Brothers in Stone (Stone Soldiers #2)

by Martin, C. E.

  Kenslir punched again, and broke more pieces off—larger pieces. Josie noticed his fist was cut in multiple places, but already healing up even as he punched again.

  After six more blows, Kenslir had broken away several large portions of the wall, widening the opening considerably.

  “How’s your hand?” Josie asked, still holding Keegan’s jacket and blouse.

  Kenslir held his hand up. It was mangled, the knuckles dripping blood, the skin already turning gray. In just a few seconds the flesh closed up and was fully regenerated.

  Kenslir stepped up to the opening and was able to step through. He stepped back through into the cavern and took Keegan’s blouse and jacket back from Josie.

  “Get dressed,” he said handing the clothes back to the FBI agent.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The ravine, what was left of it, was a site of major activity now. A least a half dozen helicopters were on the ground, with Air Force Pararescue combing the debris field of boulders and rocks dislodged by the Apache helicopters’ bombardment. A C-130 had landed on the plateau near the ravine.

  Josie, Keegan, Victor and Kenslir waited beside a parked Blackhawk, quietly drinking water and eating MREs. Nearby, six blankets covered the mangled remains of Keegan’s capture team.

  An Air Force Sergeant came up to Kenslir, saluting. “Sir, we’ve located two bodies.”

  Kenslir returned the salute. “Intact? Dead?”

  “Yes, sir, but you should know... they’re a little unusual.”

  “I know, they’re giants. Just get them on the plane.”

  The Sergeant saluted again. “Yes, sir.”

  “And Sergeant—bind them.”

  “Sir?”

  “Five-fifty cord, zip ties, chains, whatever you’ve got. But I want their hands, feet, legs—everything tied up good.”

  The Sergeant looked puzzled, but shook his head up and down. “Yes, sir.”

  “Finally,” Keegan said, standing up. She was a mess. Her suit dusty and dirty from the ordeal underground, her short blonde hair tangled and matted, and her makeup smudged from sweating. “Case closed.”

  “Not so fast, Agent,” Kenslir said. “You and Mr. Hornbeck are coming with us.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Military operation, military debriefing.”

  “Now just hold on, Colonel,” Keegan protested. “I have to report back to my superiors.”

  “So call them and report in, but as of now, you’re in my custody.”

  Keegan started to say something else, but Kenslir was walking over to another helicopter to tell their pilot it was time to go.

  ***

  Master Sergeant James Alanis had seen a lot of strange things loaded on his plane before. The C-130 was part of a special operations detachment that recovered crash site pieces. Normally classified aircraft and drones—especially experimental ones. But this load was the strangest yet.

  Alanis remembered his Sunday school classes, remembered the story of David and Goliath. He had always assumed Goliath was a unique monster.

  Now he had two of them laying on the deck of his plane.

  The two giants, one roughly eight feet tall, the other slightly taller, were wrapped in tie down straps, cargo net, zip ties and chains. And some tarps to cover up their groins. Even if they’d been alive, Alanis doubted they could break free. Alanis thought it was really strange to so severely tie up corpses.

  Not as weird as the giants themselves, though. They had six fingers and six toes on their hands and feet. The slightly taller one had a long red beard and long red hair. The other one was bald. Both had their mouths open and Alanis could make out a double row of teeth in their huge heads.

  Even though he was certain they were dead, Alanis shuddered. He’d rather be transporting aliens.

  Alanis made a last check of the straps holding the giants down, noting their wounds—of which there were many—were still dripping blood. He’d have to take a pressure washer to the cargo deck later.

  Satisfied his passengers weren’t going anywhere, Alanis gave the thumbs up and notified the flight deck they were clear for takeoff. Then he took his seat, looking at each of the dozen Special Ops Airmen also seated in the back of the plane. They all appeared as unnerved by the giants as Alanis.

  ***

  Even though Pam Keegan didn’t like being what was effectively a military prisoner, she did have to admit that Colonel Kenslir traveled in style. The civilian-marked Boeing 707 she and Victor had boarded at Luke Air Force Base was outfitted like a corporate luxury jet. It even had several private bunkrooms, showers and plenty of luxurious leather seats.

