by Brian Fuller
“He was the source for the Blank Massacre,” Mars reported, “and the failure of many missions besides. He confessed to providing them with a technical layout of Trevex. He claims the communication protocols and encryption keys are intact. He said he wouldn’t know how to compromise those if he wanted to. I want to say in his behalf that he regrets what he’s done, but he couldn’t let his wife and boys be slaughtered.”
“Did he have a Dread handler?” Gideon asked.
“Yes, two. A man at first and a woman lately. They never used names. I think we can rest easy now.”
Ramis scrunched his eyebrows. “Rest easy? You seem to forget what Devon Qyn was doing to Helo in that bathroom. Devon has a system for breaking down Ash Angels and finding out who their past relations were so he can blackmail them for information. We thought the problem was bad when only Blanks were suspects. Now anyone could be. We’ve learned that protecting humans by betraying Ash Angels does not turn an Ash Angel into a Dread. This changes the game forever.”
“So you believe Helo now?” Simeon asked.
Ebenezer stepped in. “We believe most of the particulars. We still doubt Devon has some sort of controlling device for the Dreads—and that Dahlia is somehow Aclima, which would make her a six-thousand-year-old Dread. We should focus on this Devon Qyn. He’s the threat right now.”
“What do we know about him?” Gideon asked.
“Well, he founded Qyn Maritime over twenty years ago, mostly from buying smaller companies and gobbling up their assets. He appointed a Marick Ivanich as the CEO five years later and really hasn’t been involved much in the company since then. Devon, we believe, has been instrumental in using cash from his investments to start up the dummy corporations he uses to move money around and do whatever manufacturing he’s been working on. He has staggering wealth all stashed away securely in banks and funds all over the world.
“His involvement in Qyn Maritime makes him an absolute nightmare. He can get things to and from anywhere in the world. He’s got cargo ships and container ships of all types and varieties at his disposal. Add his wealth and his Dread support, and we’ve got a serious problem.”
“Do we know where we can hit him?” Mars asked. “Where are they making these new weapons?”
“We don’t know,” Ebenezer admitted. “We’re working on it.”
“I’ve developed a three-prong strategy,” Ramis suggested suddenly. “First, we need to complicate his corporate operations by tipping off federal investigators to the dummy corporations. Second, we need to cut off the head of the snake with a standing kill order on Devon. We find him, we take him down. Third, we need more intelligence, and that means we need to ramp up Dread interrogations. Before we proceed with details, however, I would like the room cleared. I believe we’ve had enough testimony to get our bearings on the events that have transpired so that we can move forward.”
“Agreed,” Ebenezer said.
Helo couldn’t help but think the man was just happy to be rid of them. Helo was torn between wanting to go and wanting to find out more.
“Very well,” Gideon said.
“What are we supposed to do?” Helo asked.
“You’re all to be reassigned,” Ramis said. “What form that will take is still uncertain. You’ll be with us on Deep 7 for a few days until we get everything sorted out. You are dismissed.”
Everyone stood, Dolorem exhaling to express his annoyance. Cassandra took off like a shot. Just before Helo reached the stairs that led to the elevator, a sudden thought struck him, something about Tela’s song that had run through his mind nearly constantly since the air disaster.
“Excuse me, Archus Ebenezer,” Helo said, returning and approaching the dais. “Can I ask if one of the ships under the control of Qyn Maritime is named the East Wind?”
“I don’t know,” he answered with some irritation. “Why?”
“Just a hunch.”
“We don’t have time to play hunches, Helo. Dismissed.”
Helo returned to his companions, and the five of them crammed into the elevator, heading back up.
“You know,” Corinth said, “I thought seeing the Archai would be, I don’t know, more awesome or holy or dignified or something. They seemed to fight as much as the rest of us.”
Magdelene smiled. “Not as much, Corinth. More. That was a tame meeting by most standards. I think they tried to keep it under control to make sure we felt confident that they had things well in hand. I can read Gideon like a book. He’s scared. They’re all scared. Try not to take anything they do to us in the next few days too seriously. I think they’re fishing.”
