The Peacekeepers. Books 4 - 6.

by Ricky Sides

  Inside the tunnel, he heard a woman’s laughter and then he saw Clarissa step into the light of the flare. “No, Clarissa. I will fight him. He is a warrior of the light. If you battle him, you will lose,” Jim heard a disembodied voice say.

  Clarissa frowned and hissed at Jim displaying her fangs as she did so. “I said no, Clarissa,” the voice said more insistently, and Jim observed as the woman froze in position and a look of fear crept into her eyes.

  “Yes, Clarissa. Now you begin to understand our true relationship. You thought to make a master your servant. I let you play at ruling, as it suited my purpose, but the time has come for you to know who is truly the master of the vampire nation. Now step back as I command,” the sibilant voice commanded and Clarissa obeyed.

  ***

  When Pete arrived at the basement door, the men were just returning with the tools. They’d brought a hammer, a crowbar and an axe. One of the bigger peacekeepers stepped forward and said, “Let me at that door, sir. I’ll get it open for you.”

  The lieutenant handed the man a crowbar and he jammed the straight end into the space between the door and the door facing. Holding his hand out to the man with the shop hammer, he took it and tapped on the back of the curved end of the crowbar experimentally. Smiling in satisfaction the man slammed the end of the crowbar hard and drove the tool a good four inches into the gap. He handed the hammer back to the other man and pushed on the crowbar with all he had. The wood on the door facing was crushed almost flat and the door began to tear around the crowbar.

  “Stop,” Pete said and gestured for the man to pull the crowbar out of the way. The man pulled the crowbar out of the enlarged hole and stepped aside looking disappointed. Pete placed his eye near the hole and stared through it to see what he could see. Moments later he stepped back away from the door and said, “The staircase collapsed and Jim is nowhere in sight.”

  In the basement below, the sound of Jim’s rifle firing punctuated Pete’s sentence. “Blow the lock now lieutenant,” Pete ordered.

  Nodding his head, the lieutenant held out his hand to the man who’d been preparing the charges. Soon they had the door rigged to explode and everyone backed well away from the blast zone and ducked behind sheltering walls. The lieutenant yelled, “Fire in the hole!” and then he detonated the charge.

  The dust hadn’t even settled when the lieutenant and Pete rushed back to the door. Pete stared at the door in disbelief. It was blackened and damaged, but still very much intact. The door was a good quality steel door made to resist damage from fires and tornadoes. Removing the hinge pins would have helped, but they were on the other side of the door.

  Before Pete could stop him, the big peacekeeper who’d earlier tried to pry open the stubborn door ran toward it slamming his shoulder against its surface hard. Yet still the door refused to budge from its pressure jammed position. “Stop! It’s a fifteen foot drop to the floor, and the floor is littered with rubble,” Pete explained. “We need a battering ram,” he added.

  “I know just the thing,” a peacekeeper said and motioned for two men to join him. They ran into the large den where the man grabbed an antique vase that sat displayed atop a heavy white wooden column sitting on the floor. The man carefully set the vase on another shelf. Together, the three men lifted the fluted column and returned to the basement door.

  “Now that’s more like it,” Pete said as the three men set into the rhythm of bashing the end of the column into the door.

  ***

  The men entering the escape tunnel were having a hard time getting through the passageway. Pete’s warning had probably saved some of the men from serious injury or even death. They had already found and disabled seven separate traps by the time the word reached them that this had become a rescue mission.

  The lieutenant in charge of the Alabama strike force team had done a splendid job of avoiding the booby traps, but eventually one was triggered. The man who triggered the trip wire hadn’t even been at point. He’d been off to the left side of the tunnel, and had moved toward a small darkened niche when he saw something reflect light off the floor of the passageway. When he felt the slight resistance of the tripwire against his boot, he shouted a warning. Everyone froze in place, but nothing seemed to have happened beyond the sound of glass breaking somewhere ahead of them.

  The lieutenant shrugged and figured they’d gotten lucky and the trap had failed to work as planned. They started back through the tunnel, but they had taken only a few steps when they heard something ahead of them hiss in warning. Then they heard the chilling sound of a rattlesnake shaking its tail in warning. Turning their lights to the floor of the tunnel several feet beyond that portion which they had already observed, they saw the remnants of a glass tank that had been broken open. While the lights of the strike force members illuminated the scene, another snake slithered out of that broken container. One of the men shouted a warning and fired his pistol at a target beside the lieutenant’s foot. The bullet hit the rattlesnake that was about to strike the lieutenant. Then there were other shouts, which were followed by more shots as the men discovered that there were at least half a dozen snakes of different varieties and sizes in close proximity to them. When the firing stopped all of the snakes were dead and none of the peacekeepers had been bitten.

  “Now that’s just not right,” one of the men stated. “I mean it’s one thing to try to blow a man up with a trap, or spike him with a stake for that matter. But putting snakes on a man is just not right.”

  The men were glad to quit that area and enter a section that seemed to be free of traps. That was when they ran into Thanatos.

  Chapter 22

  Jim stood with his sais at the ready, waiting for the approach of the enemy that he had sensed while on the first floor. He felt that entity drawing power from the very air around him as the temperature dropped noticeably.

