Thor’s eyes darted, but the creature was nowhere in sight; the mass of wolves were making it difficult to concentrate on the monster’s location. He slung the rifle across his back, then thrust his fist into the air. Nwabudike was prepared to retrieve him at a split second’s notice, once he made his move. However, this game was still being played, and Thor would not forfeit so soon.
Thor reached for Alice, inching his right foot over the trigger buried in the dirt. “Else, when I say now, do your dance.”
“You should’ve said that five minutes ago!” Else shouted.
The wolves were nearly on top of Thor; he stepped on the trigger and three rows of steel spikes sprang from the ground, forming a semi-circle around Thor like a medieval pike line. There was hesitation and confusion as the first of the wolves were impaled on the shafts of sharpened steel, screaming and whimpering in pain.
“Now, Else!” Thor shouted.
The men atop the wall began to fire into the mass of snarling animals.
“Concentrate on the ones closest to the pikes!” Thor said as he unloaded Alice into the fray. Fenrir was moving closer, Thor could feel it, but his current predicament made it impossible to tell how close. Goddamned good move, you fucker!
* * *
Else hung back, biting her lip until she thought to draw blood. That fool man was making her old! It was always a game with that one, and to Hell with everyone else, no matter how many gray hairs you give them. She had enough firepower onboard to signal a response from the international space station, let alone turn that fucking, mangy beast to a smoldering heap of ash. She’d been tracking it for miles, and could’ve ended its miserable existence at will.
Now, Thor wanted to play with the thing, like it was as harmless as a stray dog! Sorina, you stupid girl, if you’re not dying your hair, already, you will be soon!
She banked sharply to get a better angle on the beast. Heat signatures dotted the screen as she moved, hundreds… no, thousands of them. Everyone had been too focused on the big one to notice it had friends! Scheiße! Scheiße! Scheiße!
“Thor, get out of there!” she screamed into the microphone. She gritted her teeth, flipped several switches, swung her tail around hard, and went into a backwards dive – a move that was never recommended. She was as hot as the surface of the sun, with that goddamned horde dead in her sights, when Thor said to wait. Wait?! Mikki must have hit him on the head one too many times! She gritted her teeth again, moving for a better angle.
The first of the wolves spitted themselves on the steel pikes – At least, that fucking thing worked right! – as Thor told her to let loose. She flipped another switch and Enter Sandman started playing, loud. Sssshhhh, little ones, Mama’s here to end your pain. She had ended a lot of pain in her lifetime; it was what she was good at.
She used the mini gun to cut through the horde’s middle, the rain of lead devouring everything in her path. The wolves split into two groups, the smaller still focusing on Thor, the men would have to contend with them. She banked hard and fired a volley of missiles into the main group, closing her eyes against the flash as she passed through the fireball.
Shadow Dancer lived up to her deadly reputation, not even the wolves could tell from which direction she was coming, only that she was raining down death with ease. Smooth as silk, silent as a gentle breeze! She banked several more times, keeping a sharp eye out for the monster that brought the poor wolves into this mess. Where are you at, big boy? Mama’s here to help you sleep!
Oh, no! she cursed to herself, seeing flairs shoot skyward from the far end of the keep, set off by tripwires. Explosions from RPGs and bright flashes from gun fire followed soon after. Thor was right; the thing was cunning to a fault.
Moments after she began, Else leveled out, watching what wasn’t dead or dying scatter in every direction. She breathed a sigh of relief. Then she saw It rounding the northeast corner of the wall. One missile left, liebchen, and it’s all yours! Now, come dance with me!
* * *
Thor emptied his third magazine; these wolves were relentless, hundreds of them were blown to pieces, yet they still came for him as if there were nothing else in the world but them and him. The way they clawed over their brothers’ and sisters’ impaled bodies to reach him, it was apparent nothing but the taste of his blood would quench their thirsts.
“I’m bringing you up!” Nwabudike shouted between rifle shots.
“Not yet!” Thor shouted back. He could sense Fenrir coming for him now. The creature was frustrated; its plan had not worked quite as well as it hoped. Now it was time to alter the plan. It was time to face Thor. “Keep them off me!” he said, holstering Alice and drawing the rifle.
“We’re trying!” Nwabudike nearly screamed. It was odd to hear such emotion emit from the man.
Thor aimed the rifle in Fenrir’s direction, he could not see the Goddamned thing, but he did not need to. The beast appeared, bounding over the bodies of the wolves; Thor held his breath as he got it in his sights. He gently squeezed the trigger, but was jerked backward and up as the shot fired. The bolt hit Fenrir’s haunches, ripping a generous portion of flesh free, as it continued its trajectory.
A split second later, Thor was being thrown over the parapet to the whine of steel cable grating against the pulleys. He hit hard against the ancient stones, knocking the air from his lungs as the roar of a missile explosion sounded from where he had just been. He jerked free from the harness, springing to his feet and leaning against a merlon.
The beast was bounding toward the forest – its wounded leg limp and dragging – as Else continued to fire as she chased. The beautiful pike line was a tangle of twisted metal, but it could only be a surprise once, anyway.