“Yeah,” Corinth said. “I hate to say it, but it seemed like Archus Ramis was the only one who had a plan.”
“Ramis has a plan for putting on his socks,” Cassandra added. “That’s just Ramis. He’s had so many three-pronged plans they should change his name to Trident.”
Corinth laughed. “Nice one, Cassie. Getting that sense of humor back?”
She belted him in the face with her elbow, rocking his head backward so that it hit the shiny elevator wall. “Now that’s funny.”
The elevator doors opened, the two guards that had shadowed him earlier waiting with their hands behind their backs. They moved aside as everyone disembarked. One Michael put his fingers on his earpiece. His hand shot out, clamping around Helo’s arm. “The Archai has requested your presence.”
“I was just there twenty seconds ago.”
They responded by pulling him onto the elevator with them and punching up the council chamber. The last thing Helo saw as the doors shut was Magdelene’s surprised, curious look. When he arrived back in the council chamber, the chatter of the Archai filled the room, all of them intent on the screens in front of them.
“Mute screens,” Ramis said as Helo approached the dais.
“That’s not necessary,” Diarchus Joan contradicted.
“Agreed,” Grand Archus Gabriel joined in.
Helo peeked behind him, finding all three screens lit up—one with a map, one with a picture of a cargo ship, and the last with some sort of documentation.
“Well, Helo,” Joan said, casting a sideways glance at Ebenezer. “It is lucky I had time to play your hunch. It took all of ten seconds to find out that, yes, Qyn Maritime does have a ship called the East Wind, that, yes, it is bound for Chicago, and that, yes, it is due to land in about thirty-six hours. It came out of the port of Vladivostok, a well-known hub for the shipping of vehicles and metal products, which, as it turns out, the East Wind is carrying. So what we want to know is how you came up with the name. Did Dahlia tell it to you?”
“No,” Helo replied. “Do you know who Tela Mirren is?”
“I don’t.”
Helo explained her origins and her gift. “Her words and imagery are like the visions of Cryptics, but if you look at the lyrics of her last two songs, you will see that the troubles with Goldbow were described in a roundabout way, and this last one she sang has something to do with what’s going on now.”
After some searching, they pulled up the video of Tela’s TV performance and watched it with rapt attention, Archus Lux and Ebenezer typing notes on their tablets.
“There are clear references to weapon sanctification,” Archus Lux offered after the video closed. “Goldbow might be the one alluded to in the first two stanzas.”
Archus Ebenezer stood and started pacing. “And if we conclude that the east wind is actually this ship, we must consider that it is carrying cargo that will bring some sort of metaphorical tempest. Shedim are associated with elements, so it’s possible the Vexus collection that’s been witnessed is to create a Sheid with power over water or air or both. A powerful one.”
“Who is the flesh and heart singing?” Diarchus Joan asked.
“Tela’s the one who sang this,” Ebenezer suggested.
“No,” Helo said loudly. They all looked at him. “Sorry. But the flesh and heart are of the angel of the first two stanzas. I�
�ve thought a lot about this song over the last few days. I never connected Goldbow to the angel until Archus Lux mentioned it. This whole song is about a boat being blown in. Goldbow was a SEAL. He knows ships and storms and the sea. Maybe it means he will warn us somehow.”
“What kind of boat is that?” Gideon asked, referring to a picture of the enormous East Wind.
“It’s registered as a roll on/roll off,” Ramis answered. “They carry vehicles. The boat is designed with multiple decks. The vehicles can be driven on and driven off, so there is no need for cranes or lifts to load and unload. They could, if they were clever, hide weapons in the cars.”
“We need eyes on that ship. Now,” Gideon ordered. “How do we do it?”
While the Archai started bandying about options, Lux’s eyes seemed pegged to her tablet, her face growing steadily more alarmed until she stood from her chair.
“Archus Ramis, Archus Mars,” she said over the din. “You’re going to want to see this.”
The room went silent.
“What is it, Lux?” Gideon asked.