  Few people even knew that Jim could handle the weapons that he had opted to bring on this mission. Pete was aware of his skill, but not even Pete knew why he would choose such seemingly odd weapons for this confrontation.

  Most martial artists have two distinctively different fighting styles. They have one style for empty-handed fighting and another for fighting with a weapon. For Jim, the sai was the perfect weapon to merge with his empty-handed fighting style. Most of the body movements that he executed when fighting empty handed worked superbly when applied to the utilization of the sai, and Jim was a natural when it came to the weapons. He instinctively applied those moves with the sais.

  Jim had been trained in the use of numerous martial arts weapons of the Orient. Most people will have one weapon with which they excel, while being good to average with the rest, and Jim was no exception in this regard.

  When the time had come for Jim to train in weapons, he had been consistently disappointed in his performance. He had also believed that he’d disappointed his master although the man had said not to worry and that it was just a matter of finding the weapon he was born to wield. Jim considered himself decent with most of the weapons. He was really good at the throwing weapons such as shuriken, spikes, daggers, and throwing knives of many sizes and variations. But all of those were considered secondary weapons. He had longed to master the sword. That had been his dream, but that was not meant to be. He’d found himself only a bit above average with that weapon. He was good with a sword, but by no means exceptional. From swords to the nunchucks, all of these weapons seemed foreign and clumsy to Jim. They also forced him to alter his fighting technique drastically to utilize the weapons, thus limiting their value to him in a real battle. The staff was a good weapon for Jim. Although he could not use his normal fighting style with that weapon, he did excel at its use.

  Then came the day when Jim began to train with the sai. His master let him begin with just one of the weapons until he learned the basics of manipulating it efficiently. Then he was given its mate and instructed to practice diligently with both hands. He had to learn to switch them from the overhand
to the underhand grip at will. First, he accomplished that while standing still. Afterwards he had to accomplish the manipulations while going through an intricate set of footwork maneuvers designed to let him close with an enemy or retreat. Jim was surprised to find that the footwork was almost identical to his advanced level empty hand footwork.

  Next Jim learned the weapon form, which was a set of movements and manipulations that incorporated the various techniques with which he would utilize the weapons. When that stylized set of moves was practiced and merged with the footwork, Jim noted the similarity between that weapon form and his advanced empty hand form.

  One day Jim’s martial art master saw him attempting to apply the same empty hand form to the sais before practice, and he smiled. He knew at that point that his student had found the weapon he was born to wield for Jim had instinctively perceived the ultimate advanced form that he would apply to the weapon. He’d asked Jim what had caused him to attempt to merge the two forms in that manner. Jim had answered saying, “It just feels right.” He’d then asked the master if he should stop. He was aware that sometimes practicing incorrect techniques had a detrimental effect on a martial artist. His master had assured him that he was on the right path, and gave him a few tips relating to what Jim had already discovered on his own.

  But for the most part the master had left Jim alone at that point in the training. He needed to see if Jim could incorporate the next stages as instinctively as he had made the current leap of discovery. This would give him vital feedback on the level of skill that his student could hope to achieve. By the end of that week of training, the master was certain that Jim had found his ultimate martial art weapon. One that he would in time come to utilize as naturally as he utilized his hands and feet.

  Then came the day Jim began mock combat training with his master. To prevent serious injury or death from occurring during that training, the master utilized a padded wooden sword. Jim’s sais were specially padded with pipe insulation tubes on the main shaft and the quillions. For weeks this practice continued. At first, the moves were slow and the blows were light. Jim was learning the techniques to employ first. Speed and power would come once he had perfected the techniques. The first set of padded covers lasted for the entire first week without need of replacement. As Jim’s skill progressed the speed increased markedly as did the strength of the blows. It became necessary to change the padding at the end of each class. By the end of the last week, such was the ferocity of the training that it was necessary to replace the padding after each attack set.

  In their final practice set, Jim’s master used two wooden short swords against Jim’s two sai. The use of the short swords negated the disadvantage the master had of not being able to employ the close in fighting techniques that were the hallmark of Wing Chun Kung Fu. Those techniques were simply not practical with the long sword.

  The battle was a furious set of high-speed attacks and defenses. Both men turned each defensive move into an attack, as was the custom of the style. Twice Jim managed to trap one of the wrists of the master, and the set ended when Jim’s right sai stopped at the master’s neck on a backstroke he hadn’t intended to launch. It had just been a reflex reaction brought on by the training of the style. The master had been forced to drop both of his weapons in order to intercept the attacking limb and prevent the attack from connecting with his neck. The quillion had halted a fraction of an inch from his neck.

  The master appeared slightly shaken, and Jim felt a moment of intense shame. He had defeated the master and that disturbed him on a level he’d never thought possible. At the same time, he also felt a surge of elation because he had defeated the master. Looking down at the sai in his hand, he was even more disturbed when he saw that the padding on the quillion that had almost struck the master’s neck had been damaged. The tip and first two inches of the quillion were bare of padding. If that stroke had contacted, serious injury, or death would have resulted.

