Season of the Witch

by David L. Golemon

  She cackled. Not as loud and annoying as before, but the laugh was still like scraping fingernails across a chalkboard to Ellenshaw’s ears. Even Matchstick winced at the irritating noise.

  “Oh, not you personally, but your ancestors. Without them my kind would have been extinct many thousands of years ago.”

  “That’s the third time you have said, ‘my kind.’ As a historical freak and immensely curious at all times, may ask what kind you are?”

  “Oh, Slim, you haven’t really figured it out yet?” Elsbeth looked from Charlie to Matchstick who chewed his food as he listened. “Why, I’m a witch. We all are here. Don’t you see all the black cats and broomsticks laying around?”

  Charlie stopped eating and glanced around the beautiful dining room. He looked at the large man by the credenza filled with food. The man was trying hard to control his smiling and looked as if he was about to burst with laughter.

  “I’m having fun at your expense Slim I apologize. No, you don’t see those things. I haven’t picked up a broom in centuries and I’m afraid I’m allergic to cats.” Elsbeth smiled as she sipped her coffee. “Professor, you’ll never comprehend what a real witch is. As they say, you’ll always be a skeptic. You’re a man of letters and higher education,” she paused. “Please don’t get my wrong, I admire folks such as yourself. As a matter of fact, I’m much like your past and present Directors. I insist that the men and women who follow me keep up their studies. We need to know about the outside world as much as possible.”

  “You said centuries,” Charlie said. “How old do you claim to be?”

  “Why does every male in my lifetime fixate on my damn age? I’m old Slim. Very old. A curse of my choosing, but a curse, nonetheless. My only regret is that your little green friend and his ancestors didn’t teach me the spell for immortality until I was this old.” She looked at a startled Matchstick and winked. “I could have been taught that little trick back when I was a little more youthful. Now I got all of the old age pains and ills with none of the benefits of my youth.” She cackled that irritating laugh again. “Tell me Slim, what will it take for you to become a believer? Even your ancestors believed enough to burn not just a few of us at the stake.”

  “A little before my time,” Charlie said, pushing his breakfast plate away where Matchstick immediately took the bacon from it.

  “Don’t worry, if I held grudges, there would be a few people far ahead of you in my revenge bucket list.”

  Charlie studied Elsbeth Barlow. Her demeanor was that of someone who learned many years before that you can lead a horse to water but couldn’t make him drink. Through her attitude she looked like she had tried to convince skeptics for most of her long life. For the time being he would let her insanity and ambiguity slide by.

  “What’s your plan?” Charlie asked, removing his wire-rimmed glasses and using his napkin to clean the lenses.

  Elsbeth turned her head and watched Matchstick eat for the longest time. Her wrinkled face grew serious. Serious enough that the small alien placed the bacon on the plate unfinished.

  “I can’t win the fight that’s coming alone. Even with the power of all of my people. I need this little guy. I’ve got to get him to remember just exactly what his race is capable of. You know Matchstick, your kind weren’t slaves all through your history. At one time the Grey’s treated you as equals. Many thousands of years ago. They relied on your knowledge to stop our enemy the first time. When you became mentally more powerful than them, that was when you and your people were enslaved. Now I need you to remember from the collective memory you share with your race on how to defeat the very being that developed the powers we share.”

  “Who is this being you speak of?” Charlie asked.

  Elsbeth stood. “Randall, I need your assistance, please.”

  The large man with the black shirt and black sports coat left his spot by the door and assisted Elsbeth up from her chair.

  “Thank you. Now I need your help with something very distasteful. Slim here wants to be introduced to the Fallen One.”

  Charlie looked from Elsbeth and her minion to Matchstick who had stopped eating and was watching intently. Elsbeth raised her right hand and moved it from right to left through the air. The heavy, thick drapes covering the leaded glass windows shot closed. Charlie and Matchstick both went wide-eyed. Then Elsbeth took the large man’s arm for further support. She closed her eyes. “Ready Randall?”

  “Yes, Granny.”

