The private accompanying him fist pumped the air. “You got him.”
“Don’t open the victory vodka yet.” Telegrin motioned with his head across Red Square.
Upon seeing the death of its mate, the other dragon roared and sprinted from the vrata, heading straight for Telegrin’s position on top of GUM.
***
Jason had called Neal and Ian to the entrance to the mausoleum, wanting them to be ready to dash for the portal with him once the area was clear. Grachov stood by the doors, listening to the battle rage outside. When he heard the thunderous stomps of the dragon rushing across the square, the lieutenant ordered, “Let’s go.”
Grachov unbolted the doors and pulled on the handles. They would not budge. He yanked again. The doors rattled but would not move.
“Shit!” said Grachov.
“Let me help.” Reinhard pushed his way to the front and grabbed the handle of the door on the right. Grachov took the one on the left. Both men pulled until the doors gave way. A chunk of red marble from the destroyed reviewing stand that had been leaning against the doors rolled into the entranceway. The German stepped back and waved on the others. “Schnell!”
Jason and Grachov emerged onto the black marble foundation. They stopped short upon hearing the blood-curdling death knell of the dragon in front of GUM. As its mate abandoned the portal and rushed across Red Square, it noticed the movement of the two men in its peripheral vision. Whipping to its right, the dragon charged the mausoleum, stopping and crouching when fifty feet distant. The ridges along its chest and spine glowed.
“Back inside!” Grachov shoved Jason through the entranceway. He spun around, slammed shut the door on the right, and tried to do the same with the one on the left. The chunk of marble blocked it. He tried using the door to push the marble, but the stone was too heavy.
The dragon exhaled a cloud of lime green smoke tinted with thousands of crystals.
Reinhard rushed forward and placed his hands on the marble. He made eye contact with Jason. “Don’t let this be in vain.”
The cloud drifted toward the mausoleum.
Reinhard summoned every ounce of strength and pushed. The chunk of marble moved a few inches, and then some more. Reinhard continued shoving. After a few seconds, it slid across the doorway and out onto the granite base.
The cloud reached the mausoleum.
Reinhard ducked behind the chunk of marble, a futile gesture.
Grachov slammed the door and secured the bolt.
The first crystal touched the remains of the reviewing stand and burst into a tiny flame, igniting the lime green gas. A fireball washed over the mausoleum, incinerating Reinhard and leaving behind a charred skeleton and ash.
***
Melnikov watched as the fireball engulf Lenin’s Tomb. His heart sank. They had failed again. Their last chance to end this madness had been wasted. He wanted to punch the wall in anger, yet he did not have time. He needed to salvage what remained of his platoon.
The captain slapped the shoulder of the corporal beside him to get his attention. “Spread the word. We fall back on my command. Send someone to get Telegrin.”
***
Inside the mausoleum’s lobby, everyone instinctively flinched as the fireball washed over the exterior of the structure. It roared like a furnace, only they were on the inside. The temperature spiked, but nothing that would be fatal. After a few seconds, everything settled back to normal.
“Come on,” said Grachov as he stepped back to the doors.
Jason shook his head. “That thing will cut us down before we make it fifty feet.”
“It takes up to two minutes for a dragon to refill its gas sack.” Grachov slid off his tunic and wrapped it around his hand. “We have that much time to get to the vrata.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Haneef moved up alongside Jason. “I’ll take the rest of the team and distract it. You and the Purgatoriati take care of the portal.”
“Thanks.”
“May Allah be with you.”
Jason patted his friend on the shoulder. “Let’s hope he’s with all of us.”
“Ready?” asked Grachov.
Haneef clasped the minigun in front of his chest. “Yes.”
When Grachov opened the door, Haneef raced out and paused twenty feet from the mausoleum. Antoine and Gaston took up positions on either side, providing covering fire. Haneef squeezed the trigger. The minigun whirred to life and spat out a stream of 7.62mm bullets into the dragon’s face. The monster arched its head and roared, presenting its back to Haneef and letting the rounds bounce harmlessly off its plated back. The rest of the team took advantage of the distraction. Jeanette led Sook-kyoung and Vicky out of the mausoleum and rushed down Red Square to take up position halfway between Lenin’s Tomb and Savior Tower. Slava and Werner followed and then cut into the square, stopping two hundred feet behind and to the right of the women. When the others were in place, Haneef stopped firing and fell back, running sideways to keep an eye on the dragon.
***
Melnikov spotted Jason’s people rushing out of Lenin’s Tomb. He felt a tinge of optimism that they might pull this off, with an emphasis on the word might.
“Captain, are we still going to fall back?” asked a private beside him.
“No. Maintain fire on demony. We have to keep it from heading back to vrata.”
***
Telegrin attempted to line up another eye shot on the dragon, with no success. The creature moved around too much. He had fired two rounds, one which missed and the other which struck the dragon’s temple, at this range having as little effect as small arms fire. Don’t get excited, he admonished himself. Wait for it. The shot will come.
***
When the barrage of bullets ceased, the dragon spun around. It recognized Haneef as the tiny creature that had caused it so much pain. The behemoth charged, hoping to trample him.
