Seal One
Chosen Angels Series
Sara Shanning
Chosen Angels Series
Copyright 2019 by Sara Shanning
Sarashanning.com
Cover by coversbychristian
Edited by Katy Light
EditsbyKaty.com
All Rights Reserved. No parts of this book may be used without written permission from the author. No parts may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form without written permission by the author.
This book is fiction. Biblical reference was used to fuel the imagination. ISV may be quoted or referenced. Any resemblance to person, place or event was used fictitiously.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Acknowledgments
CHOSEN ANGELS SERIES
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Afterword
CHOSEN ANGEL SERIES
Chapter 31
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Ken, my wonderfully supportive and painstakingly patient husband, who doggedly persists in faithfully and loyally loving me no matter what dreams I reach for (except for the coffee shop). That’s as sappy as I am getting.
Reese, who is wise beyond her years and endures so much with one such as myself as her mother. Thank you for your unceasing belief in this endeavor.
My dear friends, Chris and Jody. Chris, your own writing journey, your intelligence and that darn Finisher in you have inspired me from the beginning of this project and encouraged me to not give up. Jody, you are the glue one just cannot peel off. I am so blessed that God granted you all the gifts that make up who you are and that put you in my life.
Ken and Loretta. You have taught me to hug and to cry, both miracles. Thank you for the prayers I know you prayed.
My work girls, because you have listened to my dream non-stop and smiled anyway.
And Boyd Craven. BOYD. I have no idea how I ended up staring at that box of books in your car after one of my first writers group meetings, thinking “I want a box of my own books in my car” while you rattled off advice. Since then you have encouraged me. Answered every single question I have asked. Paid it forward in so many ways. I am thankful enough to shamelessly plug you here.
CHOSEN ANGELS SERIES
SEAL ONE
ALRIC
“Then I saw the lamb open the first of the seven seals. I heard one of the four living creatures say with a voice like thunder, “Go!” Then I looked, and there was a white horse! Its rider had a bow, and a victor’s crown had been given to him. He went out as a conqueror to conquer.”
Rev 6:1-2 ISV
Chapter One
The light was suddenly blinding in the stark white hallway. Alric felt the press of thickness behind his forehead, the familiar ache telling him another vision was forthcoming. He closed his eyes against the light, pressed his fingers against a temple, feeling urgency rush through him.
He had a moment to reflect that the visions were becoming more persistent before darkness flooded in for a moment and that was all that he could see. The black cloud often marked the beginning. When it cleared, he found himself in an odd state of suspension, not really anywhere, but able to see some part of the world spread out before him.
A thick, heavy shadow moved quickly over the terrain, wiping out everything in its path, leaving behind streams of blood that clung wet and glistening to patches of grass. The blood pooled in the natural dips of the ground and coated the bottoms of the trees and buildings.
He searched for the people, for the source of the blood, but everything was deserted and he saw upon closer inspection that the buildings were crumbling or fallen in and nothing showed signs of care.
“Headache again, Alric?”
Jolted by the voice, the image snapped back. Alric winced at the sudden shift in his head, and opened his eyes to peer at the speaker who was watching him far too intently. He had not heard him approach.
“Yes,” he murmured in agreement. Realizing he had been using the wall for support, he righted himself, loosening his shoulders. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his lab coat and tried to appear relaxed.
“You’ve seen our doctor?”
Alric made it a point to hold the man’s steady gaze. He knew there were dark circles beneath his eyes. Sleep was often a struggle, but now with the more constant push of the visions, he barely managed a few hours each night. It was the last problem he needed, especially in the walls of Xis.
“Yes,” he lied.
He knew what was wrong with him, but he wouldn’t be sharing that information. Nor would he be seeing any of the doctors on staff. That needed to be avoided at all costs.
The man who watched him had a chocolate complexion that was unlined, despite his middle age. His black hair was carefully trimmed close to his head. Along his cheeks, his beard was shaved so that three lines ran parallel to each other from his ears to just before his jaw. The cut only added to the intensity of the man.
Alric knew his name was Eitan, and that he answered to Afion himself, the unofficial head of Xis. He had often seen Eitan at the side of the man who claimed to be a humanitarian, but was not.
“Hmm,” Eitan murmured.
The sound was drawn out, and Alric focused on holding his shoulders back and relaxing his face. He could not tell if the interest was genuine or if the man was dangerous. For his own sake, he needed to assume the latter.
“Well, if you need anything, please let me know.”
