Sheridan nodded at the phone. “Sure. I’ll accept that. But it doesn’t change the circumstances here on the ground. The target is still too heavily guarded and I won’t attempt a strike until the battle has begun.” He could feel the tension rise across the phone. “But you have my word that once the full moon is upon us and the battle has begun…Rufus Thorn is a dead man.”
*****
Jack, Apollo, and Spalding took over the training regimen of the squads while Mark and Adolfo took two work crews out to the dry lake bed. With the POD guns and the peripheral equipment loaded into trucks, they worked with Colonel Mitchell who was in the new OpCom setting up satellite uplink relays to the locations of the POD stations. Diane drove a modified pickup up and down the dry lake bed to act as a targeting aid as each station was set up so that each new station could lock on its computer aided aiming system.
Captain Roberts brought his men who weren’t actually on duty at the time to assist in the setting up of the systems. McDonald, who proved to have the hand-eye coordination of a life-long gamer, was one of the lucky few who past Nicolo’s tests and would get to man the chair of a POD gun.
As they set up one of the PODs on the highest point, McDonald laid claim to that particular station. “You can see forever from this one. I think this one is mine.” He patted the side of the cockpit as they finished running the cabling to the Lithium battery system below.
“Too bad them Italians won’t let us keep ‘em, eh, James? It would be nice to have a system like this to shoo off them UFO nuts, huh?” one of his support crew said.
“Screw the UFO nuts. I’d use this baby for friggin’ coyotes, man.” McDonald smirked. “Or duck hunting. Or rabbits, or…”
“There’d be nothing left,” an IT tech replied as he finished up the systems test.
“So what? The point isn’t to have a trophy. The point is to hit the damned thing!” McDonald laughed.
“Okay, system is ready for testing,” the IT tech said as he slipped out of the chair.
McDonald clapped his hands together and jumped into the POD. “Let’s fire this bastard up and see what kind of damage the real thing does.”
“Negative!” Tufo barked as he came around to the open cockpit door. “This is a system test. No live fire, do you read me. That is the base XO down there in that truck.”
“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. Targeting only,” McDonald said, acting as though his feelings were hurt. “But we are going to test these things before the uglies get here, aren’t we?”
“Eventually, yes. But right now, we’re just setting them up and getting the synchros aligned with the targeting systems,” Mark replied. “Once all four are online, then we’ll input the buffer parameters and…”
“The what?” James asked, honestly dumbfounded.
“The…didn’t you listen during the orientation?” Mark asked, seriously wondering if McDonald was the right man for the job.
“Of course I did, but there was a shitload of information put out.” He strapped into the seat. “And to be honest, the big guy that said it all, he don’t speak good English. He was sort of hard to understand.”
Mark sighed and shook his head. “Once all of these big round things are ready, we have to program them so the guys pulling the trigger don’t accidentally shoot each other.”
At first McDonald was pissed that Mark spoke to him like he was stupid, but then he realized what he was saying and his eyes widened. The idea of one of the other men accidentally shooting him made him realize, these weapons could do a LOT of damage, intentionally or unintentionally. He’d much rather NOT get shot by one. He nodded at Mark. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. Let’s just get the targeting thing set up.”
Mark picked up his radio. “Diane, you’re a go.”
He lifted his binoculars and watched as the pickup took off across the dry lake bed. McDonald used the targeting system to zoom in on her vehicle and the POD instantly spun around, the barrels locking on her moving target. “Gotcha, Sweet Pea,” he whispered. He zoomed in again and her face came into focus on his view screen. “Whoa. I didn’t know it would do that,” he said aloud. He zoomed in again and it closed in on her ear, the camera staying focused on the tiny stud diamond attached to her lobe. As the truck moved up, down, slowed or accelerated, the diamond stayed centered in his view screen. “This is amazing.”
“Okay, Diane, we have it. You’re good,” Mark said into the radio then watched her slow the truck and turn it around.
