The Weapon Bearer's Son

by Steven F. Warnock

  The Frateco Soldatoy were armed with SIG MPX-SD submachine guns. The 9mm weapons had integrated suppressors that rendered them quiet enough to fire without hearing protection, but not completely silent. Of course, the nearest living neighbors were far enough away that they’d never notice the gunfire coming from the house at the end of the street.

  On the other hand, a pair of Program modified M18A1 Claymore directional anti-personnel mines going off nearly simultaneously were loud enough to alert the entire neighborhood that something bad was happening at the end of the road. Each mine was loaded with hundreds of pellets that were propelled by C4 explosive in a sixty-degree arc from the front of the device. The pellets in the unmodified version of the Claymore were seven hundred .125-inch steel balls. The Program version had originally replaced the .125-inch steel balls with five hundred .25-inch balls, half of which were silver. The newest Program Claymores still had five hundred quarter inch balls, but they were made of Kryptonite Omega, the alchemical polymer that mimicked iron, silver, gold, and brimstone while retaining the physical properties of lead.

  Stretch and Grin were shredded in an instant. At the back door Graves had just entered the doorway and was sweeping to Stretch’s right as the mine on the kitchen table detonated. The orc was caught in the blast cone, and even though he didn’t catch nearly as many pellets as Stretch, as many as ten pellets entered Graves’ head. Both men’s bodies were hurled backwards through the door. The back wall of the house was mostly picture windows for the view of Delaware Bay. Sunny was standing at the window next to the door on the opposite side that Graves had entered from. Glass and KO pellets propelled by the concussion wave were enough to tear Sunny’s head raggedly off his body.

  The front door team fared only a little better. Because of the angles involved, the mine covering the front door had been placed on the bottom step of the stairs facing the door. Unlike the back of the house, the front of the house had a more solid wall. Two thirds of the pellets from the blast embedded themselves in the wall to either side of the door frame. The remaining third expended its entire fury on Grin. The sprite’s gory remains were thrown out of the house, splattering Spark and Whisper with the remains of their comrade.

  The simultaneous explosions shocked and distracted Alpha and British Bob from hearing the vehicle in the far bay of the garage crank up the engine. A large man wearing a heavy tactical vest stepped out of the garage and pointed a strange looking weapon in their direction. His weapon wasn’t suppressed, and it cracked loudly as he sent a burst into British Bob’s chest. The dwergar toppled back, the RF scanner flying from his hand as he fell on his butt and grabbed his chest. A second burst removed Bob’s face and most of his brain from continued existence.

  Alpha used her preternatural speed to spin out of the line of fire and under the cover of the corner of the house. Continued fire chewed up the boards at the edge of the garage, several penetrating the wood and slamming into Alpha’s back with enough force to knock her prone. The same rounds hit her with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs. However, her outfit’s armor saved her life. Gasping for breath, she watched as the big blond man came around the corner of the house, swapping out a spent magazine for a fresh one.

  He engaged the still stunned Spark and Whisper from there, firing his SMG with one hand while he removed a metal sphere from a pouch on his vest. Spark and Whisper had both stumbled away from the front stoop, seeking to find some kind of cover or shelter from the hail of gunfire that had come their way. The big man dropped his gun, letting it hang from a retention sling, pulled the pin on the grenade, and lazily lobbed it toward Spark and Whisper’s hiding place.

  At that moment a dark SUV came swerving around from the garage. The big man had regained his grip on his SMG and reloaded it as he back pedaled toward the car. Alpha desperately tried to gain her breath as she struggled to lay a hand on her MPX. Pain radiated from where she’d been hit. Her ribs were likely broken, possibly shattered.

  The grenade detonated.

  Spark and Whisper had found cover behind the far corner of the house, but the grenade had landed just beyond their position. Both of them were showered with ordinary steel shrapnel, which happened to be toxic to them since they were both Fae. Their body armor did stop most of the shrapnel from entering their bodies. It was good armor that way, but it wasn’t enough to protect them from the concussive force that slammed the two of them into the wall of the house. Neither the leshy nor the pixie was wearing any kind of head protection, and when their heads hit the wooden wall, both men’s skulls were cracked and their soft brain tissue was subjected to enough crushing G-forces to cause instant death.

