The Jewel of Babylon (The Unusual Operations Division Book 1)

Home > Other > The Jewel of Babylon (The Unusual Operations Division Book 1) > Page 1
The Jewel of Babylon (The Unusual Operations Division Book 1) Page 1

by Jacob Hammes




  The Jewel of Babylon

  Book 1 of the Unusual Operations Division Series

  Jacob Ryan Hammes

  Copyright © 2013 Jacob Ryan Hammes

  Edited by Todd Barselow

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN: 1496155173

  ISBN 13: 978-1496155177

  Dedication

  It would be wrong of me to say that this book is dedicated to one person alone. The truth is quite the opposite. I wrote this book to fulfill my lifelong dream of becoming an author. I wrote it so that people might enjoy something that is new. In fact, I want to keep writing so that I can contribute to an art that has given me so much enjoyment in hopes of bringing others the same. So, I dedicate this book to everyone who loves to read.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to my mother and father, I was able to broaden my horizons past the norms of an everyday job and write this book. Besides them, there are far too many people to thank, because everyone I’ve ever daydreamed out loud with has heard about me and my desire to write. Every single one of them has given me the same ‘go get-em’ response. Thanks to my wife for pushing me along. Thanks especially to Todd Barselow, my editor. He works magic from a faraway land.

  Chapter 1

  The fact that this could really be the end was finally starting to sink in for Marcus. Just minutes ago he had watched as the man behind it all stalked back and forth in front of his captives like a restless lion keeping watch. Then, just like that, the man with those black, lifeless eyes leveled his pistol at one of Marcus’ best friends and fired a single shot. It tore through his stomach before impaling itself into the rock wall behind. The mastermind of the situation had obviously gone completely insane; a fire like nothing Marcus had ever seen was burning deep within his black eyes. Now, tied naked to a pole, Marcus was being forced to watch as the end of the world was being set in motion. If there were something he could do, he would have done it long ago. Unfortunately, any chance of making a difference in this situation might as well be a million miles away.

  The entire ordeal was different than anyone could have ever expected. The agency Marcus and his teammates worked for had been after the man responsible for all of this mayhem for days now. None of them had the slightest idea how powerful the sphere of gold had been. Now it seemed as if everyone in the agency knew everything there was to know about the orb; the Jewel of Babylon. The strange object was being used in a ritual Marcus thought just might be the end to everything he had ever known. He tried to wrap his mind around every aspect of his current predicament and figure out where he had gone wrong.

  Briefly, he wondered if anyone had ever thought the world would end this way.

  Every muscle in his body was taut and shook with anger. Through the red tint of some ethereal boundary before him and the haze that accompanies severe frustration, Marcus watched a blurry figure. Slow swings of a hammer sent chilling bell-like chimes through the damp, cold, cavern. It was all so surreal. How slowly he pulled his arm back and quickly it descended seemed otherworldly. Each clank of metal on metal caused Marcus to gnash his teeth. Each trickle of sweat bounced from his sinewy body. Every clank brought them one step closer to death. One way or another, Marcus had resigned himself to the fact that he would die tonight.

  Like some corny horror movie, he watched through delusional hatred and red tinted vision as the shadow-wrapped man pounded away. His wrists bled behind him as he continued to struggle to get free. The only light shining into the cavern from a lightning filled, rainy sky cast the man’s silhouette in a silver lining. Because Marcus had lived his life in the hopes of stopping this from happening, and because he had seen so many inexplicable things, he could not help but appreciate the circumstances of his death. Though he hated to admit it, it was beautiful.

  “It’s all so ironic,” Marcus thought. Something so small and so beautiful would be the end of the world. It was just a sphere of gold about the size of a softball, decorated with scrolling letters and the few remaining jewels that glistened in their facets. The resources used to make this thing must have been mined thousands of years ago. The language was lost to all but a handful of scholars throughout the civilized world. Sadly, the man pounding away at it had no intention of keeping it in good condition. He was one of the few people who knew the meaning of the writing, if only subconsciously.

  The ground beneath Marcus shook violently making him stumble against his straining bonds. The only reason he didn’t fall was because of the pole keeping him firmly in place. He could not tell whether or not the man who had been shot behind him was dead or alive, no matter how hard he strained his neck. Another one of his team was wounded and screaming just outside that strange red tint blurring his vision. She might as well be yelling at him from behind bullet proof glass; he couldn’t hear anything she said.

  As it turned out, Marcus was having a bad day.

  The floor of the cave shook again, more violently this time, as the man’s hammer once again descended upon the orb. Earthquakes in Georgia meant there must have been something behind this.

  “God damn it all to hell,” Marcus thought, futilely straining again against his bond. What should he do? How could he stop this madness? Then again, how did they end up in such a situation in the first place? Just a short while ago, the team of Unusual Operations Division agents were chasing the man with the hammer. Just like that, the man they were chasing had captured them and was now using them as pawns in some frighteningly real ritual. Marcus knew he should have shot him on sight. It was unfortunate that it was in his nature, the nature of the entire team, to help people when possible.

