“Third door on your left. Don’t get lost!”
“Such a friendly reminder. Thank you,” Leo responded sarcastically.
Leo glanced at Sarafina and smiled while taking out his iPhone to check the time.
“Ten minutes,” he whispered. “Wait for my signal.”
“Be careful, cowboy.”
Leo walked to the door and disappeared into the hall, unsure if he would find anywhere to hide or escape but he had nothing to lose. He kept his iPhone out pretending to text while his camera streamed a live feed to Sarafina so she would be able to retrace his steps if he found a way out. He hoped it was not the last time he saw her.
Chapter 66
Footfalls tapped the floorboards as Stratus’s men cleared the bottom floor of the cottage. Stratus broke radio silence and announced their progression to the team as two men filed upstairs to hopefully capture Leonard. The soldiers searched upstairs, Stratus and the other member covered the bottom level. Both men up top announced, “Clear,” and Stratus’s heart sank. Now they would have to breech the mansion to get Leo. Based on what he had already encountered, they may not be prepared, and the status of Cromwell was not hopeful.
The sound of broken glass upstairs led to gunshots. The cats had scaled the house and had come in through the upstairs windows. Clarification from Stratus confirmed his men were flushing them downstairs and out of the cottage. Out in the open they would all be exposed. This was an ambush and whoever was behind it knew Stratus’s men had come for Leo.
A flurry of voices came over the radio and gunfire came from the men in the bushes surrounding the home. The men were calling out that dozens of squirrels were diving from the trees down on them.
Stratus spoke into his comms once again, “Ghost squad, break up and regroup at Position Two. Abandon your posts and stay in groups if possible. Whatever you do, don’t enter the maze.”
Stratus told the man standing next to him to flee, and darted upstairs to bring the other team members down.
At the top of the stairs, a cat reared up hissing, arching its back and puffing up its fur. Stratus was about to blow the pest away when he recognized the feline. Leo’s disagreeable cat. He lifted his finger off the trigger and the cat sprinted and darted under a bed.
He heard a struggle and entered the bedroom to find one of his team wrestling with a feline. He lay on the bed, it had a hold of his neck biting, and tearing into his flesh as blood poured out. Fearful of shooting his colleague, Stratus attempted to pull the creature away unsuccessfully, and then opened fire anyhow. His shots tore the cat in half, but the front end was still latched on to the man. The cat tore through the man’s throat, rupturing his jugular and piercing his windpipe.
Stratus looked on as the cat turned its head, its muzzle drenched with the man’s blood dripping from its chin. Its ragged midsection began to foam up as the cat let out a haunting bellowing growl. Its eyes stared into Stratus’s as the foam migrated up its neck covering its face. It collapsed on the man, acid billowing before it turned into sand all over the man’s head. Fearing his second man upstairs met the same fate Stratus searched the room. One of his men entered through the broken window.
“Roof is clear, sir. I got all the stragglers.”
“Let’s move,” Stratus said. “They’re getting killed out there. Let’s join the others at the front entrance.”
They filed downstairs undeterred and exited the front door. Stratus anticipated the worst but was not certain they were prepared for what they would meet next.
Chapter 67
Mr. Sullivan had been watching the front entrance and waiting, but news from Fox One of the Butcher rejuvenated sent him in pursuit. Seeing how there was more than one faction seeking to steal Leo from him, he left two sentries behind on duty. The grounds to the east were mostly open and filled with gardens, ponds and fountains. He wanted the Butcher to know he was out of his home and in pursuit, but more than anything, goad him into a fight.
Mr. Sullivan sent him a data packet. “Hello, Butcher. I know you’re here,” Sullivan shouted, “I know you’re coming for Leonard, but you’ll have to go through me. Turn and run while you still can. Your barbaric, cowardliness, and lack of a conscience isn’t welcome here. I should have left you locked away forever. When I capture you, I will keep your systems running long enough for you to watch me wipe out your existence forever.”