“We’ve received more than twenty-five visions and dreams in the last half hour. Multiple events. Now it’s twenty-six.”
“Are they centered in Chicago?” Joan asked.
“We’ve only got locations for fourteen of them so far, and no.”
“Then, where?”
Archus Lux tapped the pad, and fourteen blinking red dots showed up on the map on one of the big screens. “Everywhere.”
“Do we know when?”
“Initial analysis suggests in the next forty-eight hours.”
Gideon leaned forward in his chair to better view Lux. “What kind of action do the visions and dreams suggest?”
Lux swallowed. “Death. On a large scale. Schools. Malls. Theaters.”
Everyone studied the map on the wall, Lux adding two more locations as they came in to her tablet.
“The strategy is simple but effective,” Archus Mars said, stubby hands crossed in front of him.
“They’re spreading us out,” Helo explained for him, finally turning his gaze on Gideon. “They’re going to make us choose between raiding the East Wind and saving normals.”
Chapter 36
Tempest Raging
Deep 7 hummed with frantic activity, tensions rising as each hour passed and more dreams and visions of destruction and mayhem poured in from the Occulum. The map was a mass of flashing red pinpricks by the time the Archai dismissed Helo so they could start coordinating with the Medius to get operatives to the hot spots.
Helo rejoined Magdelene, Cassandra, Corinth, and Dolorem in the common area. Cassandra and Corinth were working through clipboard loads of forms. Well, Corinth was. Cassandra had constructed a veritable air force of paper planes with her stack of paper, throwing them around the common room as she finished them. Dolorem ignored his, watching TV, his hands folded in his lap. Helo spied his own column of forms nearby. The Ash Angel Organization really needed to go electronic before they deforested the planet.
Helo brought them together and filled them in on what he had learned. Magdelene congratulated him on steering the Archai in the right direction, though Helo gave Tela the credit.
“What are they going to do with us?” Corinth wondered aloud. “They can’t put us out to pasture right now.”
Dolorem shrugged. “I guess I should have told them I’d be happy to help. I think the AAO is misguided, but this isn’t a time for philosophical arguments.”
Helo sat and pulled the hefty clipboard onto his lap to launch into the tedium the others had already started. He had barely managed a fourth of the stack when the elevator opened and Grand Archus Gideon strode out flanked by Archus Ramis and Archus Mars.
Helo’s brow furrowed. This didn’t look good. The three men regarded the group gravely.
The others put their forms down and prepared to stand, but Archus Gideon waved them back down. Archus Ramis looked at Cassandra’s paper-airplane display and frowned. Gideon held a tablet in his hands and looked at Helo as if to size him up, his noble features set like a man preparing for battle.
“I have your assignments,” he announced. “We’ll need to get you into envelopes and out of here immediately. As you may know, we’ve received a number of disturbing visions and dreams that indicate the Dreads are going to perpetrate a massive attack, and not against Ash Angels. Early analysis shows they are planning atrocities at schools, hospitals, sporting events, and anywhere else there are a lot of people. Thanks to Helo, we’ve surmised that they are spreading our operatives thin to make way for the East Wind to dock unmolested.” He paused, and his gaze lingered on Cassandra for a moment. “While we were planning a way to take the East Wind, we received the following video message through Goldbow’s phone. It was recorded about an hour ago.”
He tapped the tablet and turned it toward them, Goldbow’s familiar face filling the screen. Dreads had tied his arms behind his back, and he sat in a rusted folding chair, shirtless, wearing an oil-smudged pair of oversized jeans. A single bulb hung from the ceiling in a nondescript white room. Helo shook his head. Even after what Goldbow had done, it was hard to see him like this. The room didn’t give enough detail to provide a clue as to his whereabouts.
“Read it,” an unfamiliar voice dripping with malice prompted from behind the camera.
Goldbow appeared a little confused, eyes blinking erratically. The Dreads had torched him. If anyone had an ocean of guilt to drown in, it was Goldbow.
