Behold Darkness (Wolves of the Apocalypse Book 1)

by LC Champlin

  “Be the change you want to see?” She looked up at him with a shadow of the pilgrim’s longing in her face.

  Quotes from Machiavelli queued. Top among them were A man who wants to act virtuously in every way necessarily comes to grief among so many who are not virtuous and It is much more secure to be feared than to be loved. However, Sun Tzu pushed them aside with “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”

  “How?”

  How did she expect him to know the secret to finding her existence’s meaning? “Experience.”

  Mr. Serebus spasmed and snorted. He grunted as he jerked into full consciousness. He pushed himself higher in the bed and looked around with the familiar ready-for-action glint in his dark eyes.

  Albin heaved an inward sigh. Five minutes of peace evidently filled the man’s daily quota.

  “Right, enough lying around,” Mr. Serebus announced. Then his eyes focused on Behrmann. “Ah, hi, Jo. Long time no see.” He wore a grin that owed its cheer to medication.

  “Hi, Mr. Serebus.” Behrmann raised a hand in greeting.

  “Go back to sleep, sir,” Albin ordered. Then he turned to Behrmann. “Excuse me for a moment.”

  “Sure.”

  The word had barely left her mouth when Albin eased Mr. Serebus back into bed. The attorney leaned in, centimeters from his employer’s ear, and whispered the time-honored wisdom every Conrad heard at least once before entering the wider world.

  When Albin stood back a few moments later, Mr. Serebus stared with hollow eyes at the curtain before him. “You’re right, as usual, Albin.”

  “Go to sleep, sir.” Albin pulled the blanket back up to his charge’s chest.

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. Serebus murmured as he closed his eyes.

  “Ms. Josephine,” Albin began.

  “I should let you two relax.” She voiced his thought. “I’ll poke around and see if I can find anything interesting.” She turned to leave, then looked over her shoulder. “Thank you, Albin.”

  Chapter 99

  He’s Not Dead, Jim

  Unsteady – X Ambassadors

  Nathan opened one eye a crack, then forced the other open. He moved to stretch, and the tube on the inside of his chest reminded him why he lay in the infirmary. “Erg.” The drugs had faded a bit. Clearer thinking came alongside clearer pain.

  Glancing down, he poked the dressing with a bandaged hand.

  “Stop.”

  Nothing escaped Albin. With a half smile Nathan slowly raised his hands in surrender.

  “I still have that duct tape,” the blond drawled from his place to the right.

  “I’m not touching anything. I’m as rested as I can get, though, so if you would kindly fetch one of the staff?” He angled so he could look over his shoulder at Albin, whose expression resembled a disgruntled snow leopard’s.

  Voices outside stopped Albin’s reply. The curtains slid aside to admit a burly man with a ginger crew cut. He wore fatigues under his lab coat. Even at Nathan’s full height he would’ve had to look up two inches to make eye contact. “Hello, Mr. Serebus.”

  Turning to his employer, Albin explained, “This is Lieutenant Colonel James Wozniak. He performed the procedure.”

  “Call me Jim,” the officer said, a grin on his broad face as he extended his hand to Nathan. Firm grip, easy manner, and the skills to save lives.

  “Nice to meet, you, sir. Please, call me Nathan. You did a fine job.”

  “Apparently so.” Jim circled to the left to inspect his handiwork. “How you feeling?”

  Nathan moved his arm to provide a clear view. “Like I’m ready to have this out and stop cluttering up your infirmary.”

  “I bet.” Jim straightened, cast a critical eye over his charge’s injuries. “What’s your pain level, one to ten?”

  “Three.”

  “Three?” The officer raised a brow.

  “Four?”

  “You really want to get out of here, don’t you. I know you’re not a cheap date with the meds. Lemme get your pulse.”

  After the officer finished, Nathan asked, “Did they bring in any of the bastards who caused this?”

  Jim pulled a penlight from his coat pocket. “Nope.” He flashed the light in Nathan’s eyes. “They’re better off dead anyway.”

  “And not because of the virgins?”