Jeanette’s and Slava’s squads caught it in a cross fire. The dragon curled into a ball, protecting its head with its tail until the humans emptied their magazines. As they reloaded, the dragon darted toward Jeanette’s squad. None of the women noticed it stop twenty feet from them, whirl around, and whip its tail.
***
“It’s clear,” said Grachov as he exited the mausoleum. Jason pushed past him and ran for the Hell Gate. Lucifer and Lilith stayed on either flank. Ian, Neal, and Grachov fell in behind. The Purgatoriati brought up the rear.
Several Nachzehrer stumbling toward GUM heard the commotion caused by the battle between the last dragon and Jason’s people and reversed direction. They numbered a few dozen and were spread thin. Jason wasn’t worried about them. His concern focused on the forty or so Nachzehrer crossing through the portal. Jason veered to his left toward a ten-foot high mound of skulls. As the others joined him, he took the backpack from Ian, undid the flap, and removed the antimatter device. Neal did the same with his.
“This is simple,” Jason explained to Grachov and the Purgatoriati. “All we have to do is toss one of these into the portal. If anything happens to me or Neal, one of you has to finish the job. Got it?”
The others nodded.
Jason rushed the Hell Gate. The Purgatoriati and the werehounds formed a circle around him. Ian and Grachov protected Neal. The few Nachzehrer in the way were dispatched by the Purgatoriati’s broadswords. They covered the distance to the portal in a few seconds.
One of the Golem from the other side emerged through the shimmering surface. Its right leg came through, planting itself firmly in Red Square, followed by the upper body. Jason broke to the right, gave the demon a wide berth, and stopped to the right of the portal. He lifted the device like a football and threw it toward the Hell Gate.
The Golem reached out and grabbed the device before it made contact with the surface.
***
Jeanette heard the swish of the dragon’s tale as it sliced through the air. She dropped to the pavement and rolled. Vicky reloaded h
er FAMAS and didn’t see the impending threat. Luckily for her, Sook-kyoung did. She dove to the left and knocked Vicky to the ground as the deadly appendage swept by overhead, missing them by inches.
Jeanette came out of the roll into a kneeling position, ready to defend herself against the dragon. It no longer cared about her. It had focused its attention back on Haneef.
***
The dragon didn’t charge Haneef as it had before. This time it approached slowly and cautiously, studying him as a predator would its intended prey. It stopped one hundred feet from the three men. Haneef stood his ground, the minigun aimed and ready to fire.
“What are you waiting for?” Antoine asked.
“Trust me.”
The dragon lowered its head. The ridges along its chest and spine glowed.
Antoine aimed his FAMAS at the behemoth. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I.”
***
When the dragon paused and lowered its head, Telegrin centered his scope on its right eye and wrapped his finger around the trigger. He inhaled and held it.
A hand touched his shoulder, spoiling the shot. Telegrin lifted his head and yelled at the private beside him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“S-sorry, senior sergeant,” the soldier stammered through his fear. He pointed toward the portal. “I thought you should see that.”
A Golem had stepped through the vrata and caught the antimatter device in mid-throw.
“Yebat’,” Telegrin swore under his breath. “Private, crouch down and give me your shoulder.”
The soldier did as ordered. Telegrin placed the barrel of the OSV-96 on the private’s shoulder and centered the scope on the middle of the Golem’s face.
***
Slava watched as the dragon prepared to breathe a cloud of smoke on his friend. He realized what Haneef had planned. Slava dropped prone and yelled for Werner to take cover.
***
The dragon exhaled a cloud of lime green smoke. Haneef waited for it to expand to thirty feet before squeezing the trigger of his minigun. The weapon whirred to life. The first rounds that struck the cloud ignited the crystals. The cloud erupted into a fireball that flowed back into the dragon’s mouth, down its throat, and into the sack where the remainder of the vapor formed. The sack detonated, blowing apart the behemoth’s neck and upper abdomen. Chunks of dragon plopped down all around Red Square.
***
Telegrin pulled the trigger. Through the scope, he saw the 108mm round strike the skull at the top of the Golem’s nose-like ridge.
***
The Golem was pushing its massive hands together, trying to crush the antimatter device, when the 108mm round struck its head. The bullet tore through several of its brains, momentarily stunning the demon. Jason turned to Neal. Only then did he realize that a dozen Nachzehrer had approached to within ten feet of his squad.
“Quick, give me your device.”
“There’s no time for that,” said Father Belsario. “Jonah, you’re with me. The rest of you protect Jason.”
Jason unslung his crossbow and fired an arrow between the eyes of the nearest Nachzehrer; it dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Beside him, Grachov released a three-round burst into the head of another Nachzehrer while Lucifer and Lilith ripped apart two more. Sasha, Luther, and Matthew surrounded Neal, protecting the last device. The latter lobbed off heads or cleaved away at limbs. Sasha stabbed them in the forehead with her dagger, holding them in place while she used her saber to behead them.
