Behold Darkness (Wolves of the Apocalypse Book 1)

by LC Champlin

  Time to get down to business. “What was that?” he whispered, wheeling toward an imaginary sound farther down the fence line.

  “I heard nothing,” Ali responded, crouched beside the chain mesh.

  “Get to work. I’m going to look.” Weapon up, Nathan stalked off.

  Ten yards later, he muttered into the mic, “Sri Cheel, you heard all that. How shall I proceed?” He untaped the PTT for the reply.

  “Carry on. I will deal with this.”

  “I copy. I’m leaving the radio in transmit.” Depressing the PTT, he reattached the tape before returning to Ali.

  “Well?” the Muslim asked as the cutters bit through the last diamond.

  “Rabbit. You first.” Nathan nodded toward the wire flap.

  Though he looked dubious, Ali obeyed, pushing through sideways, rifle first.

  “Keep going.” After Ali put a few yards between them, Nathan ducked through. “This way.” He motioned the murderer to follow him deeper into the lot. Five more car lengths and he could attempt to capture Captain Camel Fucker.

  “Captain Ali,” the terrorist’s HT crackled, “Mr. Serebus is to hear this.” Damn it, now?

  “Yes, Ustath.”

  Weapon at low ready, Nathan marched back to the mic. He unclipped it from its owner’s shoulder. “Well? I’m trying to get your data for you.”

  “Are you? If you proceed farther, know that I will be given no choice but to invest further in this mission with the assistance of your colleagues. I may be forced to terminate your contract as well.”

  An exchanged glare with Ali despite the dread that writhed in Nathan’s gut. “It’s five cars farther. I can’t teleport it to my pocket, you’re aware.”

  “Do not waste time.”

  At this point, using Ali as a hostage might prove more trouble than it was worth.

  With a snarl, Nathan started to turn away, then paused, eyes on the captain’s boots. “The cannibals!” Half leaping, half falling backward two steps, Nathan schooled his features into mingled horror and disgust.

  Ali stared at him. “What is wrong?”

  “Look.” Nathan pointed at Ali’s boots as if singling out a murderer at a trial. “You stepped in their infected oil.”

  The Arab stepped back by reflex, looking at his boots. “I don’t see any—”

  “Because it’s eating through your boots!” Nathan hissed, backing away. “I’ve seen it. It’s like acid.” Really he had no idea if it could, so maybe the terrorists didn’t know either.

  Turning a sick green, Ali reached down to unlace.

  “Wait!” Raising his weaponless left hand, Nathan shook his head. “If you get it on your hands, it will—”

  Not needing further explanation, Ali shoved his back against the nearest car and attempted to scrape his left boot off with his right. With the terrorist and his watching cronies engrossed in the endeavor, Nathan continued backing up. Too easy. Evidently Ali didn’t possess access to a vaccine or cure, despite his rank and connections.

  Five cars back. Crouching, Nathan reached under the car as if to retrieve something from the wheel well. “I have it.” He mimed stowing the invisible data in a vest pocket, then straightened.

  One boot off, Ali struggled with the second. If his brothers thought him infected, would they kill him now, or wait until they could verify his state?

  Movement to the left, behind the chain-link fence that split the lot. What the—? Nathan pivoted, weapon up, crouching behind the nearest car. Caucasian male, armed with an AR and aiming at the interlopers. No visible body armor, but he wore a baggy white T-shirt that could conceal a bullet-resistant vest. Sunglasses and a ball cap obscured his face.

  “Hold it!” the man yelled across the checkerboard of parked cars. “Drop your weapons! Hands up!”

  Chapter 78

  Plan C

  Short Change Hero – The Heavy

  Albin worked his way east along the fence under the concealment of brush trees. Due to the interference of the terrorist captain and the cannibals, no rendezvous could occur. While killing the captain appealed, his behavior indicated intentions other than executing Mr. Serebus.

  The fact that Mr. Serebus had elected to broadcast the entire exchange to the captain’s superior indicated he would return to the terrorists’ lair. His motive must involve the data.