Mr. Sullivan sat on a bench in the garden near the home, calmly waiting for the Butcher’s arrival. He uncrossed his legs and crossed his arms, reaching into his coat he cocked his dual laser-sighted desert eagle pistols and prepared for engagement. He looked forward to dealing with the Butcher as he was a thorn that just kept resurfacing.
Mr. Sullivan’s spies had detected the Butcher making his way down a main path and then suddenly, they became unresponsive.
He knew there was only one way his pets in that quadrant all went dark, an EMP. Mr. Sullivan stood up as he received an incoming data packet.
Hello, Artemus, it read. I’m afraid you’re a few steps behind this time. Without any foresight, or your pets, it’s a fair fight. I’m coming for you. When you fall, I shall rise.
Mr. Sullivan laughed out loudly, unworried about giving away his position.
He shouted out to the Butcher, “Is that what you think Butcher? Tell me, did she send you to run her errand? What a good boy you are.”
While speaking Mr. Sullivan initiated a reboot and systems install sequence for his pets in that quadrant. It would up load the pet’s programming via cloud that had been wiped out. They would be back up soon, time to have a little fun. He walked to the main path where the Butcher had last been spotted and used his wrist device to activate the lights in the garden. When he did, he saw the Butcher exposed and running for cover.
Sullivan yelled out, mockingly once again, “Just like a roach you scattered. I thought you were the Butcher? Perhaps the Butler suits you better.”
The Butcher sprinted for a statue in the center of the garden. While running he laid down a steady spray of gunfire in Sullivan’s direction tearing up the grass in front of him. Before he could hone in on Sullivan the man had moved, the Butcher’s rounds only piercing darkness.
Mr. Sullivan sprinted with tremendous speed to the large fountain, unharmed. A steam-like gas rising from the rounds eating away at the wet grasses and vegetation blocked the view of the Butcher. The gas cleared, and Sullivan watched the Butcher quickly reload his gun. The Butcher appeared confident he had the upper hand, and that he had pinned him in the fountain.
Sullivan did not hesitate to rise from the fountain once the firing ceased. He stepped over the lip of the fountain, drew his desert eagles and held them firmly in front of him, his arms fully extended, and opened fire.
He focused the laser sights on the statue as he fired rapidly; he advanced forward, watching the acid rounds eating through the stone. The once confident Butcher now looked concerned.
With the statue ready to crumble away at any minute, the Butler rolled out low from a crouch and let out a burst of gunfire. His shots once again hit nothing. All he saw was an empty garden and the light mist of the rain.
The Butler was in a horribly exposed spot. Sullivan watched as the Butcher lay on the ground hiding from him. Sullivan loved toying with him. He heard a loud crack as the stone statue ruptured under its unsupported weight. The bulk of the stone dislodged and tumbled over, falling with a wet splat on the damp saturated grass. The Butcher’s cover was gone now. Mr. Sullivan saw the Butcher reach into his vest and pull out a small pill shaped device, throwing it in his direction.
Crouched behind a small wall, Mr. Sullivan reloaded with different ammunition as his adversary opened fire. The object that had been thrown toward him landed fifteen yards in front of him and he now awaited its detonation. He waited, unworried and prepared to end this game so he could get back to watching Fox One handle Stratus. The device emitted an EMP without any effect.
“Pathetic!” Sullivan yelled.
Silence followed his taunt. Sullivan stood and saw the Butcher sprinting toward him. He lined up his lasers on the Butcher and opened fire. He got off five rounds and stood, calmly watching as the Butcher closed the gap on him. What the Butcher did not know was that Sullivan’s rounds were not your average rounds.
The laser paints the targets distance and then detonates the rounds prior to impact. This resulted in a spray of acid in a ten-foot diameter. Before he could even process its impact, the Butcher attempted to dodge the rounds. Instead, he was met by a torrent of acid exploding all over his body eating away at every inch of him.
He staggered then tumbled end over end violently as his eyesight and orientation were compromised. He struggled to rise as his systems took over and shut down to reset. He lay face down the rain falling on his back.
