The Maiden Medallions: Beastkeeper

by Edward Shawn

  But Falconer was already heading for the elevators, each step feeling agonizingly slow as if wading through water. From behind, he heard Earl issuing an apology but didn’t have time for it. He needed to get upstairs to warn the others.

  Stepping inside an elevator, he leaned against the wall, his heart pounding as his mind raced through the jumble of thoughts colliding in his brain. How could she have found them? Was it too late to get away? He doubted the woman hunting him would be alone this time. Falconer touched the medallion beneath his shirt as the elevator reached the top floor.

  Exiting cautiously, he didn’t see a soul. Opening his front door, he dropped the groceries on the floor, then sprinted down the hall to his bedroom. “We have a problem. We have to go right now,” he said as he entered the room.

  “What is it?” Wren asked as Galen finished applying the clean dressing to his wound.

  “Someone knows we’re here, someone with bad intentions.”

  Wren swung his legs off the bed. “Who?”

  “You don’t know her. I’ve dealt with her before and she’s extremely dangerous–we have to go now!”

  “She...” Galen’s voice sounded like it came from afar. He was closing the bottle containing his healing salve but stopped upon hearing that one innocuous word. Turning around, he stood face to face with Falconer. “The girl with the gun.” Galen’s straw hat instantly appeared in his hand and he dropped the salve into it. Snapping his wrist as if flinging water off his fingertips, the hat vanished before everyone’s eyes.

  “Yes! It has to be her! The description I got from security, it fits!”

  Reacting as if someone had called out his name, Galen jerked his head up, his eyes settling on the ceiling.

  “What?” Falconer asked.

  “A noise.” The old man pointed above his head.

  Wren looked up. “I don’t hear anything,” he said in a hushed voice.

  “It doesn’t matter! We have to go,” Falconer said, leaving the bedroom.

  Wren’s eyes flitted back and forth as he stared dumbfounded at his two companions. “There are three of us. Why should we be intimidated by one woman?”

  “You’re hurt, what help can you be,” Falconer reminded him. “And if you think she’ll be coming alone...”

  Galen nodded in agreement.

  Vibrations moved through the penthouse and shook the picture frames and paintings on the bedroom wall. A glass of water slipped off the edge of a side table and smashed into pieces on the floor. Everyone heard the low, steady drone coming from beyond the ceiling.

  An image penetrated Falconer’s mind. In an instant, he understood everything that was happening around them. “They’re here! There’s three of them on the roof!”

  Falconer hurried his companions towards the front door. Before reaching it, a screeching falcon flew through the open balcony doors and landed atop the crystal chandelier in the living room.

  “Talon! Thanks for the heads up!” Falconer was grateful the young falcon was soaring nearby and had a perfect view of what was unfolding on the roof. Their bond wasn’t as strong as the one he once shared with Riff, but Talon could still send a mental image of men exiting a military helicopter floating soundlessly just inches above the building. White light shining from his medallion, he forged a link with Riff’s offspring.

  Sounds and hushed voices came from the balcony as black shapes moved around outside.

  “Help us, Talon. Get their eyes!”

  The falcon launched itself off the chandelier and headed towards the shadowy forms. The bird of prey screeched, his cry tinged with rage as he raked his claws across the face of one of the men garbed in black. Screaming, the man staggered back, Talon continuing to inflict damage to his face before flying up and vanishing into the night.

  Falling to his knees, the wounded man dropped his weapon, then cradled his face with both hands.

  “Budanski! You okay?” a male voice yelled.

  Anticipating a second attack, Falconer watched the two upright intruders sway their weapons around. Through the large open doorway, he recognized the long coat of the woman he fought in the Canadian woods a few nights ago.

  Reaching for the light switch, Falconer turned the chandelier off, plunging the living room into darkness. Rolling into the kitchen, he concealed himself behind the countertop island and spotted Galen leading Wren back towards the bedroom.

  The woman dove into the condo, finding cover behind the chairs of a glass-topped dining table. Her partner, having checked on the injured man, stepped through the balcony door, his semi-automatic assault rifle raised and ready.

