by S Mays
“This time, I am full of rage,” Varulf snarled.
Dragos rose to his feet, dusting himself off. The expensive suit was now an expensive set of rags. “My, you are upset. You know, that throne was an irreplaceable antique. It was the throne of the last king of Sri Lanka. I am going to mount your head on the wall for this affront.”
“I’m going to gnaw on your bleached, dusty bones,” Varulf returned.
Sverre turned to Jessica. “This is getting really heavy!”
“If these two go all-out in here, we will be killed!” she warned, concentrating on her bonds. The guard behind her looked at the two of them, then back at the fight between his master and the towering werewolf. He clearly did not want to get in the middle of the fight that was about to take place, so he devoted his full attention to Jessica and Sverre.
“You — stop that,” he ordered Jessica, raising his rifle stock.
She flipped up, wrapping the cord linking her ankles around the back of his head. Yanking downward, she flipped him forward. He toppled over her chair. By the time he had regained his senses, she stomped his head, shattering his helmet’s faceplate. He groaned in pain, unable to move. Searching his body, she found the control device to her shackles. A few seconds later, she was free. “Let’s go!”
They raced to the side door, which Janir held.
“Can we get out?” Sverre asked.
“No, there are several guards on the other side, and I hear more coming. I…I don’t think this door will last much longer,” Janir answered, fear in his voice.
“What was the game plan here?” Sverre asked.
“Varulf said we were going to either kill Tarja or Dragos or die trying,” Janir admitted.
“Some plan. Even if you killed either one of them, I think the ‘die’ part was going to get worked in there at some point. Any ideas, Jess?”
“The hallways are flooded with enemies. There’s no way back out, except…” she said, looking at the wall directly behind Varulf and Dragos.
“We don’t even know if there’s an escape route back there, or how to open it,” he countered.
“Look at the throne. There’s exposed wiring in the wreckage. I’d wager it was designed to ride a track back into the wall where an escape hatch is. I can probably complete the circuit to activate it if we can get those monsters away from there for a moment.”
“I don’t think we are going to get those two to do anything they don’t want to do,” Sverre observed, in awe of the battle between the two titans.
“Our chances of survival just increased exponentially due to these werewolves. We need to take advantage of this situation,” Jessica responded, cautiously moving toward the rear of the room.
“The female is correct. I will help you if I can, whelp,” Varulf said, slashing at Dragos with his claws.
Dragos avoided the attack easily. “Do you really think I am not in complete control of this situation? Varulf is like a small child to me. No one is leaving.” To prove his point, the vampire lord flicked his hand as if waving away a fly. The edge of his blow caught Varulf under his chin. A split second later, the imposing beast bounced off of the high stone ceiling before crashing hard into several of the chairs. He struggled to rise again.
“You’ve…grown stronger,” Varulf said, wiping away a long strand of bloodied saliva from his muzzle.
“As I said. Now, if you’ll die quietly, I can tidy up here. I have guests waiting. Tarja in particular can be very impatient, as I’m sure you are aware.”
Varulf stiffened at the mention of the traitorous name. He flung himself back at the vampire lord without care. The sound of the deafening blows vibrated through Sverre’s body. It reminded him of being close to the speakers at a concert.
“Isn’t there anything we can do to help him?” he asked Jessica. She stared at the fight intently, trying to find an opening to make a break for the destroyed chair’s wiring.
“We must remain away from them. Although neither wishes us immediate harm, one stray blow would cripple or kill us instantly,” she replied without looking away from the fight. “I don’t think we are going to gain any more fortune today.”
An explosion rocked the castle. The two combatants paused, listening.
“Is this your doing, dog?” Dragos hissed. Machine gun fire resounded outside the walls. The faint sound of men shouting could be heard.
“You know such methods are not mine,” Varulf responded, his ears twitching as he focused on listening. Varulf turned toward Sverre. “I believe your friends have come for you.”
***
Outside the castle, Izzy shouted at the pilot of the aircraft, “Keep it steady! I can’t hit jack shit with you jerking all over the place!”
