“True enough.” He cleared his throat. “I hate to do it, but I need to let you go. Major Tufo is approaching.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you.” Evan hung up the phone just as Mark stepped into his lab.
“I take it that was Laura?” Mark fell into the chair opposite him.
“Yes, it was, but how did…ah, your hearing has improved already.” Evan pulled a notebook out and began flipping through pages.
“What was that about broken vials and child’s play?” Mark asked, slowly swaying back and forth in his chair. Evan froze mid pen-stroke and stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“I heard you say something to her about broken vials and child’s play. I was just curious what that was about.” Mark leveled his gaze at the good doctor then crossed his arms over his chest.
“Were you eavesdropping, Major?”
“Not at all. I just heard your voice and then…listened.”
“From where?” Mark turned slightly and motioned toward the closed doorway leading to the hall on the other end of the open expanse. Evan shook his head. “That’s impossible. Nobody could have heard our conversation from behind that wall.” He stood slowly and he studied the Major.
“I assure you doctor, I was right over there, behind those doors and I heard you plain as day.” Mark stopped swaying in his chair and cocked his head to the side. “So, what vials were you talking about?”
“Nothing important, Major, I assure you. I’m just shocked that you could hear from that distance and with that much—”
“Bull,” Mark interrupted, coming to his feet. “Don’t try to pull one over on me, Doc.”
Evan pushed his chair back slightly and stared up at the man. “I assure you, Major, I wouldn’t try to pull anything on you.” He held his hands up and tried to calm the man. “I think perhaps you are reading too much into the small pieces of a private conversation that you overheard. That is all.”
Mark narrowed his gaze at the doctor then stood tall and stretched his neck. “If you say so, Doc.” He turned for the door to the lab.
“Aren’t you going to stay for your workup?”
Mark turned and gave him a look he couldn’t interpret. “I don’t think so. I think you and I are done.” He stepped through the doorway and crossed the expanse once more.
Evan watched as the man slipped through the double doors and out of sight. “Damn.”
*****
Bigby leaned against the corner of the warehouse eating an apple as Martinez directed his men in unloading a flatbed truck of wooden studs, plywood and other building supplies. He shook his head as the men stacked the materials deep within the warehouse. “I guess we’re supposed to be carpenters now.” He took a final bite from the apple and tossed the core into a corner of the building.
Martinez supervised the offloading then motioned for the driver to pull the large flatbed out of the open doors and to return the rental truck. “Major Bigby, we’ll begin constructing the mock-up once you’ve verified the dimensions on these drawings.” He handed the papers to Bigby who glanced at them and shrugged.
“I have no clue, mate. I didn’t draw these. A traitorous chap from within their own ranks did. I’d tell you to ask him yourself, but I shot him in the head.” Bigby gave the man a wild grin that sent a shiver of mistrust down his back.
“Very well. We’ll just have to the best we can.” Martinez handed the papers off to one of his men then turned to direct the others in the first stages of construction.
“I can tell you one thing though,” Bigby yelled as Martinez walked away. “You’ll not be able to build all of that inside this warehouse. It’s not tall enough.”
“Didn’t you say they have drones and could possibly do another flyover?” Bigby nodded and Martinez stared out the open doors. “Building outside is a no-go then.”
“What to do, what to do?” Bigby laughed as he turned to make his way back to the office.
“I suppose we’ll just have to build the floor plan with lower ceilings and go as high up as we dare inside here.” Martinez stared upward into the rafters of the oversized warehouse. “We could easily get a three-story mock-up in here if we only made each level maybe seven foot.”
Bigby stopped and ground his teeth together. “You’re determined to do this, aren’t you?”
Martinez nodded. “It’s what Mr. Simmons wanted.”
“Mr. Simmons doesn’t know what he wants.” Bigby threw his hands up in disgust. “Fine, build whatever you want.” He stomped away, his anger building with each step.
“What would you have us do then?” Martinez appeared at his side, his voice held low so that the men wouldn’t hear them argue. “Would you have us all study crude drawings that aren’t even to scale?”
“You’d rather try to build a mock-up made from those same drawings that aren’t even to scale?” Bigby shook his head. “You need someone on the inside that can get video of the innards of the place.”
Martinez chuckled. “And I suppose you are volunteering?”
“Of course not you idiot. But didn’t your boss say something about having a man that was supposed to keep his daughter away from Mitchell? Where the hell is he? I’m assuming he’s with her, no?” Bigby watched as the light bulb came on over the warrant officer’s head. “Perhaps your boss still has a way of reaching that man and can direct him to get us what we need.”
“That is a very good idea.”
“You don’t say?” Bigby shook his head as he pushed open the office door. “There’s a phone in here if you want to call Simmons.”
*****
Thorn stretched a hand down and grasped Foster by the wrist, pulling him to the roof. The jump was just a little too much for him and he came up short the first time. “Why do they build these things so damned tall anyway?”