  The light was suddenly brighter beyond the shadow, pulsing with some inexplicable power from some unknown source. It was as if the sun had started throbbing with the pounding of the man’s hammer. Each resounding thump resulted in an exponentially greater reaction from the light beyond him. The shaking of the earth was also becoming more and more violent. The end was rapidly approaching.

  How the hell did Marcus end up in this predicament? His clothes had been burned, his hands tied around behind him, blood leaked from his lips. Now, the end of the world was coming. It started a while back, at the beginning of this very unusual and extremely dangerous case. Its origins may have been unlikely, but Marcus was probably just as bloody, and sweaty, and shaky as he was now. He just wasn’t angry about it.

  The Jewel of Babylon

  “Jesus, woman!” cried Marcus. “I’m not a goddamn scratch post!” His back burned with fresh fingernail marks from shoulder to ass. His lip was bleeding from a very playful nibble gone too far and parts of his sc
alp were on fire from having hair ripped out by its roots. He could tell that showering would be a painful ordeal for at least the next week. That was not including the fact that Marcus worked out every day; working up a sweat would be doubly painful.

  Julie laughed, jumped back on top of him and gave another love nibble to the left side of his chest. He groaned in pain. Marcus’ life was surrounded by pain. Everything from work to women hurt. He had long ago accepted the fact that nothing he did would be pleasant. He stifled a smile.

  “Women I like are never nice,” Marcus thought.

  The night had been one for the record books. Beer and wine at a local restaurant eventually led to dancing. It was a Friday night turned Saturday morning in Washington, D.C., and Marcus was just warming up. His beautiful accomplice for the evening was none other than Julie Townsend, the most amazing woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Her blonde hair and beautiful green eyes could be compared to only the finest supermodels. As if her stunning physique and cunning intellect were not enough, the woman owned a very reputable downtown law office. Add beauty, grace, and copious amounts of money along with a keen ability to rip her lover to shreds and you had Julie in a nutshell.

  Like a bleeding banshee in the night, a piercing sound broke the darkness with its horrible ringing. A buzzing like angry wasps was next and a small light shone through the pitch black. It was Marcus’ cell phone. It was simultaneously the bane of fun and the start of something extraordinary, but he was always happy to hear from work.

  Marcus had an incurable itch for electronics and the software that accompanied them. He had the best phone and computer available, and with two words proved that he had the newest and best integration system between computer and home security system.

  “Lights, on.”

  The lights complied quietly, casting a new, dull light about the room of his apartment. A red dress mingled with a tie, a black shirt, thong, boxer briefs…last night’s apparel in a pile on the floor. The room was decorated tastefully. A low bed of dark, teak wood, matching dark dresser, gray-silver matte finish paint; Marcus was definitely a man of refined taste. There was also a giant 52 inch feather light television hanging from the wall adjacent the bed along with yet another integrated software program connecting him to his computer via television.

  “Oh, screw you,” Julie said, obviously jaded. “Lights, off.”

  Nothing happened. Thank God for voice recognition software. Julie stared at the roof, trying her hardest to look upset. The resulting look was something much sexier than she had anticipated, though. Her pouty lip could hardly hold back the smile that dwelt beneath. Still, Marcus had a feeling he would be paying for this sooner or later.

  “Hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned,” Marcus thought to himself. He would pay.

  “Sorry, baby,” Marcus said, rising buck naked from the bed so he could get some distance between himself and the groping woman. It was like being near a lion’s cage when Julie was over. Her hands could find purchase on his body with those long velvet nails no matter what he wore—even if he was wearing nothing.

  “You know I’m an important man,” he said, throwing the minx a wink.

  Julie blew a lock of golden hair from her face. Her full lips pouted pitifully.

  “Very grumpy”, Marcus thought. He felt bad, surely, just not too bad. Marcus’ job was everything to him, paramount in every situation. Nothing had ever meant so much in his life except for one person, and she had died. To Julie, it was a mere inconvenience.

  “Agent Marcus here,” he answered the phone. Julie admired his naked figure, taking it in shamelessly. He danced from foot to foot in the cold air of the room, waiting to get back in bed with Julie and finish what he had started. Sinewy muscles showed through his taut skin as he bounced.

  From waist to foot and all along his back, Marcus was nearly one solid tattoo. He loved his body art, especially how well his tattoos of mystic meaning stayed hidden. They were a type of old tradition and embarrassing in the wrong light, which is why Marcus left the art to his legs and back. A fine physique displayed them on wonderful canvas, stretched always over hard muscles. He was not a big man, but his lean physique belied a hidden strength. Dark hair hung nearly to his smiling brown eyes. Thin lips on a strong jaw gave him the look of a model, not an operative for some secret government agency, and a bold button nose heightened the effect.