  At the building’s corner, the rubbish trees morphed to manicured shrubs. Albin climbed over the fence at a concealed section, then continued along the wall, around a patio, up to the edge of the car park. Overhead the connecting walkway provided cover.

  Pausing, he pressed the radio PTT: “Ms. Behrmann, we need to return to the building while the snipers are distracted. Go now and I will cover you.”

  “I’ll be fine. Somebody needs to keep an eye out.”

  “Our priority is to gain the roof and prepare to secure it.”

  “Mors ab alto, huh. Go first; I can keep watch. It’s not far to the door from here.”

  “I’ll meet you there.” With that, he made a last survey of the area before sprinting across Harbor Street in the shadow of the walkway.

  At the building, he made for the rear corner. He reached the service door and ducked through, but kept it open a slit, Beretta at the ready.

  ++++++++++++

  The newcomer dropped behind a car, stabilizing the AR on the hood as he kept Nathan in his sights. “Drop your weapons! Get off my lot!”

  The plan could still work. While the lot guard was distracting Ali and the snipers, Nathan could slip off among the cars and out of range. But . . . what about Birk? As long as Cheel had the researcher, the information to control the cannibal spread could still fall into terrorist hands. Fuck.

  Now Nathan needed a plan C. A double-tap of warning shots rattled from the AR. A cacophony of horns, sirens, and whistles erupted from the man’s vicinity. Aha! Not a cannibal, but the lot defender would do for an excuse. He might even survive.

  At the same time, Nathan slammed backward into a car in a perfect impression of surprise, triggering its alarm also. Plan C commenced.

  “Leave!” Nathan roared at the rifleman. “They’re going to kill you!” The Springfield remained online.

  The man had taken cover behind a white Impala, rifle eye still on the trespassers. “Next one’s not a war—”

  BAM!

  The 1911 roared as Nathan shoved his shoulder into his ear and covered the other with his free hand. The warning shot clanged into the car nearest the rifleman. The concussion of a .45 firing triggered the surrounding car alarms. At least eight cars were now screaming. Nathan backed up between two vehicles, angled right, mule kicked the front right panel of the car behind him. More sirens. Anyone or anything in a quarter-mile radius now knew something big was going down nearby.

  “What are you doing!” Ali yelled over the din. In only sock feet he hobbled back toward the hole in the fence.

  “Go!” Nathan bawled, half to the terrorist, half to the lot defender.

  Bullets punched through the windshield of the car on Nathan’s left as he dodged around a Nissan.

  BAM!

  Over the shoulder blind shot with the .45, well clear of the defender. “Leave!”

  BANG! BANGBANG!

  Crystal exploded behind Nathan as he dove for cover. Scrambling to all fours, he crouch-ran for the fence, hot on Ali’s sock-clad heels. The door to escape via this route closed. Hopefully this mess gave Albin time to maneuver.

  “Kill the infidel!” the terrorist cried into his mic.

  AK rounds boomed from the Doorway building and its sister. Lead pounded the defender’s shield car, forced him back.

  Nathan glanced over his shoulder. The man tried to sidestep to another vehicle. No, you stupid fuck, don’t—

  Too late: three shots, one fall. Red spread over the white shirt as the man sprawled backward over a Ford Escape. Nathan halted, straightened as his stomach clenched. The rifle clattered t
o the asphalt as the body slid into a heap against the front tire.

  ++++++++++++

  Gunfire popped from down the street in the vicinity of the rental-car park. The building angle blocked Albin’s view. Automatic weapon fire rattled from above.

  “Ms. Behrmann, what occurred?”

  “They’re shooting at . . . somebody in the lot. Now the other man is down. Nathan and the gunman with him are safe.”

  Albin let out a breath. “Stay low and keep me informed. Please,” he added. She might yet earn her keep. “I’m climbing to the third floor now.”

  Chapter 79

  Reset

  Drive – Incubus

  “Mr. Serebus.” The Indian-English accent came over Ali’s radio, barely audible through the car alarms. With the threat dispatched, the Arab dog now waited beside the fence. He held his empty AK with the butt down, ready to improvise.