  “Okay, nnahno-suportum-Modai!” she said as she balled her hand into a fist as the large man closed his eyes and mumbled and repeated the spell Elsbeth had just voiced. His dark hair acted as if it were filled with static electricity and his and Elsbeth silver hair was pulled toward the now darkened corner of the dining room. Charlie started to rise form his chair, but Matchstick leaped from his seat to Ellenshaw’s lap. Successfully pinning him.

  Suddenly a burst of electrical sparks, cartoonish in looks, bust outward from the corner of the dining room and then Charlie did stand and scream as a full, life sized version of a giant Grey appeared as if summoned into the room by a spell Elsbeth had just cast. The large creature looked shocked. It looked around the dark room until its yellow eyes fixated on the three humans and one alien. Its eyes widened and the Grey hissed in anger and stomped its goat-like legs. As it started forward Charlie and Matchstick fell down onto the carpeted floor. The Grey came on as if it were going to tear both of the two to pieces.

  The large man let go of Elsbeth’s arm and tried to get in-between Charlie, Matchstick and the charging Grey. Elsbeth reached for him but it was too late as the Grey turned on the man Elsbeth had called Randall. The creature swiped at him and he went flying through the air. The Grey turned and once more started for Charlie and Matchstick.

  “Tarness-expectai-Modai-susecpatus!” Elsbeth screamed and then went to her knees.

  Just as the Grey roared and lifted its clawed hand to strike at a cowering Matchstick, the image burst into a million blue, green, and red sparks and the room was silent.

  Randall came to and immediately ran to Elsbeth who was struggling to get to her feet. He hefted her as he also used his right hand to open the drapes in a magical swirl of his own small power.

  “I’m sorry. That’s the first time I’ve seen Asmodius. I’m afraid I didn’t handle it too well,” Randall said to Elsbeth. She patted his thick arm.

  “Makes me a little weak in the bladder my own self, Randall,” she smiled as the man led her to her chair. Then he helped Charlie and Matchstick up.

  “What in the hell? Are you saying your ancient enemy is a Grey?” Charlie said as he tried to relax Matchstick as the alien put a choke hold on Charlie’s neck for support.

  “Yes, Slim. His name is Asmodius Modai. Or if you prefer, the Prince of Darkness. But the name it prefers no matter how false its claim, is Lucifer, the fallen angel, a lie it has perpetrated since the dawn of civilization.”

  “What does it want?”

  Elsbeth smiled and accepted the small glass of brandy from a bloodied Randall. She downed it quickly.

  “What he want’s my good Professor, is the world he created long ago back in his possession before it was taken away.”

  “Who took it from him, you?” Charlie asked, incredulous about the entire tale.

  Elsbeth said nothing. Both the Elsbeth and Randall simply turned and looked at Matchstick.

  * * *

  University Medical Center,

  New Orleans, Louisiana

  Ryan took his turn driving as Will was still fuming over being treated like a pincushion at the safehouse. If the truth be known all three, Will, Jason and Henri were still in shock after seeing the Grey in Metairie. As they drove into the hospital parking lot it was the Frenchman’s hackles that rose first. He looked around from the backseat at the brightness of the day. After so much rain the clear skies should have made anyone feel better. The sky was as blue as Henri could ever remember seeing. Still, something had caught his
attention, but he couldn’t place it. It was like they were walking into a situation where they did not have the upper hand.

  “Park as close to the main entrance as possible,” Farbeaux said.

  “Expecting us to have to leave in a hurry?” Will asked, barely able to turn his head due to the soreness of his body from having a roof nearly crush him to mush. He saw Henri pointing. He looked up. “Oh,” was all he said.

  Parked on the side near the main parking area was a large bus. The charter was painted in a garish montage of Louisiana bayou scenes complete with fishermen and hunters and Spanish Moss laden cypress trees. On the side was the slogan… ‘for America and the World—Harold Briggs for President.’

  “It seems our fearless Congressman is also interested in our lone survivor.”

  Henri only nodded his head at Ryan’s observation.

