by Doug Burbey
DK blinked, looking at her. "And detailing for my truck."
She glanced up at him, her eyes tracking over his body. He knew she saw every gouge every rip, and the amount of blood that covered him, very little of it his.
"Of course. Your expertise is appreciated. Please do call ahead next time." She glanced at the door. "It would lower the maintenance costs significantly.
DK narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't know if I find you incredibly sexy right now or if I just want to put a bullet in your head."
She didn't even look at him, instead kept picking up the 'trophies' he'd dumped on her desk. "Let me know when you figure it out, so I know whether to kill you or just make your dick quit working."
A bark of laughter escaped without his permission and he grabbed the Reset.
"Will do." With that he walked out, suddenly feeling much better than when he walked in.
Chapter 21 - Tank Rage
Standing inside his large metal work shed, Declan wiped his forehead off with a greasy shop rag and then did the same for his hands. He glared down at the M3 Stuart light tank's 220 horsepower diesel engine block sitting on jacks in front of the open and exposed compartment of the light tank. It sounded like a great idea when he decided to buy a fixer-upper tank and have it shipped to his property all the way from Texas. Right now, that idea seemed less appealing to him as he tapped at the oil return line gauge in frustration.
Why the hell aren't you building pressure?
Declan turned and grabbed a new set of hose clamps, along with a set of heavy pliers, and began to replace the line connectors at the end of the engine along with its sister couplings feeding into the engine compartment.
It's been a long time since I've ground hopped a tank engine. That dude should have told me there was no maintenance manual with this son of a bitch.
Declan checked all the oil lines and then proceeded to do the same for each of the fuel lines. He then ran two power cables from his workshops' power inverter and attached them to the starter leads of the tank's engine. After double-checking his work, and was satisfied that everything was correct, he climbed into the small turret, wiggled his body into the driver seat pushing his head out through the open hatch as he reached down, and squeezed the butterfly starter coil.
"Alright, you fussy little bitch, give it to me this time."
When Declan squeezed the starter, he was momentarily satisfied by seeing the engine shake slightly as the starter attempted to turn the motor shaft and a cough of smoke puffed out of the manifold exhaust before stopping quickly with a loud clunk.
"Shit."
Declan climbed back out of the tank through the turret and walked around to the front slope of the tank where the engine sat inert on stands. As he passed his workbench he grabbed the small sledgehammer then looked down at the eighty-year-old starter, unsure what to try next.
Well, this used to work with an M1 starter let's see if it's the same on an old M3. My guess is the solenoid is stuck. “So how do you unstick a tank starter? Well Sir, you hit it with the big fucking hammer." Declan spoke aloud to the empty workshop. He struck the front nose of the starter with the hammer hearing a satisfying thunk noise as its internal solenoid disengaged and the spring popped itself back into position. But as the solenoid snapped into place, Declan heard metal bending as the lower end of the small engine begin to slide backward towards him as the supporting jack stand shifted.
"Son of a..."
The small engine sliding off the stand clipped Declan's shin sending pain shooting up his leg. Instinctively he reached down to grab the heavy engine before it fell completely on his leg. The pain radiating up his body began to mute as his eyesight started sharpening and his ears began to hum as his blood pressure increased. He could feel the rage instantly surging forward into his body into his arms as he lifted a weight far beyond what he should be capable of lifting. He knew he could be ripping his own muscles as the rage surged through him, flooding his bloodstream. No longer even thinking, he lifted the engine up a few inches and pushed his body against it, setting it cleanly back on the jack. DK backed away staring at the ton of metal in front of him as the rage pounded against his temples. He grabbed the hammer and began to smash it repeatedly against the hull of its tank breaking the head of the hammer off, then throwing the handle clearly across the room
"Son of a rat’s ass!"
