The Artifact: Natasha Burrows Series Book One

by Phillips, Michelle

  “What about the two that brought it in, do they know anything about it?”

  “Civilians Sir… I mean Supreme Father. They said they got it to work to heal, but they don’t know how.”

  The old man’s eyes gleamed like a hawk sizing up its prey. “I want everyone on it. Dig back through the Cannon’s and find out how this thing works. If those uneducated fools can get it to work, so can we.”

  “Yes, Brother Supreme.” He bowed his head again nervously. The old man smelt of cigar and mothballs and Brother Gabrielle subconsciously brought his hand to his nose. The Supreme Father’s clawed hand tightened over his cane.

  “I won’t accept failure this time.”Of that Brother Gabriel was sure.

  “What about those two, the two that brought it in?”

  The Supreme Father’s eyes were hooded like a hawk, with stray elongated eyebrow hairs sticking out in odd directions like a feather duster that had been chewed by a dog.

  “They are being taken care of” he answered. “We will call in Guillermo.”

  “Guillermo” Brother Gabriel gasped.

  “He’s blunt but effective.” Brother Gabriel had heard his name mentioned before. He was a top-level field operative. Unlike him he got to travel the world on secret missions for The Brotherhood.

  The redhead looked a bit skittish and The Supreme Father regarded him with consternation.

  “I thought you redheads were supposed to have a bit more fire in you, a bit more nounce” he commented, slapping Brother Gabriel hard across his back with his cane. Gabriel winced and lurched a little. “Never mind” The Supreme glowered. “You just do your job and work this thing out, whatever it takes.” The old man was salivating at the prospect of eternal life like a rabid dog.

  The Supreme made his way slowly back to the elevator his assistant scurrying behind him like a timid mouse. He eyed the Staff of Moses warily.

  “What the hell is that thing doing out for?” he barked.

  “The brothers wanted to do some more testing on it.” Brother Gabriel answered literally cowering.

  “Whatever for? Tell them to get that blasted thing back in the safe and concentrate on the orb.” Brother Gabriel nodded.

  Brother Gabriel, once excited when he first saw the orb, ecstatic with the prospect of presenting it to the Fathers, was now nervous. The Father Supreme was a man of determinedly nefarious ways, and he had just placed himself forefront in the firing line if failure were to ensue. He had to get the orb to work, his life now depended on it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Brotherhood

  Natasha and Xavier walked slowly back to the hotel, reflecting on their encounter with The Brotherhood.

  “Got a bit hairy back then when he pulled that gun on you.” Xavier pulled her close to him planting a kiss on the top of her head. “I couldn’t stand it if he even harmed a hair on your head.”

  “It's still all a little surreal” she said gazing off into the distance. They arrived at the hotel and were greeted by the same attendant as the day before. This time he appraised them with approving eyes.

  “Can we cancel the second room?” Xavier leaned on the counter winking at Tasha as he asked.

  “Yes Sir, indeed you can.”

  They walked together back to their now shared room, “what do you say to room service?” asked Xavier with a twinkle in his eye.

  She giggled “I think I would enjoy another Italian lesson.”

  “Oh no, not tonight. Tonight, you be the teacher and I will be the student” he gathered her in his arms and threw her on the bed.

  “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  They awoke in the morning, tangled up in sweat laden sheets, sated from the multiple times they had made love the night before, the smell of lust and last night’s dinner lingering in the air. Xavier had started by pulling her pants down and gently placing his head between her legs. His tongue had explored her fully, whilst she guided him on the finer points of stimulation, she groaned and writhed as he brought her to climax with his tongue, his fingers moving inside her sending chills of electricity down her spine.

  Pleased with himself, he had then mounted her, flipping her over and forcing her legs apart, her nether regions already wet and pulsing, he slid inside easily and rode her like a cowboy, watching as his manhood covered with creamy lust impaled her over and over.