Sullivan smiled, happy to watch the Butler crumble before him, the acid tearing away at him. He turned, dusted himself off and holstered his weapons before walking back to the mansion. The pets would take care of subduing the Butler now. He had other matters to attend to.
As he headed for the residence he received word that his pet’s systems were now restored. He turned around and watched as one by one the squirrels swarmed over the body of the Butcher to stand guard.
Sending the Butcher here was a mistake, Evelyn. Your Butcher is dead, and you’re next.
Chapter 68
Each door in the hallway looked the same to Leo. He found that most were locked, and he was unable to open them. He had hoped to gain entry to the front of the house and slip out the window. He thought he heard footsteps and he quickly ran to the bathroom.
His paranoia was set off by the settling noises of the house and he figured he would check the decadently decorated untarnished lavatory for a window he and Sarafina could use to escape. No exit point led him back to the hall where he saw a black panel on the wall he had overlooked.
He approached the panel and tried to figure out its purpose. Leo put his fingers and palms to it, but all attempts led to it flashing red. He was about to give up but before he did he crouched down to get a good look at it. Leo heard a brief hum as if the panel scanned something, then turned green and the name KRUEGER appeared. Really weird. A concealed panel opened in the wall, revealing a metal spiral staircase leading to an unknown location. A text from Sarafina flashed across Leo’s iPhone. Hey, that’s a long bathroom break. Where are you? The guard’s checking his watch so get a move on it.
Leo had just entered the doorway when he heard a voice call out from the top of the stairs. “Hello Patrick, good to see you again.”
Leo froze mid-step on the first stair and chills sweep all over his body. Leo struggled to process this revelation, thoroughly confused. My father worked here or—took up research here or—was forced to do research here? He sprinted up the stairs, undeterred by what he might find there.
At the top of the hidden stairs, he found an opulent bedroom suite. It seemed like someone had left this room and never return. The sheets disheveled, dirty dishes in the sink and a plated meal long ago rotted, sitting on the kitchen table. His iPhone vibrated in his hand, another text from Sarafina. Leo before you enter those stairs get back here! Mr. Sullivan just walked in.
“Crap,” Leo muttered.
This room must be partially sealed from anything outside of it. The text was delayed; he hoped he was not too late. He turned to run but a noise caught his attention.
A frame had strangely fallen over on the nightstand. Leo raised his brow in curiosity. He went to the frame and flipped it over. It was a framed photograph of his dad and him from the last time he remembered spending time with him. His father’s camera sat beside the picture. Intrigued and more than a little confused, Leo went over the items and picked up the camera. He now knew his father had been here after his supposed death.
He instinctively grabbed the memory card out of the camera, ran out of the room, and sprinted down the stairs. Panting, he exited the secret door and slicked his hair back as he entered the dining area to rejoin Sarafina and Mr. Sullivan.
“Beau-ti-ful,” Leo said. “Nicest place I’ve had the pleasure of christening. I mean it, really! Does anyone even use it?”
Mr. Sullivan’s tense, irritated, angry face relaxed. “Thanks. And yes, it has seen use from time to time. You didn’t get lost, did you?”
“No. Why?”
“Forget about it.”
Mr. Sullivan rose from the table and walked toward Leonard as he approached.
“Not to be rude but you could use some freshening up there,” Leo said. “Smells like wet dog.”
Leo gave a faint smile. He hoped his nervous over chattiness did not made it obvious he was rattled. Mr. Sullivan reciprocated with a smile and a sinister look, reaching out to pat Leo on the shoulder in a chummy fashion. Leo quickly stepped by avoiding contact with the man of the house.
Call him crazy but every time Mrs. Sullivan had been in contact with him, it was as if she knew what he wanted or thought. He feared it might be the same with Mr. Sullivan.
Mr. Sullivan’s hand was left hanging like a botched high five. Mr. Sullivan turned and spoke to Leo as he sat at the table.
“Intuition is the consciousness of the soul Leo.”