Declan knew that if anything, or anyone, so much as entered the room he would lash out violently at them. The pain in his leg was nothing more than an inconsequential dull ache but the raw power surging through his body felt delicious. He could use this power right now and take a life without question. He could own the existence of another, taking every ounce of their blood and power as his own.
No. I can't let it control me for this shit.
By sheer force of will, Declan shoved his hand into his cargo pocket, wrapping his trembling fingers around the small metal cylinder inside of it. It was only in his pocket because he'd found it on the seat of his truck the other day and had dropped it there, meaning to put it away. He pulled out the auto-injector of Reset and quickly slammed it into the side of his neck. The release of the chemicals that flooded into his body cleared his mind nearly instantly, bringing with it a return of consciousness and cognitive thought.
Unfortunately, it also allowed the pain it had been suppressing to jump back into his brain, flooding his bloodstream and making him crumple to the floor grabbing his leg.
"Damn it!" He panted through the pain as he tried not to scream, waiting for the first burst to dissipate.
How long am I going to survive burning through Reset every time I get pissed off or hurt?
When the pain had receded to manageable levels, he saw it was a nasty scrape, and probably a bone bruise, but not anything that needed medical attention, Declan began to put his tools back on the workbench. His mind was locked in worry about how quickly he reached for Reset to solve his problems when the audible alarm of one of the perimeter sensor activations kicked off.
Instinctively he glanced over at the flat screen on the side of his workshop wall and glanced at the cameras pointing towards the entry points to his property. He noticed it was the familiar Suburban coming up.
Huh, Andrew's here. Wonder if this is good or bad?
When Andrew reached the first road gate his phone chimed, alerting him to a text message. Declan picked up his phone, confirmed that it was from Andrew, and replied “Hold on, I'm opening the gate. I'm back in the workshop the north side of the property.” He triggered the gate opening and turned to stare at the recalcitrant tank.
About ten minutes later. Declan heard Andrew's Suburban pulling up to the front of the workshop.
Andrew pulled open the sliding door and walked into the workshop, barely even glancing at Declan as he started to take in the light tank being worked on in the bay. "Holy shit, you really do have a tank in here, don't you?"
"What's really generous is that you consider it a real tank, seeing as how it's in about 400 damn pieces and just about crushed my leg thirty minutes ago." Declan said as he limped lightly towards his workbench.
"What are bitching about? A little blood is required for every type of maintenance. Didn't your daddy ever teach you that?"
"Way to show up after my damn mounts broke and nearly killed me, Cabello." He said dryly, though if Andrew had been here it might have been very bad.
"Yeah, whatever. Declan, I know you got beer fridge in here somewhere, so por favor."
"Yes, in back. Help yourself. Then come back here and tell me why the hell this ground hop kit is not working right."
Andrew came back with two bottles of beers, handed one to Declan, then immediately turned around and looked at how the engine lines were running into the engine compartment of the tank while humming softly to himself.
"What do you think?"
"Well, looks pretty solid. What is the problem?"
"I got a splutter. I got a puff of exhaust and then nothing
. Then I got pissed off and walloped on the starter with a hammer and heard a thunk."
"Well, that does sound like it was a starter. My guess is the hammer will have already loosened the solenoid. Did you try to jump it again?"
"Just about to. Hang on, let me climb in the turret and give it another crank."
Declan took another long pull of beer, still trying to regain his balance, before he clambered back into the turret. He reached into the driver's hatch, squeezed the igniter and received a satisfying sputter then the tanks old motor turned over.
"Shit, sounds like you got it. My work here is done." Andrew gave Declan a mock salute with the neck of the beer bottle tapping his forehead.
After shutting off the motor, Declan sat on the edge of the turret, pulling from his beer then looked down at Andrew. "That's the problem brother. I don't think our work is really done."
"Ah, we'll get this thing back together. That's not work. That's going to be fun. Heck, give me a key to your work shed here. I'll swing by when I got free time and fix everything you screw up, because you won't admit you don't know shit about fixing tanks."
