To Light Us, To Guard Us (The Angel War Book 1)

by Sean M O'Connell

  Decrypted Archival File 0035-122

  KC Chris Jiulkenen Deacon: Pacifica Province, WUN

  Entry 1: Extraction Mission failed. Alias Prince and target Babel intact.

  Entry 2: KC confirmed casualties. Clergy and Angels.

  Entry 3: Peni Poloa Angel, confirmed return from mission, current whereabouts unknown, suspected AWOL

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  Nights in Las Vegas were not as enjoyable for Valdez as they once had been.

  Too many loose ends, too much uncertainty. There was some solace in the fact that his masterpiece and home had sustained relatively little damage from the all-out assault launched this morning. A lot of broken glass and bullet holes, but no real structural damage.Contacts at Nellis had alerted him as soon as the mysterious soldiers in black had started to arrive with their gifted civilian counterparts.

  Hunter Valdez paid a good deal of money for that sort of information.

  Of course he was disappointed that his mole couldn’t tell him more about who these other men were.

  Apparently, there was no record or official paperwork. Not even a serial number or marking on the aircraft. Just a “grant all access” decree from the on-site Master Sergeant and a plethora of rumors. Hunter had asked the plant, who was not completely without brains, who he thought these men were, and what their purpose was. During their initial phone call, he’d told Valdez he had no clue. The second time they spoke it was different.

  “They killed some of our regulars today. A fight broke out in the mess between the first load of civilians, the ones with the powers and the wings, and some of our guys. These dudes in black come in and start shooting. Not at the civilians, but at our guys! Then they pulled the bodies up and disappeared again. What kind of soldiers shoot at their own!? That I can’t even begin to tell you Mr. Valdez.”

  Valdez had cursed the man for using his real name, but thanked him for the information. Two days later, the mole-airman had contacted him yet again to inform him that the black-ops force had increased in size and was mobilizing.

  Money well spent.

  Those that Valdez had granted access to his tower and its food, quarters, and decadent amenities were informed of the problem. The majority of them had eagerly joined the fight. Those who hesitated had already been dealt with, their bodies disposed of.

  The remainder of his new “friends” camping out on the courtyard had been organized fairly efficiently. By a man who was of all things a lifelong convict.

  His name was Steven Noall, dark haired, pale, and rail thin, but vicious and smart.

  Noall hadn’t been changed like Valdez and many of the others, but he showed a remarkable amount of fearlessness in dealing with the volatile mix that Hunter had recruited to join his little army. More importantly, the man hadn’t come empty handed, having led an expeditionary caravan to the headquarters of the LVPD and clearing out the armory.

  With law enforcement stretched so thin, Noall’s little raiding party had little trouble subduing the skeleton crew charged with holding down the fort for the Police Department.

  Trucks and Vans stolen from the Las Vegas streets returned to Babel bearing an impressive range of weaponry. Not nearly enough to go around, but much more than Valdez had hoped for. He appreciated the ingenuity of the ex-con, which was about as much as Hunter Valdez could do in terms of liking somebody.

  He’d been somewhat disappointed to hear that Noall hadn’t survived the morning’s attack. Perhaps high on the success of his previous plans and the power he’d been given by Valdez, the man had gotten a bit overzealous and joined the fight personally. Recordings from the external cameras showed him being crushed in the bare hands of a large man with dark skin and wings. One of the so-called Angels. More tapes showed the same man in the hallway only twenty floors below Valdez’s own suite of rooms. He’d encountered the Bruja momentarily, and survived. Something that Valdez was learning was not easy for most people to do. Even for these angel creatures.

  I will have to watch out for that one.

  He looked out over the city from his balcony. The same balcony he’d jumped from weeks ago, trying to end the agony of his transformation. Desperate neon signs on a stubborn few of the larger hotels and casinos still lit the night, but most were darkened. No point in attracting the tourists.

