Armageddon's Son (HYBRID: The Ethereal War Book 1)

by Greg Ballan

  He nodded toward the front desk girl and spent a few minutes conversing with the health club's regular members. He spent another few minutes rearranging dumbbells and working small issues with the floor staff. Neal Dawkens' style of management was much more aloof and his marketing was archaic at best. Neal hired Erik to give the gym a facelift and manage the MMA program but more importantly to make the facility a profitable enterprise. The newer 'Box Gyms' were pushing Dawkens' Gym closer and closer to insolvency with every passing month. Erik shook a few more hands and dispensed with some specialized advice to patrons before he entered the facility's martial arts section.

  The sounds of punches striking canvas and the kiaia shouts from a kids' martial arts class made him feel at home. The instructor teaching the class paused and bowed to him. Erik stopped and returned the gesture of respect before entering the narrow hallway leading to his office. He briefly remembered the first time he'd seen this space. Neal Dawkens had been sitting at the head of a large desk surrounded by trophies and photographs informing him of the Lisa Reynolds abduction. Now he sat behind the desk and photographs of Shanda, EJ, Brianna and a few close friends decorated those walls. He didn't feel the need to hang his certifications but rather had photographs of students achieving new ranks or trophies. In his mind the success of his students was a better reflection of the facility he was trying to create and the impression he wanted to leave with potential students.

  "I thought you were taking the day off. You're allowed at least one day to relax, Erik."

  Erik leaned himself into his chair, picking up some enrollment papers and studying them. He smiled at the lean woman peeking onto his office. "I need to get some paperwork taken care of for the bank and I'm having a guest stop by—" he glanced at the clock "—in about fifteen minutes or so. You remember Martin Denton?"

  Alissa tilted her head in confusion. "I didn't think after the Eunice Kim news story and your pseudo firing the two of you would be on speaking terms."

  Erik laughed. "The media made more out of it than they actually had. I gave Eunice just enough to bury Richard Pendelton—no more, no less. Martin and the feds are pissed because they had plans for Richard and they wanted the whole mess covered up and buried. I upset their apple cart a bit, but not enough to cause any real damage. I'd never do that and Martin and his superiors know it." Erik rolled his eyes. "Well at least I hope they do. The fact that we haven't been audited by the IRS means we're pretty much off the government's watch list." Erik steepled his hands. "I am being punished though, that much is certain."

  "Let's hope your punishment isn't severe or prolonged. You did the right thing for the right reasons. On a happier note, six of the ten kids you talked with last week have signed up for lessons. Two prepaid for six months. The checks are in your top desk drawer. I didn't think it would be possible, Erik, but you're turning this place around bit by bit." Alissa walked in and sat in the chair facing his desk. "Did Mr. Denton give you any idea of why he wants to see you? Do you think he's going to pull you back into the CIA?"

  The ex-CIA cooler shook his head no. "I think I burned that bridge. But he does have a multiple homicide case he wants to discuss, so I assume I'll be doing something along the line of heavier investigative work. It's been several months since the firm has thrown any lucrative work my way and I have bills to pay as well. Shanda's store is struggling in this economy. What I pull down here gets us by, barely. The small cases from the firm allow us to breathe a little easier and let us put some more funds away for Erik Junior. Plus I told Margaret I'd foot part of Brianna's tuition." Erik sighed. "Money is tight without the larger cases I had before Eunice's story dropped."

  The young woman shook her head. "Margaret is swimming in Richard's wealth. I heard her telling you not to worry about that in this very office. Your actions against Richard and Pendelcorp made your ex-wife a very wealthy woman." She leaned forward looking at him intently. "Don't obsess over this Erik. You're building something special here. I feel it. In a few more months this place will be a huge success."

  Erik leaned forward his face a scowl. "Thanks, Alissa. Sometimes I think I let my desire to bury that bastard overrule my better judgment. Shanda would never say anything to me, but I get the feeling she wishes I towed the company line. We'd certainly be better off financially."