"That's not what I'm talking about. Our real work. They've come back."
Andrew's face flushed. "Bullshit! That's not funny. Not one damned bit."
"Sorry. I killed four demons the other night. Then last week another three. Hell, this all started with the drone that attacked me outside the VFW. You know where there's a drone, there's a horde forming. And now I've got a regular gig going out and killing them. And I'm getting busier."
"Aww fuck me, man…" Andrew drained his beer in one long pull then slowly set it down on the workbench. "What should we do?"
"Personally, I'd like to shutter the compound, set all the charges, get good and drunk, and then let the Apocalypse come to me." Declan noticed Andrew's look at his statement. "But, you know that's not gonna happen. My plan is to take the fight to them wherever I can find them."
"We’ve both been here before. Too much hard-won bad road behind me to give back one fucking inch of it. Not a single fucking inch!" Andrew nearly shouted. "What do you need from me, Declan?"
"Just be ready when I call. I'm thinking I'll need your pick-up game again."
"You got it, brother. But, you're buying all the beer on this hunt and hopefully we'll both make it out the other side." Andrew headed back to the beer fridge cursing a little under his breath.
Chapter 22 - Boss and Picnics
Mr. Ordonio walked leisurely toward the pair of large black four-wheel-drive armored government utility vehicles idling by the curb. The second vehicle’s rear passenger door was held open by an armed tactical agent for the ICER Director.
"Why thank you, Steven. It is Steven, right?" He asked the agent holding the door as he approached the vehicle.
"Yes, it is, sir. By the way, thank you very much for the flowers you sent to my wife when she got home with the new baby. She was thrilled, sir."
Kelvin paused at the door and smiled back at the waiting agent. "Oh, really it was nothing. I'm just glad mom and baby are home happy and healthy. Now we have a new member of the Team ICERs family. I do hope you bring them both to our next department picnic."
"Absolutely, sir. We wouldn't miss it."
"Now, Steven, I do think I told you guys that you really don't need to do this opening the door thing. It seems a bit pretentious don't you think?"
"No way, sir. We know how hard you look after us all. You're definitely one of the good guys and it's the least we can do." The agent responded almost shyly.
"Well thank you, Steven. That's very kind. But you tactical guys are the real heroes here, I'm just an overpaid paper pusher." Kelvin clapped the agent on the bicep as he entered the vehicle and the door was closed behind him.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you get men to kill, or die, for you with a smile.
"Really, Kelvin, you sent flowers to an escort agent's wife?" The man seated across from the ICER Director, one Mr. Barry Boyd, his Director of Operations. Barry was born and raised to be the next generation of a proud African-American Virginia farming family. He had the strong farmers build for it, at over six foot two, and the body of a triathlete. Even at the age of fifty he still held his own against the interns at lunch on the basketball court. But Barry just hadn't seen himself heading back home after graduating the Virginia Military Institute on an ROTC scholarship. Instead, after a few years in the United States Army Barry had crossed over to the ‘Dark Side', as his father put it, and had become a career government civilian. For the last twenty of those years, Barry had worked for Kelvin in some fashion or another.
"Of course, they just had a baby!" Kelvin beamed and rubbed his hands together excitedly. "I really hope they do bring the little one to the picnic. I love babies. Particularly when the mother and father are both certified at 100%." He pointed directly at Barry for emphasis with his smile fading slightly, "That, Mr. Boyd, is what this world needs most."
"I got it, Kelvin. What I was getting at was that you bust my ass over buying extra printer paper for the office and then turn around and buy flowers for a bottom of the org chart employee."
Barry didn't look at him while he talked, which was something that annoyed him to no end.
"First off, language. Second, there's no reason for us to use so much paper. It's not good for the environment. Third, that agent's job is to put his life on the line to protect us. So, if he has to choose who to take a bullet for you, or me… Who just sent the man's wife flowers after she had a baby huh?"