  “Shane! Shane Carter,” the woman shouted. “You have something we want! Give it to me now and we’ll leave!”

  A light flicked on from the weapon the man carried and he scanned the living room. “Enough of this,” he said, unhooking a canister from his belt. “Put your mask on, girl.” Tossing the metal cylinder, he stepped back as smoke billowed forth and started filling the living room.

  Falconer knew what it was. He could already feel its effects on his eyes and throat. Before long, the kitchen would be saturated with tear gas, leaving him helpless to deal with the intruders wanting to take from him what defined his very existence.

  “You’re out of time, Carter,” the woman said. “You have five seconds to surrender and hand the medallion over to me...or I’ll kill everyone in this building!”

  He stayed behind the counter, panic eroding his composure. Was she bluffing? There was no way of knowing, and could he really take the chance? She had arrived in a military helicopter. What else might she have at her disposal?

  The gas obscured the living area. The trespasser remained stationary, his gun light roaming the condo.

  Tears flowing from his burning eyes, each breath stinging his lungs, Falconer couldn’t risk innocents being killed because of him. Rising up, he staggered towards the man now aiming the light directly at him.

  The man stepped forward. “Down on your knees!”

  Falconer lowered himself to the ground, the light from the assault rifle shining in his eyes. He heard footsteps approaching but couldn’t see anything other than blurry shapes and colors.

  “Hmm, just how I like my men–on their knees.”

  She stood right in front of him. Though her voice sounded muffled, he still recognized the condescending tone of the woman with the gun. He also realized Micah had seriously underestimated what they were up against. In order to have found him as quickly as she did, there must have been plenty of money and resources behind her. Whomever she worked for was formidable, and now they were all on the defensive.

  “Hold his arms,” she instructed her accomplice.

  Strong hands grabbed his wrists from behind. Falconer strained against the force pulling his arms back.

  The man restraining him wrenched an arm into a painful lock. “Keep that up and I’ll break them,” he said.

  Crouching in front of him, her face covered with a gas mask, Falconer felt cold steel placed against his throat.

  “I’m not afraid to die,” he said, ignoring the blade and staring straight at her.

  “Die?” She sounded confused and slightly put off by the idea. “I’m shocked you think I’m capable of such things. You, on the other hand, seem to have mastered the act of murder. Or perhaps it was one of the guests you have stashed away that murdered some colleagues of mine.”

  He didn’t know what she was talking about, but it was obvious they had been under surveillance if she knew about Galen and Wren. Surely, they didn’t commit this act she spoke of. But then, he never did get an explanation as to how Wren received his injury. “The only murderer here is you, so you better kill me because if I get the chance, I won’t hesitate to send you to see your colleagues rotting in Hell!” His eyes still burning, he shut them and welcomed the darkness.

  Feeling the knife slide down his throat, it hooked the chain around his neck.

  “Aww, you’re so harsh,” she said wit
h a playful lilt in her voice. “You had your chance couple nights back. If I remember correctly, you hesitated when you had me on the ground and were sitting on top of me.”

  Her accomplice shifted his stance, then cleared his throat. “Let’s speed this up. We have a timetable to keep.”

  Grabbing his shirt, she tore it open revealing the medallion gleaming softly within its chain housing. Using her knife, she lifted the chain and medallion up over his head. “Thank you, Shane. You’ve been most accommodating, but my friends and I really must be going now.”

  He forced his eyes open. They burned but the sensation wasn’t getting any worse.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. You’ll be coming with us. I know someone that wants to meet you. Apparently you’re important, though I really don’t see what’s so remarkable about you. I don’t see it at all.” She looked at her accomplice holding Falconer’s arms. “Bring him.”

  The man behind him twisted his arm into a painful hold. Falconer screamed in agony before receiving an aerosol spray in the face.

  32

  Carl released his arm and Carter collapsed unconscious to the ground. “I’ll get Budanski, then we’ll round up those others. They could have info about Dalton’s murder, especially the injured guy,” he said before striding onto the balcony.