  “How do we go about this?” Will asked. “I think we better check in with Doc Compton on how to proceed.” Mendenhall placed the call. Both Farbeaux and Ryan were shocked when the call lasted only a minute. Will shook his head.

  “Well?” Ryan asked, but Henri had a suspicion on just what instructions the Major had just received.

  “The director said for us to use our own discretion on who we kill to get information.”

  “Funny,” Jason said.

  “I don’t think he was joking, Pal.”

  “Then let’s see what we see, shall we?”

  The three men with their white lab coats strode confidently through the main door and straight past several State Troopers on guard in the lobby. They went to the information desk.

  “Excuse me,” Ryan said, leaning confidently over the desk and the elderly volunteer manning it. “We’re visiting here from Dallas. We’re looking for—,”

  “Congressman Briggs has asked us to consult with the rescued survivor of the Mystery Deep. Perhaps you can point the way.” Ryan looked at Henri. Then he realized the faint. If they asked directly for the survivor’s room number that would have set off alarms in the lobby. But asking for a famous Louisiana Congressman was not as suspicious. After all, wherever Briggs was, the woman they wished to talk to would be close by.

  “Well, the Congressman and his people are in the waiting area near the nurse’s station on the fourth floor,” the silver haired lady said with a smile.

  “So helpful, thank you,” Henri said as the trio moved to the elevator. On the way past a cart Will snatched a chart and hid it close to his coat.

  As the elevator doors closed, Ryan turned to Farbeaux. That was pretty indirect,” he said.

  “Never go straight at the desired target, Commander. Come at that target from the flanks or rear. You should have learned that by now.”

  “Excuse me for being a little lax on my burglary and deception skills, Colonel. I’ll try to make amends for that.”

  “Please do.”

  The doors slid open and Will braced for security to catch them right off the bat. They immediately saw a woman and several men standing near the nurse’s station debating something. All five people were animated as they seemed to be arguing some point or other. Henri watched for the briefest of moments and saw the woman whisper and look at a closed door with two Louisiana State troopers on either side. The women was saying something she didn’t want whoever was in the room to overhear. Ryan and Mendenhall were shocked when Henri bypassed the nurse’s station and went directly to the room’s closed door and the large state troopers standing guard near it. They both prayed the French Colonel knew what he was doing. Henri turned to the two men just as they reached the closed door. Farbeaux knew they had caught a break when he saw the secret service detail assigned to the presidential frontrunner were standing at the coffee machine. He knew how local authorities in a state had a natural aversion to any federal officer. Henri smiled at the two state troopers.

  “Glad to see our federal tax dollars are hard at work,” he said with a nod toward the coffee machine.

  One of the officers smiled and mumbled to his partner. “Ain’t that the truth?” The larger of the two actually opened the door for the trio of circumspect physicians.

  “Damn, but you’re good at this crap,” Mendenhall said as they entered the nearly silent room.

  Will stopped as did Henri and Jason when they heard the beeping of monitors, and then as they turned the corner near the bathroom, they saw a man standing over a woman with bandages on her head and both arms. The portly man with the Elvis grey hairdo turned and saw the three doctors.

  “I just need a few more minutes.”

  Farbeaux looked at the man and he noticed him shaking.

  “We just need to check her vitals.”

  “A nurse just took Ms. Trotsky’s vitals a minute ago,” Briggs said, taking a closer look at the three men.

  “Yes, well, we’re specialists from Dallas, you won’t mind if we do our own examination do you?” Farbeaux asked confidently. Briggs held his ground.

  Henri stepped around him. Ryan and Will took up station on either side of the bed. The woman looked badly burned in several areas but looked like she would survive.

  “This is awful careless,” Farbeaux said as he leaned over the black-haired woman. “He pulled a small syringe from her I.V. tube and held it up for the others to see. Briggs stepped back from the bed.

  “One of the nurses must have left that there. I’ll chew someone’s ass for that.”

  Henri smelled the needle at the syringe’s tip. He looked at the congressman. “Are you this young lady’s father?” he asked.

