He whistled a little tune to himself as he walked through the warehouse and inspected everything. So little silver had been salvaged that they would have to import more to be able to create their rounds. That would take time; time he didn’t want to spend, but it had to be done. He couldn’t risk sending the men out into town and have them buy up silver trinkets to be melted down.
He walked by the lathe and studied the milled bullets that had already been fashioned. Milled from a silver rod, the shavings caught and melted down to create another rod, the rounds had grooves milled into them that would allow them to break apart once they hit a solid object. He had seen a similar design made of brass a few years earlier and the idea stayed with him. He didn’t mind stealing it. It was one helluva idea. It was called a Trident PFP round and he’d seen the damage it could do first hand.
He ran his hand across the mill and felt the warmth radiating up from the machine. It had been well used the past few hours. Now to get more silver and form more rods…
Bigby spun on his heel and marched back to the office. There were places that offered precious metals in just about every form you could possibly desire. Surely somewhere, somebody offered it as a solid rod. The time saved from having to create their own would be worth the added expense.
Lifting the lid on his computer he opened a web browser. “Well, they say that Google is my friend…”
*****
Mick paced the grounds outside the hangar, his mind racing. How could she have done that? How could she have mated with this guy? She just met him! The disgust and pain rallied in his mind, each vying to take over his dominant thoughts.
Mick paused and stared at the sky, his heart hammering in his chest. “Oh no.” His legs went out from under him and he sat staring, his weak mind just realizing what her coupling with Colonel Mitchell truly meant. “I have to call Walter. He needs to know!”
Mick dug through his pockets and pulled the satellite phone out. It still had half a charge when he punched the power button. He scrolled through his contact list and mashed the button for Walter Simmons. As the phone rang, Mick paced the parking lot. His eyes darted to and fro frantically. When the call was answered, he nearly shouted, “Hello! Hello? Mr. Simmons? This is Mick.”
Mick waited for Walter Simmons to finish chewing his ass before he continued, “Mr. Simmons, there was no stopping her. They were going to hop a commercial flight. All I could do was find a way to tag along and…” He paused and listened to the man rant and rave about how a real man would have found a way to stop her. Finally, Mick had enough of being belittled. He clenched his jaw and gripped the phone a little too tightly. “I was just calling to let you know that it’s too late. She mated with the son of a bitch.”
Mick punched the end call button before Walter Simmons could begin a new tirade. He stared at the satellite phone and debated calling the old man back just to tell him to go to Hell. Instead, he squeezed the plastic case until it crushed in his hand, bits and pieces of the phone falling to the ground.
He stared into the sky once more and growled a deep, low growl. He bent low and threw the phone as far as he could. Mick stood and watched as the pieces disappeared from sight then turned and headed back toward the hangar.
She may have rejected him. She may have chosen another over him. She may have even tied her life to this asshole. But that was no reason to let her die just because her father was an ass. She needed to be warned that he was still on the attack…and her life was in just as much peril as her new mates was.
*****
“My queen.” The demon bowed deeply and kept his eyes to the floor.
Lilith turned slowly and studied the man dressed as a security guard. “Report.” She turned back to her maps and schedules, her mind on everything except the man at her door.
“Our sentinels that have been watching the human hunters? They have nothing to report.” The demon remained prostrate, his eyes purposely avoiding hers.
“So? Why come to me if there is no news?”
“That’s just it, my queen. If our reports are to be believed, then they surely have been informed of the cache. They would have sent people out to find them.” The demon began to quiver as it spoke. “It is the belief of our sentinels that the human hunters were never told of the weapons cache. They believe that perhaps the supernaturals plan to handle this themselves.”
Lilith stood slowly and strode to the doorway where the demon was now practically laying on the ground, his hands trembling visibly. “The sentinels concluded this? As if somebody gave them permission to think for themselves?”
“Apologies, my queen. I am merely the messenger.” The demon backed away slowly, his eyes never rising to meet hers.
“Who are these sentinels that we have sent to watch the human hunters?” She placed her foot on the demon’s arm to stop him from moving.
The man shook his head vigorously. “I do not know, my queen. I was only sent to report to you.”
“You were a centurion for how long? You should act like it!” She kicked at the man and sent him sprawling.
The man turned his head, refusing to meet her eye. “Word has spread throughout the legion, my queen. You vanquished one of us for not working hard enough…nobody else wishes to be vanquished.”
Lilith stared at the man trembling on the floor and smiled to herself. “How is it that you were sent to deliver this message to me?”
The man crawled to his knees and hung his head low. “We drew lots, my queen.” His jaw trembled as he spoke. “I lost.”
“Yet, you drew lots with the others, yes?”
The demon nodded his head. “I had little choice.”
Lilith willed him to rise. “And yet here you are.” She lifted his chin with her finger until his eyes met hers. “What are you to me, centurion?”
“I am your humble servant, my queen.”