Else turned back – with an awful scream of frustration coming through his earpiece – as the creature disappeared into the trees.
“Did we take a hit?” Thor asked into the microphone.
A minute later, Jacques’ voice answered: “Two dead and Terry lost most of his right hand. He said it’s a good thing he’s left handed.” The man meant for it to be funny, but Thor saw no humor in it.
Thor stared out at the smoldering corpses. Else flew overhead, circled twice more, then landed in the courtyard. “Five minutes… it took only five minutes to get two men killed, one crippled, and all this.” He waved a hand toward the scene below.
“More men have died in less time,” Nwabudike said quietly, staring off into the distance. Smoke must have gotten into the Nigerian man’s eyes; they were beginning to tear-up.
Else came rushing up the stone stairs, pushing her way past the men atop the wall. “Are you alright!” she said, patting him down, then hugging him when she found no blood. “I told you to get out of there. That was too close!”
“But you hit it,” Thor said, patting her shoulder.
She released him, giving him a scornful look. “I would have killed it, if you’d gotten out of there sooner!”
“Nwabudike, did you happen to notice which leg was dragging?” Thor asked.
The dark-skinned man nodded. “The one with your bolt in it.”
“Well now, isn’t that interesting,” he said with a smile. He turned his eyes to Nwabudike. “We’re going old school… with a twist, my friend” There was the glitter of understanding in the Nigerian’s eyes, as his lips curled into a smile that would make Hel piss on herself.
In the back of his head, Thor could hear the chess clock ticking. His next move was going to take a while, but that was alright, the game would end up with Fenrir in checkmate!
Chapter 28
All the Wrong Answers
Life was full of unexpected twists and turns; much like the day Steve, Jacques, or whatever the man’s real name was, descended from the sky with fifty killers. Mikki knew all too well; it was the last time she got more than two hours of sleep at a time.
Nwabudike picked Mikki up like a ragdoll, sat her on the back of a wooden cart, daring her with his cold eyes to move. The man
may be Death’s right-hand-man, but no one treats her that way and lives long enough to ponder if he had or had not done the right thing. The few men gathered around chuckled, and before Mikki knew it, the knife was in her hand, ready to give the man the closest shave he ever had.
“If there is no other work for you to do,” Nwabudike said to the men, “I’m sure the animal pens need a thorough cleaning.” It became eerily quiet, and the men crept away, suddenly remembering the things that they should be doing.
Nwabudike stood statue-still, his cold, black, emotionless eyes watching the men trudge off. Then he turned his attention to Mikki. “Put the knife away, child, before one of us gets hurt.”
She twirled it between the fingers of her right hand, then sheathed it behind her back, her eyes remained fixed on the man’s granite features, her blood beginning to boil. First the man man-handles her, then he calls her child! One more insult, and we’ll see if Death’s right-hand-man bleeds!
“Do you really want to help Thor?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling like the sound of distant thunder.
What sort of idiotic question was that? What did the man think she’s been doing for the past nine years? Mikki stared at the man; wondering who was taking souls across the River Styx, since he came onboard Mjölnir?
“Do you really want to help Thor Odinsson?” he repeated.
Mikki gritted her teeth, then sighed. “Yes,” she reluctantly replied.
“Then I have a job for you; one that requires a special talent, such as yours.”
Days later, Mikki eyed the afternoon sun hanging in the sky outside the laundry window with irritation. It would be dark in a few hours; the day’s plan would be shot to hell if she didn’t move fast. Now, if she could just get the laundry-lady, Marlina, to get it in gear, she’d be a happy woman.
“These go to the third floor in the west wing,” Marlina said slowly, handing Mikki a basket filled with clean towels. “Then you should get some supper, you’ve been working very hard.” The gray-haired woman seemed to be fighting the urge to pat Mikki on top of her head.
Mikki chuckled inside. Normally she’d been pissed the old woman assumed she barely had the brain function of a young child, but it was working in her favor… like always. The great part of being considered a banjo-playing retard; you were easily overlooked, and never thought of as any real threat.
“I think I can manage that, Sugah,” Mikki said with a big smile. She left the laundry, grateful to be away from the smells of strong soap and bleach. She hoped the damage being done to her sinuses and brain cells weren’t permanent; she hated the thought of ending up like Marlina.
She wound her way through the halls, moving this way and that, mentally keeping notes of which rooms had been check already. The towels were a great cover, no one gave her a second glance; except the two pigs wondering whether or not she was any good in bed. She was fantastic, with enough energy to power the west coast for a week and the zeal of a pack of hyenas on a crippled zebra, not that either of those idiots stood a chance in hell of finding out!
She made her way to the east wing, climbed to the top of the stairs and down to the end of the hall. She knocked on the last door on the right, her eyes peering down the hall. When there was no answer, she entered, closing the door quickly behind her.
In a heartbeat, the basket was on the floor and she began searching the room. She hadn’t a clue what she was searching for, only that she would know when she found it. At least that’s what she kept telling herself; for all she knew she’d had in her hands already… twice.
