The Scrolls of Velia

by John McWilliams

  Back in Isabella’s living room, my father, Adam, and Jason had agreed that, given the anti-ram barriers, acoustic and infrared sensors, the guard towers, and the fact that the Raven’s Nest’s main building was made of ballistic resistant metal and glass—all information provided by the Apollonians’ years of detective work—our plan of coming in from the air was the most viable approach. Of course, my father had insisted that Adam and Jason be a part of that aerial assault team.

  There was continued debate between Antonio and Gabriel about the latter’s participation in the aerial assault. The two battled it out for a good hour before Gabriel won out—based on Apollonian honor. In the final plan, both men would have important roles to play; Antonio would just play his a little closer to the ground.

  As for Mary, once she conceded that she was the least qualified to deal with the fighting after we had landed on the roof, I conceded that, in addition to the impressive account she had given of herself back in Naples, she and I were the most likely to even land on the roof. And that was an important consideration: landing on a darkened rooftop on a moonless night would be no easy task. Gabriel only gave himself a fifty-fifty chance; Adam and Jason, a bit more sanguine, gave themselves eighty to ninety percent (but I think they were just anxious to get into the fight).

  So: Mary would be a part of the aerial assault team too.

  There were four guards on the roof, and there would be five of us in the air—one extra man on our side. It was agreed that Mary would jump last and come to the aid of anyone who needed it. She was our backup. Hopefully, by the time she touched down, the enemy would be eliminated.

  The jump would begin at eight thousand feet, a good mile out over the Tyrrhenian Sea, where, once leaving the helicopter, we would deploy quickly—an HAHO (high altitude, high opening jump)—and glide several miles inland to just south of the Raven facility. At that point, we would turn into the wind and approach the site from the east.

  That’s when things would get tricky. We each had a primary and a secondary guard assigned to us, but approaching the right part of the roof and then shooting a guard within seconds after landing in complete darkness would be difficult—and would have been outright impossible if the Apollonians hadn’t had night vision goggles in their impressive stash of weaponry.

  Also improving our odds: At the same time we were to be dropping in from overhead, my father and Antonio, claiming to be U.S. representatives demanding the immediate release of Dr. Fortier, would be creating a distraction at the west gate. Meanwhile, Isabella and hundreds of Apollonian protestors would be creating a distraction at the south gate.

  We had a plan. It was risky, and any number of things could easily go wrong, but it was a plan.

  From our hilltop position at the Apollonians’ surveillance site, the Raven’s Nest really did look like a military base. It had twenty-foot-tall barbed wire fences, watchtowers, armed guards on patrol, and, at the center of it all, like a giant fallen tombstone, the Raven’s all-black building.

  “Well, they sure have a consistent color scheme,” my father said, looking through his binoculars. “And they sure are on high alert.”

  “Sir?” Adam approached us, walkie-talkie in hand. “A little scratchy, but not too bad.”

  Adam and Jason had been testing our radios. Jason, at the beach, was using the headsets we’d be using on our jump.

  “I’m sure we’ll hear you fine once you’re in the air.” My father turned to me. “But let’s keep the chatter to a minimum, huh? Give us a heads-up once you’re out the door, and then again three minutes before touchdown. Antonio and I will give Isabella the go-ahead to step up the protest, and we’ll be at the gate about a minute after that.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  Adam showed us his watch. “We’d better get going.”

  We climbed into the Land Rover and drove down to the beach, where we found Mary and Jason already suited up. They were standing in front of the open tailgate of a pickup truck Antonio had borrowed.

  “Our pilot just radioed in,” Jason informed us. “He’s twenty miles out.”

  In the Land Rover’s headlights, fifty feet from the breaking waves, we put on our fatigues and loaded up with handguns, extra clips, grenades, knives, and an assortment of other lethal and non-lethal fighting gear. The Apollonians had just about everything we could have wished for, including Kevlar vests and the all-important night vision goggles. We put on our parachutes and tested our radios.

  When we heard the distant grumble of the helicopter, we positioned the Land Rover and the pickup so their headlights, along with two flashlights, formed the corners of a square—our makeshift landing pad. Then we watched the helicopter’s green and red flashing lights descend over the ocean.

  As its landing light turned toward shore, my father pulled me into a hug. “Henry, be careful up there. And watch out for these poor mortals.”

  “Are you becoming an Apollonian?” I asked.

  “I didn’t need them to tell me you were descended from a god.” He slapped me enthusiastically on the back. “And Mary,” he added over the roar of the approaching helicopter, “you watch out for my boy, would you?”

  “I’ll keep him out of trouble.” Mary gave him a thumbs-up.

  My father laughed delightedly at this and hugged her.

  He embraced Adam and Jason, and even walked over to where Antonio and Gabriel were saying goodbye and hugged both of them too.

  The Agusta 109’s wheels set down on the sandy pavement, and the five of us climbed aboard. Mary, who would be the last one out, squeezed in first, while I, the last one in, sat with my feet out the door. Seconds later, crests of waves became blurs under my boots as we accelerated out to sea.

