Bigby cursed to himself as the trio walked to the front of the house and he heard the jingling of keys. “They’ll have the fence done shortly, but this is just a model home. You’ll be able to see the layout and pick and choose exactly how you want your own unit finished out.”
Bigby slipped down the hallway and into a bedroom. He contemplated his options. He could exit from a bedroom window and work his way around the rear of the green field to another area where he might be able to steal another vehicle. He could kill the trio, take the SUV and pray that none of the work crew outside noticed. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the outcome of each option. He knew that even if he evaded the invaders, it was only a matter of time before they looked in the garage and saw his stolen car.
Bigby heard the trio walk through the living area and into the kitchen. If he were going to make a break for it, he’d have to cross to the other side of the house now, while they were preoccupied.
Big glanced out the bedroom door then slipped silently to the bedroom across from where he was. He shut the door behind himself and went to the window. Lifting the glass, he pushed the screen out and slipped out to the back yard. He pulled the window shut then replaced the screen. Keeping low, he made his way to the corner of the house.
Bigby stepped out from behind the house and walked purposefully toward the road. He glanced back once and noted that nobody came running from the property, no shouts of alarm. He paused by one of the trucks parked by the front of the property and waited. After about five minutes, the trio walked out, and the three talked, the salesman pointing out different aspects of the property. Big watched from his vantage and wondered if they had ever entered the garage. Had they not seen his stolen car?
He shook his head at the unwitting trio as they stepped back into the SUV and backed out of the driveway. He stood near the back of the truck and watched as the black vehicle drove away. Did he dare risk going back for the car? What if they got the plate and reported it? What if they returned with the authorities? If he’d had his weapons, he wouldn’t care.
Bigby sighed heavily and leaned against the truck. He considered possibly stealing one of the numerous work trucks parked around the site, but construction workers tended to keep a close eye on their tools and those tools were stored in their trucks.
“Looks like I’m walking.”
He turned and worked his way back toward the main road. He’d find a stop and go gas station or fast food place to pick up his next ride. He glanced at his watch and realized, he’d better do it quickly. He still had to scout out a new base of operation.
*****
Kalen pressed his ear to the door and listened intently. Once he was assured that there was no movement in the hall and that Brooke was still asleep, he pulled the door open and stepped out. He was nearly knocked over by her returning from the ladies showers, her dark hair still dripping and her robe pulled tight around her pale body.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Kalen stammered as he tried to step to the side.
Brooke paused and lowered her eyes to the floor, her hand clutching the ends of her robe and pulling it tighter to herself. “Excuse me.” Her voice was like a whisper, but seemed to echo in the empty corridor.
Kalen stepped aside and allowed her to pass. He tried not to watch her as she walked quickly to her room and slipped inside. He released the breath he had been holding and felt faint. He leaned against the wall and stared after her.
“Are you okay? You look pale.”
Kalen spun to see Azrael and Gnat staring at him, concern etched across their features. He nodded absently. “Yes, I am fine. I just…” He turned and stared down the hallway again. “I was just wondering if we should bother to get Raven for morning meal.”
Azrael shrugged. “She is vampire. I doubt they serve fresh blood at the banquet hall.”
Kalen nodded absently, his eyes still glued to her door. “Perhaps you are right.” He felt Azrael lay a hand on his shoulder and pull him gently toward the stairs.
“Come, dine with us and regale us with tales of your conquests on the battlefield.”
Kalen turned to him and gave him a confused look. “Yes, and you as well.”
Gnat grunted as the two took the lead. “Nobody cares about my conquests. I may as well stay under the table and eat the crumbs you two drop.”
Azrael nodded. “As you wish, Gnome.” He pushed open the doors to the stairwell and held it for the two others. “It might be best if you did. I doubt they have chairs tall enough for you to reach the table.”
Gnat drew a dagger as the two larger warriors disappeared into the darkness of the stairs. “Perhaps I’ll start with a slab of Gargoyle.”
*****
Lilith slid her robes over her shoulders and stepped out to the warehouse. She felt Samael’s presence more than saw him. His shadow covered her from behind and she felt comforted by his closeness.
The pair watched as scores of demons entered the large overhead doors and milled about, preparing to be addressed by their queen. Many had begun to form up in ranks, lining up in columns and rows while others stayed in small groups, making small talk.
Lilith began to step forward when she noticed that the demons seemed to be frozen in place, none speaking. None were moving. None so much as blinked their eyes as they stood at attention. She turned back to Samael who was staring upward.
“What’s happening?” A cold chill settled upon her as an unearthly green glow began shining throughout the warehouse. “What’s going on, Samael?”
“My brother.” His face curled into a grimace as his hands clenched into fists and he set his feet. She noted that his great muscles were taunt as if ready to strike and she felt that familiar tugging in her loins. His arm shot forward and pulled her back behind him. “Do not look directly at him until he has made himself known.”
“Why would—” A brilliant flash of green light reflected off of all of the metallic surfaces, intensifying the magnificence of it. She slid behind Samael’s wing and hid her face in his back. “Tell me when it’s over.”