  Keegan had grudgingly taken up the offer of a shower and a fresh set of clothes shortly after takeoff, and now was wearing a set of Army sweats, just like Victor. Her heels were ruined, but luckily a pair of tennis shoes had been found on the plane that were only a little too large for her. She tried not to think about who might have worn them before her.

  Colonel Kenslir and his subordinate, Josie Winters, were wearing fresh clothes also—clean khaki pants and polo shirts. They had apparently planned ahead for a long mission.

  Keegan had also taken Kenslir up on his offer to call her superiors. They had advised the FBI agent that she was indeed to remain in military custody until notified otherwise. She was to obey any order the Colonel gave her, or she’d be charged with a violation of the Espionage Act.

  Keegan had complied, even checking her handgun into a small lockbox on the plane. She noticed Kenslir and Winters were allowed to retain their own handguns.

  Almost back to Miami, Keegan, Victor, Kenslir and Winters all sat in the main passenger compartment, eating in-flight meals that were surprisingly good. Their chairs were swiveled around so the four could face each other.

  “So what now, Colonel?” Victor asked between bites.

  “We’re taking you back to our headquarters for a debriefing, then we’ll have you assist in examining the bodies.”

  “Why do you need a postcog for that?” Keegan asked.

  “He can tell us a little bit more about the origins of these creatures,” Kenslir responded. “We have to make certain there aren’t any more of them out there, running around, or waiting to be set free.”

  “I seriously doubt that’s a possibility,” Keegan said, rolling her eyes and picking up her coffee. She was about to sip it when she noticed it was frozen solid.

  Keegan held the mug upside down and the frozen plug of coffee dropped out, onto the floor of the plane. “Is that normal around here?”

  Kenslir looked over at Josie. She was glaring at Keegan, but quickly dropped her gaze and went back to eating.

  “Ms. Winters?” Kenslir asked. “Did you do that?”

  “I don’t know,” Josie said, rolling her shoulders. “Maybe.”

  Keegan knew she didn’t like Winters, now it was apparent the feeling was mutual. Keegan got up from her seat and moved to the rear of the twenty-seat cabin to get more coffee from the kitchenette.

  “Can you still sense anything from the giant?” Kenslir asked Josie.

  “No. I don’t feel anything.”

  “That could be because they’re dead,” Victor suggested.

  “Or because her power has mutated,” Kenslir said. He held up his hand. “Try and freeze my hand.”

  Josie gave Kenslir a strange look. “I don’t have any control over it. It’s just been happening on its own.”

  “Like my coffee?” Keegan said, sitting back down with a fresh cup.

  Josie glared at Keegan.

  “C’mon, try,” Kenslir said. “Just focus on my hand.”

  Josie stared at Kenslir’s hand. She squinted. She held her breath. She breathed harder. Nothing was happening.

  “What were you thinking when you zapped my coffee?” Keegan said mockingly.

  “That you’re a bitch,” Josie answered honestly.

  Victor turned red, embarrassed to be in the middle of the conversation. He guessed this mus
t be what it was like for children when their parents argued. He was glad the nuns that raised him had never argued.

  “Okay, try that,” Kenslir said. “Be mad at my hand.”

  “That’s silly.”

  “Try it and see.”

  Josie concentrated. She glared again, focusing on Kenslir’s hand. It began to glow green.

  Keegan stopped sipping her coffee. “I thought she could freeze things.”

  Kenslir held his other hand up, putting a finger to his lips for Keegan to be quiet.

  Josie kept concentrating. Kenslir’s hand was glowing brighter now. Instead of ethereal, barely-visible green light, it was glowing brightly, almost like a road flare.

  Josie gasped, exhaling and sitting back in her seat. The green glow around Kenslir’s hand faded.

  “Well, that’ll come in real handy when you need to read at night,” Keegan said, sipping her coffee again.

  “The green is a side effect,” Kenslir said. “My natural ability is to cancel out abilities. If she’d been doing that to your hand, we’d be able to crack it like glass right now.”

