The Frenzy War

by Gregory Lamberson

  In the dining room, Michael watched the footage he had shot of Cheryl and Rhonda on his laptop, with Angelo and Reddick beside him.

  “No edits. Let them try to call this a fake, especially after they find their corpses.” Michael unhooked the camera’s cable from the laptop and shut the computer down. “We’ll blast the video across the web and watch it go viral. By this time tomorrow, the entire world will believe what Gomez said about the beasts. It will be a Cheryl Mace double feature.”

  Angelo frowned.

  “What?”

  “We could have exposed them anytime we wanted, but we didn’t.”

  “We were never in danger of being shut down before. This way, Tudoro’s backers will continue to fund the war. If they don’t, others will pick up our cause.”

  “I’m loyal to Tudoro,” Reddick said.

  “You need to be loyal to the Brotherhood. In the end, Tudoro’s just another bureaucrat. Go find Colum and execute the prisoners.”

  “Why me?” Reddick said. “I don’t really feel like killing two women.”

  “Only one of them is a woman. The other is a beast. And you need to make your bones. The rest of us have already spilled plenty of blood.”

  “We triggered your explosives as you ordered.”

  “As far as we know, no wolves were killed in those explosions. Gabriel Domini’s carcass hasn’t been discovered yet.”

  Sighing, Reddick crossed the dining room.

  “Tell Valeria and Loreti to start on the ground floor.”

  Reddick waved to him with the back of his hand and left.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t kill the newswoman,” Angelo said.

  Michael raised his eyebrows.

  “She’s innocent as well as human. Her death will turn people against us.”

  “She’s seen our faces.”

  “She has now, anyway.”

  “We have only one course of action.” Michael closed the laptop and rose. “Do an idiot check and let’s get out of here.” Nodding, Angelo left the room.

  Michael looked around the space one last time. They had stripped everything they had used in the warehouse: weapons, cameras, monitors, luxury items. He knew their fingerprints were everywhere, which was why he intended to burn the building on the way out. He packed his laptop into his shoulder bag, which he slung over one shoulder, and headed out.

  With her Glock drawn, Norton preceded Shelly into the dark tunnel that led into the warehouse parking lot. The brick tunnel ran perhaps thirty feet in length and had a curved ceiling. They hurried through it, an SUV and a white cargo van coming into view in the square parking lot.

  Norton took a step forward into the lot, then jumped back when a loading bay door opened and a woman with long black hair, streaked blonde, and a scruffy-looking man emerged from the building onto the concrete loading platform. They wore civilian clothes, not the combat fatigues Willy had described.

  The woman hopped off the platform onto the asphalt, then walked to the van and climbed into the front seat. She started the engine and backed the vehicle up to the loading dock. The man opened the rear doors and started loading equipment cases and luggage into the van. The woman got out and trotted up the concrete steps and helped him.

  “Looks like ordinance to me,” Shelly said.

  “Looks like they’re running for the hills to me,” Norton said.

  Valeria closed the van doors, then she, Loreti, and Colum walked back inside the loading bay, and she closed the door. No sooner had they entered the adjacent corridor than they ran into Reddick.

  “The video’s good,” Reddick said. “Colum, we have to do the prisoners.”

  “Now?” Colum said.

  “That’s what Michael says.”

  “Okay, let’s get it over with.”

  “Valeria, Michael said for you and Loreti to start on the ground floor.”

  “Right,” Valeria said.

  Reddick and Colum moved in one direction and Valeria and Loreti in the other.

  Mace watched Willy attempt to open the second-floor window closest to the fire escape. When it didn’t budge, the lieutenant looked down and shook his head. Mace made a fist with one hand, and Willy nodded.

  Norton’s voice came over the speaker in his ear. “A man and a woman just loaded up a van and went back inside. We’re guessing artillery and ammo in addition to luggage. We got here just in time. They’re bugging out.”

  “Sit on those vehicles,” Mace said. “We can’t have them retrieving those weapons or making a run for it.”

  “Copy that. If they come outside, we’ll be ready for them.” Mace turned to Gabriel. “I heard,” he said.