“Sorry, but we’ve got about twenty hostiles shooting the heck out of us. Or should I have let that RPG blow us out of the sky?”
“Just shut your trap and keep circling,” she said. The side of the aircraft was open. She lay flat, her sniper rifle picking off a new target every few seconds. Hoss manned an armored minigun, raining down thousands of glowing tracer rounds upon the castle’s courtyard and battlements. The aircraft whirled around the building in sweeping arcs, obliterating everything visible. Opposite Izzy’s craft, another gunship attacked in a similar manner. The castle was bombarded from two sides simultaneously. A police chopper approached, only to spiral away after being struck by a device that disrupted its electrical systems.
Hoss halted his fire for a second, turning to Izzy. “It’s going to get real hot up here, real fast. The Order’s probably going to show up in about ten or fifteen minutes, then there’s the cops and news choppers.”
Izzy flipped over to her side and began typing furiously onto a laptop. It was wired directly into a large focusing dish under the aircraft. “Looks like their security systems are going to be down at least another thirty minutes. Luckily, my Izzy Special gives me a pipeline directly into their systems, or hacking this place would be just about impossible. I’m downloading their building schematics now.”
Several bullets struck the inside of the craft, causing her to duck.
“Hoss, get your ass in gear!” she shouted. “Okay, attempting to locate our boy now.” The dish under the aircraft began sweeping across the castle. “I’ve got him. Move us over to the west wall and get ready to open that wall up.”
The aircraft swung around, getting into position. Izzy entered the cockpit with the laptop. Taking control of a joystick, she looked back and forth between the laptop and the screen in front of her. She moved the joystick around, clicking a red button at intervals. A dot appeared on the screen each time she did so. After a few seconds, she had drawn a circular pattern on the castle’s wall on the screen. She hit the button one more time, then squeezed the fire trigger. A pod under the aircraft opened wide, revealing two dozen holes. Each fired a thin tube at the wall. The tubes released clamping hooks which dug into the hard stone immediately upon making contact. A dozen drill bits bored into the stone in unison. Once the final bit was through, a foam was injected into each hole.
“Fire in the hole!” Izzy shouted, hitting the detonator. The blinding white flashes of the muffled explosions lit up the night before the wall crumbled away, falling toward the streets and sidewalks below. “That’s going to sting. Hope the gunfire scared all the idiots away.” She waited impatiently for the dust to clear. She wasn’t sure what to make of the sight before her.
The room was a throne room of some type. It looked like it was already partially wrecked. At the center of it were Varulf and a drop-dead-gorgeous vampire she assumed was Dragos. Then she saw him. “Sverre!” she shouted, running back to the open door in the aircraft. “Get us closer!”
“You were saying something about our fortune changing?” Sverre said, smiling at Jessica.
“These are friends of yours, I assume?” she asked.
“Yeah. But I don’t understand how they found us. Even the Order couldn’t find this place.”
; “It probably has something to do with that device you gave me, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yeah, Izzy said it phoned home when you activated it. I bet that’s how she did it.”
“Izzy? What’s an Izzy?”
“You’ll see. We’ve got to get over there.”
Dragos grabbed a small piece of rubble from the ground. “I cannot explain how angry I am at the moment. My favorite throne lies at my feet in pieces. The ancestral stones of my castle have been destroyed. I believe what hurts me most is that everyone in this room thinks so little of me.” With blinding speed, he flung the rubble at Izzy’s aircraft, striking it squarely in one of the thrusters. The craft wobbled, threatening to fall from the sky.
“Holy shit, he just tore through the armor plating like it was nothing,” Izzy cried, looking up at the gaping hole in disbelief.
Dragos bent down to retrieve another projectile. Varulf leapt toward him, tumbling into the vampire, bowling him over. After a brief scuffle, they rose with Varulf’s arms looped under Dragos’ arms, holding him in place from behind.
“Go now, boy! I will hold him!” the fearsome beast shouted, straining to hold the limitless power of the vampire lord.
