Darkness Reigns

by Joseph Nassise

  Sounds almost too good to be true, Cade thought. But he suspected the Templar needed a break to go their way for once and this looked like as good an opportunity for one as possible, so he didn't say anything.

  The meeting broke up shortly thereafter, with an order from Hale to take down the convoy and secure those supplies.

  Forty-eight hours later, Cade, Gabrielle, and Sergeant Dean found themselves reunited for the mission to take down the supply convoy, under the command of a captain named Coates.

  They'd chosen a spot about fifteen miles north of Lesser York, where the old Interstate 95 ran through a series of tight turns with high embankments on either side. The ambush position would not only box the vehicles in, but would give the Templars a tactical height advantage, allowing them to fire down onto the convoy without exposing themselves to a high degree of return fire.

  A pair of scouts were situated up the road, with walkie talkies to report to the others when the convoy showed up. Cade was down at the edge of the road with Captain Coates and a squad of five men. Gabrielle, Sergeant Dean, and another squad were up along either side of the ridge above. All of them were dressed in makeshift uniforms they'd seized during prior confrontations with the Knights of the Red Fist, in order to confuse any witnesses that might see them.

  The plan was simple; as the convoy approached, the roadside squad would trigger a set of explosives that had been stretched across the road, creating a trench the vehicles could not surmount without time and energy. As soon as the trucks stopped, a second set of charges would be blown behind them, effectively trapping them in place.

  If the drivers wouldn't surrender, the Templars would take them out the hard way, then seize the cargo and disappear into the night before anyone was the wiser.

  It was a good plan and it would have worked, too, if it hadn't been for a corrupt set of detonators.

  The teams had been waiting for just under an hour when the radio in Captain Coates' hand buzzed.

  "The birds are flying. I repeat, the birds are flying."

  That was the signal that the convoy was half a mile out.

  "Already, everyone, look sharp. Here they come!"

  A few minutes passed and then Cade could hear the rumble of the diesel engines as the trucks drew closer. As the first of the headlights gleamed in the early morning light, Coates turned to their demolitions man and said, "Wait until they’re in the middle of the marked area, then blow the first set of charges."

  "Yes, sir."

  Cade watched as the trucks drew closer. The first of them passed the large boulder they were using as a marker and kept going, not noticing anything amiss. Then the second and the third followed suit.

  In minutes all of the vehicles were in the zone and Hale gave the order.

  "Blow it."

  The soldier in charge of the demolitions pushed his thumb down on the trigger and ducked his head.

  Only to raise it again a moment later when nothing happened.

  "Blow it, I said," Coates ordered, in a louder voice in case the other man hadn't heard him the first time.

  "I did." He held up the detonator and stamped his thumb down on the button a second time.

  Still nothing.

  They're going to get away, Cade thought.

  The lead truck was only twenty feet from the forward fire line. If the explosives didn't go off before it reached that point, there would be no way of trapping them in place.

  Fuck it, Cade thought.

  He scrambled forward, out of the ditch they were hiding in, even as Coates shouted at him to get back down. If he did that, they'd lose the convoy, Cade knew, so he pretended not to hear Coates and charged ahead.

  Up the bank and across the road directly into the path of the lead vehicle.

  He waved his arms over his head, signaling for them to stop. He had his gun hanging on its strap across his back, not wanting to give them the wrong impression and ending up shot before they even heard what he had to say. He was hoping the lights would pick up his uniform and that they were a bit lax when it came to their security protocols.

  If they weren't, this was probably the last idiotic thing he was going to get away with.

  To his surprise - and thanks - the lead vehicle slowed down and came to halt about ten feet in front of him.

  The truck sat there, engine rumbling, and then the driver's window came down.

  "Get out of the road, you idiot!" the driver shouted.

  "There's been a bridge collapse a couple miles ahead," Cade shouted back, as he walked slowly forward. If I can just get a little closer...

  "You're not going to be able to continue going this way. You need to turn around and take the alternate route."

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Coates poised on the edge of the ditch, ready to rush forward to secure the vehicle on his signal.

  "Bridge collapse? What are you talking about?"

  The driver sounded more confused than worried to Cade, which was good. He kept his hands away from his weapon and kept moving forward.

  "Here, let me show you on the map."

  Just before passing from view around the front of the truck, Cade flashed the signal to Coates with his free hand.

  As Cade reached the side of the truck, the driver finally realized that strangeness of the situation and pointed a gun out the window at Cade.

  "Not one step closer," he said.

  By then, of course, it was too late. A tap on the window of the passenger side caused the driver to glance away from Cade, only to find Coates standing on the running board, pointing a gun through that window at him in turn.

  Realizing the odds were not in his favor, the driver surrendered.

  The other trucks were taken by the rest of the squad in turn, with only one injury, thanks to a belligerent driver who refused to surrender and had to be shot in the shoulder before getting out from behind the wheel.

