“Yeah, you said that.” Mark stared at the drawings. “Looks like something from a damned video game.”
“Agreed. Numerous video games use something similar in their main character’s graphics to…”
Mark cut him off. “So how do we stop these things?”
Evan stared at him, open mouthed. “Stop them? Oh…I…I have no idea. I thought you were looking to procure them for the squads.”
“Sorry Doc. It’s not like I can drop by our local Sears or Home Depot and order this. This is top shelf military-spy shit. Space age stuff that we’re supposed to believe doesn’t exist. But now there’s some kind of super soldier out there that has these, and word has it that they’re gunning for us.”
Evan blanched and slowly sat back down. “You’re serious? Another clandestine group has outfitted their people with these and they are targeting our boys?”
“That’s the word. So how do we stop them?”
Evan shook his head. “I don’t know. Yet.” He turned and pulled the stack of files back to him. “Let me get back to you.”
*****
Bigby pulled the truck past the now closed Base Exchange and dimmed the lights. He knew these roads from memory, having drilled the procedure through his mind a dozen times. He drove the slightly twisting road, his eyes constantly scanning for military police, private security or the odd passerby and turned left to pass in front of the hangar. The empty building on his left cast a shadow over the truck as he drove the speed limit past the front of the hangar, his eyes scanning the guard shack out front.
He slowed for the stop sign and rolled through it like most normally do then turned left again, intending to pull around and park behind the empty office complex across from the hangar. He pulled the truck into the empty parking lot and killed the engine. He sat in the cab and strained his ears for the longest time, listening for any odd sounds through the open window. If anything at all felt the slightest bit off, he would quickly determine whether to continue with his plan or abandon it and try again later.
After twenty minutes he quietly opened the door of the truck and slipped from the cab. He stood outside and scanned the area, his eyes taking in everything. He checked both entrances to the parking area and quickly scanned the windows of the building. Convinced the area was clear, Bigby approached the rear entrance of the empty office and tried the door. Locked.
Slipping around to a bottom floor window, he began lifting each until he found one that was unlocked. Within moments he was inside and the window was slid back into place. Bigby quickly found the stairs and silently made his way to the third floor. He wanted a bird’s eye view from where he could observe the squads for a while. If he could determine that they were still operating from the hangar and discern any notable pattern, his job would be all the easier.
Big entered what appeared to have been a cube farm in a former life. Most of the equipment and furniture had been removed at some point in the past. He slowly made his way toward the window when he heard a rustling noise in the corner that froze him in his steps. Slowly he backed away and crept around to flank the source of the noise.
Bigby peered over a stack of old chairs to see what looked like a soldier stretched out on a bed of couch cushions under the bank of windows. “Are we hiding or are we AWOL?”
The man nearly jumped out of his skin as Big spoke to him. “Who’s that? I-I’m not a…I’m not a soldier!” Mick threw his hands into the air, his head on a swivel, unable to see the source of the voice.
“If you’re not a soldier, then why the uniform, mate?” Bigby stepped out from behind the chairs, a .45 leveled at his chest.
“To blend in,” Mick admitted, his jaw ticking. “I’m…” He let his voice trail off, unwilling to admit that he was on the run.
“Spill it, boy-o, or I’ll poke holes in you for fun.”
Mick squinted in the dim light of the cluttered office and cocked his head. “You’re not Air Force.”
“Says who?”
“You’re a limey. And you have no uniform.”
“Yeah. And you sound Aussie. But you do have a uniform, so that sends up a red flag, now don’t it?”
Mick lowered his hands slowly and planted them on his hips. “Let me guess. You’re one of Simmons’ men? You come here to spy on them, too”
Big felt a crooked smile cross his features. “The fact that you even know that name makes me wonder who the hell you are, mate.”
“I’m Mick. I flew his daughter up here.” He shook his head and glanced out the window. “The old man told me to play along, keep his daughter safe, blah, blah, blah. How the hell was I to know that she would find ‘her one true love’ and get herself mixed up in all this mess?”
“So you’re the inside man that fed his wolves all that phony intel?”
Mick held his hands up. “Oy! Now they caught on to what the hell was going on and made me do that. Then they were gonna ship me off to some deserted island. I ripped the throat out of one of their pilots and forced the other to bring me back here. I knew they’d be looking for me so I got a haircut, a shave, and bought me this uniform so I could blend in.” He pointed to the hangar below. “I’ve been camping out here ever since. Eating take out and farting like a freight train.”
Bigby considered the man’s story and holstered his pistol. “So, what am I supposed to do with you? It’s not like you’re gonna go running off to the squad and tell them I’m up here, now are you?”
“My only interest is in keeping Jennifer safe.”
Bigby snorted. “And my only interest is in killing every last one of them. And to be honest, kid, I don’t give two shits if the little bitch gets caught up in it or not.”
Mick’s eyed widened. “No, you can’t.”
“I can. And I will.” He turned and stared out the window toward the hangar. “And I’ll do you too if you try to get in my way.”