"Damn, I concede. Well played, Kelvin. So on to business then."
Barry turned to look at him and Kelvin sighed. The man had no idea of how much the little actions supported the big ideas.
"Of course, but just a second." Kelvin leaned forward towards the driver. "Mr. Boulder, has the car been swept today?"
"Yes, sir, I cleared it myself at the motor pool this morning, and again two hours ago after we dropped you for your last meeting."
"Excellent, thank you very much, Mr. Boulder." Kelvin reclined back in his seat and pressed a small switch raising a privacy screen between the driver's seating and the passenger's area.
Barry continued, "The International Summit of ICER Directors in Salt Lake is now three months away but I'm still not comfortable with all our secondary members. One in particular."
"The Chinese again, right?" Kelvin frowned. It was critical that each ICER Director was either on-board, or a suitable replacement was immediately on-hand to assume command after the Summit. "I can't allow for any confusion or indecision in Salt Lake. While setting up the ICERs as a global response force, from all the modern military forces, may have sounded good to the fools at the U.N., the politics are tedious to say the least."
Barry nodded, his dark eyes sharp. "Yeah, it's the Chinese. The National People’s Congress appointee has proven unapproachable and his second, Mrs. Kim is well… I just don't trust her at all. I'd say our best option is to arrange for them to be replaced by the Chinese before the Summit. We'll just have to take our chances that we'll get leverage quickly over the new appointees."
"No Barry, that's too close to the Summit to risk another hardliner coming in."
Damn Chinese have always been cagey - filling their ICER offices with party loyalist instead of people who understood that humankind is more important than their own government.
"We always knew that Mrs. Kim was questionable. I'm not sure she really appreciates the magnitude of our mission. It is possible she is playing us. Waiting for us to remove her political competition before she turns on us and pushes the Chinese military to embrace their hunger for more and more magical exploitation. They'll doom us all to annihilation by by going down that path. No, I don't trust her. But if we can't get the Chinese to willingly come along, then after each country completes their part of the cleanup, we will all turn together to deal with the Chinese the old-fashioned way. Even if they fill their ranks with aberrations and risk fracturing the very re
alm wall that protects us with their use of magic, we'll remove the threat of the magic from humanity once and for all."
"So how do we keep Mrs. Kim in line then?"
The Director thought for a minute then lowered the privacy shield between him and the driver. "Mr. Boulder."
"Yes, Sir?" The driver responded, not taking his eyes off the road and maintaining perfect spacing with the security vehicle in from of him.
"Where was it that Mrs. Kim's daughter went to school?"
"Sir? The Chinese chick? Oh yeah. Her daughter goes to one of those Brit colleges… Cambridge I think."
"Thank you, Mr. Boulder." Kelvin closed the privacy screen again. "Now, Barry, I think a call to the London ICER Director is in order. He should have some of his fine team invite and escort Mrs. Kim's daughter to Salt Lake for the Summit. I think mothers are beautiful in how they will do almost anything to protect their children. Don't you, Barry?"
Barry smirked a bit. "Yes, I do, sir. I'll set up a secure teleconference for later today."
"Oh, it can wait till tomorrow morning. Time zones, remember. No need to be rude and make our London friend take a call at some ungodly hour of the morning just for us. Besides, I think it's time we called in a favor from our friends in Boston. Things have been too quiet lately and we cannot have humanity complacent ever again. No, never again. I won't allow it. "
"How many you want let out, Kelvin?"
"Just two or three should do it. Give them about three hours on the ground. Then have our people take care of them in front of local media. Make sure the press gets word that the rogue Mage oclave has not been fully accounted for and that they still pose a possible threat to the community. Run the standard PR reminder spots afterward that the government expressly forbids contacting the demon realm or trying to open portals as both are global treaty violations and capital offenses. That should keep the panic levels moving back upwards and give me a little bit of good PR for the department before my next hearing on the Hill with the funding appropriations bill writers."