  They lined the drivers up in front of the lead vehicle and searched them, then secured their hands behind their backs with zip ties.

  Cade was turning away to speak to Coates about what they intended to do with the prisoners, when the line of explosives behind the rear vehicle finally went off.

  Dirt, gravel, and pieces of concrete were thrown high into the air and the resulting tremors knocked everyone off their feet. Dust and smoke filled the air and Cade could barely hear anything thanks to the ringing in his ears. He pulled himself to his feet, trying to make sense of what was happening, when he saw the Templar next to him raising his weapon. He turned, only to see the drivers making a run for it straight down the road ahead of him, their hands still bound behind their backs.

  No, not that way, he thought dazedly, but his head was still spinning and he couldn't make sense of why he would think that.

  No sooner had the thought occurred to him that the front line of explosives blew as well.

  Cade was closer to this one and he felt himself picked up and tossed backward by the blast. He missed the front of the truck by mere inches and slammed back onto the roadway as debris, including chunks of human flesh, rained down around him.

  He was still lying there moments later when Gabrielle appeared at his side.

  She said something to him, but he didn't catch it through the haze in his ears, making everything sound like he was underwater. She helped him sit up and asked again.

  "...Okay?"

  He nodded. "What about the others?'

  He only realized he was shouting when she pulled back with a wince.

  "Our guys are okay. Minor injuries, nothing fatal. The drivers didn't make it though. Ran right into the explosion."

  Cade nodded to show he understood.

  "I'm going to help the others, if you're okay."

  He gave her a thumbs up.

  As she moved off, he tried to come up with some compassion for the drivers, but failed. They'd chosen the wrong side of this conflict and he just couldn't drum up any sympathy for them.

  Besides, he thought,
now they didn't have to figure out what to do with them.

  24

  The victorious Templars returned to the commandery with the seized vehicles and their precious cargo. Cade and Gabrielle helped unload the munitions and the even more precious medical supplies, including crates of much needed antibiotics and other pharmaceuticals. The success of the mission had everyone in a good mood.

  By the time they were finished, Major Hale and his intelligence squad had time to go through the cache of documents that they'd seized from the lead vehicle and the pair were summoned to Hale's office to discuss what had been found.

  Upon arrival, they found Hale and Captain Coates in animated discussion.

  "Excellent job this evening," Hale told them. "The documents you collected have not only supplied us with information on future shipping schedules but have also revealed something totally new. A previously unknown fuel depot."

  Hale brought them over to his desk, where a map of the surrounding region had been unrolled for viewing. He pointed to a location about twenty-five miles northeast of their present position.

  "The depot is supposed to be operating out of a former National Guard facility and, according to these documents, is only lightly defended."

  In this day and age, refined fuel was a precious commodity and the location of a depot, especially one that wasn't locked down like Fort Knox, was like a gift from heaven.

  "Sounds like we've got our next target," Cade said.

  "Possibly. We're going to want to confirm the information before we make any firm decisions, but I'll sent out a pair of scouts to take a look," Hale replied. "We should have some first-hand knowledge of just how heavily guarded the place actually is in a day or two and we'll make a decision then.

  "In the meantime, good work! Take a day of rest tomorrow, you've earned it."

  As the meeting was breaking up, Major Hale caught her sleeve. "A moment, please?" he said quietly.

  She nodded and then waited as the others left the room, until only herself, Captain Coates, and Major Hale remained.

  Never one to mince words, Major Hale got right down to business.

  "Captain Coates has informed me that Cade disobeyed a direct order to stand down this evening. That he attacked the convoy on his own, requiring Captain Coates to back him up in order to keep him from being killed. Is that an accurate assessment of what happened?"

  For a moment she considered denying it, but she was worried about Cade and knew that doing so wouldn't do any of them any good. She glanced at Coates impassive face and then looked back at Major Hale.

  "It is."

  Hale frowned. Perhaps he hadn't been expecting her truthfulness on the matter.

  "Do you have any idea what might have caused him to do so?"

  "Clearly he thought we could handle the convoy, despite the additional defenses. And he was right."

  "It's not a question of being right. Even a broken clock is right twice a day. It is a question of command authority and your husband ability to follow orders."

  "I'm aware of that, Major. Cade hasn't..." she hesitated, searching for the right words, "...quite been himself since returning from the Beyond."

  "In what way?"

  "I can't really put my finger on it. He's a bit more impulsive than I remember, but then again, we were separated for some time, Maybe he just changed while I was, um, away, and I'm just not used to the new Cade." She shook her head in frustration. "Honestly, I can't be certain. I will keep my eye on him, however."

  "See that you do," Hale said and then dismissed her.

  As Gabrielle left the room and headed for her quarters, she pondered the question that Hale had asked her. Cade was different now; she knew that for a fact. All she had to do was look at the things he'd done since returning from the Beyond to know that was a fact. The way the howler demon's cry hadn't affected him at all. The speed he'd exhibited when taking down the bikers harassing Jacob and his daughter. The quick temper and the flash of power he'd exhibited when they'd first arrived at the commandery. All of those things spoke to a deeper reservoir of power that he hadn't spoken about or exhibited before now.

