DARK HEARTED (The COIL Series)

by Telbat, D. I.

  "Aren't you the woman who runs the prayer chain in Ohio? The Bible says that prayer gives us peace, even when we don't have an answer, because it shows our faith and trust in God when we do pray. You know this. I'm only reminding you. We have to stay focused even during the hard times."

  Eve withdrew to dab at her tears.

  "Everything you've said is right. I'm such a mess. I'm being so irrational."

  "Nobody's blaming you. You're going through so much, you poor thing.

  Look, here's my personal cell number. Most of the people in this office don't even know I'm the boss's wife, okay? So, keep this to yourself, but call me any time you want. If I hear anything, or you hear anything, we can talk about it, okay?

  "Believe me, I hear the same disclosures from Chloe, too. Sometimes, I don't even bother asking where my husband is or what he's doing. Usually, Chloe's as much in the dark as we are, though. But God knows what they're up to and He knows we're anxious and impatient wives.

  "It hurts, I know, Eve. Those men leave us and have no clue how much we miss and love them, but we must hang on. And when they do come home, we'll hold them so tight. Our guys just need our support so they can get back out there to risk their necks again to save many others. They're heroes, Eve, and God's shepherds through and through. So, we can't stand in their way. We can only stand behind them, and be thankful to be a part of their calling…because that's part of our calling, too."

  #######

  "You have no idea how many there were?" Xacsin asked. He was a green-eyed, over six-foot tall, bald giant. Arrogance poured from his abrasive, intimidating presence, but Snake tried to appear casual and submissive.

  They were in Xacsin Castle, in an office above the two-car garage. A fire burned in a small hearth behind Xacsin as he sat at his desk. Hannah, Xacsin's bloodthirsty wife, stood to Snake's left. The short blond was emboldened when with Xacsin, glaring and daring anyone who crossed her. She was the only woman in the fortress, and she flaunted her sexuality before all the men when Xacsin wasn't in her midst.

  "Originally, we were tracking one man," Snake explained, "but it seems he led us into an ambush. There might've been up to ten men. They were all around us, like the others said."

  "But, weren't you ahead of them?" Xacsin shook his head, his fierce eyes frowning at Snake. "What'd I hire you for?"

  "I was hired to keep intruders out of the castle. That's what I did. It's a given that you also want me to keep your prisoners downstairs in their cells. We were attacked last night. But what do you expect? You've told me nothing about the strength of our adversaries. How can I take charge when you don't keep me informed? You've asked me to fight an enemy while I'm blindfolded."

  "Watch your tongue, Snake." Xacsin tapped a finger on a pistol in his waistband. "You're not untouchable. I expect you to be ready for anyone and anything. Seeing as I have many enemies, I don't know who exactly might try to destroy us. "

  "It's not like we lost any men." Snake chuckled. "At first, I thought they were shooting paint balls at us. I don't think I've ever heard of any special ops using tranq pellets. Xacsin, I don't pry into your business, and I appreciate what you do here and what you've shown me, but you have a sophisticated enemy out there that will beat us again unless I can fight back."

  Xacsin studied Snake's face for a moment.

  "Just tell him," Hannah urged. "It's not like they're more superior, anyway. He needs to know."

  "Fine. We hate all Zionists, as you know—especially the active ones, always forcing their doctrine on us and the world—as if they were really chosen by God! I've communicated with real power, and those people definitely don't have it! The foolish blindly drink up their lies of Jesus, and the Jews have their agenda to pollute our race. All of this, we can fight; we are fighting. Downstairs, we have a revolutionary weapon against them. We can't be stopped. But we can be annoyed.

  "There's a Zionist organization, COIL, out of New York City, that I targeted with my superior over a year ago. Hannah and her sister, Helena, were part of it all. Helena was arrested in Egypt, caught by the COIL organization. But I have two of their employees downstairs." Xacsin's eyes gleamed. "Another one died. He was weak; it wasn't my fault. You met one of them the other night."

  "The big guy on the table?"

