind them, the towering redwoods were engulfed in flame.

  “Heads up,” said Gamaliel. “We’re leaving the Mundanity Enhancement Field. Ah, hell, now what?”

  A tall, lean figure was standing in the middle of the makeshift road. He was holding an assault rifle.

  “Mercury!” growled Gamaliel, gunning the engine.

  “Wait!” yelled Tiamat as the Explorer bounced crazily along the bumpy ground. “He’s going to –”

  Mercury steadied his aim at the vehicle, trying to follow its erratic movements. The gun was set to manual fire, because he couldn’t risk a stray bullet hitting Karl or Christine. He had only one chance. He couldn’t rely on being able to manipulate interplanar energy to take out the Explorer, standing so close to the Mundanity Enhancement Field. He hoped he had better aim with an M4 assault rifle than he did with a ping pong paddle. Or snowball. He was not, now that he thought about it, terribly good with projectiles in general.

  When the vehicle was only a few yards away, he fired.

  The Explorer’s left front tire exploded just as it landed in a particularly deep recess in the track. The vehicle veered to the left, its right tires leaving the ground. Mercury, still immobile, was showered with dirt as the tires whizzed past, inches from his face. With the interference the M.E.F. was causing, he needed all of his concentration to harness the small amount of interplanar energy that was available.

  The Explorer veered off the track and rolled into the ravine below. The vehicle turned over and over, countless times, shedding pieces of itself as it went, finally coming to an abrupt stop against a large redwood.

  Mercury clambered down the ravine, his attention still on the two mortals ensconced in the wreckage. He could only hope that he had been able to channel enough supernatural energy to keep them from being killed. Jumping atop the overturned vehicle, he ripped the passenger door off its hinges. Inside he found four dazed demons and two miraculously unscathed mortals.

  He helped Christine and Karl out of the Explorer. “Get to the road,” he said. “I’ll take care of these guys.”

  While Christine and Karl made their way up the ravine, Mercury stood a few yards from the downed Explorer, waiting for the demons to emerge. Slowly they began to pull themselves out of the wreckage. As they did, Mercury fired at them repeatedly with the assault rifle.

  Still too dazed and too close to the Mundanity Enhancement Field to force the bullets to miraculously miss them, the demons took round after round in the chest, howling in pain and staggering backwards. Eventually, though, Mercury ran out of bullets, and still the demons came at him. He pulled a Bowie knife that he had pilfered from the same unlucky guard who had provided the rifle.

  “Seize the Antichrist!” barked Tiamat to her minions. “I’ll deal with this one.”

  Gamaliel and the other two demons set off after Karl and Christine, who had just reached the track at the top of the ravine. It was getting dark, and smoke from the growing blaze on the other side of the cottage was making it difficult for them to breathe.

  Tiamat turned to Mercury.

  “You’re causing me a fair amount of trouble,” she said, trying to retain a semblance of calm.

  “Nothing personal,” said Mercury, still holding the knife pointed at Tiamat. “I have a contract to deliver the Antichrist to Lucifer.”

  “You? Working for Lucifer?” said Tiamat. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “I’m more of a free agent,” explained Mercury.

  “That sounds more like it,” she said. “Always looking out for yourself.”

  Mercury shrugged. “So,” he said, “How have you been? Still building ziggurats?”

  Tiamat shook her head dismissively. “I had some problems with outsourcing. Language barriers, you know. These days I’m dabbling in adolescent fiction.”

  “So I hear,” said Mercury. �
��I’ve read some of your work. Not bad. I didn’t realize you were a writer.”

  “It’s not Shakespeare,” admitted Tiamat. “But it pays the bills. Anyway, I can’t let you have Karl.”

  “Well,” said Mercury, “I can’t let you keep him. So there you go.”

  The crackle of the forest fire was getting louder. A breeze was picking up, pushing the blaze their way.

  “I don’t think you have much of a choice,” she said, motioning toward Christine and Karl, who were being escorted back down the ravine by Gamaliel and her other two minions. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned.”

  “Won’t be the first time,” said Mercury.

  Tiamat smiled. “Whatever happened between us?” she asked him.

  Mercury looked pensively at her. “Well,” he said, “there was the status difference. Cherub-seraph romances rarely work.”

  “True,” she said. “That was a problem.”

  “Also,” Mercury went on, “there was that whole ‘Whore of Babylon’ thing. If I had to pinpoint a moment when our relationship went sour, I think I’d have to go with the first time I heard you referred to as ‘The Whore of Babylon.’ I mean, that makes an impression on a guy, you know? There were a lot of whores in Babylon.”

  “Oh come on, Mercury. You’re not still angry about that. It was the ninth century B.C. It was a different time.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” said Mercury. “But the whore of Babylon? That’s impressive. That’s like being the hippie at Woodstock. Or the drunk at Caligula’s place.”

  Karl and Christine stumbled toward them, prodded by the butts of the demons’ rifles.

  “Watch it,” Karl snapped. He was clearly getting tired of being pushed, pulled and prodded around.

  “Can’t we put the past behind us?” said Tiamat. “As you say, this isn’t personal. I have some business with Karl here. I don’t know how you’re involved in all this exactly, but I can assure you that Karl is worth more to me than he is to you. If you’re afraid of retribution from Lucifer, join my crew. I’ll protect you. And you’ll be in good company. I expect a lot of defections from Lucifer over the next few days.”