by I. T. Lucas
The guy with the RPG panicked, aiming the missile at the few men coming through the window and firing before Sebastian had a chance to shout, “No!”
Their only strategic advantage had just gotten wasted. Unless more of his men armed themselves with RPGs it was down to swords.
The armor was protecting the Guardians from bullets, but it was encumbering their movements, making them more vulnerable to swords and knives and giving Sebastian and his men an advantage.
He just hoped it would be enough.
Chapter 22: Dalhu
Damn, nothing was working according to plan.
Kian’s earpiece had malfunctioned big time, rendering him temporarily deaf at least in that one ear. He removed his helmet and was shouting orders, not because the Guardians had trouble hearing him, but because he couldn’t hear himself.
Dalhu removed his as well.
There was no point in having them on anyway. The Doomers were no longer shooting. That missile had been the only one so far, but he expected more.
Out in the courtyard, the Guardians were exposed.
Dalhu glanced up, expecting rifles and RPGs pointed at them. Curiously, he could see no one in the second- and third-floor windows.
For now.
The Doomers had been taken by surprise, and it would take them a few minutes to get organized. In addition to assigning men to the upstairs windows, they were most likely creating another barricade on the first floor, with missiles aimed at the front door.
Kian must’ve reached the same conclusion because he shouted at Bhathian and Anandur to stop trying to break it down.
It was one big cluster-fuck.
Kian had been expecting a big courtyard fight, with Guardians engaging most of the Doomers, and the rescue team going inside and taking care of the few who had remained to guard the women. Instead, the Doomers surprised them all by making a hasty retreat the moment they realized their bullets were ineffective. They barricaded the front door before the rescue team had a chance to get inside.
Since when did Doomers run from a fight?
For nearly eight hundred years it had been drilled into his head that Doomers fight to the death.
Retreat?
They would’ve been executed by their own commanders.
Things couldn’t have changed so drastically over the few months since he’d left. Which meant that the commanding officer of this unit had trained them differently.
To some extent, Dalhu had been familiar with all of the commanders, and as those rarely got replaced, he probably knew this one as well.
Which one could it be?
He must’ve been one of the higher ups to be allowed to deviate from the standard training. That limited the list of possibilities, but also precluded Dalhu from guessing which one it was.
Dalhu had commanded a small field unit and could testify to the style of his own superior and the other unit commanders under him, but none of the others.
Except, there was one top commander who everyone had known was different. The one who treated his soldiers exceptionally well, but tortured women. The sadist, as everyone called Sharim behind his back. But there was no chance in hell he was here. Losham would never send his son on a mission like this. It didn’t fit his status. Sharim was almost on the same footing as Navuh’s sons.
Unless, Losham’s golden child had failed at something, falling from grace, and this was his punishment,
Dalhu should be so lucky.
If there was one man he’d been dreaming of killing for years it was this one. Dalhu had seen first-hand what the sadistic bastard had been doing to the girls. The brothel’s manager had been keeping Sharim’s victims off the roster until they healed, and no one had been supposed to see the amount of damage they had suffered. Dalhu’s visit had been a fluke. He’d promised the girl to bring her a gift from her homeland, and returning from a stint in Russia he’d thought nothing of visiting her in her room to deliver it even though she’d been reported sick and out of commission.
When he’d seen what that son of a bitch had done to her, Dalhu had wanted to get his hands on Sharim’s neck and just rip it off so badly, he’d almost gone insane from the need. Lucky for Dalhu, Sharim had left for an overseas trip and hadn’t come back for several months. By then Dalhu had calmed down enough to realize that he would gain nothing by attacking the sadist. He would most certainly lose his head to the nearest guy with a sword. Sharim’s warriors were loyal to him.
“Dalhu, snap out of it. This is not the time for daydreaming!” Kian snapped his fingers in front of Dalhu’s face.
“Sorry. You were saying?”
It seemed that Kian’s hearing was back to normal because he was no longer shouting. Several Guardians were huddled around them, and Dalhu felt like an idiot for being so deep in his own head that he hadn’t noticed them coming.
Damn, he’d spent too much time playing at being an artist and had forgotten how to be a soldier. This inattention could’ve gotten him killed.
Kian glared at him and continued without repeating what he’d said before. “We can’t remove the body armor, and after we are done here, I want you to put your helmets back on. They can shoot at us from the windows on the upper floors. We need to stay close to the walls so they will not be able to launch rockets at us.”
“What about grenades?” Brundar asked.
“Yeah, then we are screwed. But with the suits the damage won't be as extensive.”
Bhathian shifted from foot to foot like he had an itch inside his pants he couldn’t reach, which was entirely possible with the damned armor. It wasn’t easy to put on or take off. “What about the women?”
Kian pinned him with a hard stare. “Nothing we can do until we take the Doomers out.”
Bhathian grimaced. But what other answer could he have expected?
Kian seemed pissed, and for a good reason. Bhathian should’ve known better. “New plan. Onegus, we need to blast that door with explosives. The Doomers probably shoved all their furniture behind it. We need enough of a blast to not only clear the way but hopefully incapacitate anyone who is lying in wait behind it.”
