by David Estes
The angels burst out of the house and raced towards the incoming attackers. Seeing five angels roaring towards him, a look of surprise flashed across the lead angel’s face, and he halted his team in midair. A second later, Sampson crashed into him shoulder first, generating enough force to knock a 747 off its flight pattern. At the same time, twelve demons appeared out of thin air, each landing on the back of an angel.
Having the element of surprise in their favor, the Sampson-led team quickly gained the advantage, knocking several of the angels out of the sky. The remaining angels turned tail and ran, or flew rather, retreating from the surprise attack. The five demon-friendly angels chased them for a few miles to ensure they wouldn’t try to make a second attack. Finally, satisfied that the enemy was gone, they returned to the attic, where all of the demons were now gathered.
“Something ain’t right,” Sampson said. “That was way too easy.”
Chapter Forty
While listening to the radio transmission from his team, Dionysus cracked his knuckles in anticipation. He had gathered the full Archangel Council together to monitor the situation. They sat around a long, glowing table in the Master’s Room; the mission was being broadcast in full surround sound. They would be able to hear every word in clear Dolby Digital.
Dionysus looked around the room, sizing up his friends, or maybe his potential enemies. This was the moment of truth. If one of them was a traitor, then surely the demons would be protecting the girl’s father. Each Council member seemed to be focused on the broadcast; there were no fearful faces in this crowd. Dionysus frowned in concentration as the mission leader announced that they were within 500 feet of the target.
“400 feet, 300 feet. Wait, there’s something emerging from the roof. Crap, there are five angels approaching us from the house. I can’t make out their faces. Stop the attack!” the voice commanded, presumably to his team. And then: “Oomph, dammit…Who are—?”
“What’s happening?” Dionysus yelled to no one in particular.
Various voices came through the speakers. They heard, “It’s a trap!” followed by two screams and “I’m hit!” Finally, someone yelled, “Retreat! For God’s sake, retreat!” The rush of wind whistled in the night.
Dionysus picked up a wireless microphone and raised it to his lips. “Is anyone there? Can anyone tell me what’s happening?”
Ten seconds passed in silence. And then a frantic voice, bathed in static said, “We have nine down…ssshhh…knew we were coming…ssshhh…never had a chance.”
“Don’t bother coming back,” Dionysus sneered into the microphone. His voice echoed hollowly through the room. Not waiting for a reply, he turned off the speakers with the press of a button on the control panel in front of him. “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears we have a rat amongst us.”
Ten highly armed guards stormed into the room, surrounding the table. The doors slammed behind them, the lock engaging with a loud click. Suddenly, thick, steel sheets dropped from the ceiling, covering the windows.
The Master’s Room had become a prison.
Johanna was the first to her feet. “What is the meaning of this, Dionysus?” she demanded.
Dionysus rose slowly, like it was very painful for him to stand up. “SIT DOWN!” he roared. Dropping his tone a notch, he said, “Or we will make you.”
Surprised at the forcefulness of his demand, Johanna eyed one of the guards, who looked ready to make her sit if she didn’t cooperate. Reluctantly, she returned to her seat. “Please explain yourself,” she asked in a softer tone.
Laughing evilly to himself, Dionysus pointed a finger at the first Council member, who happened to be Andrew, and said, “I have just proven that you are a traitor.”
Andrew froze.
Dionysus continued, “Or rather, one of you is a traitor.” He shifted the aim of his finger casually around the table, pausing on each face, as if to consider it.
Andrew realized he had been holding his breath. He slowly released the air, trying to mask his sigh of relief. Dionysus didn’t know it was him. At least not yet.
“The mission that we just listened to—the one that failed miserably because the demons seemed to be one step ahead of us—was only discussed amongst the Council. Even the team involved didn’t know what their target was until I personally briefed them on it five minutes before it started. And yet…And yet somehow the demons were ready for us, as they have been on so many occasions. Always one step ahead of us. What is the only feasible explanation for this, my friends? Anyone care to take a stab at it?”
Dionysus’s second-in-command, Michael, fearlessly said, “Someone leaked it.”
“Exactly. And it had to be someone in this very room, because you were the only ones who knew. We are not leaving this room until the rat, or rats, have come forward and been punished for their crimes.” Dionysus smiled. “But first, the rest of the entertainment.”
Pressing a button to activate the speakers once more, Dionysus spoke into the microphone. “Lucas, are you ready?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then let the fun begin.”
Chapter Forty-One
“I’d say everything went perfectly,” Chris countered.
“Listen to me, man. I know these angels. Something is wrong. They are up to something.” Sampson had been trying to explain his fears to the demons for fifteen minutes, but couldn’t seem to make any headway.
“You may be right, but I think the only thing we can do right now is to leave the lead team here to keep an eye on things, and go back to the Lair to debrief.”
Sampson couldn’t argue with that. All he had was a feeling, but he couldn’t substantiate it and he didn’t have any better ideas.