  "Come on Erik, you know that's not true. That's your own self-doubt talking. You did what you felt needed to be done—the right thing, in my opinion. I know your wife well enough to know if she thought you were wrong she'd certainly let you know. Shanda isn't one to shy away like a wall flower and keep some kind of resentment buried. If she thought what you did was wrong, she would have been the first one to tell you."

  The ex-CIA operative and detective now turned gym manager leaned his head on his hands as his elbows rested on the top of his desk. He contemplated Alissa's remark. "You're right of course. I'll admit I didn't expect the firm to respond like this … I figured I'd get a hand slap and things would go back to normal. Don't get me wrong, I like being home every night and I like the peace. This is a far cry from battling alien monsters or Observer combat platforms." Erik looked up at his friend, studying her.

  "What?" She looked away blushing.

  "Sorry. Let's change the subject from my self-pity party for a minute. Have you sensed any kind of disturbance lately, any subtle shift or hint of some cataclysm looming on the horizon?"

  She stared at the floor growing uncomfortable. Her body language became closed and defensive. Lean arms folded across her chest.

  "I'll take that as a 'Yes'." Erik leaned back in his chair. "A few days ago I got a sense that something changed. Something big happened but I can't lock it down. I was hoping the feeling would fade but it's getting stronger. My gut tells me Martin's visit is going to pull me into the heart of it."

  Alissa unfolded her arms. "I sense darkness, Erik—a kind of darkness that makes the Seelak warrior feel like a warm puppy."

  Erik's mind flashed back to the dark hate-driven creature that haunted the Hopedale Town Forest several years ago, the creature that forced him to embrace his Esper genetics and transform into an Esper/Human hybrid soldier. "May I ask why you didn't mention this to me when you got these impressions?"

  Alissa tilted her head. "I could ask that same question of you, Mr. Knight."

  Erik winced. "Touché."

  The phone rang interrupting their morose discussion. "Dawkens' Fitness, this is Erik Knight speaking, how can I meet your fitness needs today?" Erik recited his standard greeting. He looked over at Alissa. "Thanks Mike. Tell Mr. Denton I'll have Alissa walk him back to my office." Erik looked at his assistant. "Would you please escort our esteemed guest?"

  Alissa stood up. "Can do, but let's finish this conversation later. If something that dark is on the horizon let's circle our wagons and prepare a defense—or at least an exit strategy."

  Erik nodded. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that and we're both misreading the disturbance in 'The Force'." Erik tossed out the Star Wars analogy since it was the closest thing he could come to describe the anomaly they'd both detected in the psychic fabric surrounding them. Something inside him—his Esper sense—warned him of danger. Alissa's doom-filled revelation did little to ease the sense of foreboding.

  Erik heard Martin engaging Alissa in small talk as she led him down the narrow hallway to his office.

  "Right through that door, Mr. Denton, Erik's waiting for you."

  "Thank you, my dear," Denton replied lightly. "You're still as beautiful as a spring day."

  Alissa laughed as she headed back up the hallway.

  Martin Denton quietly stepped into the office. Erik could read the uncertainty radiating off the old man's body. He sensed deep sorrow from his old friend and colleague. Erik stood, walked around the desk and extended his hand toward the old man. Denton's grip was soft and weak, not the sure grasp he'd known from his friend from years earlier.

  "Have a seat, Counselor. I'd offer you a cup of coffee or some
hot food but as you can plainly see, my circumstances have changed greatly over the last three years. I can get you a bottle of water or a bottle of juice." Erik continued to study his former boss. He'd aged the last few years as if some great pressure weighed the man down, leeching away his vitality.

  Denton's foot tapped an unsteady rhythm on the tiled floor. Tired hands shook to the point he placed them under his thighs.

  Erik never had the opportunity to speak to Martin. Three anonymous feds in black suits and sunglasses had dismissed him from the agency. He was told not to have any contact with Denton or the law firm and that the firm would contact him as needed on small client cases. They'd only spoken once since his dismissal as an agent and it was only briefly regarding a case file he still possessed.