A strange voice boomed throughout the warehouse. “It is over. You may come out now, little mouse.”
“State your purpose, brother.” Samael stiffened even more as he held Lilith behind him.
She cast a furtive glance from around Samael’s arm and her eyes went wide with wonder. She spied the most brilliant of creatures…one that rivaled Samael in beauty and size, his armor glimmering as if aglow in the dim interior of the warehouse. The large, white feathered wings stretched out and flexed silently as the creature stepped toward her lover.
“I have come to warn you, brother. Nothing more.”
“Then state your warning and be gone.” Samael puffed out his chest and flexed his own wings, spreading them out behind him like a large black dragon.
“Oh, brother. What has become of you?” The angel tsk’d as he stepped closer. He paused and cast a disapproving eye at the Samael.
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with, I assure you.” Samael pushed Lilith further behind him, blocking her view. “Say what you intend to say, Azazel.”
The large angel sighed and Lilith could smell the most heavenly of scents, as if fresh breads were baking, smothered in honey and cinnamon. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting her ears cherish the sound of his voice as he spoke.
“Samael, you and your little war party are in danger.”
“I highly doubt that, brother.”
Azazel sighed and stepped closer. “While you may have chosen to stand against the Father, you were, and are still, my brother, Samael. He may have disowned you, but that doesn’t change who we are.”
“It changes what we stand for.”
Azazel shook his head and leaned against a large concrete pillar supporting the roof. “Samael, whether you believe me or not, it is so. Abaddon has seen it.”
Samael snapped to attention, his brows knitted in worry as he studied Azazel. “Swear it.”
> “Do I have to, brother? I came all this way to carry his word to you.”
“Swear it or it isn’t so!” Samael growled, his fists clenched so tight that Lilith started with fright.
“I swear it. By the Father, by Abaddon’s word, by my love for you, I swear it to be so.” The look of pain and dejection on Azazel’s face told Samael more than his words ever did.
“Then tell me Abaddon’s vision.” His body relaxed and he stepped away from Lilith, his wings draping off of her as he moved forward.
The two stepped to the far end of the warehouse, and Lilith slowly moved closer, tilting her head to listen to the conversation. “Abaddon has seen the upcoming battle and your attempt at placing your whore at the throne of Earth. It will fail.”
“It cannot fail. I have given her a legion of demons.” Samael stood tall, his shoulders squared.
“Aye brother, you have. But your efforts will fail. You will achieve only in being banished from this realm once more and having your lovely demoness torn to shreds once again. Your legion will be killed and…”
“Impossible! They are demons. They cannot be killed!” Samael crossed his arms in defiance and glared at Azazel.
Azazel sighed heavily and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Aye, brother, they can be killed. And they will be.”
“How? I tell you, it is impossible.”
“Angelic weapons. From the Battle of the Fall. They are stored here on Earth. And Gabriel has told a non-human where they are stored. She has put in place a team of warriors, young at heart…”
“No…” Samael’s eyes widened. “The prophecy.”
“Yes, my brother. The prophecy. Warriors five, young at heart, with angel swords and armor marked…”
Samael swallowed hard and nodded. “They’ll hunt by night with all their might, ‘til the lands be cleansed of the Darkness’ plight.” He turned and faced Azazel once more. “Have these warriors laid claim to the angelic weapons yet?”
“I honestly do not know, but Abaddon has seen that their location will be revealed to their benefactor.” Azazel crossed his arms and studied Samael. “And since none but Gabriel and Rafael know where the weapons cache are…”
“And neither are likely to tell either of us,” Samael growled in frustration.
“They definitely won’t tell you, Samael. You’re a Fallen brother.”
Samael turned slowly to him. “But you’re not.”
“I wouldn’t even try. They’re both Archangels.”
“So?”
“So there’s no deceiving an Archangel. They can see right through the attempts.” Azazel shook his head. “I’m sorry, brother, but you’re on your own with that endeavor.”
He turned to leave and Samael grabbed his wrist. “You’re in this with me, brother. You brought word of Abaddon’s visions. If the Archangels discover your treachery, your life isn’t worth a bucket of warm piss.”
Azazel smiled as he pulled his arm free. “It was Michael that sent me.”
Samael’s eyes widened at the name. “Why would Michael, of all angels, send you to warn me?”
“In an effort to prevent innocent blood from being shed. Nothing else.”
Samael opened his mouth to continue the argument when Azazel vanished in a flash of green light. He stared at the spot where his brother once stood and trembled. “If the angels on high want me to stop, then perhaps we’re on to something greater than we imagined.”
4
Mark paced outside the small outbuilding where the clean-up crews incinerated the biological waste. He checked his watch for the twelfth or thirteenth time when the outer door opened and a technician in a white biohazard suit stepped out. He removed his oversized helmet and tucked it under his arm. “We checked every body in there against the stack of pictures you gave us, Major. The only match was ex-Major Sheridan.” The man handed a clipboard to Mark who stared at it as though it were infected.