“I’m on it.”
“Team commanders. You all remember the layout, right? On the lower level there are two windows in the front, one on the east wall, and four facing the back. I’m talking only about the big ones.” He glanced around making sure they were clear on that.
“Bhathian, you take your team to the one in the kitchen. It’s the closest to the staircase leading to the basement. Oideche, you and your guys take the dining room…” Kian continued until there were only a few men who hadn’t gotten assigned an entry point, including Dalhu and Brundar. It seemed that Kian wanted them to stay with him.
No problem. Dalhu’s first priority was to ensure Kian’s safety.
“Onegus, your team charges the front. Brundar, Dalhu and I are with you.”
“Welcome aboard, sir.” Onegus saluted with a smile.
Kian’s lip twitched but that was the extent of his amusement. “Brundar, check with William if he heard everything I said?”
“He did.”
“Onegus, how long do you need to plant the explosives?”
“Five minutes tops.”
“Good. It’s five fifty-six now. At ten past six William will say go. No one moves until then. I want a synchronized attack. If any of you encounter a problem and can’t make it on time, let everyone know when and if you can make it. If it’s a few minutes, I’ll delay the go signal. Otherwise we go without you. Everyone clear?” He waited a split second to see if anyone had any questions. “Okay. Move out, people.”
As Onegus crept up to the front door, their group stayed behind. He was going to set the explosives to go off at the same time as the other teams broke through the windows, which meant that theirs would do it with a slight delay. They had to wait a safe distance away and only then rush for the opening the explosion would create.
Hopefully, any RPGs aimed at the front
would get discharged before their team got there. Getting hit with one was nasty and the damage was so extensive that it took weeks to heal. Especially if a limb had to be regenerated. In some rare cases it was deadly even to an immortal. There was a limit to how much damage their bodies could repair at the same time. In most cases, though, the body just went into stasis while repairing itself. The problem with that was the vulnerability—easy to kill by someone who knew what needed to be done.
Like an enemy immortal.
“Go!” William’s voice sounded in Dalhu’s earpiece at the same time Onegus’s bomb went off, and their group charged ahead leaping over the debris to get inside.
The sight that greeted them was one that Dalhu would never forget.
The other teams were already inside and fighting. Immortals brandishing swords and going at each other with grim determination was a vision to behold. The power, the deadly intent—in a way it was beautiful. This was a clash of titans, and no other battle he’d fought in before could compare.
Except, the moment his eyes landed on Sharim and recognition sat in, the beauty of battle faded away, replaced by a haze of red-hot rage.
The fury he hadn’t experienced in months hit him with a vengeance. As far as he was concerned, no other opponent existed other than the sadist. The son of a bitch was his to kill.
Dalhu pulled out his sword and took off his helmet at the same time, flinging the headgear aside. With a laser-like focus, he advanced toward his target, swatting away Doomers as if they were annoying flies. Dimly, he was aware that Kian and Brundar were fighting by his side, dispatching those who he’d flung aside.
Finally Sharim noticed him, and a split second later Dalhu saw recognition settle in the sadist’s eyes. His first response was surprise, but then he smiled with a mouthful of fangs and started advancing toward Dalhu while his soldiers kept Guardians off his back.
“Look who’s here. The biggest traitor of them all. Supposedly dead but not. Well, not for long.” Sharim swung his sword in an arc.
Chapter 23: Kian
Kian watched Dalhu zero in on one of the Doomers, advancing toward the guy as if there were no other fighters in the room. Like a force of nature, or perhaps a fighting machine, he plowed through the warriors, swatting them aside as if they were puny humans.
Damn.
Kian was reminded of The Terminator, one of the few movies Anandur and Brundar had succeeded in convincing him to watch with them.
Dalhu looked more formidable than the character in that movie.
Brundar and Kian had no choice but fight those Dalhu was flinging aside. Embarrassing. As if they were his squires and not his superiors.
Except, it seemed that Dalhu had a good reason for his razor-like focus on that one Doomer. When the bastard recognized him, he smiled as if Dalhu wasn’t the most terrifying warrior in the room. This was no doubt the leader, and he was either overconfident in his fighting skills or an idiot. Dalhu was a head taller and fearless. But there was no fear in his opponent’s eyes either.
“Look who’s here. The biggest traitor of them all. Supposedly dead but not. Well, not for long.” The guy advanced on Dalhu.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this day, Sharim, you sadistic son of a bitch.”
“Tsk-tsk. So rude. But also so true. I am a sadist, proud of it, and my dear mother was a bitch and a whore, just like yours.”
Sharim was goading Dalhu, waiting for him to make a stupid move. As fearless as the guy was in the face of Dalhu’s superior size and strength, he must’ve believed himself a master swordsman, and observing the way he was handling his sword, Kian suspected that his confidence was merited.
Damn, if something happened to Dalhu, Amanda would blame Kian for not watching his back.
Except, all he could do at this point was ensure that the duel remained between Dalhu and Sharim and none of the other Doomers jumped in to defend their leader.