“To fit their equipment, I suppose.” Thorn stood and stared across the large flat roof in front of them. Vent pipes, fan boxes, skylights and a myriad of other industrial looking devices were mounted across the broad flat expanse. “We must find a good vantage to see within.”
“I’d think any of the skylights would work.” Paul motioned with his hand, allowing his brother to take the lead.
Thorn paused and stared off to the horizon. “We must hurry. I don’t want to be out here all night and be caught when the sun rises. We still have to drive back to our own lair before the dawn.”
“Understood.” Foster trotted across the roof to the nearest skylight and glanced down. It was too dark to make out much, if anything. He looked up and shook his head.
Thorn had made it to the next skylight and stole a peak over the side. He too raised his head and shook it. Foster passed him by and glanced into the next one. His head shot back up quickly and he waved Thorn over. “There are people down there doing something.”
Thorn slipped in next to him and eased over the skylight, taking in the scene below. Men and women of all ages and races were packing things into wooden crates then shoving the crates into the back of trucks. “Do you see Damien?”
Foster shook his head. “No, either he’s not here, or he’s in a different part of the building.” Paul raised his head and glanced across the massive expanse of the roof. “This place is huge, brother. We may not be able to spot him amongst the crowd.”
Thorn squeezed his shoulder and pulled him back from the skylight. “There may be another way.”
Foster turned to him, confusion painted across his features. “What’s that?”
“Call to him. Call to his flesh. As his maker, compel him to come to you.”
Foster shook his head. “No…no, no, no. That’s craziness.” He glanced around the rooftop in a panic. “Even if he answered, what would prevent him from bringing all of his people with him?”
“If they are truly his, then they are yours.”
“You mean YOURS, remember? My people are your people now.” Paul shook his head. “You call him. You’re his master now.”
&nb
sp; “You are his maker, mon ami. His flesh must answer your call.” Rufus stared into his brother’s eyes and Paul groaned.
“I really don’t want to do this.”
“I know you do not, but it must be done. You said yourself, there are too many here and this place is too large to jump from skylight to skylight in hopes of finding him.”
Foster whined and glanced around the rooftop once more. “Can’t we just mail him an invitation to a costume party or something?”
“Non, this must be done. The sooner the better. We must know.”
Paul sighed heavily and leaned against a vent pipe. “Fuck.”
He stared up into the heavens and honestly wondered if this would be the last time he’d be able to look at those stars. For a fleeting moment he wondered why he had never taken the time to learn which constellation was which. After all, he was a creature of the night. This was his sky since the day he was born.
“Fine.” He pushed off the vent pipe and stood before the skylight. “But if this ends up getting me killed, I am so disowning you.”
*****
Little John watched as the other squad ran their drills. Charmichael and McKenzie vying for last place each time they ran the CQB simulator. On the first two run-throughs, Mac had shot the victim or innocent, earning a failing grade for each run. On the third run, he shot two, causing the entire squad to fail. Dominic actually accused the man of doing it on purpose and threatened to sideline him.
All of First Squad watched from the balcony outside Colonel Mitchell’s office as Second Squad ran the drills again and again. Each time the CQB instructors reset the drill, the targets were moved, walls and doorways rearranged and each time the drill became that much tougher to pass.
Little John shook his head as he watched the squad exit the rear, their heads hung low and more than one muttering epithets. “I knew that Mac would be trouble.”
Spalding watched the scenario play out beside the large man and sighed as they failed yet again. “How’d you know?”
“He tried to cause me trouble shortly after we cleared the training program. Remember all of the ‘fitting in’ problems and the issues that the team leaders thought that I had?”
Spalding nodded, his eyes still glued to the team below. “Yeah. What of it?”
“That was Chad’s doing. He always seemed to find a way to paint others in a way to make them look their worst.” John pushed away from the railing and fought back a scream. “I’m telling ya, the guy may have been good in the field before he got here, but now? He’s not a team player.”
Spalding looked to the giant standing next to him. “That’s some pretty serious stuff to lay on a guy. Around here, everyone is a team player or they’re out.”
Little John nodded. “I know. And it kills me to say it.” He glanced back over the rail and saw Dom in Mac’s face. “The guy is poison. If he can’t be the top dog, he wants to take down anybody and everybody who’s above him until he is.”
Spalding turned back to the scene unfolding below and sighed heavily. “I hope to God that you’re wrong.”
“Me too, boss. But I think we both know that I’m not.”
*****
“Only the largest churches!” Lilith shoved the stack of papers away then swept the table clear. “I want maximum carnage!”
Her commanders watched as she threw a tantrum and screamed in a fit of rage. As she began to calm down, Gaius stepped forward. “If I may, my queen?” He held up a tablet and made a few keystrokes. The lights began to dim and the overhead projector displayed a map of the major cities. “We are only one thousand. But if we set up staging areas in these other cities, we can strike the largest churches at the beginning of mass, regain a new body and then strike the next largest church before mass lets out and before anybody can make moves to stop us.” He punched a few more keystrokes and highlighted more areas. “Some of us may even be able to strike a third time.”