McDonald keyed the sequence to shut down the POD and stepped out. “I want one!” he said with an ear to ear grin.
“Me too,” Mark agreed. “But they only have six and I think they’d notice if any came up missing.”
McDonald stared at the POD, debating on whether he could swipe one in the heat of the battle. “Don’t even think it,” Nicolo warned, knowing exactly what the man was thinking. “Come. We have three more to synchronize.”
*****
“Sicarii, we are ready. The trucks, they are loaded, and the final cars have been loaded,” the little messenger stated.
“Very well, Puppet. Let us be off. We have a war to wage,” the dark vampire said.
The messenger spoke into a radio and a moment later the train began pulling, rocking the passengers as each car was jerked forward. “Soon master, we shall rain death upon the hunters and there will be nothing left to stand in our way.” A smile crossed his pale face.
The dark vampire laid down in his private car. “I still worry, Puppet.”
“What could possibly worry you, Master? You have thought of everything. You have planted the seeds of fear so deeply into the hearts of the hunters that they have all gathered together in hopes that their combined might…”
“No, Puppet. You forget that the hunters began coming together before Mr. DeGiacomo returned to them,” the dark one said. “No, I fear that I may have missed something.”
“What could you have possibly missed, Master?”
The dark vampire looked at him and shook his head. “If I knew that, Puppet, it would not bother me, now would it?” The dark vampire scraped his hardened nail across the oak countertop shaving thin slivers of wood from it. “No, there are ghosts of dreams that haunt me. Something on the edge of my mind that waits for me to remember. Something that I fear may be important, but I can’t quite identify it yet.”
“I don’t know, Master. I fear it is just nerves.” The little messenger tried to calm his master. “You are finally about to realize your dream of world domination and you are simply nervous, that is all. You were created for this, after all. Now it is your moment to shine and you fear the world stage.”
The dark vampire shot him a flat stare. “Puppet, you are a master of idiocy, did you know that?”
The little messenger paused a moment and stammered, “P-p-please, Master, forgive me. I j-just wanted to relieve your mind, that is all.”
The dark vampire sighed and pushed him away. “Leave me. Perhaps the silence will help my mind to remember what it is that I need to know.”
“Of course, master.” He scraped and bowed before exiting the train car.
The dark one sat in the dimly lit train car, the only sound the noise of the train moving along the tracks. The rhythmic sound reminding him of a heartbeat. A mechanical heartbeat, but a heartbeat nonetheless.
*****
“Colonel, we have reports coming in from spotters,” the technician stated, looking up from his console.
“Report,” Mitchell barked.
The tech handed the hardcopy to the command duty officer. “Houston Port Authority reports a cargo ship arrived early last night. Her captain had rerouted there for mechanical difficulties. Somehow, the entire crew disappeared and every shipping container onboard was empty.”
“Say again, Lieutenant?” Mitchell asked.
“Oh, it gets better, sir,” the junior officer went on, “Countless semis had been jacked in the past week and many of them showed up on Port Authority secu
rity cameras. Not to mention…oh damn…Colonel? They got a train, too.”
“A train?” Mitchell came out of his chair. “Let me see that report.” His eyes scanned the report and his mind raced. He all but fell back into his chair. His mind continued to race as he contemplated the ramifications of the report.
“Lieutenant, find me someone who can calculate the number of bodies, human or vampire, that could be crammed into that many shipping containers. And let’s not forget the bulk cargo hold,” Mitchell ordered.
“Yes, sir.” He turned to find the information.
Mitchell turned back to his techs. “I want a layout of the most direct lines for that stolen train from the Houston Port Authority to here. Then contact every law enforcement agency between here and there…every state law enforcement, every podunk piece of shit town, every major metropolitan city, every township, every burg, anything that has people in it and I want them to SHUT THEM DOWN! Enact martial law if they have to, but get those people INDOORS! Tell ‘em to lock ‘em down if they have to! Get the people off the roads.” He was practically yelling now. The technician barked back a ‘yes sir!’ and turned to track the fastest route for the train.