  As the SUV started up the street, it paused long enough beside the Frateco van for the big man to drop another grenade underneath. Then, it was speeding away back up the road.

  Alpha finally caught her breath and gained her feet as the thermite grenade detonated beneath the undercarriage of her van. The super-hot plasma spewing from the explosive burned through the drive train and ruptured the gas tank causing a secondary explosion that flipped the van over. She was knocked down again by the concussion wave. When she regained her footing, Alpha screamed in impotent rage before running off into the night.

  Chapter Eight

  Millsboro, Delaware

  Monday, May 6, 2019

  “ARE YOU OKAY, ATHENA?” Mack asked as he set her triple shot Americano down in front of her.

  The lawyer accepted the coffee gratefully. “I’ll be alright,” she replied after her first sip.

  “Is this a consequence of your geas?” KC asked as she accepted a non-fat latte.

  Athena nodded. “When I use my ability to generate lust between other people, there’s a sort of... ‘hangover’ the next day, and it’s worse if they haven’t, you know, had sex with one another. During my monthly estrus, if I don’t have sex with somebody other than myself, I’m the one with the hangover.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Mack apologized.

  Athena took another sip of her coffee as she waved off his apology. “Not your fault. I understand you’re a committed monogamist, and I admire the respectful way you’ve approached my issues. If you’re anything like your main characters, I imagine you were quite romantic and gentlemanly in courting Kayleigh here.”

  “He was,” KC confirmed. She smiled at Mack. “Still is.”

  “See, I want that,” Athena sighed with a gesture toward KC. “I want a partner or partners who’ll look at me the way you two look at one another.”

  “Partners?” KC repeated.

  “I’m naturally polyamorous, so some kind of, you know, polygamous situation would work best for me. I think.”

  “You want a harem,” KC giggled.

  “I kinda want to be a part of a harem, actually,” Athena snickered.

  Mack leaned back in his seat as he glanced around the Starbucks. He wondered if Uncle was already here. The space was becoming crowded with the lunch time rush. Mack personally didn’t understand why anybody would come to a Starbucks for lunch. The food and drinks were overpriced, and the coffee itself was burned. Well, the beans were burned, no matter that they called it a “double roasting” process. The coffee was needlessly bitter. Mack’s own plain black coffee sat on the table mostly untouched. He’d rather have gone down the street and gotten a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee or if they’d been on Busster he’d have been dipping into his stash of Black Rifle Coffee Company’s Black Beard’s Delight.

  “Do you mind if I take your extra chair?”

  The question startled Mack out of his contemplations on the varying quality in coffees. He looked up at the speaker who’d managed to sneak up on him. That fact intrigued Mack. Normally, his heightened senses precluded that possibility even in a crowded restaurant.

  “We’re expecting one more,” Mack replied.

  “Oh?”

  Mack stood up to look the other man in the eye, which gave him the opportunity to study the newcomer. The two men
were of a height with one another, though the other man had a slender build compared to Mack’s hard, muscular bulk. Though he appeared to be on the younger side of middle aged, the newcomer’s face showed hints of a longer, harder life than his pleasant demeanor would seem to indicate. His hair was on the whiter side of blond, but the eyes staring back into Mack’s had the same shade of hazel.

  He was dressed in khaki slacks, patent leather wingtips, a long-sleeved white button-down shirt, a plaid bowtie, and a tweed jacket with suede elbow patches. A leather document bag was slung from one shoulder, and he was carrying a paper Starbucks cup in his off hand. His other hand was held close to his body, his ring and middle fingers curled under his thumb and the ring and pinky fingers extended. The gesture was the same one that Mack’s mother had used in place of the traditional “okay” hand sign.

  “Uncle?”

  “Nephew,” the stranger confirmed with a grin. “Let’s sit before we start to attract undue attention.”