  “Cancel abilities? I thought you were really strong and a quick healer.”

  “Let’s call those enhancements.”

  “Enhancements? Sounds classified,” Keegan said. “Should you really be telling me all that?”

  “That depends.”

  “Oh, on what?”

  “On whether or not I decide to let you keep your memory of the past forty eight hours.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The C-130 carrying the two dead giants was now over the Gulf of Mexico. They had been told that since they were carrying dangerous materials, they would need to divert, so they would pass over as little civilian territory as possible. And there was next to no civilians in the middle of the Gulf.

  The Special Ops troopers were all eating their MREs, talking quietly amongst themselves in the noisy interior of the C-130. Master Sergeant Alanis was eating as well, sitting by himself at his station. Until he glanced over at the two dead giants for possibly the hundredth time since take off.

  Alanis’ mouth hung open and a bite of lukewarm Spanish pilaf dropped out onto his uniform.

  The bald giant’s body was gone. In its place was a small, brown dog. The dog squirmed under the many straps and belts and finally freed itself. Alanis realized it wasn’t a dog, but a coyote.

  How did a coyote get on board? Alanis’ brain refused to consider the idea the giant could have turned into the coyote.

  Several of the Special Ops team had stopped eating now as well. They were also watching the coyote.

  The animal stepped down off the pallet it had been tied to. It then sat back on its haunches, mouth open, panting lightly. Its ears were up, and it tilted its head to one side as it regarded Alanis. It looked like it was smiling. Alanis had seen dogs do that before.

  The coyote raised one paw, then the other. Then its body began to stretch. In just seconds, the Coyote’s neck and torso stretched as its limbs swelled—the hair disappearing, replaced by pale flesh. Where there had just a moment before been a friendly-looking coyote, there now stood a naked man with brown hair.

  The Special Ops team all dropped their lunches and grabbed at their guns. Ketzkahtel, now wearing the body of Echo once more, held up his hand for them to stop. Simultaneously, he reached out with his mind, seizing control of the men watching him.

  Master Sergeant Alanis and the entire team of Special Ops Airmen sat up suddenly, convulsing in their seats as their eyes rolled up in their heads. They twitched and spasmed for only a few seconds then all slumped over, unconscious.

  Echo walked over to the loadmaster in his seat and pushed his head back, examining the face. Carefully, he reached down and unzipped the Master Sergeant’s flight suit to his waist. The telepath then pulled the Master Sergeant’s shirt up, exposing his stomach and chest.

  Echo rammed his hand into the loadmaster’s chest, just below his sternum. Fingers flat, knifelike, cleaved skin and muscle. Echo reached up into the Master Sergeant’s chest and felt his beating heart. He wrapped his hand around the heart and pulled it out in one swift motion.

  Blood poured from the wound on the Master Sergeant’s chest as Echo took a bite of his heart. Chewing the morsel slowly, the shapeshifter turned and looked at all the sleeping Special Ops Airmen.

  ***

  When the Boeing 707 finally landed at Homestead Air Force Base, night had fallen on Miami. The plane taxied toward the main hangars, instead of the cluster of hangars in the southeast corner of the base and the underground tunnel to Argon Tower.

  A truck rolled a boarding ladder up to the plane and Josie, Kenslir, Keegan and Victor disembarked. Keegan and Victor carried their belongings in green duffel bags, while Kenslir and Josie had their overnight bags.

  An SUV was waiting for the four. A man in a black suit saluted when Kenslir approached.

  “You can sit up front,” Kenslir said, motioning for Josie to get in. Kenslir then held the door open for Victor and Keegan. Keegan had her charge go first, putting her in the middle, next to Kenslir when he got in. The black suited man that had greeted Kenslir sat up front, behind the wheel.

  The SUV drove off the airfield, but instead of heading for the Detachment’s hangars, and the underground tunnel, it drove through the base.

  “Where are we going?” Josie asked.

  “The Tower,” Kenslir said. “We’re just taking the scenic route.”