  Looking up, Mace saw Karol filling Willy in.

  “Okay, let’s take them,” Mace said.

  Drawing his Glock, he kicked in the plywood over the basement window. Above, Willy used a flashlight to smash a windowpane, then reached inside, unlocked the window, and raised it. Mace took out his own flashlight, got down on his knees, and crawled backward through the window, dropping into darkness. He landed on a concrete floor, turned, and aimed his flashlight, its circle of light moving across old machinery. Gabriel landed behind him, and they made their way through the darkness.

  Willy climbed through the window and hopped onto the hard tile floor, then helped Karol do the same. “Careful,” he said, turning on his flashlight.

  “You be careful,” she said. “I don’t need the light to see.”

  “You go with your bad self.”

  They moved between rows of old sewing machines.

  “This place is like a museum,” Karol said.

  “Let’s just hope we don’t become featured exhibits.”

  Mace and Gabriel penetrated the gloomy interior of the basement, stepping on wet floors and passing junk piled to the ceiling.

  “I bet you wish you had your shoes on now,” Mace said.

  Gabriel touched his arm. “Hold it. I smell something.”

  “No kidding. This place reeks of sewage and must.”

  “No. I smell a Wolf. It must be Rhonda. She’s alive!”

  Mace’s heart beat faster. Then Cheryl was alive too. “Which way?”

  Gabriel sniffed the air. “I’m not sure. You’re right about the odors in here. They’re interfering with my sense of smell. And there’s no ventilation.”

  Come on; come on, Mace thought.

  “Up ahead. Keep moving.”

  “Do you get the feeling we’re purposefully being kept out of the action?” Shelly said. “Maybe,” Norton said.

  “I don’t like being sidelined, especially when I brought my big gun.”

  “If anything happens in there, you’ll get to use it.” She scanned the first-floor windows, all barred. “What do you make of Domini?”

  “He sure looks human to me.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

  “It’ll be a shame if we have to kill him.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  At the far end of the warehouse space, Valeria unscrewed the metal cap on the gasoline can and splashed the fuel on the floor and furniture. Loreti did the same twenty feet away from her. By the time Valeria saw Michael approaching them, the area reeked of gas. He carried a can of gasoline in each hand, and when he stopped before them, they each took one and resumed their work.

  “It will be just another abandoned building blaze when the authorities arrive,” Michael said, “with no evidence that we were ever here, except for two charred corpses in the basement, which may never be discovered.”

  “Where are we heading from here?” Valeria said.

  “Kentucky. There’s a small pack we can exterminate without drawing attention to ourselves.”

  “And then?”

  “Virginia. Or Florida. Maybe Arkansas.” Valeria closed her eyes for a moment. “It will never end, will it?”

  “This war’s lasted hundreds of years, and we’ve never been closer to success.”

  Some success, Valeria thought. M
yles, Henri, and Eun were all dead, and the Brotherhood had run out of money. Somehow she had envisioned a different life for herself, but she continued to pour gasoline.

  Angelo checked each of the offices the Brotherhood had used as bedrooms and a larger room that had been used for training purposes. The replacement brothers had removed everything as instructed. He passed through the dining room once more and was about to press the call button for the elevator when he saw a flashlight beam moving along the wall of the darkened corridor ahead. Intruders.

  He backed up into the dining room and drew his Blade.

  Hearing the bolt slide open again, Cheryl rose, convinced the time of their execution was at hand. The door opened, and two men stood there. A strange sound came out of her mouth, one she could not control.

  Tony smiled. “Are you glad to see me?”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she sobbed.

  Tony crossed the room and took her into his arms.

  “Gabriel?” Rhonda said.

  Cheryl watched Gabriel Domini walk through the cell with a ring of keys in one hand.

  “It’s okay, Rhonda.” He tried different keys in the manacle on Rhonda’s wrist. “What happened to your arm?”

  “Th-th-they—”

  The manacle snapped open.

  “They’ll pay for that,” Gabriel said.