“You can burn that, too.” Mark took a half step back and eyed the man warily. “You’re absolutely certain?”
“We double checked, sir. The only one was Sheridan, and all of the bodies have finished shifting back to their human forms. There was no mistaking the idents.”
Mark hung his head as he turned. “Great. There’s no telling how many may still be out there.”
“Sir?” The tech stepped toward him, concern across his features.
“Nothing, sergeant. I was just hoping that those men were with the bodies, that’s all.”
“I can’t make that happen, Major, but I bet we both know the guys who can.” The tech gave him a knowing grin.
“We have to track them down first.” Mark spun and headed back to the hangar, his mind racing. “Where the hell are your other players, Sheridan?”
“What other players?” Jack asked as he approached Tufo.
“Jack. I’m sorry, I was just talking to myself.”
“Well, when you need expert opinions, who better to turn, to, right Major?” Jack turned and walked alongside him. “I was looking for you to ask a favor, but if you’re having issues with Sheridan.”
“Sheridan is dead. They’re disposing of his remains now.” Mark hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. But I heard you mention his name and something about other players?”
Mark stopped and considered having to rehash the entire situation again. He knew that Jack and Sheridan were friends at one time. Perhaps he had the insight to assist? “Feel like listening to a hell of a theory?”
“I’m all ears.” Jack fell into step as Mark headed for his office. “But I do have a favor to ask.”
“Spill it.”
“Since you’re still technically in charge of training, I was going to ask if I could borrow Jacobs and Lamb to help train my pups.”
Mark nodded. “Have them home before midnight or they turn into pumpkins.” He held the door as Jack went through. The two worked their way through the workstations and to the elevators. “What’s the word on these ‘other’ operators of yours?”
Jack shrugged. “Beats me, Major. Word came down from the Wyldwood, and since we’re sort of beholding to her, I’m stuck on babysitting duty.”
The door to the elevator opened on the admin level and Mark held it for him. “I didn’t realize they were all so young. I guess it’s sort of hard to tell.”
“Tell me about it. Who would have thought that a teenage gnome would have a beard hanging to his waist?” Jack cracked a grin as he opened the door to Mark’s office. “So, tell me this theory of yours.”
Mark explained the discovery of Sheridan and his missing mates from Team One while Jack listened intently. Once the pieces were laid out and put together, the two had an even clearer understanding. “It sounds like Sheridan was a busy guy while he was supposed to be in WitSec.”
“And we have at least two missing team members. Possibly a third, but they did find…well, something that could have been remains.” Mark leaned back in his chair and studied Jack. “What’s your gut tell you, Chief?”
Jack closed his eyes and tried to put himself in Sheridan’s shoes. “Honestly, I think you’re right that any that wouldn’t join his little merry band of misfits were probably erased. Now, whether he would leave a body to be found…I highly doubt that.”
Mark sat up and leaned across his desk. “Why? I mean, if he’s going to kill them, why not leave the body? That way there’d be no doubting that they were dead.”
“True, but if the body wasn’t ‘killed’ in action as originally thought, then Team One would know that somebody was targeting their men. Specifically, the men that Sheridan worked with and supposedly trusted.”
“I have to give you that one. I guess I’m not used to thinking like a bad guy.”
“I’m not either, but try to imagine you’re a double agent or that you’ve infiltrated the bad guys. You have to assume the same line of thinking or you’re dead. Sheridan had to live like that for…wha
t? Six months or more?”
“True.” Mark sat back again and tried to wrap his mind around Sheridan and his actions. “So what is his end game?”
“Truthfully? Knowing Sheridan, it’s all about the money. My opinion is he was a hired gun.”
“We sort of knew that. This Simmons guy hired him to attack both us and you.” Mark shook his head. “I’m still not sure why they’d attack you though.”
Jack sighed heavily. “That would be because of Apollo if I had to guess. He would want anybody that his twisted mind blamed for Maria…for not telling him about Maria and the Padre.” Jack shook his head. “I still can’t wrap my mind around that one, Major.”
“I don’t think anybody really saw that one coming.” He poured a cup of coffee and offered Jack one. “But regardless, Sheridan pulls Apollo into the fold so now he has to fight Apollo’s battles in order to gain his trust. And all of this is so he can get a payday?”
Jack nodded. “Sounds about right to me.”
“Okay. Then what about his operators that he recruited from Team One? Are they in it for the money as well?”
“That and some misguided sense of responsibility to the officer that led them through the fires of hell.” Jack sipped the coffee and reclined on the couch. “Look, I can’t begin to try and figure out how these guys are all thinking, but I’m betting that Sheridan probably sold them all a bill of goods. Probably told them about the augmentation and how they were sold down the river by queen and country. Whatever. The end result is the same. Those who would follow him, did. Those who wouldn’t, died.”
“Were murdered,” Mark corrected.
“Their ticket got punched.” Jack set the coffee cup down and eyed the man cautiously. “Same result. They’re out of the game.”
“So, can you think of a way that we can figure out which operators might still be working with him?”
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