  We climbed to six thousand feet, heading south before banking steeply and coming around one hundred and eighty degrees to the north, still climbing. At eight thousand feet and a mile offshore, we cruised for about five minutes before Gene Cassano, our pilot, gave us the thumbs-up.

  One by one, we jumped.

  Immediately deploying our parachutes, we began gliding toward shore.

  “On our way,” I radioed my father, looking down at the pitch black sea.

  “Affirmative,” came his reply.

  As we approached the shoreline, I could see the Raven facility, a bright square to the northwest. Directly in front of me, coastal houses and streetlights moved ever closer, and behind me, our staggered formation of wraithlike shadows skirted the stars.

  I thought of Poe:

  … art sure no craven,

  Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

  Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!

  Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

  Having sailed past the Ravens’ archeological site a mile to the south, we reached our western marker still a bit high. But better to have to bleed off a little altitude than to come up short. I initiated our turn to the north.

  Everyone remained in formation, meaning they were all good to go. If they had had any problems, they were to keep flying west, or turn south—anywhere but where we were going. I saw that Mary, as planned, had started to hang back.

  “Three minutes out,” I radioed my father.

  “Affirmative.”

  Gabriel, Adam, and Jason tightened our formation. Once the gunfire started, we would need to have everyone’s boots on the roof. It’s pretty hard to win a shootout with your hands on your toggles.

  A minute out—and that much closer to the ground—I could really sense our forward speed. For a moment, as we approached a mountain, we lost sight of our target. But as we crossed over the peak, the Raven facility came into sharp relief, big and bright.

  We cleared the site’s perimeter fence line at about three hundred feet, and I lined up for a touchdown at the far end of the long rectangular building, allowing room for the others to land behind me. I flipped down my night vision goggles and, in greenish-gray hues, could now see the roof v
ents, the HVAC units, and a satellite antenna. All the things I needed to avoid. In that same moment, however, I saw that there were six guards—not four. Two were in the dead center of the roof, standing atop a six-foot-high HVAC unit, facing the west gate, where, presumably, my father and Antonio were causing a ruckus.

  I maintained my speed and heading and, zeroing in on my prey, drove my boots into the back of the two men on top of the HVAC unit. They went sailing. I landed hard fifty feet farther down the gravel-covered rooftop, cut away my chute, turned, and fired. Neither man ever made it back to his feet.

  Somewhere near the center of the building, shots rang out. I holstered my pistol and looked through my M16’s night vision scope. I aligned my crosshairs on a Raven who was drawing a bead on Adam, just waiting for his parachute to stop billowing.

  I fired. The man went down.

  When Adam’s parachute collapsed, I could see he was in a crouched position, targeting a Raven on the other side of the roof. He took the man out with three shots to the chest.

  I ran over to join him, the two of us taking cover behind an HVAC unit.

  “That’s four down,” I said. “But there were six.”

  “I saw that too.”

  We made our way stealthily toward what we thought was Jason’s parachute but turned out to be Gabriel’s. His leg was broken. Adam covered me as I carried Gabriel out of harm’s way.

  “Jason went over the side,” Gabriel told us. “He missed the roof completely.”

  “He’s never going to live that one down,” Adam said grimly.

  “What about Mary?” I asked, scanning the rooftop.

  “I didn’t see her.” Gabriel winced, adjusting his leg. “We did tell her to land outside the fence if things went to hell.”

  I frowned and looked into the distance. “When has Mary ever listened to anyone?”

  “She could have just missed,” Adam said.

  “Maybe.” I looked around one more time. “All right.” I turned and faced Adam. “I’m going out. Shoot anyone who tries to shoot me.”

  “Yes, sir.” He waved it off. “Sorry. Habit.”

  We didn’t have a lot of time, and Adam and I both knew it. If we didn’t take these guards out immediately, reinforcements would arrive and we’d never get off the roof.

  I stepped into the open, looking in all directions through my scope. A second later, I heard and felt four shots hit the back of my flak jacket.

  I turned just in time to see my assailant, some twenty feet away, go flying through the air as Mary, swooping out of the night sky, kicked him in the back.

  Now she was barreling right for me.

  I caught her, and the two of us skidded across the roof. I dug my heels into the tar and gravel, but we were heading quickly toward the edge.

  At the very last second, Mary cut away her parachute and we collapsed together, just inches from the roof’s edge. I watched her parachute fall away from the building like a discarded plastic bag.

  Mary leapt to her feet, rifle at the ready, pointing it in every direction. “Come on, let’s go.”

  I stared at her. “How in the—”

  “Where in the world did you come from?” Adam exclaimed, rushing over.

  “I got caught in some kind of updraft,” Mary said, using her free hand to augment the story. “I went way, way over the roof and had to turn around. It was crazy. But then I saw a chance to do what Henry did when he landed. And bam, here I am to save the day.”

  Adam and I looked at each other. He shook his head in disbelief.

  “What’s our status?” I asked Adam.

  “All six down,” he said.

  “And that one was mine.” Mary pointed at the man she had kicked—and whom Adam had subsequently shot.

  “You do know that guy shot me four times before you kicked him, right?”

  “Yeah. But maybe the next one would have been to your head,” she said.

