Nomad Mortis: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 8)

by Craig Martelle

  “For as long as I’ve been here,” the old man replied. Sue waited, but he didn’t add anything. They walked up the steps to the building.

  “How long have you been here?” Sue finally gave in and had to ask.

  “Thirty-five years, but we didn’t have trucks back then. Those are fairly new. Everything was horse and cart, except for the ships. They were always Japanese and came fully loaded. Back then, it was only one every few months. Now, seems like new ones arrive every day. We’re working to open the docks by Pier 39,” he said, stopping to wave a skeletal hand to the north.

  “I can’t thank you enough for your help,” Sue said, gripping the man’s shoulders and flashing her baby blues. “Point me in the right direction and I’ll be on my merry way.”

  “Nothing doing!” he exclaimed so vigorously that he started coughing. He worked it out and then continued into the building, waving happily at someone behind a counter. They looked at him oddly.

  Now that he was in a good mood, no one would recognize him, or they’d think he’d been bewitched. Sue smirked at the thought. That had been her plan. It had been a long time since she had to use her wiles, but she was enjoying herself. Or she could have just as readily gone on a killing rampage.

  Her senses told her that there were only humans in the building. Had there been a Forsaken, she would have had to come up with a new plan.

  Sue also noted that the lights were on in this building.

  The old man led her to a set of double doors with a guard out front. The man stood as they approached, holding out a hand to stop them.

  “They’re in session and not to be disturbed.”

  “I think they need to meet this fine young woman. You’ll let us in,” the old man demanded.

  “Like hell. Get out of here before I snap you like a twig, old man. You can stay,” he said to Sue, “but only if you want to sit on my lap while you’re waiting.” The man smiled gruffly, not expecting that she’d agree.

  “Sure. I’ll wait. Thank you, kind sir, for defending my honor. I’ll take care of things from here,” Sue told the old man. His expression softened as he looked at her. Sue recognized the look. “You have kids of your own, don’t you?”

  “Did,” he said sadly.

  “I’m sure you were a great dad. You better get back to the wharf before those youngsters screw everything up,” Sue said encouragingly.

  “You’re right. I better get back. And you, you big meathead, keep your paws off her!” The old man thrust his middle finger up at the man. Sue thought he was trying to drive it up the guard’s nostril. She leaned back, expecting a fight, but the guard restrained himself.

  “Get out of here, you old bat!” the guard ordered. With one last toothy smile, the old man turned and left.

  “I guess it’s just us now, Sue said, moving close to the man who did not stand much taller than her, but was heavy.

  “Yeah, baby, just us now,” he answered. He never saw the heel strike that caught him square on his chin. He wouldn’t have bit through his tongue, except it happened to be out of his mouth at the time.

  He staggered back and the blood gushed from between his lips. He opened his mouth to show the tip of a ruined tongue, then lunged. Sue’s second strike caught his nose perfectly, driving shards of bone upward and into the man’s brain. She stepped aside deftly as the dead body hit the floor.

  She stepped over him, opened the double doors, and strolled into the meeting chamber. There was a long conference table surrounded by eight men and woman. Sue immediately saw who was in charge.

  An Asian man sat at the end of the table. “Ohayo-gozaimasu,” Sue greeted him with a slight bow.

  One of the others stood. “You can’t be in here. Paul! Come in here and remove this person,” the man shouted angrily. They were dressed in suits, which looked out of place more than anything else Sue had seen since she entered the city.

  It was refreshing for her to see. It reminded her of a normal life so long ago when she would have been dressed to kill at a table just like that one, doing business as they had been doing before she so rudely interrupted.

  “He won’t be joining us, and you may want to send someone to clean up that mess out there. I’m here to tell you that we may allow some of you to remain in your positions, but you’re going to answer to us now. There’s a new sheriff in town, and his name is Terry Henry Walton,” Sue told them.

  They looked at her as if she was an alien. The angry man stormed from his seat and made to manhandle her. She dodged his clumsy attack and backhanded him across the face. He staggered and nearly fell. He redoubled his efforts, only to end up face first on the floor with no idea how he got there.

  “Get back in your seat,” she ordered him, pulling the man to his feet and propelling him toward the conference table.

  She removed the communication device from her pocket. “Terry Henry, I found the people you and Char need to talk with.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  North Chicago

  “You want two platoons for duty in San Francisco?” Akio replied.

  “Yes, Akio-sama. Boris and Nickles, but not Lacy, because they are going to be here for a while and I want him to recruit and train. We’ll send additional supplies, but to start with, they’re going to need a standard combat load. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you dropping them off,” Terry said.

  “We will give them time to say their good-byes. Will tomorrow morning work?” Akio asked.

  “That works great, and thank you, again, Akio-sama.” Terry signed off. He looked at Char. “Shall we go talk to some people?”

  “We’re going to surprise the hell out of them,” Char said. Because of the truck ride, they were only two minutes from where Char sensed Sue. They hurried their pace up the stairs and into the building.

  They waved to the person at the counter, who stared dumbfounded. Terry and Char continued on their way as if they knew where they were going.