This room was being shared by two of the newcomers, and was exactly the same as the others she had searched. There were no passports, no personal items; two spare uniforms for each man were folded neatly in the drawers, socks and underwear. There were two tooth brushes in the bathroom, two hair brushes, a tube of toothpaste, a bar of soap. Clean towels were folded neatly on top of a shelf; dirty towels were in the basket by the sink, folded. There was nothing out of place. Both beds had been made, and the bathroom had been wiped down after the last man cleaned himself.
They may be a bunch of unnerving, anal-retentive sons-of-bitches, but they did make her job easier. Any one of them would make a great husband… if it wasn’t for that untrustworthy gun-for-hire thing. Mikki had given the room a thorough check in minutes, and was ready to move on.
Basket in hand, she slipped from the room, crossed the hall, and knocked on the door. There was no answer, and she closed the door behind her.
This room was much the same as the rest. The only difference; it was shared by a man and one of the three women of Jacques’s crew, an interesting arrangement. Mikki wondered if their commanding officer knew they were having sex; it was difficult to hide the fact that only one bed was being slept in, no matter how well they had been made. Other than that tidbit of information, the occupants of this room were cleared.
The process continued until the last of the rooms on this floor had been checked. Then she moved down to the third level, the second; keeping the pattern random, just as she had for the past few days. She tried her best to make up for the time Marlina cost her, but she was still irritated at the thought of how far along she’d be if only the old woman ran her mouth a little less. Honestly, the woman shared every aspect of her long and boring life, as if she were on a talk-show interview.
Women began to turn lights on all over the castle as the gray of twilight descended. This is where it was going to get interesting; twice before , she’d been nearly caught during shift change. Mikki dropped the basket off into the linen closest she discovered yesterday afternoon, and slipped down to the servant’s quarters; they were far less suspicious than Jacques’ men, and more apt to believe she’d gotten turned around during her chores. Gullible idiots!
She got caught exiting one of the rooms last night. Fortunately, the woman believed Mikki when she said she was looking for a bathroom. Having her hand taken like a child, then led to a bathroom was humiliating, though, despite being completely hilarious.
This hall was empty; everyone was either eating or bringing food to those that were. She knew she’d get the chance at going through two rooms at the most; time was growing short, and these quarters took forever to check efficiently. Things are much different when you’re living in one place for any length of time; she’d probably be amazed at the amount of useless shit she’d find in her own room.
Mikki picked out a door she had not been through yet and knocked.
The small room was tidy enough, but well lived-in. There were pictures on the walls and dresser next to a few small trinkets. The single bed was made, but nowhere as neatly as Thor’s private army made theirs. The drawers and wardrobe were filled with worn clothes. There was a pair of boots under the bed, snuggled up next to a shoe box filled with ammunition. That was no surprise; there wasn’t a room in the place that didn’t have a box here and there. It was evident from the condition of the bathroom, beyond the raised toilet seat, these were a man’s quarters; women, for the most part were cleaner.
Though, I’ve known a few pig-fuckers in my day!
Mikki was ready to call this room done, until she noticed something strange about the mirror over the sink. She leaned close, breathed heavy on the glass, and confirmed her suspicion. There were multiple sets of thumbprints on either side of the mirror.
She eased the mirror from the wall, then smiled. Nestled within a small hole cut into the wall, was a satellite phone. Mikki had found what she had been searching for.
She took the phone from the hole and returned the mirror to its hook. She stood with her back against the wall next to the door, examining the phone. It was expensive, insanely so compared to other models, and prepaid; with a thousand minutes of service left. The single number in the call history had a Berlin calling code, but that was probably useless information. The number most likely belonged to another prepaid phone, making it untraceable. It would have GPS, though! We could see if Jacques has some friends in the a
rea.
Mikki slipped the phone into her back pocket as the sound of voices grew louder in the hall. She turned off the light, positioning herself next to the door, unsure of her next move. There were only so many times she could get lost on the way to the bathroom.
A moment later, the door swung open, the light came on, and the door closed. The young man nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Mikki’s smiling face.
“Hi!” she said, her fist slamming into his throat.
The thin-framed man fell to his knees, his hands clutching desperately at his throat as he gasped for breath.
Mikki locked the door. “Hold still!” she said, kneeling in front of him, her hands patting his shoulders. She was going to have to move fast if she was going to get any answers. The last thing she needed was this idiot passing out from lack of oxygen before she had the chance to learn anything. “I can fix that. First, you have to answer a couple questions.”
The man appeared terrified, trying to force more than the trickle of air Mikki’s punch to his larynx was allowing. He nodded frantically.
“If you lie to me, Sugah, you’ll die a slow, agonizing death. Understand?”
The man nodded.
She knelt down in front of him, looking into his panic-riddled eyes. “Do you know who gave the phone to you?”
He shook his head.
“Were you paid to spy on Selucca Lazarovici?”
The man nodded, his wheezing beginning to worsen.
“Were you spying on Sorina?”
He shook his head.
“Were you supposed to report Thor Odinsson’s arrival, and spy on him?”
The man paused, his eyes averting her gaze. Then he nodded.
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