by S Mays
The doors at the end of the hall exploded inward with a flash of fire and smoke. The bouncing doors and debris sailed over Sverre but solidly impacted his opponent, sending him tumbling down the hall. When the warrior came to a stop, he was covered by the two heavy metallic doors and bits of concrete.
Sverre uncovered his head and looked forward, coughing from the dust in the air. The dust swirled and blasted away, revealing a small VTOL craft hovering in the hangar. One of the missiles was missing from the left missile pod.
“You’ve got about fifteen seconds to get in this ship, mister!” Izzy yelled through a loudspeaker.
Dragging himself up, he glanced backward. There was no movement from his opponent, but he heard shouting farther off. Both of the swords had dematerialized again. His strength returned. Dashing forward, he raced out of the hallway and into the hangar. The craft turned sideways, exposing an open sliding door. He leapt from the top of the stairs directly into the craft.
“Buckle up!” Izzy said, swinging the craft back around. As he settled into the seat, she unleashed another missile at the hangar door and the wall above it. The craft veered to the side from the shock wave. Not waiting, she accelerated through the smoke and cleared the building.
Sverre glanced at her neck and noticed she didn’t have her collar on. He worriedly looped his finger around his. The lights in the building behind them returned. He looked at Izzy with panic in his eyes.
“Oh, you big baby, the charge has been disarmed. I just forgot to take it off,” she said. She hit the autopilot button and reached across the aisle and grabbed his collar with both hands. She paused a second, looked him in the eyes, then dragged him close to kiss him full on the lips. His protest of surprise was muffled.
“Besides, I kind of like you in a collar,” she said with a smile. The collar unlatched, falling to the floor. She let out a victory yell as they flew away into the night sky.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Peach, if you don’t eat something soon, you’ll blow away,” Sam remarked, polishing off a brownie. He flicked a few crumbs off of his prodigious gut.
“Something just doesn’t sit right about Sverre’s supposed betrayal,” Jessica responded, completely ignoring Sam’s statement.
“Look, I liked the kid too, but we took a risk on ’em, and he tried to hack the system and ran off. How many times do we have to go over this?”
“So? You know where he was going. We all knew he was headstrong and brash. I don’t like how he was set up. Inquest One is not where he should be. I want to talk to him.”
“All I can say is, it came from higher up to loosen his leash a bit and see what he would do. We knew he was snooping around, and we were right to be worried. It don’t matter for what reason he was doin’ it. You know that. And you know no one is allowed to contact any paranormals bein’ held in Inquest One. Not even you or the Old Man. You just need to get that idea out of your head before you end up locked up, too.”
She stood from the table and excused herself. She couldn’t let it go. Sverre was no traitor. Everyone knew he was foolishly trying to eliminate the werewolves responsible for attacking his family. They were locking up one of their own while letting other threats linger. Her grandfather had been strangely silent on the subject despite her probing.
She glanced at his usual seat at the table, now empty. He’d been missing more and more meals in the past few weeks, which was unusual. Perhaps it was related to what had happened to Sverre.
She went to the observation room once again to review the recordings from that night. Relieving the guard on duty, she settled into position in front of the large array of monitors. Sverre had gained access to her grandfather’s computer, but that terminal only had access to basic information. Bilford did not use it to review top-secret intel. How did Sverre supposedly find the location of the werewolf village while using that terminal? She logged into the system and began to peruse the files and permissions.
She attempted to replicate Sverre’s search but was unsuccessful. Checking the logs, she tried to identify who had granted permission to that terminal around or before that date, but the information was no longer available.
Either someone had put that information on that terminal and erased it afterward, or someone had granted it permissions it should not have, then revoked them. Sverre was not tech savvy enough to gain access to the main system databases with his clearance level. She had a nagging suspicion that someone had framed him, but the problem with digital footprints was they were easily erased if one was careful enough, and she didn’t have maximum security clearance either, despite her position.
She kicked back in the chair and thought a bit. She might have to call in a favor or two to figure this one out, but she was afraid of what she would find. Someone high up had to have arranged this entire operation, and making waves might make things difficult for her facility. It wasn’t completely unknown for corruption to occur within the organization, but it was usually caught by safeguards put into place throughout the centuries. She wondered if her grandfather was complicit in whatever was going on.
She glanced around at the various monitors that relayed information from cameras on the perimeter of the compound. Unlike most security cameras, they were extremely high resolution, and if you said “enhance” enough, you could observe the legs on a flea on a deer in the woods.
A thick fog had rolled in that night, obscuring visibility. The cameras were just one factor of the security system. There were numerous vibration sensors, motion detectors, and wards placed around the compound. It was not possible for anything of this world or another to approach undetected.
An almost imperceptible movement caught her eye on one of the monitors. Zooming in, she watched and waited. A small bit of fog was being blown about by a breeze. She watched it for a moment, mesmerized by the dancing of the mist in the air. She hadn’t noticed at first, but the little ballet had shifted near one of the ground spike sensors used to detect motion and vibration. The wispy tentacle of fog looped through the air, falling slowly to wind around the sensor. She enhanced again, blinking in disbelief. That shouldn’t be possible.