“Next, I want every highway, byway, country road, anything that runs parallel to that train line cleared of all traffic. If those trucks are loaded with what I think they’re loaded with, we want NOTHING to meet them on the road or to get in their way! I don’t care if we have to get every state police between here and there, clear those goddam roads!”
“Colonel? What’s going on?” Jackson asked as the OpCom began hopping to fulfill his orders.
“They’ve hit American soil. And they’re on their way here,” Matt said. “And these are just the ones we know about. There’s no telling how many are already here and eating their way across the country to us.”
*****
“Very well.” Maxwell finally made a move forward. “The challenge has been accepted.” He stepped between the two men and held his hands outward to keep the two apart. “You are the challenger. You may choose where the challenge is to take place.”
“Right here. Right now.” Viktor’s teeth clenched so tightly that Max feared he might break a few.
Maxwell nodded. “Very well.” He turned to the larger man. “You are the Pack Master. You may choose which form. Human or wolf?”
The larger man looked down at Viktor and shot an evil smile that did not reach his eyes. “Human,” he spat.
“Very well. The challenge has made and accepted. The terms have been made and shall be met. If either party breaks the guidelines, they will be made forfeit and the other shall be named the victor of the match. Do both parties understand the rules as I have explained them?”
Both men nodded. “Good. You shall both have ten minutes to prepare yourself and then we shall meet back here.”
Viktor turned away and began peeling off his shirt when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and met his mother’s gaze. “Things are not what they seem, my son,” she whispered.
“How dare you…”
“Listen to me, or you will not be victorious,” she whispered quickly. “Mario is strong, but he is slow and dim of head.” Her eyes darted over her shoulder then back to him. “Also, he has a weak left knee and a bad right shoulder. He is right handed and will try to fool you into thinking he is not.”
Viktor stared at her, not believing a word. “I do not—”
“I do not care if you trust me now, just believe my words, my son. Once you have beaten him and taken your rightful place, I will explain all to you. Until then, know that I am cheering for you in my heart. Until then, I must keep up appearances.” She turned quickly and left him standing there, unsure what to think.
“What was that all about?” Maxwell asked.
“I’m not sure.” Viktor shrugged.
“What did the she-bitch say?” Max asked. “Did she ask you to rescind your challenge?”
“No,” Viktor replied, still in shock. “She said that Mario is big and dumb and has a weak left knee.”
Max nodded. “Yes, he does. I can see him favoring it as he walks.” He nodded toward the larger man. “He also has a hitch in his shoulder.”
“His right shoulder?” Viktor asked.
“Yeah,” Max said. “See how he keeps jabbing with his left as he warms up? He’s a righty, but he’s trying to loosen up his left arm as if he leads with it. When he does throw his right, he has a hitch in it. I’d bet money he got it dislocated pretty bad…and recently or it would have healed already.”
“Either that or he’s not a natural born wolf?”
“He’d have to be or he couldn’t be Pack Master.”
Viktor stretched and loosened up. “What are the odds, he knows any of the Lycan moves?”
Max studied the larger Mario a moment more. He turned back to his son with a smile. “None.” He patted his son on the back. “Rip his head off.”
“I plan to make him hurt a lot before I do that,” Viktor replied.
As the two men approached each other, Max stood between them. He scratched at his beard and studied his watch. “Are you both prepared?” he asked as a formality. “The decision is final. There can be only one.” He turned to the assembled wolves, many of whom had laid bets on the upcoming battle. “The victor of this battle WILL BE the Pack Master, the new Pack Alpha, your king. Any who would disagree, speak now.”
When nobody spoke, Max raised his hand high in the air…both men watched each other, their eyes glued to each other’s. Max lowered his hand and Mario lunged for Viktor hoping to grapple him to the ground, but Viktor leapt into the air clearing the larger man and watching him go face first into the concrete floor.