  "Yes. I didn't believe his people would find us so easily, but one of my prisoners escaped two weeks ago. The authorities got their hands on him in a town a few kilometers west of here. COIL would eventually come, I knew, but I don't know how they found out so quickly. They are the reason I brought you in when I heard you were on the market. I know about your past, your disdain for the Jews and Christians in England. Together, we can exterminate this filth! The authorities, I can handle. Your problem is COIL."

  "They're Zionists, you say, but not all Jews?"

  "No, they're mostly Christians who take their religious scribble literally," Xacsin growled. "Many Europeans, some Americans, but they employ Jews, which makes them all Zionist trash. These self-righteous, cross-loving fools are trying to take over the world, Snake. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one trying to stop them!"

  "I hate them as much as the next Aryan, Xacsin, you know that," Snake snarled, "but they seem rather harmless with their little pellet guns."

  "But they're not harmless!" Spittle foamed on Xacsin's lips. "Don't you dare say that! Their ideals are more dangerous than anything is. You don't know what the Christians can do! They even pray against everything I serve. Sometimes I wonder about you, Snake. I'm not even sure you're one of us—some of the things you've said since you've been here, questioning me..."

  "How can you doubt my loyalties?" Snake stood boldly, seemingly unfazed by Xacsin's remarks. "My past speaks for itself. I'm worth any two of your men together. And if we were killing these captives of yours instead of merely infecting them, I'd be your number one exterminator. But you have this secret plan, so I can hold myself back for now. Though I'm not a visionary like you, I sorely hate the Semitic pollutants. That's why I'm here.

  "So these COIL people were snooping about. Let them snoop. They won't get into the castle. Why? Because I won't let them. I'm still alive because I've never failed an employer. If I had failed, I would've taken myself out."

  "Those are bold words, Snake, but don't underestimate COIL, even with their non-lethal toy guns. I've raised up others to fight them in the past, and my men were defeated. The founder of COIL is named Corban Dowler. He is surely working behind the scenes to destroy our plans—if he only knew what they were."

  "We use live ammo, Xacsin. I'm not afraid of them."

  "Very well. Get us through the next three weeks without incident, and we'll all be victorious. After that, you can burn this place to the ground for all I care. Until then, I'll be busy arranging everything for the next phase for our…patients. I even have a fresh bus load arriving soon, so we may need to double our cell capacity."

  **~~~**

  Chapter Thirteen

  June was furious she'd been abandoned. Scooter had left the hotel to meet with Brauch to target practice. Memphis and Johnny were scouting for planes and choppers. Bruno and Rupert Mach were setting up surveillance around the castle—which she would be assigned to eventually, but not today. And Corban was nowhere to be found. Corban was responsible for her, the others had decided, so she was summarily left behind at the hotel with nothing to do. She knew she was missing out on some of the excitement and intrigue—target practice, hunting for equipment, and whatever else they were doing. That's what she'd come for; she had experience in all that stuff!

  Checking the little radio she'd been given, she found that no one on the team was using the open frequency at that moment.

  "Um, hello? Anyone there? Come in."

  Sure, she thought, rolling her eyes. She wanted to be involved, but she didn't have a clue how to get involved.

  "That you, June?" It was Corban.

  "Yes!" Gripping the radio tightly, she shook with anticipation. "Where are you? I
'm bored to death. The TV's in German, so I can't watch that. I can't go shopping since I have no Euros. What do you expect me to do?"

  "Everyone's gone?"

  "Of course. They all have assignments from you. Until the surveillance sites are set up, I don't have anything to do."

  "And you want an assignment right now?"

  "Well, yeah. I want to feel useful. Even when I was on assignment in Iraq, I didn't only carry a camera, you know."

  "I'll be there in a few minutes."

  Since she, like the others on the Rahab team, had brought nothing more than an overnight bag, June pulled on her only spare pair of clothes—jeans, a t-shirt, and a black and white blazer. Shaking out her bun, she tied her hair back in a tight ponytail.

  Now she understood that they would be in Germany for several weeks, though she didn't know why they only carried overnight effects. They weren't in the bush! Why not stock up on laundry? But she knew better than to complain. Even if it was uncomfortable, she wanted to fit in.