  With a chuckle, Jim reached into his pocket for his stethoscope. “Let’s hear your lungs.” After a moment, the officer reported, “Sounds good. Well, Nathan, looks like you might be right. I’ll shoot an X-ray to make sure. Give me a minute or three, okay?”

  The big man gave a wave before he slipped back out between the curtains. Then they opened again, enough for Jim to look in. “You have a visitor.”

  “Is it okay if I come in?” asked a familiar female voice. He stepped aside to reveal Josephine, who wore an expression of innocence.

  “Of course.” Get the game face on for Meet the Press.

  To his right, Albin stood and took a step forward. Stand down for a moment. “Ms. Josephine.” The blond greeted her with what constituted a cool smile in anyone else, but for him equaled a friendly grin.

  “Albin.” She gave an actual friendly grin.

  First-name basis and cordiality? Would wonders never cease! Albin Conrad had actually made a friend.

  “Ms. Behrmann. I’m glad to see you’re safe,” Nathan managed after picking his mental jaw up off the floor. It seemed like he’d seen her recently, but it mingled with his dreams.

  “Please, call me Josephine.” She moved to his left, gave him a pained smile.

  Albin cleared his throat. “She was instrumental in the counter operations’ success. She performed admirably, even delivering suppressive fire in the final confrontation.” Pride warmed his tone, indicating he had played a role in her competence.

  Nathan’s brows climbed. “High praise indeed if it comes from Albin.”

  “Thanks. It was . . .” She glanced at Albin, who remained neutral. “It was good to make an impact out there.”

  Giving Nathan a once-over, she shifted topics: “You’re looking better than earlier.”

  “Thanks.” He settled back into the bed. “Albin says I wasn’t under for the procedure, but I don’t remember anything after Rodriguez pulled me up. It’s a bit disturbing to have amnesia. I don’t suppose anyone had an enterprising spirit to . . . film what happened?” He smiled at Josephine with an open, innocent expression.

  “Well of course—”

  “No,” Albin looked over his glasses at her.

  “Ah.” Josephine tapped her phone with her knuckles as she vacillated. “You should be glad you don’t remember.” She forced the smile of someone who’s received a burnt entrée yet has to compliment the chef. “You were going downhill fast, so they sedated you a little and—and Albin helped hold you down—”

  “Hold me down?” Nathan looked to Albin, but the curtains absorbed the blond’s attention.

  “Albin said something to you, though, and you calmed down. Then the doctor, you know . . .” She made a slicing, then stabbing gesture.

  At the words, pain dug its talons into Nathan’s side, around the drain. “Ah.” Wincing. “Maybe I’ll watch the video later.” Pause as his stomach settled. “And . . . thank you for all you’ve done. You wanted a story; I hope this counts.”

  “Does it ever!” She gave an incredulous shake of her head.

  “Also, thank you in advance for spinning it to benefit us all.”

  She studied him. “You’re welcome.”

  “What are your plans now that you have your exclusive? Are you going back to the ABC chopper crew?”

  “Are you kidding? I want to see how this story ends.”

  “Very good.” Then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Albin.”

  “Sir?” The blond moved to his original place at the bed’s right.

  �
�Again, my deepest gratitude for your loyalty.” Nathan held his right hand out. Albin looked at it but didn’t budge. “This time I really am just going to shake your hand.”

  With a smile of amusement, Albin complied. “If you did not deserve my loyalty, I would not grant it.”

  “You can have all the vacation days you want after this—”

  “So I may work twice as hard after you make a hash of things in my absence? No, sir.”

  Chapter 100

  Neo Nineveh

  Inside the Monster – Brainstorm

  The curtains slid back to admit Jim and a female tech who pushed a portable X-ray.

  Jim grinned. “Glad to see you guys are in good spirits.”

  After shooting and reading the chest X-ray, Jim sidled to Nathan’s left. “Let’s get you ready to go, eh?” He reached into his pocket, produced a syringe, which he held up. “Morphine. One for the road.”