  Vegas balanced on the knife-edge of anarchy. The endless flow of cash stopped for once.

  Of course this irritated Valdez even more. His madam had disappeared, his dealers had vanished, the systems manager he’d hired to overview all of Babel’s facilities had turned out to be one of the Angels, requiring the Bruja to melt his skin off.

  Unacceptable.

  Not the death of course –casualties he could deal with- but the cost to his own comfort.

  There was also the issue of Serena Dayne.

  Finally, Brown’s failure to retrieve her had been confirmed.

  The bodyguard had used a satellite phone somewhere in Salt Lake City to call and inform Valdez of the presence of angels there too. Brown also mentioned black-suited soldiers, which told Valdez that whatever this movement was, it was not unique to Las Vegas or to assaults on Babel.

  The Brazilian was on his way back to Vegas now.

  A courageous move, given his failure.

  Valdez would likely allow him to live, so long as he remained useful.

  Brown had sent him the Witch, and she was proving her worth more and more every day.

  Repairs were already underway to correct the damage done by the attacking helicopters. Valdez couldn’t help but feel insulted.

  He pondered ordering an attack on the Air Force base -where the raid had originated- but thought it might be unwise. First he would find out who these men in black were.

  More than fifty of them lay far below him on the courtyard, burnt or bled out and drying in the desert air. Soon enough he would know everything there was to know. All information was for sale, for the right price. Even now, when cash was meaningless, Hunter Valdez was wealthy enough to trade in any currency. Food, medicine, even firearms thanks to the planning of the now-deceased Noall. He would find his answers.

  I always do.

  The smile that crawled onto his face looked like a fat grub in the darkness.

  Decrypted Archival file 0231-779

  SK Gabriel Jesias Deacon, Cristo Province. Brazil

  (Translated-Portgs. to Eng.)

  Entry 1: Appearance of Angels and Fallen Angels cause of rioting and hysteria around city.

  Entry 2: Request for assistance from SK North American Provincialate. Reinforcements, weaponry, medical supplies, and rations. {Request denied.}

  Entry 3: Clergy casualties. Three Monks KIA. No Angels or Fallen involved. SK Brando Cavalcante Monk, SK Honoratus Blanc Monk, SK Anderson Sobrega Monk. Confirmed. May they Rest in Peace

  Entry 4: Last Monk, (SK Gabriel Jesias Deacon) of Cristo Province. Mortally wounded requesting immediate assistance from any available Province for Angels and civilians gathered at Cristo Redentor Monument.

  {Final Transmission: SK Gabriel Jesias Deacon confirmed deceased. Reinforcement request for Cristo Redentor: granted by SK Martin Mazzone Cardinal. Reg Code Swan88}

  TO GUARD US:

  “This is growing tiresome.” Hunter Valdez scolded.

  He pulled his fingers through his hair as he spoke, relishing the residual heat from his own fingertips.

  “And yet you summon me twice a day?” The Bruja laughed back.

  They both stood by the window in one of Babel’s highest rooms. A black suite with fiber optic stars in the ceiling and a stone bed with no mattress. The designers had named it the Druid room for the rune carvings and spiral stone furniture.

  Valdez stuffed a chunk of fried plantain from the ever-present buffet into his mouth and spoke around it without meeting her eyes.

  “We all have needs witch. Besides, if I call twice you only show up once. I have killed people for less.” With a free hand, he adjusted the towel wrapped aro
und his naked frame.

  She shrugged nonchalantly, and her childlike voice chimed with sarcasm.

  “Well I have a lot of work to do. My boss is very demanding.”

  It was Valdez’s turn to laugh.

  “Your ‘work’ is done entirely of your own accord. Every order I have ever given you has been ignored in favor of your own methods.” He tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

  “True. So you should be flattered that I show up for this even once a day.”

  What she spoke of had been a routine occurrence for some time now. Valdez’ sexual appetite had not waned since his transformation, but the body count accumulating as a result of his conquests since then had become unappealing. Even to him.