As Mario slid across the floor, Viktor spun and jumped to land on his back, but despite Mario’s huge size, he spun and raised his feet, catching Viktor in mid-air and launching him up and over him. Viktor landed on his feet, and Mario rolled to his.
“You move pretty well for a fat boy,” Viktor taunted.
Mario glanced down at his rippling muscles and flexed. “This isn’t fat!” he yelled, but when he looked back up, his jaw was crushed with a right cross that sent his head snapping to the side.
Viktor spun to the opposite side and grabbed Mario’s arm, twisting it into an arm-bar and dropping the man to his knees. He continued to apply pressure until he was sure the man’s arm would break, but Mario spun his body under him and got out of it, pulling Viktor to him and into a bear hug.
As Mario squeezed, trying to crush the air from him, he laughed. “Thought you could better me, little man? You’re just a spoiled elitist.”
Viktor threw his head back, crushing Mario’s nose, then leaned forward and brought his heel down on the cap of his right knee as hard as he could. Mario howled in pain and dropped to his knees, further crushing the kneecap against the cold concrete floor, but his arms refused to let go, or loosen.
Viktor threw his head back again and again, further destroying Mario’s nose, then wiggled down just enough to let loose a barrage of elbows to Mario’s ribs. Viktor felt the ribs on his right side begin to give so he concentrated all he had on his right elbow and continued his onslaught on Mario’s side until the man let him loose and he rolled away gulping down huge gasps of air.
Mario lowered his arm to cover his ribs and could barely stand, but Viktor sucked in air as fast as he could to recover from the lack of oxygen. He was still foggy headed but knew he had to strike while the iron was hot and Mario was injured.
Viktor gauged his distance, jumped through the air and landed a flying kick to Mario’s face that dislocated his jaw and sent numerous teeth flying across the facility’s floor. Mario, still on his knees, refused to go down. He pushed himself up with his hands and stared daggers at Viktor who walked back to him with purpose.
Viktor reached out and grasped a handful of hair with one hand and drew back a loaded fist with the other. “Do you yield?”
“Fugg off, pup,” Mar
io mumbled through his ruined excuse for a mouth.
Viktor brought his fist crashing directly into the center of Mario’s face, flattening his already crushed nose and sending great gushes of blood in all directions. He cocked his hand back again. “Do you yield?” he asked again louder.
Mario tried to spit his blood in Viktor’s face but accomplished only oozing a great blob of it down his chin. “Neber,” he spat out.
Viktor smashed his face in once more, this time feeling the bones crush and grind under his knuckles. “Will you yield?” he asked.
Mario’s body swayed like a rag doll tied to a string. Viktor suspected the only thing holding him up was his grip on the man’s hair. He cocked his fist back once more, ready to strike a final blow but held himself. Viktor studied the ruined face of his opponent before loosening his handful of hair and watched Mario slump into a bloody pile on the floor.
He turned to Max and waited for him to declare him the victor of the match, but he didn’t need to as the room erupted with cheers from the other wolves chanting his name.
18
“A moment of your time, my lord?” Damien asked as Foster lay stretched out in his chambers.
Foster looked at him with a curious eye. “Of course, child. Come closer.” Paul studied him a moment then leaned back again. “You’ve changed, my son.”
Damien didn’t avert his eyes this time. He chose simply to lie. “I’ve matured somewhat since my unfortunate…incident.”
“Ah, yes.” Paul nodded. “You do know that I had your little friend prepared for you, don’t you?” He gestured to the corner where a polished white skull sat upon a bone staff.
Damien approached it tentatively and ran his fingers along the polished bone. It was beautiful and ornate. He turned it in his hand in order to gaze at it. Whoever had finished it had inset red gemstones where the eyes should be. He smiled as he remembered his little Mexican rose. “Thank you,” he said softly.
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