As it wrapped around the rod, the LED lights blinked a few times until the sensor went dark. She glanced at the other cameras and swiveled their views on other sensors. They were also dark. She then looked at the camera for the main house and noticed the fog was already moving to surround it.
Where are the wards? she thought as she hit the alarm button. The screen showed the fog starting to seep in through the front door. She dashed out the door toward the armory.
There were twenty-four soldiers stationed at the compound at all times (except the night Sverre had been captured). They’d never been attacked directly, but most of the soldiers were hardened veterans of numerous missions. They’d recently accepted a few trainees from another compound to allow some soldiers time off. Of course, there was also her and her grandfather, who were equal to half a dozen soldiers by themselves.
The lights flickered. Arriving at the doors of the armory, she attempted to open the door, but it remained shut. She tried again, with the same result. The compound was on full internal lockdown already, which shouldn’t have happened.
Unsheathing Casca, she deftly released the blade and sliced into the door slowly. It was thick, but the blade cut through the lock. After several minutes, she had it open. Arming herself, she raced down to the stairwell that led to the barracks. The door was locked as well.
If the building was on lockdown, then the guards on the main floor were the only ones providing defense. Everyone else was probably locked in various rooms throughout the building, with the main force stuck in the barracks. It would take too long to cut through all the doors on the way to the barracks. She dashed back up the hall, intent on making her way up to the soldiers on the main floor.
Above her, four men had barricaded themselves in front of the entrance to the building. Although the stout wood frame and door were a decent det
errent, the real protection was the alloy shutter that had risen from the floor behind the door. All windows and doors were likewise blocked by automatic shutters. The walls themselves were a combination of traditional materials on the outside, sandwiching a carbon nanotube and alloy weave that was at least as durable as the alloy doors. Interlaced throughout the material were rune signs and radiation currents that could repulse spiritual invaders.
The material, Knightium, had been developed not long after the advent of modern electricity. The current iteration, Knightium V, was unimaginably more advanced than the original material.
Named after its inventor, Margaret E. Knight, the material had revolutionized the war against supernatural threats, allowing the Order to capture and study beings that could not be held by conventional means.
The soldiers waited nervously, rifles aimed at the doorway. They’d received no orders outside of the alarm. Most of the security systems were down, along with their backups. They were on high alert but unable to discern the threat. The inner doors were locked, trapping them in the foyer and adjacent rooms.
There was a faint rapping on the other side of the outer door, then silence. A loud crash followed, sounding like the conventional wooden door had been obliterated. The soldiers looked at each other, sweat trickling down their brows. The gentle rapping continued on the metal blast door.
“Heh, no way they are getting through the gate,” one of the soldiers said. A faint scratching sound like nails on a chalkboard emanated from the metal barrier, causing some of them to wince. Again, someone knocked from the other side. The youngest of the gathered soldiers danced around, led by his bravado. He was one of the green transfers.
“I’d love to see you get through that!” he shouted. “C’mon in! I got something for ya!” He waved his rifle threateningly.
“Calm the hell down, Chris!” one of the others ordered.
“That was exactly what I was waiting to hear,” stated a calm voice through the doorway. “It’s refreshing to find someone with manners in these modern times. I accept your invitation.” A loud gong followed as a huge bulge appeared in the material.
“N-no way, man, that thing could survive fifty RPG attacks!” one of the soldiers shouted. “Where the hell is the backup?” he pleaded, looking down the hall behind them.
The first bulge was followed by several more. A small crack appeared where the protrusions touched. Something was forcing its way through the nigh-impenetrable barrier with its bare hands.
***
Jessica raced up the stairs. In her left hand was an assault rifle with a cartridge of ammunition that varied. Some shells might affect a werewolf; other shells might affect a golem. In her left was Casca, one of the most potent weapons in the building.
When she reached the main floor, she was shocked by the carnage. It had only taken a few minutes, but the front of the building was completely exposed. The metal doors had been blown violently off their hinges. Small fires burned as plaster fell away from the walls. Hundreds of bullet holes lined every surface. Limbs were strewn about. She counted two bodies. One was dismembered. The other was completely pale, drained of blood. How could all of this have happened so quickly?
There was a commotion upstairs. She silently sprinted to investigate.
In a side room, two figures struggled. One went down, unmoving. The room was dark, as all of the lights had been smashed except for one lamp in the corner.
“Hold it!” she yelled, taking aim. She switched on the LED light on her rifle to identify the combatants.
One of the soldiers was standing over the body of another. In his hand, he held a bloody knife. He was likewise covered in blood. He turned to face her. The look on his face was not one of a rational man.
“Mark?” she gasped, recognizing the soldier. “What are you doing? Put down the knife!” she commanded.
He lurched toward her, raising the weapon above his head.