  She bucked against him, and he grabbed her ponytail and pulled it up, yanking at her hair like a horse's reins. “Steady on girl” he whispered in her ear “I’m in control now.” He grunted with lust as he felt himself engorge to the point of blessed release, spasms of joy and pleasure radiating through his body in waves, exultant he held himself in her firmly as the pleasure slowly ebbed, the engorgement subsided and the heavenly throbbing passed. He flipped her over, promising her that there was more to come, and he was a man of his word.

  “Ouch” she groaned “I don’t think I can walk again.”

  “Then my work here is complete” he laughed, kissing her gently on the lips, his finger brushing her cheek. “Look, I don’t mean to sound crass and I should have asked before, I just got a bit ahead of myself, but with all this glorious love making, are you on the pill?”

  She smiled reassuringly, “Yes, there’s no need to worry. But we have to get up now, and go back… there,” she said.

  He nodded “I know, but I wish you would reconsider.”

  She sat up quickly turning her back to him “I can’t.” He could hear the sadness in her voice. “What’s done is done, and now we, I need to finish it.”

  “You’re not alone,” Xavier assured her. “I’m here with you.”

  “I know” she said turning to him, “but you don’t have to you know, not because of me.”

  “Listen to you. A week ago you were running from danger, too scared to even set foot on a plane, or venture into the jungle. Now you are just asking for trouble.”

  “All of my… for lack of a better word, hangups that I had, I realise they now came from my mother. She was scared of losing me, like she did father, and I understand that. She was overprotective, needy, sheltering. But I’m my father's daughter also, and he was The Brotherhood, and so was my Uncle. My Uncle thought I could handle this, that it was time, and I.. I want to see it through. Instead of sitting and reading about it, I want to be a part of it, of something bigger. I hope you understand.”

  Xavier nodded “I do. Remember I have been out in search of something as well. I think I have finally found it too.” Tasha blushed and turned her head away from him quickly. “Hey, hey, what’s that all about?” he asked softly.

  “I.. I like you too” she replied “maybe after all this is done, we can, I don’t know…”

  “See each other?” Xavier finished. “I would really like that as well.” He reached out and clasped her hand in his.

  “Ok” she said interrupting the moment between them. “Let’s get going.” They returned to the archives, it all still seemed surreal, it was hard to believe that they were just there yesterday, and now they were returning for a second time, Tasha was glad that at least they knew what to expect this time.

  Brother Barnabas greeted them with a smile. “Welcome back,” he extended his hand to lead them forward.

  “Thankyou” Tasha replied gratefully, glad he wasn’t pointing a gun at her this time. They entered the elevator and he took them back down into the bunkers to the secret level guarded by The Brotherhood.

  Brother Gabriel greeted them, and Tasha couldn’t help noticing he looked a little different to yesterday, like his excitement had waned a little and had been replaced by something else, a nervousness perhaps.

  “Voila!” He presented them with perfectly spherical golden orb, exactly the same as the one they had given him. She held it in her hand, it was perfectly formed, the only difference she could tell was the weight, it was heavier than the original. “I also want you to meet someone” he added.

  A tall, well-built swarthy man came strolli
ng casually out from amongst the overladen shelving. He looked very casual in jeans and a white V-neck T-shirt, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a toothpick in his mouth. He was the epitome of cool, and yet there appeared to be something very dangerous about him.

  He took his hand out of his pocket and lifted the small fedora he had on his head in manner of a greeting. His eyes were quick, taking in them both at the speed of lighting, shifting this way and that never seeming to land on a fixed location. Tasha noticed he had a scar, one which had come dangerously close to his left eye, and on his finger he wore a ring, the same as her uncles. Guillermo noticed her immediately, he had in fact noticed her since she first entered the room, she had an intoxicating scent about her that he could not pin down.

  “This is Guillermo, I have told him all about you” said Brother Gabriel. Guillermo nodded looking at each of them directly. “He will be your personal security.”

  Xavier looked at him a little skeptically “Just him?” Guillermo sneered, the kind of smile you would expect to see on a hyena about to consume a donkey.