  Despite the Bruja’s daily lessons on the control his newfound powers, the young girls brought to his bed invariably failed to survive his excitement.

  Brown, his surly bodyguard, had begun to resent the daily task of transporting bodies to the dessert. Valdez considered it a suitable punishment for previous failures, but he was not an unreasonable man. Brown’s accumulated service was still on the acceptable level, although since failing to retrieve Serena he had been relegated to a somewhat lesser role on the Babel staff. Namely, cleaning up the mess of Valdez’s liaisons.

  Eventually, Valdez had complained of the problem to the Bruja.

  She presented a solution, in the form of herself.

  At first Valdez had been repulsed by the idea, mostly because of the way she smelled. Of course he was also suspicious. The witch had become an asset to him, but he would never trust her.

  She had explained.

  “Your sexual energy is a negative energy. Bad juju. The same type of energy that all of my efforts here require.” She had laughed at him, again. “Sex with you is the same thing as sacrificing a dog or a chicken for some power.” Her matter-of-fact tone had made it hard to tell whether the statement was an insult or not, but Valdez found the explanation satisfactory at least.

  She slid off of the stone bed, damp with their combined perspiration. The scars and tattoos on her ravaged skin played the light in weird angles. The Bruja didn’t bother to hide her nakedness, absently scratching at the blistered skin on her hips and breasts where his hands had been. They stood there for minutes, grazing over the table, not speaking. Detached.

  Eventually, Valdez grew irritated.

  “We’re finished here. Why don’t you go check on your pet?”

  He still didn’t fully understand her obsession with the Hawaiian. Although even he himself was beginning to admire the captive’s resilience. If only he could abandon the angelic virtue and make himself useful.

  “I just finished with him before I came to see you actually.” she said as she pulled a too-large shirt on over her head. “you know? Foreplay..”

  The jibe had no effect on Valdez, who barely listened.

  “You really should come watch sometime. It might be good for your sense of control.”

  Valdez’ exercises with the Bruja had so far yielded solid results.

  His power was unmatched, even by her.

  He was strong, like the Angels, and fast. When angry, he could melt casino chips and coins in his bare hands like butter. His wings could carry him faster than any of his Flyers, and of those who had tried to resist his rage and punishment, not a single one had been able to so much as scratch him. Even his ability to mend his own injuries was almost on par with that of the Angels .

  Still, he failed to impress himself because he could not control any of it properly.

  Loss of control was one of Hunter Valdez’s least favorite things.

  The Bruja never failed to remind him of that.

  She prodded.

  “You can outfight and out-fly all of us easily, and you haven’t lost a mental step like most of your new ‘staff’. And you can burn.” She bit her lip at the thought of it. “But you aren’t really in touch with where your abilities are coming from.”

  Her girlish voice was incongruous with the lecture, but she continued. A different tone crept into her voice. Admiration? Jealousy?

  “You were given the most power because you are the most suited for it. Maybe no man in history has ever been more greedy, self-serving, or deceitful than you. Yet the public loved you before the changes. They still do.” she tossed her hair and laughed. “Not because of who you are, because of who they think you are. Your good looks and your charm have helped to build your appeal, but it’s your wealth that makes you untouchable.

  Hunter Valdez tuned in again fully, attentive at least to praise.

  “In truth, you are a violent criminal, a murderer, a rapist. Your fortune was built on the ruin and addiction of other people. Yet you are still the prom king. Everyone’s favorite billionaire. The whole world knew Hitler was evil, and Hussein, and Cortez in Argentina. But you are the worst of them all. Your evil somehow made you rich. Made you famous. It’s really quite remarkable.”

  Hunter Valdez was a bit shocked at receiving what served for compliments from this woman, who customarily mocked and derided him despite his superiority.