  Just above his heart was a pickled, round scar; a reminder of better days.

  “Special Agent Marcus,” the voice on the other side said. “This is Mitchell. How fast can you be here?”

  Work; relentless, ruthless, completely inconvenient and endlessly invigorating.

  “Can I bring a friend today?” Marcus Joked. “She will brighten the mood, I assure you.”

  “You’re not decent?” Mitchell’s deep baritone voice questioned.

  Marcus inserted his own pause so Mitchell could figure the question out on his own.

  “One hour, chap,” Marcus was sure the man would get the hint. “Give me an hour and I’ll be there. I shouldn’t need much more than that to wash away last night’s sins.”

  “You’re not decent,” Mitchell reassured himself. “An hour should cause no harm. Be sure and bring your overnight bag and wash thoroughly. Don’t want to get sand mixed in with whatever’s between your legs; you might make cement.”

  Marcus laughed, ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed near his naked beauty. She was miraculous in every way, save patience. Her tousled blond hair fell lightly on the satin pillowcase, but her eyes did little to hide the nagging frustration. The fiery temper she held inside was better kept for cases at work, not for her lovers. Julie knew from the beginning of their relationship these nights would come. Marcus had been sure to warn her about that.

  Still, simply knowing something was going to happen provided little consolation for when that something actually did occur.

  “It’s cold and it’s raining, Marcus,” Julie said. “I’m sure you want me to leave when you do, in the middle of the night?”

  “Well, technically it’s morning,” he answered, making his way toward the bathroom. It was just as high tech as the rest of the apartment and the lights flickered on as he entered. The bathroom was large and white tiled floors made the room astoundingly bright. Marcus used a dimmer switch hidden in the mirror to remedy that problem. There were small televisions hidden behind the mirrors as well; one over each of the bathroom sinks. Marcus used the touch-screen display to bring up last night’s scores as well as a recap of everything he had missed. His teams lost.

  The water in the frosted glass shower stall was running before Marcus got in. The glass was clear from shoulder up, letting Marcus catch up on last night’s events. It was one of those showers with an oversized, brushed steel head directly above the drain in the middle of the stall. The water poured down through pressurized nozzles giving him the best shower he had ever had, every time he used the damned thing. Miracles of modern science had nothing on a good hot shower.

  Julie plodded in after him, still obviously upset, and planted her naked self on the counter in front of the sprawling mirror. So much for seeing who won last night’s sporting events. Still, the view was pretty astounding. Her perfectly sculpted figure was something to look at. Marcus wondered if that was what a five-mile run per day would give every woman.

  “I love that you have a mysterious job, you know,” she said. She always pried at him, trying to get little bits of information out about what exactly his work entailed. The scorn in her voice was obvious; biting words were still threatening to slash from her tongue. The fact that she could hold back at all made Marcus enjoy the woman’s presence even more.

  “Yep, I love it, too. Having to get out of bed at the height of my night and leave a naked woman is something I’ve always dreamed of. It hurts even more leaving a woman as amazing as you.”

  She twirled a blond lock of hair through her fingers. It made her grin, knowing he didn’t enjoy the
situation either. The compliment was just icing on the cake.

  “You will be back today?” she asked, genuinely hoping to see him again.

  “I can’t say. My boss seems pretty adamant I get there as soon as possible. This might be an overnight job. I’ll let you know as soon as I can, okay?” He cleared his throat and put a thick British accent on. “Once I ascertain the information you require, however, I will not hesitate to inform you.” He was trying to hurry, and Marcus knew that Julie would do anything she could to stall him. Though the time was just past two in the morning, he would still be rushing to get to the office in one hour. Downtown traffic would be mostly dead on a Friday night/Saturday morning but it was raining and he had this woman to deal with.

  “So you just want me to wait around for a phone call is all?” she said through pouty lips. “Maybe I won’t wait. If I were any other woman, I’d leave and find someone else. Is that what you want from me, Marcus? Do you want me to leave you?”

  “I want you to understand, sweet stuff,” he answered. “What I need from you, however, is to get dressed. I’ve got twenty minutes to get out of here and I know you’re going to have a challenge on your hands finding all of your clothes. I think I saw a bra enjoying a flight from my fan.”

  She feigned anger this time, bouncing down off the counter and walked nimbly over the tile floor. Julie had a gift. She walked like a model on the catwalk everywhere she went. Marcus afforded himself a second just to stare at the woman as she left the room. The butt that woman owned could bring in millions. It was anyone’s guess why she decided to become a lawyer instead of a model.

  Phobos and Deimos, the Greek gods of fear and terror faced each other from each calf of Marcus’ legs. Their chained depiction showed graphically how the two were bound to face one another but never allowed to leave their prison. He dried each leg, up past the Greek gods, past the Latin writing found above Dante’s gates of hell, and past the scrawling rectangle of a French spell of protection. The cool tiles on his feet made him rush to dry off.

 

‹ Prev