The former SEAL struggled to focus on something behind the camera. “In thirty-six hours, we will launch assaults across the country unless the following conditions are met. First, all Ash Angels in the greater Chicago area must be redeployed elsewhere immediately. Second, the Ash Angel known as Helo must arrive alone at the coordinates indicated on the screen within the next twenty-four hours. No phone. No tracking devices. If either of these conditions is not met, the attacks will roll forward as planned, resulting in massive loss of life. That is all. This will be the last message you receive.”
The video wobbled and then, camera running, an unseen hand hurled the phone at the wall, picture dissolving on impact. Gideon punched up the tablet again, showing them a map of Chicago and Lake Michigan.
“These are the coordinates,” he said, a red dot floating out in the middle of the vast lake, miles away from shore.
“You’re not actually sending him out there!” Dolorem exclaimed.
“They’ve got no choice, Dolorem,” Helo said, seeing the predicament. “Yes, it’s probably a trick, and they will probably go through with their attacks anyway, but if there’s even a chance that my going out there can stall it, we have to take it.”
The Grand Archus nodded his head. “I hoped you would understand. This is the second time we’re going to send you into the wolf’s den, Helo. Divine providence saved you last time; we hope that happens again.”
Cassandra stood, clipboard and forms spilling from her lap to the floor. “Dolorem was the divine providence last time. There’s nobody out in the middle of that lake who can help him. This is just Dread BS. It doesn’t matter if you send Helo, Ronald McDonald, or a circus monkey out there. They will attack. Devon Qyn wants Helo so he can get revenge for Primus.”
“Be that as it may,” Archus Ramis said, “Helo has come to the same conclusion we have. We must risk his life so we can have as much time as possible to get our people in place to protect the normals.”
“Do you at least believe what he’s been telling you now?” Cassandra asked, taking her seat. “Or are you going to keep treating him like some sort of Dread collaborator like everyone thought I was?”
“We’ve always believed Helo,” Ramis said.
“Oh, please, Ramis,” Cassandra retorted.
“Listen,” Ramis urged her. “We believe what Helo said. We just don’t believe everything the Dreads have told him or tried to make him believe. There’s a difference, and it’s our job to sort it out. We’ll do everyth
ing to protect him.”
Mars stepped forward. “We’ve got Michael teams in nearby cities ready to fly to the East Wind to pull him and Goldbow out if we can.”
Cassandra shook her head. “That’ll just get a bunch of Michaels killed along with Helo.”
“It’s okay, Cassandra,” Helo said. “I’ll do this. It has to be done.” If Cain wanted revenge, then so be it. It might be a chance to burn the old bastard.
She rolled her eyes and sat back down, zoning out.
“Can you handle a boat by yourself?” Ramis asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. These are the rest of the assignments. Magdelene, I need you to be the courier to get everyone out. We’ll have you meet up with other couriers and pass most of the envelopes on. I want you to coordinate the evacuations of Ash Angels out of Chicago after getting Helo’s envelope situated on the boat. Dolorem, we could really use you right now. You were a team leader once. Will you help us?”
He nodded. “Just don’t make me hold a gun.”
“Thank you. You will assist Magdelene with the evac in Chicago. Corinth, we’re sending you back to the Southwest. Await our instructions on the other side of the next dawn. Cassandra, I need you to meet with Dr. Esther here at Deep 7 for a psychological evaluation.”
“I am not going to Dr. Esther, Ramis,” she stated forcefully.
“You will not leave Deep 7 until you pass an evaluation,” Ramis countered unflinchingly. “That is all.”
“You can’t keep me here!”
Archus Ramis looked her in the eye. “Yes, I can. I have trusted and supported you, Cassandra, so don’t look at me like I’m some kind of Judas. All of us here know what happened to you, and I will not let you back into the world until you are healed enough not to hurt yourself and others. You can curse and rage all you want, but I will do what’s best for you whether you like it or not.”
Cassandra’s eyes boiled with tears, but she said nothing as Ramis strode off. Grand Archus Gideon regarded her with pity and then turned his gaze to the rest of them.