  Down the hallway to the dead body, where they stopped briefly. “Sometimes you have to break a few eggs,” Char said. They turned together and entered the council chambers.

  “You called?” Terry said.

  “The City Council. They call the shots regarding imports and exports. They run the city when you-know-who are underground,” she said slowly, as if mocking what they told her.

  “Thanks, Sue!” Terry said happily and walked around the table to size up every member of the council. He stopped at the man who sat at the table’s head. They locked eyes for a moment, but the man looked away before Terry did.

  “I’m Terry Henry Walton. My friends call me TH. That isn’t any of you, so you can call me Colonel Walton. I know that you’ve had dealings with the men in black leather. They are the enemy of all mankind and we are systematically eliminating them, wherever they’re hiding. So, you’re on your own now, but don’t fret! We wouldn’t hang you out to dry like that,” Terry said. He spotted a pitcher of water on the table and helped himself to a glass, drinking it empty.

  He appreciated that it tasted clean.

  “Who are you to determine that they weren’t good for mankind?” the man at the head of the table asked in a mild Japanese accent.

  “They eat people. You can turn your back on that, tolerating it because of the comfort they’ve provided for you, but I cannot. I’ll continue,” Terry said, glaring at the man. “We’re going to leave two platoons here to monitor. And your new mayor is Sue right here and with her is a chief engineer. He’s working right now to bring the power back on. Your benefactors blew the underground where they’d been living and took out the power grid. It might be a while, but Timmons will get it back on.”

  “What if we don’t want to stay?” Sue asked.

  “They have nightclubs with music and dancing,” Terry offered.

  “We may never leave!” Sue replied instantly.

  “We’re going to recruit some of your people to join the ranks of the FDG, a unit with worldwide reach. We export justic
e. The only thing we really want is for people to have the right of self-determination. We can’t abide by external influences like those with the genetic conditions who so recently were calling the shots here. What do you need them for? We’ll help you to be independent.”

  Terry leaned against the wall. The looks on their faces suggested that they were unconvinced. Maybe they didn’t know that the Forsaken were harvesting people. San Francisco was thriving by anyone’s measure. Compared to anywhere else Terry had been, San Francisco was the most modern of any city in the new era.

  “Independence. Self-determination. Those are just words because you put your own people in charge. We have traded one master for another, that’s all,” the man at the end of the table said.

  “There are words and there are actions. Right now, the gates to the city are opened for people to come and go as they wish. Unencumbered trade and freedom of movement are important for a society to truly be free. In one month’s time, you’ll see that we are not trying to take over, but handing you more and more authority until we can pull out completely.

  “We don’t want to stay here and run your city, that’s for you to do, but we can’t let you be manipulated by those who we know are evil. And we’ll protect your city, too, from incursions by those whose sole purpose is to destroy. We bring a great deal of experience and knowledge to the game. You’ll find that you can work with Sue and Timmons. Be honest and take care of your people before you take care of yourselves and we won’t have any problems. San Fran will flourish under your leadership, I have no doubt.” Terry ended his short speech.

  He was right in that words would make little difference. Sue’s actions would win them over.

  The council sat stone-faced as Terry looked from one to the next, gauging who would be a problem.

  “Joseph,” Terry called softly.

  The Forsaken entered slowly, looking from under his hat’s brim at the humans around the table. They recognized what he was and their fear was palpable. He walked casually around the table, trailing his hand across each as he went by. Many shivered at his touch.

  That told Terry more than anything he had been able to learn about the council on his own. They knew very well who they were working with when they strapped their wagons to the Forsaken train. Terry frowned at their duplicity.

  “I thought the destruction of civilization had removed politicians as a class unto themselves, but here you were, resurrected in all your sewer-stinking glory! I’m not sure I have the words to describe how much I fucking despise you self-serving types. You have the gall to glare at me!” Terry growled.

  He spun one of the chairs around and grabbed the woman’s hands, forcing her palms upright. He ran a rough finger over her soft skin.

  A stranger to hard work. He pinched her arm to find there was little muscle there. Char coughed behind him, to get his attention.

  “You fuckers make me sick,” he spat, turning the woman back around to face her fellows.

  Joseph tipped his chin toward the man at the head of the table. “I suggest sending this one back to Japan. He’s the so-called ambassador, but he’s been working closely with my brethren. He knows only too well what they are and how they feed. He was more than happy to sacrifice the people of San Francisco for his own betterment,” Joseph explained.

  “Maybe we make an example of him?” Terry offered. The other council members unconsciously moved their chairs away from the man, physically distancing themselves. “Is he the only one?”

  “Surprisingly, he is,” Joseph answered. “He was the master manipulator after having been subverted.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’ve been removed from the council. I’ll take that seat if you don’t mind,” Sue interjected smoothly.

  The man sat there, wrestling with his next actions. He crossed his arms and tipped his head back in defiance. Terry’s eyes flashed red, but Joseph held out a hand.