Within seconds, the mission team was back in the teleport room. They charged back down the tunnel. They needed to be ready if there was another attack.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Operation Bait and Switch is now underway,” Lucas said sharply to his team. As instructed by Dionysus, he narrated their progress for the benefit of the Council, who were plugged into their radio frequency. “Phase one is complete with David Knight having been taken into special custody. We now begin phase two: the capture of Helena and Theodore Knight, and their youngest son, Peter Knight.” Lucas grinned, as he pictured the shocked faces of the Council members when they learned the nature of the secret mission. All brought to you by Lucas Sharpe.
His team, hand selected by him for their abilities and trustworthiness, mirrored his delight in being a part of this mission. They huddled around him now. Crab, one of the tougher blokes in the bunch said, “Want me to do the honors?”
“Go for it.”
The giant known as Crab leaned back, raising his leg sharply in the air and then smashing the heel of his right boot into the door, shattering the knob, the primary lock, and the deadbolt in one swift motion. Splinters of wood scattered on the tile floor as the door burst open inwards, allowing access to the house. They rushed in professionally, two at a time, covering each other’s backs. “We’re in,” Lucas announced for his audience.
A scream sounded from the next room. “Leave him alone, he’s not one of us, he’s fragile,” said a woman’s voice. Lucas strode purposefully into a brightly-lit living room, analyzing the situation. Crab had a terror-stricken man pinned to the wall by his neck. On the couch, a young boy, Peter he presumed, had a gun leveled at his head by another angel. Like his brother, David, the boy had a shocking resemblance to his eldest brother, the infamous Gabriel Knight.
The woman yelling was on her knees, hands clasped tightly together, like she was praying. She continued to beg for the lives of her family. “Please, don’t hurt him. He’s only a boy.” Her thick blond hair fell around her face messily—she had likely been thrown to the ground, rather than ending up there on her own.
A particularly nasty female angel stood over her. She was one of Lucas’s favorite recruits. Her name was Cassandra and like Lucas, she had a grudge against Gabriel, h
aving been dumped by him a long time ago or something. Grabbing a fistful of Helena Knight’s hair, Cassandra snarled, “Want me to shut her up?”
Beauty and purpose, Lucas thought, admiring the versatility of the blonde bombshell standing before him. “Thank you for the offer, but you will have your chance later. Let me speak to her.” Hearing a gasping noise coming from his left, he added, “You can release him now, Crab.”
Reluctantly, Crab removed his hand from Theodore Knight’s throat. The breathless man fell to the ground, his knees buckling when his feet hit the floor. Crab rested his foot on Gabriel’s father’s back. “That should hold him, boss.”
Lucas turned back to Gabriel’s mom. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Knight. You and your family might just survive this if you cooperate.”
“What do you want from us?” Helena asked angrily.
Lucas strode forward and snapped his hand sharply, like a whip, the back of it connecting forcefully with her face. “Shut up! I’ll be asking the questions!”
“Leave her alone,” Mr. Knight croaked, his face flush against the carpet. Crab kicked him once, hard in the stomach. Theodore groaned in agony.
“You can shut up, too,” Crab grunted.
Cassandra laughed. “This is getting fun already.”
“What happened to you, Cassie?” The question came from Helena. “You and Gabriel used to be such good friends.”
“Listen, bitch. I’m not the traitor here.”
“I…I don’t understand. What are you talking about, Cass?”
Lucas said, “Either you are a good liar or you are completely unaware of your eldest son’s recent anti-angel activities.”
“Gabriel? I haven’t heard from him in months. Every time I call they tell me he’s on a top-secret assignment.”
Lucas licked his lips greedily. He would take especial pleasure in telling her the news. He paused between phrases for effect. “Your son…Gabriel Knight…is a traitor. He tried to help the demons, was sent to prison, broke out, and is now living in the Lair.”
She looked genuinely stunned. “That’s not possible…I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t really care what you believe. You will believe it soon enough, once we take you back to headquarters. Dionysus can tell you himself if you want. He’s the one who authorized this mission. If you’re lucky, he’ll be merciful. If it were up to me, the family of the traitor would be executed, too.” Lucas spat out these last words in disgust.
Helena went to say something, or maybe ask another question, but Lucas beat her to it. “Okay, Cass. Now you can shut her up.” A gleam in her eye, Cassandra clamped her hands together and crashed them down on the back of Helena’s head, like a sledge hammer. She slumped to the ground, unmoving.
Theodore tried to rise to his feet, but Crab, with lightning quickness, bludgeoned him in the temple with his blaster. The only human in the room rolled twice, and then lay still; a trickle of blood dribbled from his head and began pooling on the floor.
Peter, still sitting on the couch, hugged his knees, his eyes wide with terror. Lucas stood over him. “Don’t worry, kid. We won’t hurt you, so long as you don’t do anything stupid.” With a wave of his arm, he motioned for his team to exit the house. They dragged the three prisoners with them.
Once airborne, Lucas announced for his audience: “Mission successful. Gabriel Knight’s entire family has been taken into custody. We hope you enjoyed the broadcast. Over and out.” Turning off his radio, Lucas breathed in a deep breath of fresh, night air. If you wiggle a big enough worm, the fish will come, he thought to himself. And he would take great pleasure in personally filleting Gabriel Knight.