  Rhonda raised her stump. “It’s growing back …”

  “Shh.” Gabriel unlocked the manacles around her ankles, then tossed the ring to Tony, who searched for the keys to Cheryl’s manacles. Gabriel took off his shirt and held it out to Rhonda. She turned her back to everyone and slipped her arms into the sleeves.

  When she turned around, tears streamed down her cheeks. “Muh-muh-my muh-muh-ther …”

  Gabriel buttoned the shirt. “I know.”

  Cheryl watched the girl wipe snot from her nose on the palm of her hand, and then she looked at Tony as he freed her wrists and set to work on her ankles. “I knew you’d come.”

  He nodded at Gabriel. “His people found you.”

  People, she thought.

  A loud noise came from the corridor.

  “That’s the elevator,” Cheryl said. “It’s around the corner.”

  Holding his Glock in both hands, Willy turned down the intersecting corridor. Karol moved beside him, her gun raised. A dozen closed doors stretched before them.

  Willy stopped at a door opposite the freight elevator gate, his hand closing on the knob.

  The freight elevator hummed to life on the other side of the wooden gate.

  “Someone’s coming,” Karol said.

  Turning his back to the door, Willy aimed at the freight elevator gate and moved to his left. Karol did the same, moving to her right. Willy ignored the sweat forming on his brow.

  The freight elevator rose into view and stopped at their floor. Empty, Willy thought. “I wonder who—” The door to Willy’s right opened, and a man stepped out and swung a sword deep into his neck.

  After unlocking the manacles around Cheryl’s ankles, Mace sprinted through the doorway so fast he slammed into the wall just as two men rounded the corridor, each carrying a sword. Their eyes widened at the sight of Mace, and they jumped back just as he triggered his Glock, the ensuing gunshot ricocheting off the wall.

  Mace ran toward the corner, then dove to the floor, sliding out where the corridors intersected. The two men stood before the door to an elevator and a gate to a freight elevator, pounding each call button with frantic urgency.

  “NYPD!”

  They turned in Mace’s direction. “Drop those swords!”

  The men charged to a door set in the corridor wall, and

  Mace depressed the trigger of his semiautomatic. The Glock barked in his hands, spitting empty casings into the air, the reports coming in rapid succession.

  The first man got through the door, but the gunfire stitched a semicircle of crimson in the second man’s chest and he fell, his sword clattering beside him.

  Mace sprang to his feet, ran to the door, and flung it open. He found himself staring into a murky stairway with concrete steps. A muzzle flashed above him, and a bullet ricocheted off the door, and he jumped back.

  Gabriel ran down the corridor and scooped up the fallen

  Blade.

  “The other one made it up the stairs.” Mace kicked the corpse of the assassin over. The man had worn a scabbard for his Blade slung over his back.

  Cheryl and Rhonda came around the corner and looked at the body on the floor.

  “Take them back the way we came,” Mace said to Gabriel.

  “You take them back,” Gabriel said.

  Mace shook his head. “I’m the leader of this task force. I have people up there. You shouldn’t even be here. We both got what we came for. Now get them to safety.”

  “No,” Cheryl said. “You need each other. We can do it on our own. Just tell us the way.”

  “Rhonda can follow my scent out of here,” Gabriel said. “My going along would be a pointless gesture.”

  “All right.” Mace pressed his Glock into Cheryl’s hand. “It’s ready to fire, so be careful. You should have six shots left in that magazine. Don’t get cute and try to shoot it with one hand, and don’t lose it. I’m breaking a law just giving it to you.”

  “I love you,” Cheryl said.

  He kissed her. “I love you too.”

  Karol watched in disbelief as blood jetted out of the side of Willy’s neck and he sank to his knees and toppled over. His head flopped at an unnatural angle, and she realized he had almost been decapitated. More blood sprayed out of the wound, and his glassy eyes stopped blinking. “No!”

  The man with the Blade of Salvation pivoted toward Karol, drawing his sword back to swing again.

  Screaming, Karol fired her Glock repeatedly. The man danced, dropped his sword, and danced some more, the rounds tearing into his body keeping him erect. Then the slide on Karol’s gun locked into place, and the man collapsed in a bloody heap on the floor.