  Evelynn stayed close to the balcony doors. The breeze flowing into the condo pushed the gas away and into every nook of the penthouse. Collecting by the front door, the gas started drifting down the main hallway.

  Placing the medallion around her neck, she flipped up her mask, pulled out her two-way radio and contacted Johnson who was assigned to drive the getaway vehicle. “Johnson, you there?” she asked, watching Carl help Budanski up, the blood dripping out between his fingers as he attempted to hold the shreds of his face together.

  A voice crackled before clearing up. “Yeah. Mission accomplished?”

  “Yes. I’m coming down. Make sure you’re waiting by the lobby entrance–out.”

  Assisting Budanski into the living room, Carl suddenly let go and moved his weapon into position. Stumbling to one side, Budanski fell to his knees.

  “Step out of the shadows,” Carl shouted, aiming his rifle at the hallway entrance.

  “What’s happening?” Budanski asked, his voice muffled by his hands over his face.

  Evelynn saw a figure standing in the hall. Hidden by the swirling gas, he held something in his hand but she couldn’t see what it was. Sliding her mask back down, Evelynn reached the side of her ally pointing his gun at the shadow immersed in the gas cloud. They exchanged a look, but their masks prevented each from gauging what the other thought about the man apparently impervious to tear gas. Slipping her hand under her coat, Evelynn touched the butt of the gun resting in the holster.

  “Step forward!” Carl ordered. “Now!”

  The figure complied. Moving through the gas, an old man emerged from the cloud and stepped into the light from Carl’s rifle. His long hair tied back, he wore jeans and a red, long-sleeved shirt with black buttons. His eyes smoldered as he looked at Evelynn, though, his features remained stoic as he firmly gripped a pointed straw hat.

  With Carl and Budanski in charge of surveillance, this was the first time Evelynn laid eyes on the old man. And although she didn’t recognize him, his hat tugged at a memory, even if the specific instance where she saw it eluded her.

  “Who are you?” Carl asked gruffly. “Where’s the other guy?”

  But the old man ignored him. He stared at Evelynn, or more exactly, at the medallion hanging around her neck.

  “It does not belong to you,” he said, his eyes shifting to Shane Carter lying on the ground.

  “Sorry–I really don’t have time to chat. I’m on a schedule, I’m sure you understand.” She glanced at Carl. “Take care of this.”

  “Fine. Can you help Budanski?”

  Evelynn headed for the front door, a smirk creasing her mouth. “I don’t think so. He’s your problem, not mine.”

  But she didn’t get the chance to open it; the old man was beside her before anyone could react. Grabbing hold of the medallion, he wrenched it away, shattering the chain. Links cascading down and ringing off the floor, the force of his tug sent Evelynn tumbling to the floor.

  Gunshots echoing through the condo, the old man jerked his arm back as bullets pierced his forearm. Losing grip on the medallion, it fell to the ground and Evelynn reached out and grabbed a hold of it.

  “Go, Evey! I’ll deal with this!” Gazing through his gun sight, Carl focused on the assailant.

  Getting up, Evelynn stuffed the medallion into a pocket, then opened the door to leave. The old man tried to stop her but was thrown into the wall as a bullet penetrated his shoulder. He didn’t scream or react to being shot. Just like the tear gas, he seemed unbothered by the bullets tearing through his arm.

  The old man’s wounds didn’t bleed. Instead of crimson liquid dripping everywhere, bluish-black fumes rose from the bullet holes. Evelynn saw this shade of smoke before after decapitating the large crow and wondered if they were somehow connected.

  Stepping into the hall, she slammed the door behind her and cursed her grandfather for involving her in this. The pursuit of items bestowed with power beyond her understanding was becoming more work than she cared to have. Summoning an elevator, she waited for its arrival.