Leo halted the fork, stunned at Mr. Sullivan’s comment. There it was again, a Sullivan seemed to know what he was thinking.
Leo could not resist to counter his quote, before Mr. Sullivan exited Leo said, “Don’t forget, the eyes are a window to the soul. Do you have one?”
Mr. Sullivan’s head snapped to the side, and he paused before exiting, as if in shock, considering a reply. Several seconds passed, then calmly he looked forward, and left the room without saying a word.
Chapter 69
Stratus and his counterpart charged off the cottage’s front porch to join up with the rest of his team. Once on the lawn he was surprised at the sound of gunfire and bullets whizzing their way. Until now, it had just been teeth and claws they had to fear. They both ducked low but were in an open field. Cover fire and speed were their only chance.
Stratus determined the shooter was far into the tree line, but the muzzle flashes gave a target to aim. Before Stratus could open and lay suppression fire the shooter found his mark and the soldier next to him took a round to the thigh. Stratus’s few cover rounds were interrupted by the stumbling man and he gave him a shoulder to push on, as he hopped along beside Stratus.
The unknown gunman opened fire again just before the maze’s edge and took the injured man to the ground with more rounds hitting his legs. Stratus’s momentum carried him into the maze as he tried to pull his comrade into the safety of the groomed hedges.
The man was down on all fours reaching for Stratus’s hand when two more shots rang out. One round hit the man’s head and another hit center mass. As he watched the brutal scene just feet away, he knew he had only one choice. He abandoned his fallen teammate and entered the maze he had instructed everyone to avoid.
Stratus wiped away rain, sweat, and blood from his face. The maze may be daunting, but it was his only choice and he pushed ahead at a jog. He activated his night vision and used as much caution as possible, hoping something was not within.
He paused to orient himself and get an idea of how his men were fairing. Confident the shooter did not follow, he opened comms and slowed his breathing.
“This is Team leader. I’ll be in position shortly. How does our entrance look?”
He waited for a response and listened for anything unusual, finally a response came in.
“The front is secure. We are six strong. Shall we breech or wait, sir?”
Stratus hated to hold them back, he did not know how long he would be in the maze.
He tensed and gave the order, “No sense in waiting for these animals to regroup. Breech the home and do whatever is necessary to capture Mr. Krueger. We move the second he’s captured. There’s a shooter out there also, so watch your backs.”
Stratus e
nded the communication and swore under his breath. His leadership and close quarters combat skills would be crucial for the breach. A faint noise caught his attention and he strained to hear it again. The sound of wet boots squeaking on the damp thick grass headed his way. The shooter was back for more.
Chapter 70
The front of the house remained quiet and the team prepared for entry. Two soldiers stood on either side of the door while two others crawled out of the bushes to take the door down. The men on either side provided cover for the team as they stood next to the gargoyle statues framing the door.
The four men lowered their center of gravity, focused their automatic rifles, and readied to charge. One of them reached for the door handle and immediately released his grip. Zapped with electricity, he shook off the painful jolt, and then raised his weapon to blow the lock.
In the darkness he heard scampering footfalls, followed by dozens of glowing eyes. Two dozen cats and squirrels slunk toward them, pointed metal teeth, and eyes focused on the men around the front door. Two men opened fire, yet the small animals held their positions.
The haunting eyes on the gargoyle, like beasts standing next to them, opened, lit up blue, and as their systems came online, they assessed the threat. The beast’s brows focused on the men and tightened, their large mouths curling into a grin. The gargoyles limbs unfolded from their crouching positions, paws flexed, and large metal claws bit into the pavement. The men standing next to them opened fire, fully aware of their truly formidable opponent.
“Go, go, go!” yelled the team leader of the four-man breech unit.
The front man fired three quick shots into the locking mechanism.
Priority one was locating Leonard Krueger, followed by extracting him. Once inside they spread out and began to ascend the stairs. Metal slabs slammed down at the end of the foyer baring their way. The men outside battled to escape and get inside the safety of the house.
Dawn of Tomorrow Page 30