“Especially when you consider that some of the largest churches will hold two morning masses because their attendance is so high, they can’t all fit for one,” another commander stated proudly. “If we arrange to hit those churches first…perhaps just before they let out of the first mass? Before word can go out over the media and prevent people from attending their regular mass?”
Lilith paced slowly, her eyes studying the map before her. “And we’ll still have enough of the suicide bombs to take out the capitols?”
“We can ensure that we do, my queen.” Gaius typed something else into the pad and the capitol building came up on the viewer. “We estimate that a force of less than a hundred should be able to destroy the White House and another forty for the Capitol Building. But only if we strike both at the same time.”
“Why so many for the White House?” She turned and gave him a curious stare.
“We’ll have to strike from all sides and in waves. There is security everywhere. The roof, the fence, the gates, the perimeter…and since more than one citizen has jumped the fence and tried to rush the White House, they’ve tightened up their forces.”
“It just seems to me that the first wave would kill more of their security personnel, no?” She stared at the screen again, her mind racing as she tried to imagine the destruction.
“Yes and no, my queen. Each wave will do more damage, but there are still many more inside. And we have to cut off every avenue of escape.”
Lilith sighed heavily. “Fine, just make sure that any bombs left over are redirected toward the churches. I want them flattened.”
Gaius stepped forward again and set the tablet down. “My queen? If I may be so bold? Once you have stepped in and have offered to ‘save’ the humans…wouldn’t that be a good time to destroy the churches?” He saw her eyes widen with anger and he quickly added, “I’m just saying that you could easily blame the bombings on extremists from the church. The populace would believe it if it came from their savior and then you could simply outlaw Catholicism.” He stepped back and studied her.
Lilith considered his words and slowly she began to smile. “I like the way you think, Commander.”
Samael pushed past the Roman demons and walked jerkily out of the room. His face had a pained and contorted look about it. Lilith watched him with confusion for a moment then stood in his path. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Samael continued to walk, slowly, his body fighting his commands to stop. “I…do…not…know.”
“What is going on here?” Lilith opened her mouth to demand that he stop when Samael pushed her aside and marched past her. “Guards!”
11
Mark stood with his hand raised, knuckles poised to rap on Mitchell’s office door. He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Counting to three did no good so he counted to ten and slowly lowered his hand. He stood in place a moment longer then forced his feet to step away from the closed door and toward his own office. What the hell? I think Doc is up to something, so I’m gonna run off and ‘tell’ on him?
Mark shoved his office door open and fought not to slam it behind himself. He fell into his chair and pulled the bottom drawer open. He had the bottle open and to his lips before he realized what he was doing.
He pulled the empty bottle back and stared at the last drop clinging to the threads. He exhaled hard and dropped the bottle into the waste basket next to his desk. “What the fuck’s come over me?” He dropped the lid in next to the clear glass bottle and stared at it. Thoughts raced through his mind as he continued to stare, his eyes not really focusing.
What the hell is Doc up to? Or is he up to something? Am I just being paranoid? What if I’m not? The guy fought like hell to save my life when I was bleeding out. Then again, he did infect me with the vampire virus. Maybe he did it on purpose? Maybe he wants to control me?
Mark sat up and stepped to the window of his office. He stared down into the labyrinth of workspaces and zeroed in on Dr. Peters diligently working in his lab. “What did you do to me, Doc? Were you trying to make
me your slave?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Mark rolled his eyes at his own comment. This is Doc he was talking about. He watched the spineless man going through the motions and shook his head. There was no way the guy had an agenda. His brain simply didn’t work that way.
He walked back to his desk and rifled around in the bottom drawer again. There had to be another bottle down there someplace.
The phone on his desk rang and he nearly jumped. He snatched the phone off the hook and had to fight from barking into it. “What?”
“Duty officer, sir. Mister Thompson and his team checked in. They’ve retrieved the weapons, but he reported there wouldn’t be a need for transportation. They’ll be back at sundown.”
“Very well.” Mark slammed the phone down and turned back to his drawer. He stared at the mess he had made then caught a glimpse of the empty bottle in the trash. “Why do I bother?” He kicked his drawer shut and clenched his jaw.
He took a long cleansing breath and tried to relax. It did no good. He turned and grabbed the pot of coffee from behind his desk and poured a cup. He stared at the steaming brew and watched in stunned fascination as his hand reached out and grabbed the cup, brought it to his mouth and he gulped the steaming hot liquid down. He waited for a pain that didn’t come.
He gently placed the cup down and stared at it, waiting for a reality check. He waited for the nerves in his mouth to start firing and send the message to his brain that he had just fucked up. They didn’t come. He ran his tongue across the roof of his mouth and everything felt normal. He sucked in air and it felt surprisingly cold, the taste of the coffee finally biting his taste buds.
Mark turned slowly in his chair and stared at the coffee pot behind his desk. Slowly his hand reached out and grasped the handle, bringing the pot to his mouth. He took three long gulps of the steaming hot liquid before setting the pot back on the warmer. He smacked his lips and blew out a hot breath.
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