  “Oh, he’s our best field agent, you will be quite safe Guillermo, quite safe” Brother Gabrielle repeated himself a little nervously.

  “This is coming from the monk who sent a geriatric into the Amazon?” Xavier pointed out sarcastically.

  “Oh no, no” Brother Gabriel was flustered now “that wasn’t my decision. Eugene had been tracking the Orb for years, on and off, wild horses could not have stopped him from going.”

  “Xavier's right” Tasha felt her face starting to flush and tears welling in her eyes, “he never should have been out there, you should have sent someone like Guillermo in the first place.” Guillermo stared at her, slightly distracted, she somehow smelt intoxicating to him.

  “Eugene would never have stopped looking for the orb. It was his lifelong mission, you understand? He didn’t trust anyone with it's possible location, that is except for you.” As much as she hated to admit it, Brother Gabriel was right, and she knew it. He was an obstinate old man at the best of times.

  “Ok, so what's the plan then?” she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes. Brother Gabriel looked relieved, glad that any conflict had been averted, he had a personal penchant for avoidance, particularly when it came to confrontation of any sort.

  “We received correspondence from your Uncle, he said that he felt that he was being followed?” Guillermo spoke for the first time. His English was perfect, no trace of an accent whatsoever.

  “Yes, that’s right, we also had some men following us in Caracas” Tasha said.

  “Great. Then its simple. We just have to leave some breadcrumbs for them to find, to lead them to you here. They would probably figure it out sooner or later, we just need to make it sooner.”

  “Great” repeated Xavier with a resounding lack of confidence. He saw the way Guillermo was looking at Natasha and he didn’t like it. Guillermo gazed at him with a look that would melt stone.

  “Are we going to have a problem?” he directed the question squarely at Xavier.

  Tasha could see Xavier's fists starting to clench “Not if you're as good as they say you are.” Secretly Xavier was jealous of the way he seemed to show attention to Natasha, the way his eyes stopped and fixed on her. He knew he wasn’t exactly the most objective person to ask on the matter, but he was pretty sure anyone else would back him up, it wasn’t a normal look, it was frankly creepy.

  “Would you care to find out.” It was a thinly veiled threat, delivered in a fluidly silken tone devoid of emotion.

  Infuriated Xavier lifted his fist to punch him fair in the mouth. Slicker than a snake and faster than a flash of greased lightning, Guillermo lazily lifted his arm, like he was playing the scene out in slow motion and deflected the blow with his forearm, at the same time grabbing his wrist and twisting it, forcing him to he ground on one knee. In one deft move he stepped forward, flipping his arm, swinging it behind his back and pulling it hard, forcing it almost upright behind his back, twisting it all the while and forcing his head down to the ground.

  Xavier kneeled wincing, resisting, with his face almost pressed against the marbled floor, dirt and dust tickling at his nose. Now standing behind Xavier, Guillermo stepped forward with his other foot, placing it firmly on Xavier's free hand, which he was using to try to keep himself from completely kissing the floor. Xavier made stifling cry as his fingers make a cracking noise, and his head finally lowered completely, his cheek connecting fully with the cold hard floor.

  Guillermo casually leant down whispering in his upturned ear. “Got yourself emotionally involved didn’t you?” he had a look of disdain on his face, one that indicated an abhorrence of weakness, a disgust for the vagaries of human emotion. “You’re emotional, your judgement is clouded.”

  “Please” begged Tasha. “Let him go.”

  “Heh” Guillermo released him allowing his arm to drop and stepped back “don’t worry, I didn’t harm your boyfriend, permanently that is.” He eyed her again, wondering what it was about this woman that was so attractive to him. He pushed the thoughts back, attraction, emotions, they were for rookies.

  Xavier stood up slowly, brushing the dirt from his clothes. “Are you alright?” Tasha asked concerned. It was the first time she had ever seen Xavier bested.

  “I’m fine” he grumbled, his pride hurt more than anything else.