  Eyes straight ahead, Nathan turned to face the Doorway building as if he locked glares with Cheel. Four strides brought him to Ali and the radio.

  “Return with Captain Ali directly. The terms of our agreement are clear?”

  Nod, wave.

  “We should have followed my way,” Ali muttered.

  “Which would have gotten us both killed like that poor bastard.” Nathan jerked a thumb toward the lot and its corpse. “Now move.”

  With a last glower, Ali pushed through the opening in the fence. After he limped four yards on, Nathan followed. Two rounds gone, which left six if it started with one in the chamber and the standard seven in the mag.

  Ali looked around at the watching buildings. “How are you going to escape?”

  “Escape?” Nathan repeated as he scanned the area for cannibals. “Right now your boss will kill me and the hostages if we don’t hurry.”

  “But—”

  “If you have as much clout with Cheel as you claim,” Nathan snapped, striding toward Doorway, “it should be no problem to get me and the others out.” He smirked back at Ali, who moved at half the pace thanks to rough asphalt. “None of the cannibal’s oil reached your skin, I take it?”

  “No.” Determination lined the Arab’s face as he broke into a trot along a smooth stretch to catch up.

  “You’re certain?”

  “I am not trying to eat you, yes?” Ali came abreast of Nathan, who edged right to keep distance.

  Up Harbor Street, past Johanson’s, then the vacant lot. All quiet on the western front, and the eastern, southern, and northern for that matter.

  Nathan pulled around the dump truck, which he’d used to cover the approach. Four dark figures milled behind a lone parked car ahead.

  “There.” He pointed the Springfield at the vehicle. The figures moved with mechanical jerks, unconcerned about drawing attention.

  Ali squinted ahead. “Return my AK’s magazine and I will—”

  “The snipers will do the job. We need to get to the front door ASAP.”

  Veering right, Nathan trotted along Doorway’s wall, weapon up. Almost there. Clear around the corner, so he proceeded. Ahead lay the main entrance and relative safety, if he called falling back into the hands of terrorists safety.

  Then two of the cannibals burst from around the car and loped toward him. He broke into a sprint.

  Thud, thud, slap. Running, falling, lunging. Eating ground.

  Nathan caught the main door’s handle, yanked it open and threw himself in. Gunfire hammered outside, peppering the ground behind the cannibals. Then bullets slammed into the bodies, kicking them forward as the gunmen learned to lead their targets. Yes, use that ammo.

  One, two, three, four.

  Eyes wide in terror, Ali dashed inside. “The others,” he panted into his mic. More gunfire answered. The remaining cannibals, which had split up to circle around in a pincer movement, stumbled, fell in masses of gore and entrails.

  ++++++++++++

  Ducking into the lift cage, Albin began to climb the mesh and support beams.

  “They’re coming back now,” Behrmann’s voice crackled. “Hold on, we have cannibals! But they haven’t seen Nathan yet. He’s coming right past your door.”

  Albin tensed to control a sudden urge to drop to the floor, fling the door open, and drag Mr. Serebus inside.

  “He’s at the corner, but the cannibals are moving in! Now he’s gone around the front of the building. The gunman is running too . . . He just went around the corner.”

  Albin stared up the shaft. Keep climbing. Mr. Serebus howled with the wolves now. The terrorists wanted the data secure and would protect him until they collected it.

  Chapter 80

  Win-Win

  Trenches – Pop Evil

  With a sigh, Nathan turned to face the four terrorists surrounding him. Cheel emerged from a hall to the right, smiling, and strode toward the newcomers.

  “I knew you would not disappoint me, Mr. Serebus.”

  Bullshit. “It’s in my best interest not to.”

  “It seems your former ally drew first blood.” Nod to Nathan’s throat.

  The hand Nathan put to his neck came away bloody. The scratch must have come from the concrete chunks Albin’s second bullet kicked out. “Not enough for his purposes, fortunately.”

  Nathan reached to open the carrier pocket that contained the USB drive. The guards tensed, rifles centering on his chest. He halted but raised a brow. “Come now.”