  Joseph leaned close to the man, using his wide hat to block the others’ view. He opened his mouth and extended his canines, showing what a Vampire looked like. The man’s eyes shot wide and the blood drained from his face. “This is who you climbed into bed with, now it’s your turn, so toughen up and take it like a man!” Joseph said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

  The man buried his face in his hands, blocking his neck with his arms.

  “Get him out of here,” Terry snarled. Joseph picked up the chair with the man still in it and dumped him onto the floor. Sue kicked him on her way past and sat down while Joseph held the chair for her, pushing it in graciously once she was settled. She waved Terry away with a flick of her hand, a motion he’d seen too often over the past twenty-five years.

  Terry strolled to the man on the floor, who was still covering his face. The colonel picked him up by the back of the collar and dragged him into the hallway, over the dead body, and through the small pool of blood. Terry dumped him on the floor.

  “Pick up that body. You’re now the janitor for this building.”

  The man whimpered, but bowed his head and turned to the grisly task of removing the corpse from the hallway.

  ***

  Sergeant Kim stood with her fists on her hips as San Fran’s guard force trickled in. She had them turn in their weapons to a detail of Force privates who were examining each one to determine serviceability. They hadn’t undergone the harsh treatment of Force weapons.

  Most only needed a good cleaning and a little oil for them to be in optimal firing condition. The front and rear sights of the weapons were all over the place. Kim expected that they had not been sighted in or fired for as long as most of the guard had been alive. The chance that they could aim and actually hit something was remote.

  No wonder they were so easily subdued. They knew that they had no clue, compared to the FDG platoon. Defeating your enemy without fighting. That was a Terry Henry lesson taken from the teachings of Sun Tzu.

  It was best that the guard hadn’t fought with Kim’s platoon. At least alive, they could be trained or moved to a different line of work. Had they attacked, they would all be dead.

  At the end of the day, one hundred and fifteen men and women stood in a group. Kim looked them over, sending one squad through the bunch to collect the last of the ammunition. They let them keep their knives.

  “Who’s in charge?” Kim yelled.

  “You are,” someone replied from the middle of the mass of people. Kim snorted.

  A man who appeared to be younger than Kimber stepped forward. “I know what happened to the last guy who said he was in charge, but I’m the one who issues the schedule and sets the guard in. Go ahead. Shoot me,” he said, resigned to his fate.

  Kim looked behind her to see if he was talking to someone else. Kim’s M4 was slung behind her back. She wasn’t in a position to shoot anyone.

  “Here’s what you’re going to do,” she told him, standing on a curb so she’d look more imposing. “You are going to select thirty of the very best guards from this group. And the rest of them are dismissed. Send them home where they can start looking for a new job.”

  He nodded slowly when it dawned on him that he wasn’t going to be killed. He turned to the group and called for silence. “My name is Breaker D, and I need your help…” the man started.

  Kim left them to it. Kaeden clapped quietly. “Nicely done, sis,” he told her.

  “Thanks, Kae. You could have done that if only you were a few inches taller,” she jibed.

  “And don’t you forget it!” he said, before returning to his people to tally the final number of recovered weapons and ammunition.

  North Chicago

  “Oh, crap. We did it again, didn’t we?” Skippy lamented. Butch looked at the carcass. There was almost nothing left of their kill from the previous day. They ate until they were tired, then they slept until they were hungry. Then they ate again.

  And slept again.

  They weren’t sure how much time had passed since they left, but knew they couldn’t return empty hande
d.

  “We need to kill another deer and take it back without eating it,” Butch advised.

  “I’m good not eating,” Skippy replied. “We could use some clothes, too. I still have no idea where ours are and to be honest, I couldn’t tell you where North Chicago is.”

  “Typical,” Butch snapped. “I knew I should have partnered with an alpha, someone willing to take charge, deliver me to grand events in style. Just look at me! I have you to thank for this.”

  Skippy looked at her. Her hair was messed up and she was dirty, but he thought she looked good, as Werewolves had a tendency to.

  “You look great, Butch. Let me stand back and ogle my hot woman,” he said, sidling away.

  She smirked before pulling up a weed and throwing it at him. He threw a mud clump and then ran. She ran after him until he jumped in a stream, enjoying the cool water. She climbed in and they bathed.

  After that, they reveled in each other’s bodies. Once they laid back, they realized that they were happy.

  “Having a real alpha and a whole community is refreshing, don’t you think?” Skippy asked.

  “Yes. I like it, but they won’t like us if we don’t bring anything back. Right now, we’re just a couple fuck-offs. I don’t want to be me when I’m telling the alpha that we ignored her direction. I am sure Char will rip off our heads,” Butch replied.

  “She threw me over a fucking building! No lie, sweetcheeks. Let’s get us a deer and haul it back. Hell, woman! Let’s get two,” Skippy declared, having already zeroed in on two animals not far away. They crawled from the water, changed into Were form, and immediately headed downwind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  San Francisco

  Three pods sat near the wharf. The platoons and the tac teams mingled as the two incoming platoons were briefed on their mission.

  Sue and Timmons stood to the side, since they would be remaining in San Francisco. They were responsible for giving the platoons the direction they needed to secure the city.