The hooded scrutiny in the man’s eyes did not waver as he studied Alric for a few more moments, but then he moved on, leaving Alric to breathe in relief.
Questions bothered him. Being the focus of attention bothered him more. He preferred the background, where he could operate under the radar. This was not the first time someone had noticed one of his ‘headaches.’
Continuing on his original path toward the lab, Alric settled the new vision in the back of his mind with the rest of them. There wasn’t any point in dwelling on the meaning of it. He’d learned that a long time ago. God showed him what He willed and the purpose for it would be revealed in His time. Trying to figure it out on his own was a waste of time that Alric did not have.
He followed the hallway to the bank of labs, stopping at his own to enter his key code and wait for the fingerprint scan to enable him access. He scanned his space, noting that nothing had been disturbed. It was cluttered but organized.
Alric was paranoid, but knew it was a healthy emotion in his line of work. He was never completely sure if what he was doing was safe from the eyes of others, despite the safeguards in place. There were many who would do whatever it took to gain access to the secrets that Xis harbored, and he wasn’t convinced that all of his co-workers were trustworthy.
Sitting down in his swivel chair, Alric tapped his keyboard to bring his data screen to life and retrieve the final documentation of the project he had been working on for five years. In one week, he was expected to present copies of all of his data as w
ell as 500 vials of his life-saving formula to Afion.
The vials were meant for good, but he wasn’t convinced Afion meant them for the same purpose.
Afion was a Russian military leader and dignitary, well respected in the eyes of the people for his successful military endeavors.
Alric did not share the same views. He had heard too much, knew too much, from his time spent in the presence of those who did the man’s bidding.
His own part to play was almost at its close. The creation of this formula was finished. Once the data was handed over, it was highly possible that they would no longer find him useful and he would be disposed of. If not, Alric would continue his efforts to create viable resources that would aid humanity.
Afion would claim the credit for this invention, which had always been the plan. After that, Alric understood that the product would be administered to a military team for real world testing and then, based on those results, his further usefulness would be determined.
It didn’t bother Alric that his name would not be attached to the outcome of five years of work. He had been paid handsomely for the privilege of having had a part in it, and had known from the beginning that credit would be given to another. Recognition had never been on his agenda.
His hope was that the production would do exactly as he had intended from the beginning of his concept: make it into the hands of people who needed it.
For years, he had been quietly channeling the money into accounts all over the world, using a hacker named Eron to do it. If he needed it, it would be there. Whether that meant he was free or on the run, he had taken the necessary steps to make both easier.
Frowning, annoyed that he was wasting his time pondering the possibilities of his unknown future, Alric focused on reading over his document, meticulously checking his details. There could be no fault found in his work.
A proposal waited next. The best way to stay alive when you were involved with a group like Xis was to always have a viable reason to offer in the argument of one’s usefulness.
Chapter Two
The room was far too quiet. Alric and the overseers of the lab had been summoned. He could see the anxiety the others were trying to control.
Alric breathed slow and deep through his nose, drawing on everything he had to keep his own focus. He shifted the corners of his mouth into a slight upward tilt and carefully kept any semblance of a frown from appearing between his eyebrows.
He held his arms loosely at his sides, kept his shoulders down, his knees unlocked. And he prayed. Quietly, constantly. He could not allow Afion to guess at his true feelings or the unrest inside of him.
While he worked to make sure his body gave an outwardly appearance of calm, inside Alric fought just as hard. His spirit always rejected the presence of the man; the coldness of him, the wicked blackness that clung to him closer than the perfectly cut clothes he wore. The demons that crawled over the man like bugs. Bile inevitably rose up every time he was anywhere near the man.
Alric knew he was the only one that could see the demons. His being able to detect their presence on people had begun when his visions had started, many years ago. The sight of them was still hard to handle.
Afion’s reception room was a gleaming complement to the hard, emotionless face he presented to those he employed. A black marble table stretched through most of the space in the room, surrounded by uncomfortable heavy metal chairs. At the head of the table sat what gave the appearance of a throne, a larger, more intimidating version of the rest of the metal chairs. Thick metal bands twined around each other at the arms and legs as though reaching out to consume those that had the thought to sit in them. Alric perused the room as they awaited acknowledgment.
The walls were adorned with black shadowy photos of major world centers. The White House, the Reichstag, The Hungarian Parliament, The Palace of Westminster, as well as many other famous political landmarks. To Alric, they had no place in the office of a humanitarian. Not a single picture depicted Afion with another human being at all.