  Uncle took the empty seat next to Athena.

  “How are you, my dear Athena?”

  “I’m suffering through an estrus hangover, and these two had to blow up my house to rescue us from a team of what looked like professional killers.”

  “Oh. So, that was your house in the news?” Uncle seemed genuinely embarrassed. “I had hoped to ward your home from troubles. Made it seem like your neighbor’s address was yours.”

  “Bad move, Uncle,” Mack chided. “They killed the family next door.”

  Uncle winced. “Oh, dear.”

  “Who were they, Uncle? The killers, I mean.”

  “Most likely they were Frateco soldiers.”

  “Uncle, why would the Unseelie Mafia come after Athena?”

  “They weren’t after Athena. They were looking for me, I assume.”

  Mack’s face turned red for a moment before he clenched his jaw and forced himself to be calm. “Why?”

  “Because the Malhumila Frateco was founded by our family’s sworn enemy, and I won’t say anything more here. Do you have a car?”

  “Yes,” KC replied since Mack looked like he was on the verge of flipping the table over.

  “Good because I used an Uber to get here. Let’s finish our coffees. Then, we’ll all go to your car, and I will direct you to my safe house.” Uncle sipped from his own cup and frowned. “God, this is bad. Okay, forget the finishing our coffees part. I’ve got some nice BRCC Just Black blend at the safe house.”

  “You like Black Rifle Coffee?”

  “Of course, Nephew. It’s patriotic and excellent coffee.”

  “Now, I know the two of you are related,” KC chuckled.

  CHESAPEAKE, VIRGINIA

  Monday, May 6, 2019

  FROM MILLSBORO, UNCLE directed them to drive a little over an hour south, across the state line to Pocomoke City, Maryland. They stopped in Pocomoke City only long enough for Mack to fill up the 4Runner’s tank. Before leaving Athena’s house, they’d replaced the 4Runner’s Montana plate with the Delaware plate from Athena’s Lexus, so Mack took the opportunity to also switch the plates back. He crumpled the Delaware plate into a ball like it was made of paper, not aluminum, and dropped it into the trash can at the pump.

  From Pocomoke City they took US 13 South until they reached the outskirts of Norfolk, Virginia.

  “You took a three-hour Uber?” Mack scoffed.

  “Oh, of course not!” Uncle scoffed right back. “I was living in Millsboro, but I can’t go home again since they found you at Athena’s. By now, the enemy has figured out that the house they assaulted belongs to my lawyer...”

  “Which means I can’t go home again,” Athena sighed. “I guess that explains the Canadian passport you gave me.”

  “Take the 64, Nephew. We’re bypassing Norfolk for Chesapeake.”

  “Is that where this safe house of yours is?” Mack grumbled.

  “More or less. Not far now, I promise.”

  Eventually, Uncle directed them south and east to a neighborhood called Albemarle Acres, to a non-descript house on Buxton Drive. Uncle reached into his bag and retrieved a garage door opener.

  “Just park in the garage,” he directed.

  Moments later, the garage door closed behind them. The garage had three separate bays. The middle bay held a Nissan Maxima sedan, and the far bay held a red Ram 1500 Rebel pickup truck.

  “I need a shower,” Athena declared as Uncle ushered them into the house. “We camped out all weekend, and I smell like it.”

  “Master bedroom is right here, Athena. Feel free to make yourself at home,” Uncle offered pointing to the doorway just beyond the mudroom vestibule the garage opened into.

  From there, the house opened into a great room that stretched from the front of the house to the back. The front third was a living room, the middle third a kitchen, and the back third a dining room. The other side of the house had a front and back bedroom that shared an en suite bath between them.

  Before Athena could enter the main bedroom, KC stepped in front of her, Glock 27 drawn and leading the way. Mack placed a hand on Athena’s shoulder and shook his head when she started to follow. Uncle just leaned against a wall, waiting. KC returned a few seconds later.

  “Clear.”

  “Give us a minute to clear the rest of the house, okay?” Mack suggested.