“Stop kissing my ass, soldier. What are you to me?” Her voice took on a hard edge and finally the Roman squared his shoulders and faced her, looking her square in the eye.
“I am your right hand, my queen. You meter of fate. I am your deliverer of pain and regret. I am your servant. My life is yours.”
Lilith stepped back and gave him a wicked smile. “That’s much better. I prefer my soldiers to have backbone.”
“I wished only to avoid being vanquished, my queen.” He met her eyes and she actually took a half step back. “To be sent back to Hell is one thing, but to be sent back as a victim instead of a servant? Intolerable.”
Lilith nodded, understanding now what she had unwittingly done to the other centurion. “And now, what are you to me?”
“I am yours, my queen. To do with as you please. I am Death.”
“Very good.” She clapped her hands slowly. “Go back and tell the men you drew lots with that you are now their commander. Form your own unit of these cowards and beat some bravery into them. Do you think you can do that, commander?”
“As you will, my queen.”
*****
The door pushed open into one of the many briefing rooms inside the CIA Headquarters building in Langley, Virginia. A haggard looking man dropped a stack of files onto the table then turned and greeted the two stoic individuals already seated. “So sorry I’m late. I forgot a couple of these files and…” He stared at the two men whose disdain for the analyst was palpable. “Right. Well, I knew you’d want them all, so…here they are.” He pulled a chair out and sat down, sliding the files to the side.
“How long did it take you to acquire this information?” the older gentleman at the head of the table asked.
The analyst glanced at the stack of files and gave a slight shrug. “Actually, it took a while. This information was not easy to come by. You do realize that they keep everything locked down tight there. They have no servers connected to the outside so attempting to breach a firewall or do a brute force attack is nearly—”
“We know.” The younger gentleman stated. He stood and clicked a button
on a remote causing the lights to dim. An overhead projector came on and he began clicking through slides. “We at the NSA have been investigating this group for some time now. We had some data sent to us from a now dead Senator that triggered the investigation.”
The analyst watched as the slides flashed images on the screen, and he turned to face the other men. “From what I gather, these guys actually think they’re hunting bogeymen. Like there are some kind of monsters out there hiding in the dark, and it’s their personal mission to waste taxpayer money to hunt them down.” He chuckled as he glanced from man to man. Neither man showed any humor on their faces.
“The CIA has been working hand-in-hand with the NSA and the DIA to dig up what we can on this group, but so far…it hasn’t been much. That’s what we need you to do.” The older man leaned across the table and turned a stern stare toward the young analyst.
“I-I know, sir. And I’ve been working diligently at this for quite some time.” He slid the files over and spread them out before the two men. “These are the men that have been chosen from the field and reutilized within the group over the last six years. As you can see, there are quite a few that are dead. If you ask me, they probably drank too much and it was marked as a training accident to protect their reputations as Special Forces operators.”
The NSA representative thumbed through the files then dropped them absently on the table. “They didn’t drink too much.”
“Well, whatever the cause, I doubt they were actually killed in battle. None were ever redeployed to a known combat zone while they were assigned to…”
“Key words there, son—known combat zone. These men died in the field, in battle.” The CIA director tossed the files he was perusing onto the table and motioned back toward the screen. “Keep watching.”
The NSA assistant director clicked through more slides until images of beings with fangs appeared. Other images of what could only be described as ‘monsters’ flashed before their eyes. The analyst stared in wide eyed wonder at some of the images, many apparently were stills taken from helmet cameras. “This can’t be real. These things don’t exist.” He pointed anxiously at the screen.
“Yes, they do. We’ve verified it ourselves.” The CIA director sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “What I want to know is why weren’t we told?”
The analyst shook his head. “Sir, I didn’t know. I don’t think anybody did. Otherwise you would have gotten a full briefing.”
The NSA assistant director placed both hands on the table and leaned toward the analyst. “Cat’s out of the bag now. We want everything that can be dug up on these assholes.”
The analyst swallowed hard and nodded. “I can do that.” He pushed away from the table then paused. “I have to ask though…why did you show me this? Surely it’s classified above my current clearance.”
The NSA assistant director glanced at the CIA director. The older man nodded, giving permission. The assistant director turned to the analyst and stated simply, “So you wouldn’t discount the extraordinary.”
“Sir?”
The CIA director stood and walked toward the door. “Stevens, if you ran across anything to do with these guys, and it had the words ‘monster’, ‘vampire’, ‘werewolf’…any of those key words attached to it, what would you do?”
The analyst nodded. “I’d discount it as a redirect, sir.”
“Exactly. Now you know what you’re dealing with. I want everything.” He opened the door for the analyst who slipped through, forgetting his files as he left.
Director Jameson sat back down and slid the files across the table. “What do you think, Robert? Will he be able to dig up anything on these guys?”
Robert Ingram sat back down and picked up the file for one Colonel Matthew Mitchell. For being a full bird colonel, the file was awfully thin. “He’s supposed to be the best at digging up what doesn’t exist. If it’s out there, he’ll find it.”