  “Emotions, they make you weak” Guillermo said matter of factly.

  Xavier looked like he was about ready to have another go at him, but Tasha gently wrapped her arm through his.

  “What do you want us to do?” he asked Guillermo through clenched teeth.

  “Just go back to your hotel, act normal, eat, see the sights and wait. I will do the rest.”

  “Ok, sounds easy” Tasha. In reality she had found things had been anything but, however she was willing to buy into the fairytale he was peddling.

  “You’d better hope it's that simple” Xavier growled at him. “I don’t care what kind of training you have had, if anything happens to her…”

  “You have my word nothing will happen to her… or to you either.” His steely gaze closed on them like an iron trap.

  Guillermo had not patience for fools. He was highly trained, once special ops, he had been recruited to The Brotherhood several years ago, and frankly he knew his stuff. He lived for his work and practically did nothing else. Needless to say, the details of his recruitment were classified, occasionally after a few drinks, he wished he could tell someone because it made a hell of a tale. He often found himself muttering at horror movies, because they always got it all wrong.

  He was with his unit the Maroon Berets in Istanbul, they were doing some reconnaissance work on what was believed to be a cell of Kurdish militants in the mountainous region of Marmara bordered by Greece and the Aegean Sea to the west and Bulgaria and the Black Sea to the North. The Yildiz Mountains were snowy that time of year, the branches of its trees groaning under loads of cold white powder, and he remembered he almost froze to death at one point. He looked down at his pinky finger, a constant reminder of that night, when he had lost the tip of it to frostbite.

  The cell they were tracking were vicious, they had ravaged several villages, mutilating and killing anyone in sight, women, children it didn’t matter to them, they had no dignity. They attacked under the cover of night, swiftly and silently, and by morning not a trace was left. Not even a trail that could easily be followed.

  Unbeknownst to him, they were actually tracking a pack of werewolves. He remembered glancing at the moon that fateful night, remarking on how shiny, white and bright it appeared in the rarefied cool crisp air against the mountainscape. The innocence of that moon betrayed them all, and a pack of hungry werewolves descended on them, rabidly ravenous for human flesh.

  First, they fired at them, their automatic machine guns popping, short staccato notes in the night that would have taken down a normal wolf. But theses wolves kept coming. Larger, stronge
r, sinewy, defiant to the muzzle flashes, elongated teeth bared. Guillermo grabbed his sword, and old Ottoman Turkish Military Sword, handed down in his family from generations of military men, one he carried for luck whilst those around him joked and mocked. He prayed for inspiration and that the blade would remain true.

  That night, the sword saved his life. With one broad stroke he decapitated a wolf mid lunge, heading directly for his jugular. The head rolled off, and he noticed the blood was dark and viscous, staining the snow like liquid black ink. The second time he wasn’t so lucky, and the wolf took a swipe at him, almost removing his eye. He repaid the favour by plunging the sword deep in his chest and through his heart. With a grunt he thrust the sword through, forcing the wolf to the ground, where he quickly removed the blade and decapitated the writhing form, just for good measure, arterial blood spurting out across the crisp white snow.

  He could hear the screams of his men around him, but was helpless to come to their aid. In the end it was him and three wolves. They had him surrounded and he was sure that his end had come. He pulled a smaller tactical knife from his boot and stood steadfast, eyeing the leader, oblivious to the warm blood running into his eye, letting the Alpha know the fight would be a real one. Swinging his blade, he made the first attack.

  The blade landed heavily on the wolves head, splitting the skin and causing it to wail. Behind him another leapt and he twisted around his arm extended, plunging the blade through its eye and it fell mid-flight, dead before him.

  With lightening reflexes he turned back to the wounded wolf lunging at, without giving it a second a chance to recover, kicking it squarely in the head with his boot. He turned to swing at the Alpha, who was circling further around him, working out his weakest position for attack. The other wolf had now fallen and he stomped his boot firmly on its muzzle, hearing the cracking of bone as he broke its jaw.