  Athena shrugged and sighed, but she complied.

  “And keep an eye on him,” KC suggested with a nod toward Uncle.

  Mack had his Rock Ultra CS-L in hand and proceeded into the great room. The house wasn’t very large, so sweeping it for potential threats took very little time. Mack returned to the mud room.

  “Okay, Athena, go ahead and take your shower. You want anything? Coffee, tea, a sandwich?”

  The lawyer shook her head. “No, thank you.” She paused in the doorway for a beat before stretching up and kissing Mack’s cheek. “You’re a sweetheart, and Kayleigh is a very lucky girl.”

  “I know it,” KC said from behind Mack.

  Once the door to the master suite closed behind her, Mack grabbed Uncle by the shoulder and had his pistol pointed in the general direction of the older man’s belly. “You and I need to have a quick little conversation.”

  “I’ll get the gear,” KC offered.

  “Thanks, babe,” Mack smiled as he shoved his long-lost relative into the living area of the great room. “Put your bag on the floor and take off your coat, sir.”

  “Well, at least you’re being polite about frisking me,” Uncle chuckled.

  “Mild paranoia is probably a family trait,” Mack retorted.

  A quick but thorough search relieved Uncle of a wallet, an iPhone, a cheap flip phone, a set of keys, some loose change, and a very high end tactical folding knife. KC returned with their heavy gear bags and traded her compact Glock for her Vector submachine gun. While she kept a weapon trained on Uncle, Mack searched the man’s bag. The very first thing he pulled out was a 9mm Springfield Armory 1911 EMP with two extra 9-round magazines.

  “A nine, Uncle? I’m insulted,” Mack snarked.

  “It wasn’t meant for you, Nephew.”

  Mack unloaded the compact pistol and ejected the round in the chamber. He frowned as he examined the bullet. “Steel frangible?” He sniffed the bullet. “Is that gold?”

  “Iron for the Fae minions, and gold for the demons they work for.”

  “That is very expensive ammo,” KC observed.

  “Which is why I only have twenty-five rounds of the stuff left,” Uncle said.

  “How much did you have to start with?” Mack asked as he continued to empty the contents of Uncle’s bag onto a coffee table, adding a laptop, a thick leather-bound book, and a wad of cloth turned out to be a pair of boxer shorts and a white tee-shirt.

  “Thirty. I used five rounds to kill the man who actually murdered your parents,” Uncle explained.

  Mack motioned for KC to put her gun away and sat down across from his uncle. “So, let’s start by talking about t
hat. Who killed my parents and why?”

  “That is going to be a very long story, and I don’t want to have to repeat myself when Athena eventually joins us,” Uncle sighed. He leaned back and rubbed his face with both hands. “The kitchen is fully stocked. I pay a housekeeper to come in every week and changed out whatever’s expired or near expiring. I visit once every other month. I told the neighbors this is my vacation home, so they wouldn’t wonder too much why I’m hardly ever here.”

  “How do you afford this, whatever home you were living in before, and all the money and supplies you’ve poured into the Double M?” KC asked.

  “Well, I live modestly, and I own a number of patents that have made me a very wealthy man.”

  “Patents?” Mack repeated.

  “I’m a bio-mechanical engineer. In addition to a variety of medical devices I’ve designed and patented over the years, I build prosthetic limbs for amputees or those born without arms and/or legs.”

  “Like Billy,” KC blurted out.

  “Yes,” Uncle confirmed. “The people that Mack reached out to happen to be colleagues of mine.”

  “So, is Billy supposed to be next on your list of mysterious donations to the Double M?” Mack scoffed.

  “As a matter of fact, yes, Nephew, because the child is so important to you,” Uncle replied calmly. He looked down at his hands in his lap. “I may not be directly involved in your life, but I have been keeping an eye on you and doing my best to take care of your family.” Uncle looked up. “Look, I was serious about that coffee, and I could really use a cup right now. Do you mind if I put a pot on to brew, or do you want to shoot me?”