Director Jameson leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “What the hell has the world come to that we have men out there hunting monsters?”
“The monsters brought it upon themselves. They should have stayed in the shadows. Like we do.” Ingram dropped the file and stood to leave. “Let me know when he finds anything.”
“And you let me know when your super soldier is online and ready for testing.” Jameson stood and began to stack the files together.
“We should be ready for testing in the next couple of months. Trust me, you’ll be included in the shakedowns.” Ingram winked at the older man as he walked to the door.
“Tell me something, Robert.” Ingram paused and turned back to the older man. “Do you think there’s any truth to the rumors? About what they did to these operators so they could stand against what’s out there?”
Ingram shrugged. “I hope not.” He glanced at the stack of files still on the table. “That’s an awful lot of potentially good soldiers right there.”
“But if it is true…” Jameson trailed off.
Ingram shrugged. “Once the cleansing begins, all monsters will be eradicated.” He opened the door and turned back to Jameson. “Even the ones we created.”
9
Mark rolled off the couch and turned off the alarm on his phone. He stared at the clock on the wall and sighed. He honestly didn’t think he had slept at all. The oddest part was, the fatigue that he had felt earlier was gone. It had been brief, just a fleeting feeling, but he knew he should be tired.
He dug into his pocket and withdrew the black pill and swallowed it then washed it down with cold coffee. He flipped on the lights and squinted for a moment while his eyes adjusted. Mark pulled a clean uniform top from the wardrobe and swapped it out, sniffing the pits of the old one before depositing it in the pile of dirty laundry. He knew it was dirty, but he couldn’t detect anything, scent wise. He fell into his chair and had just flipped on his computer when a knock at his door caught his attention. “Yes?”
The door opened slightly and Evan stuck his head in. “Is this a bad time, Major?”
Mark waved him in. “I was going to come down and see you shortly. I just wanted to catch up on some…”
“I’ve got some news…possibly.” Evan shrugged as he handed a manila envelope to him.
“What’s this?” Mark tugged the end open and slipped out the report.
“Your blood work. I had a sample sent off. I requested the work be expedited.” Evan sat quietly across from him as Mark stared at the cover.
He laid the report down and gave Evan a blank look. “Is this all? Was there anything else?”
“Don’t you want to read it?”
“I’ll read it later when I have more time. Right now, I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.” Mark turned and pulled a folder from his IN basket and began perusing the papers inside, his eyes not truly reading the content.
“But…this could answer everything for you. It could tell you for certain if you were infected with both viruses, or if we need to consider another source for your…”
“Is that all, Doctor?” Mark shot him an angry glare that caught Evan off guard.
Doctor Peters stood and shook his head. “No, that’s all.” He turned for the door and paused. “I’ll see you in my lab within the hour.” He pulled the door shut behind him and left the man to his thoughts.
Mark slammed the file shut and stared at the report. He had no idea why he was so angry. He knew that Evan had run blood work. He knew that those results could be back at any time. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. When he opened them again, the report was in his hand. His eyes scanned the cover page and he found himself turning the page, reading the findings.
*****
“You’re certain that your elder said a Heavenly being told her?” The Guardian sat atop the ledge that Gnat had launched his attack from.
Kalen nodded. “I have no reason to doubt her.” He motioned to the cavern they all now sat in. “How else could we have found this place so easily if s
omeone hadn’t told her exactly where it was?”
The Guardian nodded, his eyes darting to each of the other warriors. “Still, he looks like a demon.”
Kalen chuckled and sat down beside him. “But he has a gentle soul. Especially for one so effective in battle.”
“He is quite strong.” The Guardian nodded to Brooke. “But what of the undead female?”
“She feeds only on animals. She harms no humans.” Kalen held his hand up and made the sign of the Oath Keeper.
“Still, she is vampyre.”
Kalen nodded. “And Chief Jack is werewolf. But he is an honorable man and a great warrior.” He pointed to Gnat who was combing his beard in the reflection of a large shield. “And Gnat is a gnome. A warrior from a clan of warriors, all sworn to protect their people from any harm. And I am Elf. Of the northern Greater Elves.”
The Guardian shook his head and raised a brow at the unlikely assemblage. “My heart tells me you speak the truth, but my bond is to protect these weapons with my life. They shall not leave my sight nor shall they…”
“So come with us.” Jack swung the sword in his hand and marveled at how light it felt. “That way the weapons don’t leave your sight, you keep your word, and when we’re done, the weapons are all returned here.”
“You do not wish to keep them?” The Guardian shot him a disbelieving stare.
Jack shook his head. “Sorry, pal. Swords and crossbows just aren’t my weapon of choice. I prefer things that go bang.”
“But they’re so ineffectual.” The Guardian stood and placed his hands on his hips while he considered Jack’s proposition.
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