  The master had instructed Jim to sit on the floor and meditate and he had joined him in that meditation. When he called a halt to that meditation, the master had informed Jim that there was no more that he could teach him regarding the use of the weapons. He further indicated that it was simply too dangerous to continue the sessions. He reminded Jim that their bodies were conditioned to react to serious threats without conscious thought. Therefore, if their lives were in danger it was entirely possible that either man could, and probably would at some point, respond with a lethal attack to prevent serious injury to themselves. They wouldn’t consciously decide to do so. Their bodies would react to the threat without the need for conscious thought. That was the ultimate skill set their style sought to achieve. It took years to finely hone that conditioning. Once learned, the conditioning could not be broken.

  Jim had removed the padding and flipped the sais in his hands offering them back to his master handle first with his gratitude. He’d borrowed the master’s set for the training. But the master shook his head and said, “The weapons have given themselves to you now. You are their new master.”

  Jim thanked the master who nodded his acceptance of Jim’s gratitude but warned, “You must be careful, Jim. They are your natural weapons. No other weapon fits your fighting style this closely. None even comes close. You are deadly with these weapons, Jim,” he said pausing to let that revelation settle in Jim’s mind. “Do not use them lightly. You won’t mean to do so, but you will injure your sparring partners, if you utilize these weapons. Even padded, they are a threat as you have just seen. Nor should you consider the rubber practice sai that are available. Even that soft rubber would kill a man, if he takes a hit to areas such as an eye or throat.”

  “This is the same reason you never practice with us with your natural weapon?” Jim asked.

  The master had smiled that enigmatic oriental smile, and said, “Today you have grown in wisdom and mastered a weapon.”

  Jim was referring to the nunchucks, which were a simple weapon, composed of two sticks linked together by a chain, thin steel cable, or a rope. Jim was one of the few students who’d ever seen the master really practice with that weapon.

  All of the students had seen the master demonstrate techniques, but only a few had ever seen a real demonstration of the master’s true ability with the weapon, and he had only sparred with them using that weapon one time. Jim had been the student to spar with the master upon that occasion, and the master had used a pair of safety nunchucks. Safety nunchucks are light plastic tubes covered in a heavy layer of insulating foam. The are so light that the worst damage they can do in the hands of most people is to cause minor swelling unless of course they hit an eye or throat.

  During that practice sparring session, the master had almost broken Jim’s forearm with that simple toy. A real set of nunchucks would be one thousand times more deadly. The master had bowed and apologized for the incident. Never again would he utilize even safety chucks to spar with a student. Jim was glad that he hadn’t faced that weapon in mock combat, but the master would never have agreed to that. Like Jim, he was just too deadly with his natural weapon to ever practice with a student in mock combat.

  Jim had gone home that night conflicted by the events that had occurred at the last sai class. On one hand, he felt a sense of accomplishment. He’d defeated the master with a weapon. For a long time he had doubted that would ever happen. Yet at the same time, he had almost seriously injured a man to whom he was truly devoted. He placed the set of sais gifted to him by the master in an honored spot in his home and never again lifted them to utilize against a man. He was afraid of his skill with those weapons. Afraid of the deadly risk that they posed to any man he dueled in mock combat.

  Tonight had been the first time that he had picked up the weapons with the intentions of utilizing them against an opponent. He just hoped that he could remember everything he’d need to know in order to utilize them effectively. He was so afraid of accidentally killing someone with the weapons in the heat of even mock battle
that he hadn’t practiced with them in years. While fighting in the cause of justice, Jim had killed many men since the collapse of society in the wake of the disasters. But that had always been a deliberate task and never an accident. To Jim’s mind, it was one thing to deliberately kill a human being because he is a threat. It was quite another to accidentally kill or maim another human being. He’d never forgive himself should that ever happen.

  These thoughts flashed fleetingly through his mind as Jim took the first hesitant step toward the enemy he now faced. He wasn’t even aware that he had twirled the sais to face forward toward the enemy as he advanced and then switched them back as he set his feet to study his enemies.

  As he faced them, Jim also remembered why his master had warned him so strictly against fighting demonic forces. The master had said, “A mortal enemy can take your life, but if you face a demonic enemy, that enemy has the power to destroy your very soul.”

  He saw a pair of red glowing eyes reflecting the light from the safety flare he’d cast onto the floor of the tunnel. An explosion behind him announced that the peacekeepers were trying to get to him and Jim smiled. “What’s your name?” Jim asked his opponent.

  “He is…” began Clarissa, but a hissing sound silenced her. “My master,” Clarissa said a moment later sounding surprised. “True Lord of the vampire nation.”

  Jim took another step toward the two figures in the shadows. He heard a rhythmic pounding on the door behind him. Further down the tunnel, past the source of evil he was confronting, he heard several shots and the screams of men in battle.

  Flavious studied the man closely as he approached. He sensed something odd in the man. The warrior of light was experiencing an odd conflict. He was afraid of the power that he was about to unleash upon Flavious. Flavious knew that it wasn’t merely that this man feared the need to kill, as many men did, nor was it the fear of death that almost all men experienced. This man’s greatest fear was that when he killed, it would be unintentional, and that disturbed this warrior’s soul.