  “That is why you were chosen. The power of the ancients, the power of Hell, it’s in you now just like it always was. Only now you can use it. You can touch it and see it and smell it burning.” inspired tears glistened in her eyes. “I can turn your shoes into snakes and start fires with my own spit. But you, Hunter, you are a demigod. If you can learn to focus your energy, you’ll be able to set this whole damned world on fire.”

  Her voice quavered with a hungry passion that he had never seen before.

  “This is as animated as I’ve ever seen you Bruja. What is it you really want?”

  She hesitated for a brief moment before answering him.

  “I told you from the start, I want the blonde Angel. The one who bested me in Utah.” A different type of passion loaded this statement. Bitter and cold.

  “And I told you, you can have her, but only after Babel is secure.”

  Of course he never intended to honor the promise of delivering Serena. Now her insistence was really becoming a problem. She was forever pressing.

  “Babel is as secure as it is going to be until you learn to harness your gifts and end the nonsense with these black-suited boy scouts once and for all!” she complained. “We outnumber the Angels here at least ten to one, but they have their all-American boys to cover them and create complications.”

  “Hence my need to keep you here. Unfortunately you are the only one around who can teach me. Don’t forget, you came to my doorstep. Because you knew that without me you didn’t have the resources to find Serena and her friends, and you certainly can’t get close enough by yourself. You need me as much as I need you.” Valdez pointedly ignored the way she scoffed “as soon as you hold up your end of the bargain, you may claim your prize as promised. I have enough manpower on the books to scour the whole damned country for her.”

  The Bruja smiled her disturbing smile and giggled back at him.

  “But we don’t need to scour the country. I’ve already found her.”

  Valdez clenched at the news. Serena’s escape had irked him. Brown’s failure to retrieve her, even more so. His contacts and well-paid spies had narrowed down Serena’s whereabouts to somewhere in Utah still, but her movement appeared sporadic, and her connection with the para-military that now governed cities and states was unclear.

  “Oh?” He didn’t even bother to feign nonchalance, the witch would see through it. “Where is she then?”

  “Still in Salt Lake City. She’s fallen in with her ex-husband and the “sleepy knights” or whatever they call themselves.”

  “And you learned this where?”

  She explained to him, in detail, the method she had used for extracting this and a glut of other information from a prisoner one of their raiding parties had taken in Reno. He was one of them. The Sleepless Knights.

  Dangling the man’s own testicles in front of his face and threatening t
o lop off even more important bits, she had milked details about the hierarchy of the organization, the link to the government, even the real names of his man’s subordinates.

  The names didn’t matter she told Hunter, it was the breaking of trust and the shame it would cause this officer that were important.

  “The one downstairs is what they call a Bishop. Middle management. He served in Salt Lake City until they got the riots under control and then headed to Reno where things were still going in our favor.”

  Hunter Valdez waved a hand dismissively in the air.

  “At least your interrogation methods work well on those unchanged.” a backhanded compliment.

  She giggled again, her disturbing features crinkling with mock innocence. When she spoke, she feigned regret.

  “Pity they never survive long.”

  He shared her laughter this time. The pathetic soldiers and their civilian helpers shattered so easily under the Bruja’s torture. Even Brown’s less-creative practices were enough.

  It was the one thing that Valdez felt separated the changed most from those who remained only human. Fear.

  Humans still feared pain, death, darkness.

  The Possessed were immune to such pettiness. And the bastard Angels it appeared, were immune to just about everything.

  “Our Agreement remains the same, witch. You can go fetch your prize once you’ve taught me what I need to learn.” Valdez said. “Now let’s go visit your pet Angel one more time.”

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  No light.

  No fresh air.

  No ocean or green trees and ferns.

  For the thousandth time, Peni shook his head at his own stupidity.

  The subtlety he had aimed for in returning to Babel alone had been a mistake. A prideful and incredibly costly mistake.

  Gaining entrance to the tower had been easier than he’d thought.