  With gun smoke lingering in the air, Karol dropped to her knees and cradled Willy in her arms. His head hung off his shoulders, and blood gurgled out of the gaping wound.

  Touching her headset, Karol said, “Man down! Man down!”

  Then she burst into tears.

  Norton heard gunshots coming from the basement.

  “We’ve engaged the enemy,” she heard Mace say over her headset.

  Then she heard a continuous burst of gunfire coming from the second floor.

  “Man down!” Karol said. “Man down!”

  Norton and Shelly looked at each other.

  “Cover me.” Shelly ran across the parking lot with his shotgun gripped in both hands.

  Norton stepped out of the tunnel too, sweeping the lot with her Glock.

  Shelly climbed the concrete steps beside the parked van two at a time. He threw himself against the wall next to the door and counted to three, then stepped away from the door, aimed his shotgun, and blew off the knob.

  Michael watched Valeria and Loreti douse the walls with gasoline. The fumes smelled good to him but not as good as they would smell after he had ignited them.

  A series of bangs caused him to stiffen.

  “Gunshots,” Valeria said.

  More gunfire, this time coming from upstairs, caused him to flinch.

  “Where are the guns?” Michael said.

  “In the van, where you told me to put them,” Valeria said.

  From another direction, the blast of a shotgun echoed.

  Reaching behind him, Michael drew his Blade of Salvation. Discarding their gasoline cans, Valeria and Loreti drew their Blades as well. Poised to strike, they moved toward the opposite end of the warehouse.

  The door for the basement stairway flew open, and Colum leapt out, gripping a .38 revolver. He slammed the door shut and pressed its button lock.

  At least he has a gun, Michael thought.

  “Cops,” Colum said, wild-eyed.

  Mic
hael smiled. “Is that all?”

  A wet thudding sound echoed in the stairway leading to the second floor. A bloody head rolled down the stairs and came to rest on the floor, and Angelo’s lifeless eyes gazed at Michael.

  A shadow fell on the wall as someone came down the stairs. The first thing Michael noticed about the black woman was her nude body. The second was the Blade she held in one hand, its tip aimed at the stairs ahead of her. Measuring each of the Torquemadans below, she moved with deliberation, her bare feet touching the stairs one at a time.

  When she reached the floor, she drew back her sword. “Which one of you wants to be first?”

  Colum aimed his revolver at the woman. “Drop that sword.”

  The woman looked at each human in turn. Then she dropped her Blade on the floor and raised her hands.

  “Shoot her in the head,” Michael said.

  Colum aimed his revolver at the woman’s head. Then the door behind him burst open.

  Mace kicked the door open, and Gabriel leapt out of the stairwell with his sword pulled back. Mace followed, the door swinging shut behind him, and took in the scene: the assassin they had chased upstairs swung a revolver in their direction. Behind him, Karol stood naked with her hands raised. What the hell?

  Twenty-five feet away, three more assassins stood with their swords drawn, two men and a woman. Somewhere to his right, a shotgun exploded and the assassin holding the revolver flew off his feet, a gaping hole in his chest, and lay dead near Karol’s feet.

  “FBI!” Norton said as Shelly pumped his shotgun.

  Seeing no way to stop a shotgun with a sword from twenty feet away, Valeria drew her tranq gun, aimed it, and squeezed its trigger. The gun made a gentle pop, and the male FBI agent clawed at his neck in surprise. Valeria holstered her tranq gun and heard Michael and Loreti draw theirs.

  “I’m hit?” the bald man said in a strange tone. His female partner glanced at him, and he hit the floor hard, still holding the shotgun.

  “Shelly!” The female FBI agent crouched beside her partner, but instead of checking to see if he was okay, she seized his shotgun with one hand. Rising, she holstered her Glock and aimed the shotgun, but Michael and Loreti fired their tranq guns, and their darts struck the woman’s Kevlar vest. Dropping the shotgun, she pulled one dart out with ease, then struggled to jerk the other one free. It finally came out, and she stared at it before pitching forward unconscious.