  “Why, uh, no. Just an interested party,” Briggs said, suddenly looking like a rabbit ready to bolt at the sight of a hunter.

  The Frenchman looked at Ryan and nodded toward the door. Ryan walked over and silently slid the bolt closed hoping it went unheard in the noisy hallway. Briggs saw this and started to back away more assuredly. Henri quickly reached out and took Briggs by the nose and mouth, cutting off his air supply.

  “Oh, shit,” Mendenhall said aloud as Ryan returned.

  “Tell me, as an interested party Congressman, exactly what that interest is?” Henri shook him as Briggs eyes started to flutter as he fought for air. Farbeaux let up slightly on the man’s nose but not his mouth. “Quietly, Mr. Briggs.”

  “Mummamuhma,” Briggs said under the pressure of Farbeaux powerful fingers.

  “Maybe if you move your hand slightly, we can understand what the good Congressman is saying,” Mendenhall said, afraid he was going to watch a United States Congressman murdered right before his eyes.

  “It was a threat. The first words from men like this is always a threat,” Henri said as he did let up on the grip over Briggs’ mouth.

  “Who…are you?”

  Henri reapplied the fingers over the mouth. “You don’t know Congressman?”

  Briggs vigorously shook his head as he was staring at Farbeaux.

  “You think we’re your Russian friends?” Farbeaux asked.

  “Mummamuhma,” Briggs tried to say.

  “Well, that’s a start,” Farbeaux said with a smile.

  “What did he say?” Ryan asked, amazed at Henri’s technique at questioning, as it kind of reminded him of Jack’s method.

  “He thinks we’re Russians. Assassins.” Farbeaux let up only slightly on Briggs mouth. “Me and the men accompanying me are not Russians Congressman.” Henri straightened the man up and then guided him to a chair. He placed his index finger on his lips and made a sshhh, gesture. “Now, why did you try to kill this poor lady lying helpless in her bed with succinylcholine.”

  “What is that?” Ryan asked.

  “A small dose will cause the body into paralysis and the patient dies as a human body would naturally shut down after a trauma. Untraceable.”

  “That’s a lie,” Briggs said as his eyes were wild, going from face to face.

  “Okay Congressman, perhaps we better bring in the authorities and allow them to decide,’ Farbeaux said with not very much sympathy in his eyes. “Y
our fingerprints on the syringe and this,” he reached into the Congressman’s pocket and produced a small rubber stopped vile, “may give you pause for seeking assistance from outside this room.”

  “Who are you?”

  “The little bald man you seem to be fixated on from that private think tank in the desert sends his regards,” Henri looked at Ryan and Mendenhall and winked.

  “You work for Compton?”

  The three men remained silent when the director’s name was mentioned by Briggs. “Congressman allow me to guess. You seem to have gotten yourself into a bind with some eastern European types. Am I correct?”

  “Why would this Compton want to help me, a man out to expose him and the President?”

  “Congressman Briggs, if you wish to avoid wearing a federal prison number for many, many years to come, I suggest you allow us to ask the questions,” Farbeaux said.

  Briggs just nodded his head. His eyes were wide and terrified as he was watching his political future being stolen from him at that very moment.

  As Farbeaux was explaining things to Briggs, Ryan went to the door and placed an ear to it. He listened. He turned and nodded his own head at Henri that thus far, no alarm had been sounded. He then clicked on the recorder on his cell phone and the conversation would stream directly to Europa and the complex.

  “Now, since we are extremely short on time, why were you willing to murder this rather lovely lady?”

  “She and her boss were blackmailing me.” Briggs eyed the syringe and the small bottle in Farbeaux’s hand. “This man turned on his own people and went rogue. At first all they asked for was for me to expose…,” he looked around at the three men and his eyes expressed just how frightened he was, “this mysterious department in Nevada. I only had a suspicion, but these Russians knew far more than I did. They know everything and that was how I was able to have a file on this Niles Compton. It was only that promised. After that they said they had no further requests.”

  “So, you decided to kill the only person who knew you were working with the Russians?” Ryan asked ahead of Farbeaux.