  Cheel waved for the men to stand at ease. “Salaam. He carries a pistol in his other hand. If he wished to cause harm, he would have done so already. But so my men do not act rashly,” he addressed Nathan, “do hand the weapons and ammunition to Captain Ali.”

  How easy to drop and roll, start pulling the trigger—and die anyway. He slapped the pistol into Ali’s hand and not his face, despite the Arab’s smirk. Next came the ammo and combat knife.

  “Proceed.” Cheel nodded to Nathan’s armor pocket.

  “At last,” Cheel murmured as Nathan produced the flash drive. “Now the moment of truth.”

  The chief accepted the drive and strode to the security desk. Nathan and Ali trailed. Swinging around the desk, Cheel lowered himself into an office chair before a VAIO laptop. A blocky, black port adapter jutted from the VAIO’s left.

  Yes, the moment of truth—for everyone. One, two—

  Cheel held the drive up and examined the connector. He glanced back at Ali. “Captain Ali, kindly fetch the doctor.”

  With a curt nod, the dog departed, reaching for his HT mic as he went.

  Seconds crawled like hours. Idly Cheel ran his thumb along the USB drive’s connector. Nathan swallowed at the thrill of the hunt that rippled through him.

  “It’ll be password-protected, no doubt,” Nathan observed. “Will Dr. Birk give them up?” Of course the cowardly bastard would, even if he wasn’t already working with the goddamned terrorists.

  “He will be more than happy to assist.” Cheel smiled. “He always is.”

  Footsteps from the hall, a whining voice: Birk. Nathan fought down the smirk that threatened to break. A moment later the babbling researcher emerged, Ali to the rear with a blank look on his face.

  At the sight of Nathan, Birk halted so quickly the captain had to sidestep to avoid a collision.

  Nathan smiled. “Fancy seeing you here, Doctor. You should have informed me you were working with these gentlemen. That would have saved us all time, effort, and manpower.”

  “You dangled me over the roof,” Birk replied through his teeth, spine rigid.

  “Ah-ah.” Nathan raised a finger of correction. “I only threatened to. Big difference.”

  “Dr. Birk,” Cheel broke in as he rose, “please access the data so I may verify its authenticity.” He gestured to the now-vacant office chair before the laptop and USB drive. “It would be a terrible shame if we made the trip here for nothing.” Steel glittered in the tone.

  Birk stalked to the desk and plopped into the seat. “Of course. Where
’s the drive?”

  Silence fell on the assembled like an asbestos blanket.

  “Is this not it?” Cheel indicated the flash drive, feigning ignorance. Why? The port adapter on the laptop screamed that he already knew what form the drive should come in: not one that used a USB port.

  The researcher lifted it gingerly. Nathan could hear the gears in Birk’s mind spinning in panic. Then Birk’s eyes narrowed a nanometer; he’d made his decision.

  Nathan braced himself, excitement humming through his nerves at the challenge. Come on, impress me!

  “The files may be here, but this isn’t the drive I downloaded them on.”

  “What are you saying, Doctor?” Cheel’s impassive expression indicated he knew the answer.

  “Let’s make certain.” Birk inserted the stick into the USB port, opened the media. Several clicks later he sat back in triumph with the contents on display. PowerPoints, a few MP4s, Word documents. They looked to contain Doorway Pharm info, but judging from Cheel’s glower, the drive lacked the desired files. Albin truly required a raise after this prop!

  Birk’s lip curled back in a sneer he aimed at Nathan. “I’m saying, this bastard who had the nerve to call me a traitor is trying to cheat you. Dear me, Serebus, were you really stupid enough to believe they wouldn’t verify the data? That’s part of what they pay me for.”

  Let the BS begin. “You know, Doctor,” Nathan began, tone smooth, “you really should have sided with me rather than that traitorous scumbag Conrad. He stabbed me in the back, yet you thought he wouldn’t do the same to you if it benefited him?”

  “You don’t know a damn thing—”

  “I must give you credit for a brilliant plan and the ability to think on your feet.” Resting a casual elbow on the desk’s counter, Nathan leaned in with a grin. “You only forgot one thing.”