Chapter Forty-Three
“Well done, Dionysus. You did it.” It was Michael who spoke. Dionysus could tell that his right hand man meant it. He was never really a suspect, but wanted to keep him in the dark just long enough to completely rule him out. Dionysus sighed in satisfaction. He had done it. Tricked the traitor, tricked the demons. Now, the trap could finally be set bring Gabriel, and then the girl, back under their control. But first, he had a mole to catch.
“Thank you, Michael.” Looking around the room, he asked, “Do you all share Michael’s sentiment? That it was a job well done? I know at least one of you is not too happy with the success—bitterly disappointed even. I know at least one of you is trembling inside, sweating from fear of being discovered, kicking yourself for being so careless.”
Beneath his white robe, Andrew was trembling and he could surely feel the sweat beginning to meander from under his arms and knees. Trying to keep his face steady, he felt like his mouth was contorted unnaturally and that one look from Dionysus would pierce his soul and leave his secrets bare, revealing his treachery. When Dionysus walked past him lazily, he stopped breathing until the shadow had moved on.
Dionysus continued moving around the table. “Duck, duck, duck,” he said soothingly, tapping each Archangel on the head gently. “Goose!” he said suddenly, whacking Johanna on the back of her head.
“You think I’m the mole?” She turned her head to glare at him. I have been one of the biggest advocates of The Plan from day one. I may not always agree with your methods, but I have always shared your vision.”
“I don’t know…,” Dionysus mused. “You were pretty quick to demand an explanation for my actions.”
“I don’t like being held prisoner…and I don’t like surprises.”
Dionysus considered himself a non-machine version of a lie detector and, in this case, he didn’t sense a falsehood. Maybe she wasn’t his mole.
Andrew’s breathing had become shallow, coming and going in short, ragged intervals. He tried to mimic the supremely-confident Michael’s position and facial expression—hands folded casually, he looked completely relaxed, radiating innocence from his entire being. Probably because he was. Andrew felt a bead of sweat dribble from his hairline to his eyebrow. Thankfully, it was on the side of his face that Dionysus couldn’t see from where he stood.
Dionysus moved on from Johanna. Next to her was Sarah. “Hmmm, I’ve noticed that you always seem to just agree with the popular position, Sarah. That would seem like pretty good cover for a mole, eh? Agree with the majority and then leak our decisions to the enemy, never drawing attention to yourself.”
“If you are looking for me to defend myself, I won’t. I’ve been true to this cause since I was born,” Sarah said.
Again, the lie detector came up empty. Dionysus had truly believed that the mole was likely to be Johanna or Sarah, or maybe both of them, so for a moment he didn’t know how to proceed. Then he remembered the trick up his sleeve: the proof he had asked his technicians to gather; the damning evidence that would smoke out the nasty mole.
“Bring in the report,” he ordered, to no one in particular. Someone was apparently listening and heard him, because the locked door clicked open and a short, bald angel entered the room, squeezing through the circle of hefty guardsmen.
“I have it here, sir,” he said, handing Dionysus a bound sheaf of papers.
“Thank you. That will be all.” As quickly as he had appeared, the bald man exited and the doors were resealed. Sifting the pages of the report through his fingers, Dionysus said, “Over the last week I have had the technicians focused on one task, and one task alone: monitoring any communications in and out of this mountain. While most communications are preauthorized, we have also noticed numerous rogue transmissions. Tracking and pinpointing these transmissions is a difficult business, but our technicians developed an approach that they believe has detected at least 50 percent of these rogue comms. Some they have been able to track to the destination, others from the source, and in a few cases they have even managed to record and transcribe the text.
“In my hands, I have the full report, which I believe will be quite interesting for all of you in this room. This is hot off the press, so even I have not had the pleasure of reading it yet. Let’s open it, shall we?”
If Andrew was scared
before, he was terrified now. He was forced to shove his hands under the table when they began shaking uncontrollably. As his heart raced and the sweat continued to bead on his skin, he desperately tried to think of a way to escape. Fight his way out? With the remainder of the Archangels being loyal to Dionysus, he wouldn’t stand a chance, even if he could break through the guards. Lie his way out? He was barely holding it together and was never a very good liar anyway. The only reason he made it this far was because Dionysus never suspected a thing. Suicide? That was a viable solution. He had his light sword under his robe. At least he could die with dignity, rather than sustaining the torture and mockery that Dionysus would surely pour upon his head. His hands no longer shaking, he fingered the sword under the table.
Dionysus said, “First page: blah, blah, blah, statistics and such, nothing specific enough to condemn anyone. Second page: more of the same, skip. Third page. Ahh, now here’s something interesting: a single call was made at 3:00 this very morning. Who could possibly need to make a call at such an early hour? Let’s read on.”
The handle felt cold to the touch. His sword hadn’t been used in years, as Andrew had lived a double-life within the confines of Mount Olympus. Suddenly, it felt right that he should use it again, after all these years, to take his own life. He was tired of hiding, tired of being scared.