Sverre and Jessica dashed across the room, frantically heading for their one chance of escape. The aircraft bucked and wobbled. Smoke poured from the damaged thruster.
“Hold it steady!” Izzy shouted, motioning to Sverre.
“You’re lucky we’re still in the air. I can’t hold it much longer!” the pilot shouted back.
Sverre and Jessica reached the edge of the room. The floor crumbled off into oblivion. “Whoa!” Sverre shouted, pulling Jessica back.
“It’s too unstable,” Jessica observed, analyzing the floor at their feet. “Can you toss us a rope?” she shouted at the people in the aircraft.
“No time for a rope, Jess. Here, climb into my hands,” Sverre said, cupping his hands on top of his knee. “I’ll flip you across.”
Jessica stepped onto his hands, crouching low. “Three…two…one!” she shouted, timing her leap with his action. Sverre heaved, flinging her through the air. She landed inside of the pitching aircraft easily, rolling to her feet.
Stepping back several paces, Sverre expertly cleared the distance as well. His form was similar to that of an Olympic long jumper, although he needed less runway to make his jump. Jessica wondered if any of the spirits within him had competed at some point throughout the ages.
Dragos’ face twisted in fury at the events transpiring before him. “No!” he screamed with such intensity that Sverre winced. The aircraft pulled away from the building, gaining altitude slowly due to the damaged thruster.
Dragos flung his head back with such rage and power, Varulf’s muzzle snapped with a sickening crunch. Several teeth skittered across the floor. Not even the monstrous wolf could ignore such a blow. Clutching his shattered muzzle, he was unable to contain Dragos any longer. The vampire dashed to the broken wall, but the aircraft was too far away.
He turned back toward Varulf and bellowed, “Cur, I would have liked for you to suffer, but my anger will find release. I will reacquire the boy shortly, but my grand night is ruined.”
Varulf smiled, blood dripping from his still-mending muzzle. “Lord Dragos, it gives me great pleasure to bring you this humiliation.”
Dragos moved too quickly for even Varulf’s keen senses to track. He struck the wolf once, sending him sailing toward a wall. He matched the speed of the wolf’s limp flying body, striking a dozen blows before Varulf impacted the wall. The vampire continued his onslaught, effectively using the large wolf as a punching bag. A red jet of blood erupted high into the air as every ounce of air was pounded out of Varulf’s lungs. Most of his ribs shattered. Several of his internal organs ruptured. All in less than a second.
“Varulf!” Olavi shouted, leaving his post to rush to his leader’s side.
“No. Escape,” Varulf whispered. His fractured body flailed under the thunderous blows.
“We won’t leave you, sire!” Janir said. He wished to help but was held back by fear. He remained at the doorway, although there was no reason to stay. The shouts and cries of the guards no longer rang out through the halls. The attack on the castle had either killed most of them or caused them to flee. Janir opened the door with caution, then fled.
“Janir! Get back here, you coward!” Olavi shouted.
“Go…with,” Varulf gurgled, blood frothing from his mouth. His body’s natural healing power couldn’t keep up with the barrage he was suffering.
Olavi and Abraham looked at each other, then headed for the door Janir had used. Olavi paused again, gripping the door, torn. After a moment, he escaped as well.
“After you are dead, I will hunt them down. I could have ended you already, but I find this activity to be very therapeutic,” Dragos explained.
***
“So, I had to pull your ass out of the fire again. Some bodyguard you turned out to be. Maybe you should be paying me,” Izzy smiled, looking up at Sverre.
“I can’t believe you came back for me. How’d you convince Drake to let you borrow two of his aircraft?” Sverre marveled.
Izzy frowned before responding. “I let him keep half the money from the job we pulled at the Farm. Plus, I had some help convincing him.” She nodded toward Hoss.
Sverre slapped the large man on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t think you’d be that attached to me after one mission.”
“I try to repay my debts as they accrue, Mr. Walker,” Hoss replied, grinning. “Valkyrie and Mercury wished to come, but I wouldn’t allow it. They need to recuperate.”