  Alissa knocked on the door and entered. The young woman had two cups of Honey Dew coffee and some assorted muffins. "I had one of our staff make a coffee run earlier."

  Erik looked toward his assistant and smiled. She magically knew how to break the tension and ease both men through the awkward moments of this first reunion.

  Denton took a coffee cup and smiled graciously. "Thank you, my dear, this is perfect."

  Erik took the other cup and Alissa placed the tray on his desk. "Will that be all Mr. Knight?" She used the same tone when he ran his agency back at Madame's.

  Erik smiled. "This is perfect, as always. I'd be lost without you."

  Alissa nodded, closing the door behind her.

  "It's nice that some things haven't changed." Denton sipped his coffee. "I was devastated when you told me Madame's was gone and Jeff passed away. Wasn't there anyone willing to step forward and keep the business going?"

  "Jeff's brother wanted nothing to do with the business after he passed. The offer he got to sell was extremely generous. I understand why he sold out. Running a restaurant is grueling work. You either love it or you don't. Jeff loved it; his brother, not so much. I had to scramble and my agency suffered while I found a new base of operation." Erik gestured around his office. "It's not exactly what I had before, but it's home, so to speak."

  "I liked that place, and your little back office was very comfortable. Sadly we can't always control what happens around us." Denton pointed his finger towards the gym area. "But, this is a nice place and you seem to be making a go of it."

  Erik nodded. "It was tough leaving Madame's after so many years but this is starting to come together."

  Martin's facial expression softened. The old man put his coffee down and leaned forward. "I'm sorry about what happened, Erik. I really am. I understand why you gave Eunice that material. Unfortunately the internal politics of that action reverberated all the way up to the executive office. Many more people on both sides of the aisle had their hands in that corrupt cookie jar than we'd anticipated. The CIA had plans to use Richard Pendelton and Pendelcorp. Your little bombshell shook up too many people and it was decided that you needed to be put on ice. Normally someone who commits such an act would fall off the face of the Earth." Denton took another sip of his coffee. "After the feats you performed fighting the Observers nobody in their right mind was going to come after you and risk obliteration."

  Erik shook his head, "I didn't have much of a choice, Counselor. This shadow government abducted my wife and wanted to use my son as a lab rat in a cloning project. Not to mention that maniacal idiot, Ross, was picking a fight with an alien race bringing our species to the very brink of oblivion. Maybe the executive office should have given those facts some consideration before judging me and my actions. The President even convinced me to help root out much of the shadow government pulling Ross' strings. As I'm exposing these players, the administration went in and simply replaced the crooks with their own crooks. There were no trials. As far as I know, the shadow government still exists; only now it's being run by the executive branch of our government!"

  Denton sighed. "Agreed, the corruption runs deep, Erik. I can't deny that. But there are more players involved, things going on that I don't understand. I dug for answers after you were let go but was stonewalled and reprimanded for my efforts. It seems I've been reduced to the political equivalent of a 'Water Boy.' I was politely told to mind my own business and if I continued to look into certain things my body would be found on a park bench in Boston Commons. So for the past two years that's exactly what I've been doing, minding my own business marking off the days until I can retire."

  Erik cringed, there was more going on than either of them had deduced. The corruption they'd worked so hard to expose and bring to justice was barely a scratch on the surface.

  Denton continued. "I didn't want to see you fired, Erik. I promise you I did everything I could to prevent that from happening. Originally the firm was instructed not to give you any case work and put a quarantine on you and your family. The powers that be are still afraid of you and don't want you getting involved in intelligence work of any kind. Believe it or not, they don't think you can be trusted. I told them a level three quarantine would impact you financially and potentially ruin you. I told them you'd come after them and bury anyone involved. They settled for a level five instead; just giving you the bare minimum in case work and making sure no one approached you with any outside clients. I also know they used the push/pull tactic on Neal Dawkens to convince him to give you this job."

  Erik leaned forward. "Push/pull?"

  "Yeah, they pushed the idea to him and pulled him along with a sizable sum of money in the form of a buyout. I hate to tell you this, Erik, but the firm owns Dawkens' Gym. You've been an employee of the firm all along only you didn't know it."