  I glanced at Adam. He shrugged.

  “All right…” I said grudgingly. “Thanks.”

  We returned to where Gabriel was propped up against one of the HVAC units.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said. “You guys just keep going.”

  “He’s right,” Adam said. “The best thing we can do for him is to keep moving.”

  “But how’s he going to defend himself?” Mary asked.

  “I’ll just shoot any Raven who comes through that door.” Gabriel pointed at the cement-walled roof entrance.

  “More than likely,” Adam told him, “if any Raven comes through that door, then we probably didn’t make it. You might want to consider surrendering.”

  “I’d sooner die in this very spot.”

  “Suit yourself,” Adam said.

  “We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Mary assured Gabriel.

  We headed for the stairwell, shooting two Ravens at the door, and two more just inside. Before we entered, I ran over to the front edge of the building and peered down. Below, a pair of guards were escorting my father and Antonio into the building.

  “Careful who you shoot at,” I warned Adam and Mary.

  • • •

  Strangely, the stairwell provided no access to the second or the third floor. When we opened the door onto the first floor, we found out why.

  Before us, in a hangar-sized, brightly lit room, stood the Temple of Apollo, its columns rising up to the full height of the building. It was as if the Raven Entelechy building had been placed over top of it.

  “A replica?” I asked.

  “I guess…” Mary approached one of the pillars.

  This temple looked just like the one at Paestum, except this one had walls inside its columns. Mary and I stepped between two of the columns and touched the smooth concrete wall.

  “How do we get in?” Mary asked.

  “I found a door,” Adam called out. “Henry, I could use a little help.”

  The thick metal door was a half inch ajar, but something seriously heavy was blocking it. I told Adam to step back, and like a lineman into a tackle sled, I drove my shoulder into it, forcing the door open enough for us to get through.

  Inside, we found what had been blocking the door: a two-by-three-by-three-foot marble block.

  “Holy shit, Henry,” Adam said. “You’re a human bulldozer.” He looked at Mary. “Can you imagine what that thing weighs?”

  Mary shrugged.

  “They must have blocked the door after the Ravens we met on the stairs went through,” I said.

  “Yeah, with a forklift.” Adam kicked the marble block.

  The dimly lit room we had just entered was occupied by racks of black robes, a few chairs, and several full-length mirrors. I examined one of the robes. It had the Raven Entelechy logo on it.

  “A changing room?” Mary asked.

  “That’d be my guess,” I said.

  We made our way through that room and into what appeared to be some kind of cathedral. There were no lights in here, and we had to flip down our night vision goggles. We had entered the cathedral from behind the pulpit, and as we scanned the rows of pews in night vision greenish-gray, we breathed in the smell of fresh cement.

  “The Ravens’ church,” Mary said, her words echoing off the walls. She added in a whisper, “Why do you think the Ravens would worship in Apollo’s Temple?”

  “Are you kidding?” I said. “This is clearly Apollo’s Temple on the outside only. Besides, these lunatics probably think Apollo’s Temple is actually the Ravens’ Temple.”

  “Human sacrifice?” Adam ventured, standing behind a large pagan altar with dual menacing ravens etched into it.

  We joined him, and Mary ran her fingers along the altar’s cold, flat surface. “You know, there’s an ice cream shop near me that mixes flavors on a marble slab like this.”

  “Well, maybe they do that on Saturdays for the little Ravens,” I said.

  “Maybe,” Mary replied.

  We continued through the cathedral and into a room that had g
as-fed torches along its walls. We lifted our goggles and heard muffled gunfire.

  “It came from up ahead,” Adam pointed his rifle toward the door ahead of us.

  But when we pulled the door open, we found ourselves facing a marble wall. The Ravens had stacked two of their huge marble blocks in our way.

  “Stand back,” I told Mary and Adam. I pushed the top block off the stack. It toppled thunderously to the floor. I aimed my M16 over the half wall.

  “Henry?” I heard my father call out. I could see the barrel of a rifle peeking around a massive Greek column. He chuckled, lowered his rifle, and stepped into view. “Who else could it be?”

  Antonio appeared from behind him.

  Mary, Adam, and I climbed over the blocks and out of the temple into a large room. Two Raven guards were sprawled out on the marble floor, partly covering a white and black Raven Entelechy logo.

  “Glad you could make it.” My father greeted each of us with a warm embrace. “We’ve been rather busy ourselves.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” I said.

  “Oldest trick in the book,” Antonio muttered, looking confoundedly at the fallen ravens.

  “What’s the oldest trick in the book?” I asked.

  “The senator said he was going to rip one of their guns out of their hands and shoot them both. And that’s what he did.”

  “Classic Colonel Warland.” Adam chuckled.

  “Haven’t lost my touch.” My father slapped Adam’s shoulder.

  “Where’s Gabriel?” Antonio looked at the door we had just come through.

  “He’s on the roof,” I said, “but he’s fine. He just hurt his leg.”

  “And he’s heavily armed and behind cover,” Adam added, giving Antonio a confident, leathery smile.

  “But, we leave no man behind. Is that not true?” Antonio asked.