Everything Afion was suggested power. The few times Alric had been in his presence that trait had been instantly apparent, and this was no exception. Afion graced his throne, and though they had been announced, he gave no indication that he had noticed or cared.
Minutes ticked by. No one in the small group spoke.
Finally, Afion finished the precise strokes of his pen on the paper in front of him and settled the sharply bladed instrument in its holder, a black obsidian square. He leaned back, laced his fingers together and examined each of them in turn.
His analysis was piercing when it rested on him. Alric struggled not to tremble, sliding his hands deep into his pockets, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the pen he found in one. Whenever Afion looked at him, he felt as though the man could see straight through to his soul and to all the secrets he held.
Afion unlaced his fingers and lifted one hand toward them, the movement a command, indicating that they should sit.
Alric was glad that he was not the lead. Of the group, he was merely the vessel that had provided the weapon he had been asked for. Two rounded the table and sat, leaving a chair between them and Afion, and Alric and the fourth of the group did the same on the opposite side. He was more than happy to be as far away from the man as possible.
No one spoke or made any move to begin the meeting. Afion was in control and all of them well knew that they were not to engage first.
“Give me the vials.” Afion’s voice finally cut through the practiced neutrality they were all trying to achieve. Across from him, Alric’s Senior Laboratory Director, Dr. Ermikov, placed a small flat box on the table and eased it toward Afion.
Afion grasped the box and turned it, aligning the box so that it was in a perfect rectangle in front of him before he unsnapped the hinges and opened the top to reveal ten clear vials. Lifting one, he held it up in the air and stared at the two-inch long thin tube. Alric prayed that he would find no blemish in the casing. He knew there to be nothing wrong with the liquid itself.
“What am I calling it?” Afion did not take his eyes from the vial, nor did he vary the position he held it in.
“A hydration pod.” Dr. Ermikov spoke again, clearly placing himself in the role of spokesperson. Alric did not consider the man to be brave, but did know that he was a lapdog salivating for approval.
“For how long does it hydrate?” Again, nothing moved but his mouth.
“A minimum of twenty four hours.”
Alric wanted to point out that the details were explained in great detail in the report they had brought with them, but held his tongue. He was pretty sure that Afion had no intention of speaking directly to him at all.
“You must take the entire vial?”
“No, sir. Any amount produces results. It is up to the user to determine how much is needed.” The lab director placed one hand on the data screen containing the supporting documents but hesitated, his fingers flexing with indecision before he slowly pushed the device toward Afion.
Afion lowered the vial back into the box and re-laced his hands as he sat back. “Testing on humans has been done?”
Alric found it disturbing that when the man talked, nothing but his lips moved. The stance of his head did not shift at all. His body was as still as stone.
“Yes, sir. No negative side effects have been reported.”
The data screen remained untouched. Afion shifted his eyes from Dr. Ermikov to Alric. Alric barely managed to keep his jaw from clenching. Brow, lips, shoulders, hands. Mentally, he quickly went through his checklist to be sure he appeared relaxed.
“What role do you play now?” The words were spiked with a wickedness that hinted at evil intentions. Here, if he had come unprepared, he would have given himself over to the man’s lack of mercy.
Alric took a hand from his pocket and passed the device he had brought to the man beside him, and waited as Afion accepted it. Afion brought up the contents, loaded and waiting fo
r his eyes. He read the words that outlined what Alric believed would cement his viability, taking his time. Alric was sure that his thoroughness was intended to add to the heavy tension in the room.
Across from Alric, the director’s forehead was beaded with perspiration. Alric had not told him about his proposal. Protocol dictated that he inform his supervisors of all of his intentions and that the director be the one to present it, but Alric had not been willing to take the chance that the proposal be ‘misplaced.’ His life depended on it.
“The protein packs have done well.” Afion spoke as he perused the synopsis of Alric’s newest offering.
Before the hydration pods, Alric had spent a significant amount of time working on creating a compact pack of meat that contained high enough levels of protein to sustain a single man for one to two days. It had been that creation that had caught the attention of Xis, and propelled them to bring him on board.
Afion closed the screen and set it down, placing his palm flat over the surface. His eyelids lifted and his dark eyes met Alric’s with such intensity that Alric could not stop himself from leaning back slightly to widen the space between them.
“With this third invention, a triage will have effectively been produced that allows man to survive without access to food or a water source for extended periods of time.”
Seal One Page 1