There was some kind of personal vendetta going on here, and to interfere was to rob Dalhu of something he evidently had been wanting to do for years.
Dalhu would never forgive Kian if he took this kill away from him.
A conundrum. He was damned if he did and damned if he did not.
As the two started circling each other, Kian, Brundar, and the rest of the team engaged the other Doomers.
The fighting was vicious, and Kian was sure their casualties would have been much greater if not for Brundar—a true master swordsman. In short order he had a pile of Doomers at his feet, but it didn’t seem as if he was intending on finishing them off. He just kept dispatching the warriors, skewering one after the other on his sword like pieces of shish-kebab, then casting their limp bodies aside as he went for the next one.
Kian and the other Guardians weren’t having it so easy. A deep thigh wound was impacting Kian’s balance, and most of the other guys had bleeding cuts all over. Brundar not only didn’t have a scratch on him, but not one of his long blond hairs had gotten loose from the ponytail he had pulled it in before the battle.
The guy was indeed a killing machine. Except, he wasn’t the one doing the actual killing. He was leaving the final kill to the others and only preparing the bodies for them.
Damned Brundar, he should’ve cut off their heads and be done with it. Now Kian couldn’t justify a final kill. The Doomers were already down.
It didn’t take long for the sounds of battle to start dying out, and in the end the only ones still going at each other were Dalhu and his opponent.
Brundar wiped his sword on one of the Doomers’ shirts, returned it to its scabbard, and picked up one of the upended chairs. Putting it down so it faced the duel, he sat down, crossed his feet at the ankles, his arms over his chest, and settled down to watch.
Kian shook his head. At least the arrogant bastard could’ve gotten him a chair as well. His thigh was killing him.
“Onegus, grab me a chair, will you?”
“Sure, boss.”
His chief Guardian picked up one with his uninjured arm and brought it over.
“Much obliged.”
“You’re welcome.”
Sitting down, Kian sighed with relief as the weight shifted off his leg. The Doomer must’ve hit the femoral artery. It not only hurt like a motherfucker, but it bled like a faucet had been opened in his leg.
With gritted teeth, he put a hand over the cut and compressed it, then turned his head to look at Onegus. “Check on the others.” Kian would’ve done it himself if his earpiece was working, but without it he was dependent on others.
Note to self. Never go out on a mission without a spare one.
“Activate wide channel,” Onegus commanded his device.
“Team one report.” He listened and nodded. “Good job, guys.”
With a light tap he closed the channel and turned to Kian. “The rescue team has the basement secured and they are breaking down one door at a time to free the women. What do you want to be done with them?”
“Keep them there until we clean up the mess. Tell the other teams to search every room and the grounds for stray Doomers. Some might be hiding.”
As Onegus checked with the other teams and relayed his instruction, Kian watched the fight. It was good that Brundar was available if intervention was needed. Kian would take Dalhu’s anger at the interference over Amanda’s grief of losing her mate any day.
Surprisingly, Dalhu and Sharim turned out to be equally matched. What Dalhu lacked in skill he compensated for in size and strength, and the opposite was true for Sharim. The guy was almost as good as Brundar, maybe even just as good.
They were both tiring.
Dalhu was cut in several places, while Sharim was scratch-free, but it was obvious that his sword arm was weakening while Dalhu’s was just as strong and as steady as it had been at the start of the duel.
“The men are asking what to do with the Doomers. Those who still have their heads attached to their bodies and those who do not.”
“Body bag
s for the dead, and venom to the brink for the others.”
Onegus cocked a brow. “I thought you didn’t want to take any more to the crypt.”
Kian sighed. “If they didn’t kill them during battle, I can’t justify an execution. I can stretch the limit but I can’t cross them completely. Their punishment for disobeying my directive will be to put their fangs in those Doomers' necks. Have them do it now before any of the fuckers start reviving.”
“What about Brundar’s pile?”
“Let him watch the duel. Have the others take care of it for him. I haven’t seen the guy enjoy himself this much since… well, ever.”
Onegus chuckled. “You’re right. Should I tell Bridget and Andrew to get up here?”
“Yeah. But first call Rick. I want to get rid of the bodies before we bring the women up from the basement. No need to traumatize them any more than they already are.”
Richard and the extra large truck they had rented to transport the bodies had been waiting at a nearby gas station for the okay to drive up.
“We need Bridget here.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Tell Andrew he can drive up as well. They can park outside the wall until the truck leaves. There is not enough parking space in the front yard for the truck and the two buses.”
As Onegus got busy relaying his instructions, Kian turned his full attention back to the duel.
Sharim was covered in sweat, but so was Dalhu, and Dalhu was bleeding from several deep cuts. On the other hand, Sharim was starting to realize that he’d already lost. His men were dead or being put in stasis, and he was the last one standing. If he surrendered, Kian would be forced to offer him the option of stasis as well.
He hoped like hell the guy would fight to the death.
Sharim’s death, that is, not Dalhu’s.
It hit him then that his concern for Dalhu wasn’t entirely about Amanda and keeping her mate safe. It was a big part of it, but Kian had to admit that he’d actually started to like the guy and didn’t want to lose a friend.