  The SUV departed the base through a gate, heading east. They came to a simple two-lane road and turned right, heading south toward Argon Tower.

  “Forget something at the office?” Keegan asked as they neared the black glass office building.

  ***

  On an oil platform off the coast of Louisiana, Guy Hicks was sweating profusely. The roughneck had been working all day, and was now leaning against a railing, looking out over the ocean. The breeze felt good on his face, and he wondered how long this momentary break was going to last.

  A flapping noise to his right caught Guy’s attention. It sounded like sheets flapping, or maybe a blanket. He looked over and his jaw dropped open. It was not bedding flapping in the wind.

  A huge red dragon was flying straight for the oil platform. It had four legs, two huge wings and a long neck with a horse-sized head. Red scales glinted in the fading light.

  And a man was riding on its back.

  The dragon landed on the helipad Guy was resting on, its back to him. All around the platform men were screaming and yelling, calling others to come out and see.

  The man on the dragon’s back was dressed in olive drab—an Air Force flight suit, Guy realized. He was shocked. The Air Force had dragons now?

  The rider slid off the dragon and turned to face Guy. He was vaguely Hispanic looking, of average height. His name tag identified him as ALANIS. Guy saw this because the rider was walking toward him.

  “Hey, Mist-“ Guy started to say. He was unable to finish, because the rider abruptly rammed a hand into his chest.

  The hand ripped through fabric and muscle and shattered ribs. Fingers wrapped around Guy’s heart and then, just as quickly as the stranger had punched into his chest, he pulled Guy’s heart out. Guy fell to the deck, killed instantly.

  As the stranger raised the heart to his mouth, he turned around. His body swelled and bulged, tearing and stretching at the thin flight suit. Alanis quickly transformed into the towering nine-foot tall giant, Tezcahtlip.

  The dragon too changed, shrinking down to the size of a slender, average-height, average-looking man with brown hair.

  Tezcahtlip took large bites from the warm heart in his six-fingered hand. As he chewed, blood dribbled from his mouth into his red beard and down onto the shredded flight suit that barely clung to his huge body.

  Tezcahtlip concentrated and thick, red fur began to cover his body.

  “Cover yourself, brother,” Tezcahtlip said to Ketzkahtel.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREEr />
  Kenslir’s face was grim as he read the report. He laid it down on the large marble table of the briefing room, and looked around at his captive audience.

  Agent Keegan was still in her sweats, sipping an ice tea. Victor was seated beside her, looking down at his hands, nervous in the large briefing room. Josie was seated beside Victor, calmly looking across at Kenslir.

  “We have a problem,” Kenslir finally said. “The C-130 has gone down at sea.”

  “So the giants are fish food now?” Keegan asked before taking another long drink.

  “No, they aren’t on board anymore. They’ve attacked an oil rig off the coast of Louisiana.”

  “What?!” Josie was horrified. How could the giants still be alive? She’d seen their bodies, crushed and battered by the fallen rocks and shrapnel from the missiles launched by the two Army helicopters.

  “I suspect it’s my fault,” Kenslir said. “I was shooting them with hollow-core bullets, filled with poisons.”

  “Poison bullets,” Keegan said. “What a great idea.”

  “There should have been enough poison in their systems to kill a herd of elephants. Instead, it may have just put them in a state of suspended animation.”

  Josie immediately felt bad for the Colonel. Capturing the giants had been her idea.

  “What now?” Victor asked, looking up.

  “We’ll regroup. Gather our forces, then go hunting again.”

  “How?” Josie asked. “I can’t track them anymore.”

  “Your body just metabolized the serum. When we’re ready, we can re-inject you.”

  “Metabolized?” Josie suddenly had the mental image of digesting something. “What did you inject me with again?”

  “Spinal fluid and blood plasma from the giant corpse we have.”

  “Giant corpse? You have a giant corpse?” Keegan didn’t understand. They didn’t recover the corpses until after the fight in the cavern. “How many of these things are there?”

  Josie could care less about Keegan’s sudden concerns. “Spinal fluid?”