Father Belsario and Jonah charged the Golem, slashing apart any Nachzehrer that got in their way. The Golem resumed its movement as its other brains compensated for those destroyed by the bullet. Another 108mm round thudded into its head inches from the first entry wound, rupturing another dozen brains and stunning it again. Jonah took advantage of the opportunity. Surging ahead through the path cleared by Father Belsario, he launched himself off the ground, landing on the Golem’s chest and driving his broadsword into its hearts. The force of the action knocked both human and demon backward through the portal, each screaming in agony as the shimmering surface ripped apart their internal structure. The last sections of the Golem to fall back through the portal were its hands, which still clutched the device. The outer casing disintegrated on impact, releasing the antimatter inside.
A blinding flash of light swept across Red Square accompanied by a thunderous roar. Flames engulfed the portal. The Hell Gate burned intensely for a few moments, consuming itself in the conflagration until it collapsed upon itself and exploded. The shock wave from the detonation expanded outward, knocking down everything within a five-hundred-foot radius and blasting away the mound of skulls. Every Hell Spawn dropped to the pavement. The Nachzehrer released blue eddies of light that swirled into the sky. Ten seconds later, a peaceful calm descended across the square.
Those nearest the blast were either stunned or knocked unconscious. Jason lay on his back, his mind reeling. He became aware of two large tongues lapping at his face. He opened his eyes to see Lucifer and Lilith staring down at him. Upon seeing that their master was all right, their tails wagged and their licking became more intense. Jason reached up and scratched the werehounds behind their ears, and then stood to survey the situation.
The portal had vanished. The only evidence of its existence was the hundreds of Nachzehrer corpses scattered throughout Red Square and the surrounding side streets, plus the carcasses of the two dragons. He knew that Hell Spawn would litter the area for hundreds of miles. Off to his right, Melnikov and his soldiers stood in front of GUM, hooting, and cheering. Around him, the others were getting to their feet and brushing themselves off, all except Father Belsario who crouched on one knee where the Hell Gate had once stood, his head bowed in prayer for their fallen comrade.
Sasha came up beside Jason and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. Those things pack quite a punch when they collapse. How are you?”
“I’m immortal, remember?” Sasha chuckled. “I can take a lot more punishment than you.”
“Jason!”
Jeanette ran toward him. She dropped her FAMAS and jumped into his arms. Jason hugged her tight. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. Neither noticed Sasha walk away or the sadness in her eyes.
Grachov stepped up beside Jason and tapped him on the shoulder. Jason placed Jeanette back on the ground. The lieutenant held out his hand. “Congratulations. You did it. You closed the vrata.”
“No,” answered Jason as he shook the hand. “We did it. My team would never have gotten this far without you and Melnikov.”
“Spasibo.” Grachov studied Red Square. “We definitely will have something to celebrate tonight.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Grachov had not been exaggerating about celebrating when they returned to the train yard. Within an hour of their arrival, General Zhirinovsky had organized a party for those who had gone to Moscow in commemoration of their closing the Hell Gate. The food was standard fare and far from extraordinary, and the atmosphere subdued, until the general produced three cases of vodka which lightened the mood. Everyone drank except for the Purgatoriati, who attended despite their obvious discomfort. At first, Jason had declined due to his age. Slava, who had been imbibing for nearly an hour, coaxed him into it by showing Jason how a good Cossack drank vodka—place your right hand on the hilt of your sword and your left around the shot glass, and then, after checking on the man to your left to make certain he had not drawn his weapon, down the contents in a single gulp. It took three attempts for Jason to get it right, by which point he was concerned only with having a good time. After what he and his team had gone through the past three months, they deserved it.
Jason studied those members of his team seated around the table. They had made out better this time. Closing the first portal in Paris had cost him thirteen people, including his beloved Sasha. Only two h
ad died in Moscow, losses that were still too high, but he could better deal with that number. Jason realized that they had lucked out in finding Zhirinovsky because the additional firepower provided by the Russians and their knowledge of the terrain had helped achieve victory. Although Jason would not admit it to the others, he knew that one or two more battles like the one they had encountered in Paris would have wiped out his team and prematurely ended their expedition.
Zhirinovsky got up from his chair and tapped his fork against a water glass several times, attracting everyone’s attention. Melnikov stood beside him. The general spoke in Russian, and then paused to allow Melnikov to translate.
“General wants to congratulate all of you on what you accomplished this afternoon. He calls it historic day, one that will be talked about in Mother Russia for generations. He admits that when he had first heard about what you did in Paris, he was skeptical. After today, he feels ashamed he ever doubted you. Anything you need to complete your mission is at your disposal.”
“Thank the general for me,” said Jason. “And tell him we’re honored to have Russia beside us.”
Melnikov relayed the message and waited for the general’s response.
“General also reminds us not to forget those who made ultimate sacrifice for mankind today, both among our own people and our new friends.”
Zhirinovsky lifted his shot glass. “Dlya spasiteley Rossii.”
“To saviors of Russia,” Melnikov translated.
Everyone raised their shot glasses.
“Dlya nashikh pavshikh tovarischey.”
“To our fallen comrades,” Melnikov translated.
Zhirinovsky said in English, “And to closing down the second vrata.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jason looked at the others on his team to see if he had misunderstood Zhirinovsky. The confusion and concern on their faces confirmed he had heard correctly.
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