  This was the story she'd been waiting for—the inside scoop. For now, though, she was the outsider in more ways than one. June wasn't a real COIL operative, she was a single woman among mostly married men, and she wasn't even a Christian. The latter seemed to differentiate her more than any other reason. The men carried little Bibles, and on the plane, she'd spied them gathering in small groups to pray or discuss a passage of Scripture. All of this June planned to include in her report, but as of yet, she hadn't scribbled any notes on her field tablet. Once she got to know them better, and they really trusted her, then she'd find the dirt on them.

  Her room phone rang.

  "Hello?"

  "Come to my room," Corban instructed, then hung up.

  June wasn't flustered by his briefness. She was learning that Corban was a shaker and mover, nothing less. He wasn't unkind; he simply liked things to happen as efficiently as possible. After stowing her pack under her bed—ready to grab on the run—she walked down the hall to Corban's room. The door was open a crack and she slipped inside.

  "Close and lock the door," Corban said from the bathroom where the door was ajar.

  She obeyed then peeked into the bathroom. Bloody towels and a torn shirt lay strewn across the tile floor. His winter coat was also torn, soaked, and bloody. Corban sat halfway on the sink counter, twisting, trying to see a bullet wound across his ribs. Another wound above his temple had poured crimson, as well, but it was now dried and crusted. He looked up.

  "I made contact."

  "I see that." She pushed through the door. "Face the wall. All your moving around is only going to open the wound back up."

  As she applied a washcloth soaked in alcohol, he didn't flinch. June noticed both recent and old scars covering his back, chest, and shoulders. Wounds were nothing new to this man.

  "Why'd you go out alone?" she asked as she started on his head. "Doesn't seem rational."

  "That's how I operate…but you're right," Corban admitted. "I should've been more careful, but I had to check things out."

  "You went to the castle?"

  He didn't respond, so she didn't push. She finished cleaning his head and stepped back.

  "You move much and that's going to start bleeding again."

  "Sew me up, then wrap it up," he said, handing her a bag of pharmacy supplies. "I've got things to do."

  "People are going to see your head bandage. Won't that draw a little attention?"

  "I have a beret."

  She sewed up his rib area first—twenty stitches. The fact that he was perspiring heavily told her he was hurting, but he didn't move a muscle. After wrapping his torso, she then stitched and bandaged his head. Though it wasn't easy, she tried to keep the gauze high enough on his head to be out of sight when he wore his beret.

  "Now, I don’t mind patching you up, but I didn’t come along to play nurse. And I didn’t volunteer to come with you guys to sit in a hotel for a month, either."

  "Actually, I'm thinking you should return to the States." He allowed her to help him into a clean shirt. "Maybe catch us on a calmer mission. It's going to get hairy."

  "From all the scars on your body, I'd say you don't have missions that aren't hairy. All you deal with are the most serious of circumstances. Let me stay. I can handle myself. You have to trust me, let me get involved."

  Cleaning up the bathroom, she tossed the towels in the tub to soak. Corban sat on his bed and keyed into his laptop. Using a fax-scan-printer attachment, he printed out a form and handed it to her to read.

  Like everything he seemed to do, it was brief. June signed the disclaimer without much reflection, agreeing to not hold COIL or its representatives accountable in any way for any number of injuries she might receive by her voluntary inclusion and investigation into COIL's Rahab Operation. Chloe had made her sign a general disclaimer before leaving the States, but this one was more serious.

  Corban faxed the signed form back to Chloe, then printed out several pages of intel sent from a bulletin board system in England. He didn't object to June as she peered over his shoulder, but he moved too quickly through browser windows for her to catch much of anything. One thing she did realize was that there was information pouring in from all over Europe and the States about Xacsin McLeery and his alleged service for someone named Abaddon. Of special interest was an updated infrared image of Xacsin Castle, which Corban studied intently before printing it out for his team.