“Drop it!” she shouted. He continued to shamble toward her. She fired one round into his thigh. He continued forward, seemingly oblivious to the wound.
She swung around and landed a roundhouse kick to his head, sending him reeling across the room. He crashed into a table, flipping it over on top of himself. He stood back up, advancing again.
“Don’t make me do this, Mark!” she ordered.
A hand burst from his chest, covered in gore and blood. The enthralled man looked down at his still-beating heart in the grip of the hand.
“The lady requested something of you. You must respect her wishes,” a silky voice said from behind Mark, its speaker hidden in the darkness.
“Fool, I told you to kill soldiers, not her!” the figure stated before tossing the limp body to the side as if it were a rag doll.
“Stay where you are,” Jessica said, focusing her light on the unknown entity.
“No need for dramatics, Jessica. I’m here to see you. This could all have been done peacefully, but these men insisted otherwise. It seems my visitation did not go as planned.”
The man was around six feet tall, dressed head to toe in black. His outfit was body armor, but molded to look like a very expensive suit. Despite the carnage all around and a few specks of blood, he was unharmed by the entire confrontation.
“Yes, despite my innumerable talents, I still take precautions,” he said, following her gaze to his protective suit. He was extremely handsome, with black hair, golden eyes, a chiseled face, and a well-muscled body.
Upon seeing his face, Jessica opened fire, focusing on the area of his heart. The body armor deflected most of the shells, but a few released a fluorescent green liquid that bubbled and sizzled on the front of the suit. The material started to melt into a thick sludge, exposing a small area of his chest.
“That’s new,” he remarked, looking down at the hole forming in the suit. “Some type of molecular acid, I take it?”
Before she could blink, he appeared in front of her, grabbing the rifle and crushing it in a split second. He made no attempt to attack her.
“This was a very expensive suit. The man who made it is dead, and I haven’t found someone who can work with this material with the same skill,” he said.
“I’ll make sure they bury you in it,” she retorted, flipping backward, catching him under the chin with a boot. She tossed a ball to the ground that bounced back up and hovered in the air. It flickered for a moment and remained lit, bathing the room in a blinding light. The man drew back, shielding his face with his hands, just as Jessica lunged forward with Casca, plunging the blade into the hole in his chest armor. She jumped backward before he could strike back.
The man chuckled, walking toward her, still shielding his face from the light. The ball released a combination flare with ultraviolet light. The ultraviolet light was not strong enough to do much harm to a vampire of his level, but it would blind him temporarily if he wasn’t careful. With his free hand, he grasped the orb and crushed it. He lowered his other arm and looked at his chest.
“Truly, Casca is one of the most marvelous inventions your father ever created,” he stated, looking at the small hole in his skin. “However, Casca would need to remain in contact with my flesh for three seconds before reaching my heart, then another two seconds to destroy it. You barely made it through my skin, although your callous and barbaric attack has certainly wounded my heart, my lovely. Of course, there was no way you could know this, as the Order’s information on vampire lords is virtually nonexistent.”
“Don’t you speak of my father!” Jessica yelled, exploding forward again, Casca aimed at the same spot.
“Stop.”
She immediately ceased moving. Just as in a game of Red Light, Green Light, she was instantly immobile. Her time had run out.
He smiled and strode toward her. He gently pried her fingers from around Casca and removed the weapon from her grip.
He leaned forward, gently whispering in her ear, his voice like velvet. “I know your father better than you do. I know the sec
ret to these weapons he created as well.”
With that, he stepped back into her view, drew a deep breath, and exhaled onto Casca. The minute particles began to break away, drifting off into the air. The effect was similar to blowing onto a dandelion until nothing remained but the hilt.
“They rely on willpower,” he said, smiling again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sverre’s mind wandered as they streaked across the dark night sky. There was a faint glow on the horizon, a mixture of pink and orange contrasting against black, indicating dawn was approaching. “What was that awful place?” he asked.
“Utah,” she replied. “Oh, you mean that dandy prison in the middle of the desert. That place is more of a high-level security research station than anything. The real threats are kept at the Mariana facility. Be glad we weren’t there, because there ain’t no coming back from that place.”
“Mariana? You mean the Mariana Trench?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yup. Not a lot of info on it, but the life expectancy there tends to be on the low side.”
“I thought the Order eliminated threats on the spot in most cases?”
“Some things they haven’t figured out a way to eliminate, bucko — I meant the life expectancy of the guards,” she said. “That place we were just at is called Inquest One. Top-of-the-line research and development. They catalog and study new phenomena there, figure out ways to counter it or weaponize it.”
“So, why were you there?” he asked.
“Let’s just say they don’t take kindly to someone selling their tech and secrets, but they couldn’t figure out how I was gettin’ around their firewalls. I worked for them for years and made a lot of scratch stealing their tech and secrets. As best they could determine, they figured I was some kind of telepath, so they kept me locked in an EM room, using electromagnetic waves to block any thought waves into or out of the room. Problem is, that ain’t what I am.”
“So, what are you?” Sverre asked.