  Erik fell against his seatback stunned by Denton's revelation. "Sonovabitch!!" Erik slammed his fist against the desk, the heavy wood surface creaked under the powerful impact spilling some of his coffee. He removed the papers and checks then toweled up the spill. He looked up at his old friend. "So this whole thing is a farce?"

  "No, not really. Dawkens ran the place into the ground. The firm figured with your background you'd get immersed in rebuilding the business and would cease being a threat to anyone save some overweight person looking to shed a few pounds. They figured it'd take you five years to turn things around but you've proven them all wrong. You've done amazing things here, Erik. The business plan you wrote for the bank was impressive, they didn't need us to cosign your loan, but we did anyway just to make sure you got the fifty thousand seed capital you needed with none of those pesky strings or floating interest rates banks love to attach to business loans."

  Erik rubbed his hand through his hair, clearly angered over Martin's admission. "None of it was real. This whole thing was a setup from day one."

  "No Erik, you didn't have to take this job at all. You had the chance to opt out. The firm was genuinely glad you took the opportunity to step in once they bought this place … Imagine if you passed and they'd have to find some poor schmuck to unload a failing enterprise. Your sweat equity's paid off and this place seems to be climbing out of the sewer Mr. Dawkens dug for it."

  "Oh boy, I saved the firm from a bad investment." Erik looked at Denton with suspicion. "Why are you telling me all of this now, Martin? You're sticking your neck out."

  "I put my 'Sixty Day' papers in yesterday, Erik. I'm done. Something happened a few days ago that gave me a reality check and I'm hoping you can help me work a murder case—multiple homicides, as I said on the phone earlier. I'm really not so concerned with all this secrecy and layers upon layers of intrigue anymore."

  Erik tossed the coffee-soaked towels in the trash, then wiped his hands. He offered his friend a muffin before helping himself to one. "It's not exactly fresh baked from the kitchen of Madame's, but they're not too bad." He looked toward his old friend. "Okay Martin, let's get to the point, what the hell is going on? Give me the whole story."

  Martin took a bite of his muffin, sipped his coffee and began his tale.

  "I got the call three days ago from Rome, a triple homicide in Vatican City. Three clergy were sl
aughtered in a chamber under St. Martha's Chapel."

  Erik stood up shaking his head vehemently, "Not interested, Martin. I'll take a pass on this one."

  Denton's jaw dropped. "What? You didn't even hear me out."

  "I know. I heard enough, though. I'm not interested in doing any work for the Catholic Church." Erik's tone was icy and final.

  "But…."

  "There are no buts, Counselor."

  "Then how about a reason. Can you at least give me that, Agent Knight?" Denton snapped, his own tone icy and confrontational.

  Erik's hands balled into fists and his eyes began to burn a fiery ice blue like two young stars burning bright with anger and rage. "When I was seven, I was placed in a foster home with two very Catholic parents. They were nice enough people. My foster brother and I went to church every Sunday, Sunday school afterwards and the whole religious nine yards. My foster mother decided that her son would be a wonderful altar boy and approached Father Lucas hoping Timmy would be accepted. Well she was overjoyed when, despite Timmy being so young, Father Lucas would make him a junior altar boy but he'd need some special training and classes at the rectory."

  Denton groaned, the grip on his coffee cup increasing.

  "I remember waking up one night around two in the morning after four of Father Lucas' classes. Timmy was up late packing. I asked where he was going and he told me he was running away so he didn't have to be an altar boy any more. I didn't understand what was going on but he told me that Father Lucas was touching him, and forcing my brother to do things. I remember the look of agony and horror on my brother's face and the tears as he told me what went on during those tutoring sessions. My brother told me the priest said his soul would burn in Hell if he ever said anything to anyone. I'd only been with Timmy for about ten months but he accepted me as his little brother and I thanked God for giving me a big brother. Timmy didn't care about Hell anymore. He just couldn't take going back there and we both knew our parents would never believe him.