*****
Brooke lay in her bed and pulled her blanket up to her chin to stifle her crying. She couldn’t believe that she had allowed herself to lower her defenses and allow someone inside. For so long she had kept the wall up, keeping everyone and everything at arm’s length, not allowing any feelings to penetrate. She couldn’t let feelings enter into the equation. Feelings can get you killed. Feelings for others can be used as leverage. Feelings are bad.
But the dreams…they had to mean something, didn’t they? They felt so real. They warmed her from within. They broke through the hardened façade and made her realize that without feelings life wasn’t worth living. They caused her to weaken and accept another in a way that she never thought she could again. She hadn’t wanted to, but she did. Was it his doing or hers? Was it meant to be or was it a cruel trick of another? Were they destined to be together or not? How could dreams feel so real?
Then when they acted upon them, it was even better than the dreams ever hoped of being. Her heart had swelled with emotion that she hadn’t realized she was missing in her life. A river, overflowing its bank as it swept her out of her comfort zone and into a whole new world of newness…new feelings that she wasn’t acquainted with. It wasn’t that it was unwelcome, just unfamiliar.
She pulled the blanket tighter as she remembered the look in John’s eyes when she reconciled with him. If she withdrew back into her shell, could he ever forgive her? She had just rekindled that sibling relationship and she could tell that it was something he needed every bit as much as she needed that damned elf.
She suddenly sat up, her breath caught in her throat. She needed that elf? The realization struck her as odd and frightening at the same time. She didn’t need anybody. She never had and she never would. How could she have even thought such a thing?
A light knock at her door brought her out of her reverie and she quickly glanced at the shadow under her doorway. “Go away!”
Kalen’s soft voice spoke through the seam along the doorjamb, “Brooke, please. I must speak with you.”
“No. You said what you needed to
say. Now leave.”
She heard the knob twist and refuse to give against the lock. “Please, Brooke.”
“I said no.” She pulled the blanket up tighter and fell back onto her bed. “Just leave me alone,” her voice was muffled under the wool blanket.
“I don’t ever want to leave you again,” his voice cracked in the echo of the hallway. “I was wrong. The Wyldwood may ban me from ever returning home for being with you, but…how can I ever return home if I’m incomplete?”
She reluctantly pulled the blanket down and listened to him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you complete me. I’m nothing without you. I’d rather be banished to this world with you than to live in the Anywhere without you. I’d rather be any place there is…even to be felled in battle as long as you are in my heart.”
Brooke sat up and stared at the shadow under her door. “You don’t mean it.”
“I do.” Kalen pressed his forehead to her door. “I’ll surrender the Gatekeeper to Chief Jack. I’ll never return to my people…if you’ll still have me.”
Kalen stared at the grey metal door and was about to give up when he heard the lock turn. Slowly the door opened and he stared at her. Her swollen eyes, her mussed hair and her unkempt gown. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. “I love you, Brooke.”
She threw her arms around him and pulled him inside.
*****
“Damage assessment.”
Ingram stared at the printout and smiled inwardly. “Minimal. Barely more than a few scratches.”
“Chances of infection?”
“Nil. They have enough colloidal silver running through them that I’m surprised their skin isn’t blue.” Ingram set the printouts in front of Jameson and turned to the viewscreen to check the edited films of the testing. “You realize that is where the term ‘blue bloods’ originated from, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know. The wealthy in Elizabethan times ate acidic foods from silver platters and goblets that caused the silver to leach into their blood. You’ve told me this story numerous times.”
Ingram scowled at the man behind his back. “I just find it funny that the very thing that turned their pallor grey-blue prevented them from becoming ill, that’s all.”
“So you’ve said.” Jameson dropped the printout and eyed the smaller man. “You’re certain that the colloidal silver is sufficient to prevent infection?”
“Between the silver in their armor and the silver in their system, they should be protected.” He turned and gave him a crooked smile. “We can give them injections of infused garlic if you’d like.”
“Ha-ha-ha. I’m sure the men would enjoy smelling like a cheap Italian restaurant.”
Ingram snorted. “They’re so brainwashed, they wouldn’t care. If you told them to march off a cliff, they would.”
“They’re not lemmings, Robert.” Jameson stepped over to the viewscreen and glanced at the video. “They’re still soldiers with minds of their own.”
“Now that is funny.” Ingram adjusted the brightness of the image and sat back to stare at the CRT. “You’ve got them so doped up that they couldn’t create an original thought if they had to. I guess it’s for the best though. With that much HGH and steroids running through their systems, if they were allowed to run unchecked, they’d probably fall into a hormone induced rage and kill each other.”
“You’re not amusing.” Jameson reached past him and clicked the button to eject the video disc.
“Hey, I was still watching that.” He reached for the disc as Jameson slipped it into his jacket pocket.
“Burn another one for your own records.” He stretched his neck and squared his shoulders. “Notify me once they’re rearmed and rested. I want to be there when they’re field tested against the fangers moving north.”
Ingram stared at him as though he had just slapped him. “Remind me again who put you in charge? I thought we were partners in this little venture.”