  When they'd been in the Beyond together, they'd had plenty of time to talk. He'd told her about his years in the Order, about his team and all they'd been through in their fight against the Adversary. He'd explained how his Gifts were both an honor and a curse and relayed to her all Uriel had said about his heritage.

  It was heavy stuff and if she hadn't experienced her own unique challenges over the last several years she might have had trouble believing it. The fact that she'd been standing in what was arguably the land of the dead, in someone else's body after her own had been killed at the hands of her loving husband as he tried to stop a group of fallen angels from taking over the world, had made it just a hair easier.

  Something was definitely happening to him and she had to believe it had something to do with how the world had changed since the Seven had taken over. Cade's angelic blood seemed to be activated in a way that it never had before and she couldn't help but be concerned at the changes it was causing in his behavior.

  It would bear watching in the future.

  25

  The Regent had just finished meeting with two ambassadors from the Rocky Mountain Kingdom when his aide informed him that he should speak to one of his soldiers that was lying near death in the infirmary on the 8th floor.

  The Regent was tired; negotiating with demons was a difficult task at best and the two who'd come in from Denver the day before had been a particularly difficult pair. They kept rehashing everything over and over again, with subtle changes each time to see if you'd notice and if you weren't careful you could talk yourself right out of the concessions you'd gained the first time around.

  The last thing he wanted to do was speak with one of his "subjects," especially in the damned infirmary.

  But his aide insisted, telling him that if it wasn't worth the Regent's time, he would disembowel himself with a dull knife right there on the infirmary floor.

  His aide certainly knew how to get his attention and the Regent was mentally considering which knife to give the poor soul as he made his way down to the lower levels via his private elevator.

  When he arrived at the man's bedside, his aide informed him that the patient had been driving one of the trucks in a supply convoy when it had been attacked. He had barely escaped with his life and they weren't certain that he would survive the night given the extent of his injuries.

  "Then why the hell did you drag me down here?" the Regent asked.

  "You need to hear his story, sir. You'll understand once you do."

  "I had better," the Regent replied, then slipped into the room.

  The patient was heavily sedated to reduce the pain - apparently he'd suffered severe burns when an explosive charge had detonated nearby - but he was still coherent enough to recognize the Regent when he entered the room.

  "My Lord," he mumbled, through the drugs and the pain.

  "Tell me what happened," the Regent urged. "Who did this to you?"

  Slowly, in fits and starts, the story came out. How the convoy had been stopped on the roadside by a one-eyed man wearing the colors of the Knights of the Iron Fist. How the drivers had been forced out of their vehicles at gunpoint. And finally how an errant explosion had set the stage for this driver to escape into the night and make his way back to New York on foot so he could deliver his information to the Regent.

  "A one-eyed knight, you say?" the Regent asked, just to be certain he'd heard correctly.

  The dying man nodded. "Didn't seem to slow him down any, either. He fought like the devil himself, sir, and his sword seemed to have a life of its own."

  The Regent didn't like the sound of that. He'd known a one-eyed man who fit that description in the past, but as far as he knew that particular individual perished years before at the hands of Prince Ashareal himself.

  Hadn't he?

  Could it be that he had survived the Adve
rsary? That he had survived the cataclysm that had shaken their world out of its old ways and into the new?

  That he was, even now, out there causing problems the way that he used to do?

  One part of him shuddered to think that his old enemy was not only alive and well but was causing him difficulty while the other part welcomed the opportunity to once again face off against the man who had been a thorn in his side for so many years.

  After all, the Regent thought, the last time they'd encountered each other he'd been a mere human. Now, with his enhanced capabilities, the confrontation should be far more satisfying for him.

  And far more painful for his opponent.

  The Regent leaned over the bedside, making sure the driver could see him clearly.

  "You did well, my son. Well, indeed. Now it’s time for you to rest."

  Still smiling, the Regent lifted the extra pillow up from the bedside chair and clamped it over the driver's face. The man struggled, but in his present condition there wasn't uh he could do and it didn't take long for him to suffocate.

  The Regent lifted the pillow, surveyed his handiwork, and then handed the pillow to his aide, who was staring at him with a look of horror.

  "He was in pain," the Regent said. "What else would you have had me do?"

  Besides, he thought, this way he can't mention Williams' possible return to anyone else.

  If it even was Williams.

  We'll see soon enough.

  Leaving the infirmary behind, the Regent returned to his quarters and then ordered his aide to summon one of his officers, Ephram Black, Captain of the 1st Cohort of the Knights of the Red Fist, to his side.

  By the time Black arrived, the Regent had come up with a plan. It wasn't all that original a plan, he'd used something very similar to it once before, in fact, but then again, he didn't see the point in messing with something that worked.

  "I have a mission for you, Captain Black."

  26