  Shots had been fired and the police were surely on the way. They had taken the law into account when setting their timetable in motion, so as far as Evelynn was concerned, she would be gone before they showed up. But if not, she had plenty of firepower to keep them distracted. The stealth copter was retrofitted with enough armaments to devastate entire city blocks at a time. She was sure that would keep the cops occupied if it became necessary.

  Evelynn watched the number rise as the elevator ascended to the penthouse floor. In fact, two of them were coming, one slightly behind the other. Donning a black baseball cap and dark glasses, she entered the first to arrive and pressed the button for the lobby.

  Hearing the arrival of the second elevator, the security guard she spoke to earlier fidgeted with his gear as he walked past. Looking her way as he strolled by, Evelynn couldn’t resist blowing him a kiss as the door sealed shut.

  Descending without a stop, she exited onto the lobby. A second security guard stood behind a large counter, a voice emanating from the walkie-talkie next to his ear. Evelynn assessed the situation. Besides the guard, the only other person in the lobby was a woman gazing at her phone while retrieving her mail.

  Reaching into a pocket lining the inside of her coat, she fished out a pair of opaque glass beads. Tossing them onto the floor, they rolled out ahead of her as she walked towards the exit.

  “Lady–hey lady,” the security guard called out, setting his radio on the desk.

  The marbles exploded into brilliant flashes of white light. Blinding the guard, the lobby dimmed before going dark. The woman by the mailroom screamed, her phone and all other electronics within the lobby rendered useless by the tiny electro-magnetic pulses emitted during the light show.

  Approaching the exit doors, Evelynn stepped outside and saw the black van pulling up in front of the lobby.

  “Where are the others?” Johnson asked as she climbed inside.

  “Drive. I’ll explain on the way.”

  Police sirens wailing in the distance, Johnson drove the van out of the condominium complex as Evelynn sent Jeremiah an encrypted message.

  ***

  “Good to see you, Marcus,” Jeremiah said, smiling at the man on his laptop screen. “I trust the flight was adequate?”

  The ruggedly handsome man with ruffled blonde hair winked and smiled back. “Yes, and I’d expect nothing less from you, old friend.”

  “How far are you from base camp?”

  “At least three hours.” Marcus glanced at something off screen. “Looks like my ride’s here.”

  “Then I’ll wish you luck and see you within a day or so,” Jeremiah sai
d as his phone chimed. Reading over the decrypted message, he nodded in approval.

  “Who needs luck? I’ll find it–it’s what I do. See you when you arrive.” Marcus waved and then his image was gone.

  Jeremiah shut the laptop. Forging a friendship after finding common ground with their passion for archaeology, Marcus and Jeremiah had gone into business together decades ago. Of course, the dynamics of their relationship changed after Jeremiah discovered the secrets within the crystal skull and began ascending the ladder of power and wealth. But through his rise, Marcus remained a loyal friend while continuing to scour the planet for anything of interest. Able to pursue his passion through a generous stipend from Jeremiah, Marcus went on to discover many amazing things, most of which ended up in Jeremiah’s possession.

  And now, Marcus was seeking another medallion somewhere within the depths of the Amazon Jungle.

  Calling Dr. Sanborn, Jeremiah instructed her to bring Susan to his office. After hanging up, he reached for his personal phone and started answering another text that came through. But before he could finish, Ebondust intruded into his thoughts.

  Things are starting to form.

  “If by that you mean things are coming together, then yes, you’re right.” Forwarding his message, he set his phone aside.

  Your connections in the southern land mass can be trusted?

  “I believe so. Money has a way of building trust,” Jeremiah said with a sly grin. “Besides, Marcus will be leading the expedition, and he’s one of the few people in this world that I do trust.

  Trust does not equal success.

  “That’s true, but he’s familiar with the region and I have complete confidence in him. Marcus will find this temple of yours because he’s the very best at finding lost things.”

  Then I believe you, Jeremiah, for I trust you.

  “Glad to hear it,” Jeremiah said, checking his appearance in a full-length mirror. “Very soon now, a third medallion will belong to me.”

  It is not as simple as you may think. The temple will not surrender it, not without extracting blood as payment. My findings say as much.