“The mere fact that I’m the Director of the Agency and you’re the Assistant Director for the NSA means I have seniority.’
“And let me guess. Since you’re older you get to sit in the front seat on long trips and you get to pick which cereal Mom buys when she goes shopping?” Ingram gave him a sardonic glare.
“Don’t be a smart ass, Robert. We have far too much work left ahead of us.” Jameson reached for his hat and stepped to the door. “To be honest, with how you’ve been talking about the way these soldiers have been treated, I’m beginning to wonder if you were the right man for this project.”
“Hey, I came to you with this, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.” Jameson paused, his hand on the door. “Which causes me to wonder why you’re suddenly getting cold feet at this early stage. You read the project reports prior to us implementing them. You knew what would happen. You were on board before you ever presented it to me. But suddenly I’m the bad guy for approving the project and making it a reality?” He pulled the door open and stepped through. “I think you need to get your priorities straight, Robert.”
10
Mitchell hung up the phone and rubbed at his eyes. “What a clusterfuck.”
“I take it you won’t be joining me for food?”
He glanced up to see Jenny standing at his door, a disappointed look on her face. “I’m sorry, love. Things have gone from bad to worse.”
She pulled the door shut behind her and walked slowly into his office. “Are things always so stressful?” She slipped in behind his chair and began kneading at his neck and shoulders, attempting to work the knots out.
Mitchell groaned as his eyes closed to slits and the tension worked itself from his body. “Believe it or not, not always, but lately it seems like if it’s not one thing, it’s another. We’re either under attack by a group of crazed wolves or there’s some power hungry lunatic trying to take over the world. Now we find out that another government agency has some kind of super soldier in the making and they’re targeting us.”
“What? Can they do that? Don’t you work for the government?”
He shrugged slightly under her grip. “Yes and no. Technically we do, but also, we’re military and we’re a black op. We’re under the radar by most standards.” He groaned as she hit a particularly stiff knot.
“So can’t the government people you work for tell the other government people to go to hell?”
He chuckled lightly at her over simplification. “I actually just got off the phone with one of those government people.”
“And? What did they say?”
“Off the record, they said that if it came down to us versus them, they’ll disavow us. They can’t risk having their names attached to a group of operators whose purpose is hunting monsters. On the record, he’s going to do what he can, but he seriously doubted he would have much pull.”
“Why’s that? Government is government, isn’t it?” She stopped massaging and stared at him. “Can’t they tell the others to just stop what they’re wanting to do before they do it?”
“That’s part of the problem. The other group is a pretty secretive club. Nearly everything they do is hush-hush. Just getting info on them is nearly impossible. Trying to find out exactly who, what, when and why?” He shook his head as he let the statement hang in the air.
“That doesn’t seem right, Matt. No group should be so big that one part doesn’t know what the other part is doing.”
“I agree, but then, I’m not the head honcho in charge either.” He reached up and took her hand. Pulling her to him, he cradled her in his lap. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. We’ve had worse problems crop up before.”
She stared into his eyes and he could see them tear up. “I know this sounds silly, but I just found you. I’m not ready for us to be over yet.”
“I thought we were both in it for the long haul?”
She kissed him lightly and laid her head gently on his shoulder. “We are, I’d
just like the long haul to be a bit longer than a few days.”
*****
Jack scribbled notes in his pad while his team shuffled into the conference room. Allister appeared almost angry as he glared at the man standing at the front by the white board. Azrael stepped near the griffin and patted his thick shoulder. “You look troubled, friend.”
“That is stating things mildly.” Allister turned his feathered head toward the gargoyle. “We had a visitor while you were out, and it left me…disheveled.”
Jack looked up from his notes and raised his voice. “Everybody grab a seat. We have a lot to go over and little time to do it.” He noted the sly grins that Kalen and Brooke shot at each other and how she made sure she found a seat next to the lean warrior. His curiosity piqued, but he kept his thoughts to himself as he finished scribbling in his notes. “As Allister stated, we did have a visitor. An angelic visitor.”
A light murmuring went up in the small crowd and Phil’s brows hiked as he looked up at Jack. “Did he give his name?”
“Azazel. Ring any bells?”
The Nephilim shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No, but that doesn’t necessarily mean much. I’ve only met a handful.”
“He claimed that the archangel Michael sent him with a message.” Jack cleared his throat and watched while the crowd gave him their unfettered attention. “He gave us Lilith’s location. He also said that, if we wait, she’ll come to us.”
Kalen glanced about at the crowd. “Why would she come here?”
Gnat grunted as he thumped his hammer down on the table. “We took something she wants back.” He glanced to Chief Jack and nodded. “Didn’t we?”
“According to the angel, she wants her suicide vests back. But seeing as how I sent them out for demil, she can’t reclaim them.” Jack slipped the cap back on his pen and made short paths in the carpet as he paced. “I was only able to discuss the details for a short time with Azazel, but there are bad points to both choices. If we go to her, we’re in unfamiliar territory. If she comes to us, we put a lot of other lives at risk that don’t necessarily need to be.”
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