  “Um.” More morphine meant less mental acuity. “I—”

  “Yes,” Albin answered for him, pinning his employer with the Shut-It glare.

  Nathan nodded to Jim.

  As Jim reached for the IV port closest to Nathan, a man in scrubs arrived with a steel cart carrying various packages.

  “Give us a minute?” Jim requested of Albin and Josephine as the nurse stepped out and pulled the curtain closed.

  The officer fixed Nathan with a deadly serious look. “I bought you guys at least three hours with the morphine. I pushed for six, due to the Ativan, but they’re not going to wait that long.”

  Cold sliced through Nathan’s spine and limbs. “You mean the DHS and FEMA.”

  “Among others. You and your friends need to get your stories straight. These people are not your friends.”

  Trust no one. In addition to his role as a medical professional, even this congenial man could be working for the government as an interrogator.

  “Now that I’ve got that out of the way,” Jim continued, “one on the rocks, coming right up.”

  As the medication hit Nathan’s blood stream, relaxation flooded him, made the pain only an annoyance. “I wanted a Percocet this morning, but this is even better.”

  “Careful what you wish for.”

  After tucking a pad under Nathan’s left side, Jim donned gloves and face shield and started removing the bandage around the chest tube.

  “Why are you helping us, Jim?” Nathan grimaced at the hose that protruded from his side and the two-inch incision.

  “I’m medical. Medical doesn’t play well with others, and neither do I.”

  “Except you’re playing on our team for the moment.”

  “Yeah.” Jim glanced up. “Deep breath, hold it, bear down. Ready?”

  Nathan nodded.

  “Ready, set, go.”

  Bloody hell! The tube slithered out, dragging across the inside of the chest cavity and leaving nausea in its wake.

  “Breathe,” the officer ordered as he placed a dressing over the incision. “I keep up on the news reports. Then when your buddy Marvin Bridges dragged in here—”

  “Marv—”

  “Keep breathing,” Jim ordered before listening to his patient’s lungs.

  Marvin Bridges. The Fed economist who survived the other terrorist attack? Well, well.

  “Sounds good.” Jim replaced the stethoscope in his pocket.

  “I thought Bridges was dead, frankly.”

  “Yeah, I suppose they wouldn’t tell you guys. Bastards. He came here talking about terrorists. The bigwigs scrambled the birds. Then when the DHS woman . . . Lopez?”

  “Rodriguez.”

  “Her. When I learned what she said about the situation and how her bosses reacted, I got the idea.”

  “They let you know all this?” They wouldn’t even let the people involved in the mess know.

  “The people around here know what side their toast’s buttered on.” He finished taping the bandage. “Right now they’re watching a video the terrorists made of today’s cluster. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I’m sure you know.”

  The footage Cheel wanted to use against the West would help exonerate his hostages. “I can only theorize.”

  Jim stripped his gloves off and added them to his trash pile. “Give me your arm. My advice is you scrap any bright ideas about these people helping you. Get gone, friend. The belly of the beast isn’t the best place to be.” After disconnecting the IV, he stood back.

  “Unless you’ve got high explosives,” Nathan muttered, experimentally tensing his left lats. An improvement, but he wouldn’t be bench pressing in the next few hours.

  “Get your game plan straight, then take the next few hours to catch some rest. After, take a page out of Jonah’s book and ride the tide out.”

  “Am I supposed to go to Nineveh afterward?” Nathan gave a wry grin.

  Jim went still, his expression overcast as the smog-smeared San Franciscan sky. “You’re already there, Nathan. There’s no repentance and no mercy this time around, though.”

  The two men fell silent and regarded each other. They shared a silent commiseration over the soul-twisting sights they had witnessed in the last twenty-four hours.

  Then the moment snapped as Nathan coughed and Jim opened the curtains.

  “I’ll get a last X-ray,” the officer related over his shoulder. He disappeared down the hall as Albin and Josephine reentered.

  Albin’s shoulders rolled back in unease as he watched the retreating officer. “Sir, did everything go well?”