  Then, Corban wrote a report detailing his overnight adventure into the thick forest an hour north of Berlin. June read every word, even of Brauch's timely arrival to whisk him out of the forest. She was particularly awed by the fact that Corban had someone inside the castle already, someone named Snake, but he hadn't mentioned this much to his team. Probably for security reasons, he wouldn't divulge such information to anyone who didn't absolutely need it, and she took pride in the fact that he trusted her with such secret data that no one else knew. He encrypted the report and sent it to Chloe, then shut down his laptop.

  Picking up his radio, Corban pushed the button.

  "Scheduled report time, boys. Bruno, this is Corban. Come in. Over."

  "This is Bruno. What's up?"

  "What's your status?"

  "Setting up a hard link to the telephone relay box west of the castle on the highway. Should be done in an hour, then I'll be going into the woods north of the target. Over."

  "Take backup. They're patrolling on ATVs for tracks in this snow. Over."

  "Roger that. I'll see if Memphis or Johnny is free. Over."

  "Good. Scooter, Brauch, come in."

  "Scooter here. Talk to me, Boss. Brauch's right here, too."

  "You guys find a range? Over."

  "Yes, sir. Why didn't you tell me this guy's a better shot than me? Over."

  "How're the NL-X1s? Over."

  "Dead-on accurate, but how are we supposed to use them on this op? The castle's surrounded by forest with no ridges or hills nearby to shoot over the castle walls. Over."

  "Get with Bruno. I want two sets of scaffolding set up nine hundred yards out. Over."

  "That's gonna to be some, uh, tall scaffolding to see over the trees. Over."

  "Anything else, Scooter?"

  "Nope. We're out."

  "Johnny, Memphis, come in," Corban called.

  "Memphis here."

  "Any progress on equipment? Even if we don't use everything, I want that list of machinery on standby. Over."

  "I agree. We've got a double-prop chopper. Capacity of fourteen. Also, the couple buses you wanted. Oh, and we've got an electromagnetic pulse gun. Interested? Over."

  "No, not right now, but flag it. Might need it another time. Over."

  "Okay, I'll get with Bruno on recon later this afternoon. Maybe we can go over more of this. Over."

  "Roger, Memphis. Take care. Over and out."

  Since the Berlin office supervisor had his job to do, and had a radio if anything came up, Corban told June that he didn't need to check in w
ith Rupert. Corban explained that Rupert was involved primarily as support for this mission. Rupert would arrange further transport for the team, or hotels, and coordinate intel gathered within his office.

  From a paper sack, Corban pulled a black beret and tugged it down over his bandaged head. Sticking his hand back into the bag, he hesitated, eyeing June with a mischievous look on his face.

  "It'll take some sacrifice, but I have a job for you. You're sure you can handle yourself?"

  June couldn't hold back a smile. She felt the excitement coursing through her body. In past years, she had hang-glided off cliffs in New Zealand, covered the war efforts in the Middle East, and scuba dived with sharks in the Indian Ocean.

  "Just try me."

  He produced a pair of hair clippers.

  "I need to use you as a prop for one of my covers. From now on, your name is December."

  "December. I see." June took a deep breath. "An undercover prop?"

  "You've got the idea. I'd do it myself, but I really don't look good bald." He set a black body-art marker on the bed. "Or with fake tattoos."

  #######

  Bernard Heisenberg liked to think of himself and his place as an all-purpose stop, dabbling in just about everything and discriminating against no one. The men's department store southwest of Tiergarten Street in West Berlin thrived as a world class, black-market hub for anything from stolen manuscripts to human trafficking. He ran the local trade, claiming to be distant offspring of the German physicist, Werner Heisenberg. But Bernard knew that many thought of him as nothing more than a thief and a fence, with little in common with the renowned physicist other than his name. Bernard rarely spent any time in his own shop, though. Usually, he was in his basement club where he served drinks and sent call girls to wait on wealthy clients who had yet to venture upstairs to partake of his other goods.

  Upstairs in the store, he felt too vulnerable where the bright lights showed off his egg-shaped body and caterpillar eyebrows. Thus, Bernard preferred the darkness and strobe lights of the club below, which was open day and night. There, he could lurk and play lord over his empire, his ugliness masked by the dim lighting and the cigar smoke he exhaled without pause.