“Would you care to explain who these people are, Sverre?” Jessica interjected.
Sverre looked at Izzy, unsure of what to say to Jessica about the group. They were mortal enemies, after all. Talk about having conflicts between circles of friends.
“I’m Izzy, and these are the boys. I hope you appreciate Sverre comin’ back here to rescue you,” Izzy said, eyeing up Jessica from head to toe. “Frankly, I’m not sure what he sees in you. After you left him hanging in Inquest One, that is.”
“I’ll have you know that I tried…” Jessica began arguing, but Sverre was staring at the fight between Varulf and Dragos, tuning out the discussion. Involuntary yelps of pain carried across the night sky as the aircraft very slowly moved away from the castle.
“Wait!” Sverre shouted. Everyone in the aircraft turned.
“What is it? Are you worried about your mother? Order agents are about five minutes out. She is most likely still in the processing center,” Jessica offered.
“No. Go back. Go back now.”
“We can’t go back after we just —” Izzy said, trying to figure out what he was doing.
“Please, go back,” he begged.
Izzy traveled up front for a moment, then returned. The airship changed direction.
“What are you doing, Sverre?” Jessica asked.
“I’ve got to help him. I’m not going to leave him like that.”
“Who? Varulf? Why the holy hell would you go back for him? He’s the one who kidnapped you from the start!” Izzy exclaimed.
“He…wanted to do the right thing. He tried to help us. He only wanted to help his people,” Sverre stumbled, attempting to make sense of it himself. Was this a decision he was making, or was he driven by those within him? Either way, it was suicide.
Jessica grabbed his shoulder, twisting him to face her. “I can’t allow you to do this. If Dragos gains access to you again, it could be just as he said: the end of the world as we know it. I forbid you from —” she stated before crumpling to the floor, unconscious. Izzy stood behind her, flexing her hand.
“She does prattle on, doesn’t she?” she asked with a grin.
“I’m one hundred percent sure I’d rather face Dragos than Jess when she wakes up,” Sverre said. “What did you do to her?”
“Maybe one day I’ll tell you. She’s goin’ to nap for a fe
w minutes. For now, go kick that vampire’s ass,” Izzy smiled, handing him a satchel.
Sverre glanced into the bag, nodding with satisfaction. “Thanks for everything, Izz,” he said, holding out his fist. She tapped his outstretched hand with her own fist before replying, “I’ve got your back.”
Backflipping without looking behind him, he landed twenty feet inside the throne room. Izzy shook her head, wondering if he was the one she should have incapacitated. “Pull back and wait to see what he can do,” she said, swapping out the magazine in her rifle.
***
Varulf shuddered at Dragos’ feet, quivering involuntarily. Barely recognizable now, his one functioning eye turned toward Sverre. “F-fool,” he gasped.
“It takes great courage to sacrifice one’s life for the betterment of others, Sverre,” Dragos said, turning to face the young man. “It speaks volumes about your character that you came back to save mankind from itself. I will see to it that you are honored for generations to come. An entire citadel will be built honoring you.”
Sverre shook his head before assuming a fighting stance. “Nah, I just can’t stand cruelty to animals.”
“We’ve really got to work on his one-liners,” Izzy said, shaking her head.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“I haven’t fought one of your kind in a long time. It will be interesting to see how much stronger the vessel has grown since then,” Dragos said, sauntering toward Sverre.
A submachine gun appeared in Sverre’s hand as if pulled from thin air. Sweeping the gun across the room, he unleashed a hail of bullets with a braaaaaap. Dragos was an impossible target, darting randomly about the room. His speed was unbelievable. Regardless, Sverre was sure several rounds had found their target.
“You are a magnificent marksman. A credit to the soldiers who inhabit you, and your own reflexes,” Dragos remarked once the gun had run out of ammunition. He tossed several bullets to the floor, then pried a few deformed rounds from his flesh, where they had lodged without penetrating.