  “Textbook. He gave me some friendly advice too: get out of the belly of the beast.” A predatory grin came to Nathan’s lips unbidden.

  “Wise advice,” Albin agreed. “Yet I suspect we will not follow it. Never let a crisis go to waste.” The blond wore the satisfied snow leopard smile.

  “You two are impossible,” Josephine sighed, shaking her head.

  The curtains pulled aside as Jim reappeared. “Here’s your free gift.” He tossed a gray bundle into Nathan’s lap.

  “Let’s get the X-ray before you get too excited about your sexy duds.”

  “Of course.” Nathan held up the T-shirt with ARMY in black across the front.

  The X-ray tech repeated her earlier routine, and Jim evaluated the results. He gave Nathan a thumbs-up over the monitor.

  “Now,” Jim began, his tone sober as he moved to his patient’s bedside, “you’re not going to want to hear this, but thanks to that lung, you’re mostly grounded for the next week, two weeks to be sure. No air travel above eight thousand feet.”

  “What?” Nathan stared.

  “With the pressure above that altitude, there’s a risk the lung will collapse again. Sorry.” The LT winced as he shrugged.

  Nathan’s fists clenched, then unclenched. “Thanks for the warnings.”

  “Sure. In about thirty minutes we’ll give you a last look-over, then you’re out of here.” With a wave, Jim closed the curtains behind him.

  Chapter 101

  Pros and Cons

  All I Have – Matt Kearney

  Nathan eased his arms into the bottom of the shirt and tucked his chin to his chest as Albin grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled the shirt over. “Thank you. Do you have my pants, Albin?” More importantly, their contents.

  “Always.” The sarcastic smirk widened. “Shall I add that to my job description? I’m certain Mrs. Serebus would be interested to hear that.”

  Nathan splinted his chest as he stifled a laugh. “Ahh, you did that on purpose.”

  Albin shrugged, then handed over the VTAC pack.

  Nathan put to good use his winter-morning skills of dressing under a blanket. “They have the video.” Wait, did Albin know about that? “The terrorists were making a video of their little game. Apparently the DHS recovered it and are watching it now. If we keep our replies vague, we can follow their tune. After the hell we’ve been through, some skewing of memories is expect
ed.”

  “We might not even have to fake it,” Josephine put in, her words slick with sarcasm.

  “All the better,” he grunted as he hiked his Blackhawks up the remaining way. “They haven’t debriefed you, Josephine?”

  “They asked me a little, but they’ve been distracted.” She flashed a sly smile. Ever the investigative reporter.

  “Any suggestions from the media about the best talking points?”

  The reporter folded her arms. “You want a pro’s advice? We had nothing to do with the cannibals. We only wanted to get to the Armory. Albin and I acted in self-defense. You”—she pointed to Nathan—“worked with the terrorists because you wanted to rescue the hostages and get the files from the bad guys. Your plan was to hope for help but also to wait for the right moment. When it came, you’d strike.” She smacked her fist into her palm in emphasis.

  As she spoke, Nathan settled back. So she suspected his motives went beyond Doing the Right Thing. How much did she need to know?

  “The data was destroyed with the helicopter as far we know,” she stated. Fixing him with a reporter’s penetrating stare, she added, “It was, wasn’t it?”

  “It was on Cheel. He died with it when the chopper blew.”

  “It’s a shame all those files went up in flames.” Albin met Nathan’s eye for a split second.

  “Mm,” Nathan hummed. “Josephine, I suspect they’ll question you first, since Jim’s keeping me out of the action for a few hours.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m a reporter. I’m the one who asks the questions, remember?” Then she snapped a wink.

  “I leave it to the professional.” Nathan held up his hands. Now that the news story involved her, she held a personal interest in its outcome.

  “It’s afternoon, correct?” He changed the subject as he fished in his pocket for his phone.

  “Fifteen thirty-five, sir.”

  Fastest timepiece in the west. Swiping the device awake—still no data or phone service. The terrorists must have attacked the towers. Alternatively, the amount of network traffic had crashed the system. Or the government shut it down to . . . protect the people, it would claim.