by Brady, R. D.
Dom bounced out of his chair and fetched a bag of cookies from the cabinet behind him. He plopped back in his chair, offering cookies to those around the table. “As a result, Azazyel and the others have lived and died thousands of times. And they have the knowledge of all those incarnations to bring with them. As well as the fighting skills they’ve honed over the millennia.”
“Well, I suppose that could explain the abilities we saw,” Laney said.
“Oh, sure.” Dom took a bite of his cookie. He looked at Laney. “And as you well know, when they're here, they’re, for all intents and purposes, mortal. They can be killed.”
No one seemed to know what to say, so they just stared at Dom in silence. Dom seemed not to notice as he rummaged in the bag for another cookie. Finally finding an acceptable one, he looked back at the group and smiled. “Hey, I’ve got some pictures of the angels in their present incarnations if you want to see them.”
Laney was about to ask to do just that, when Jake stormed away from the table.
CHAPTER 33
Although getting into Dom's lab required Henry’s presence and security codes, getting out just required some muscle to pull open the blast doors. With the anger dogging Jake’s steps, he had more than enough to accomplish the task.
“Angels, Atlantis, psychics, and ancient hippies,” he growled as he stalked up the tunnel.
He’d reached the second blast door before he realized he wasn’t alone. He held it open for Laney to slip through before he followed her out.
She reached the front door and pushed it open. “You okay?”
Jake noted the concern in her eyes and his anger ebbed a bit. “I don't know, Laney. What exactly am I supposed to make of all that?”
Laney didn’t say anything, just followed behind him as he began to push through the overgrown path. When the path was clear, she stepped up next to him. “Jake, I know you’re frustrated and you want to do something. But I think this actually does help.”
Jake stopped short and glared down at her. “Help? How the hell does any of this crazy help?”
She flinched at his tone, but held her ground. “It helps more than you getting angry and storming off.”
“Look, I’m not angry. I’m just…” He ran his hands through his hair. “Hell, I don’t know what I am. This just all seems too crazy. I know what I saw in Afghanistan. I know what happened yesterday. I know what the M.E. says. But fallen angels?”
“I know it seems unreal, but we have to look at the facts. These men are unreal. Their fighting skills, their healing abilities. None of them are normal.”
Jake looked past Laney. He let out a breath. She was right. They weren’t normal. Which meant there wasn’t going to be a nice, easy explanation. “I know. It's just… When I heard Tom had gone missing, I thought it would take me a couple of days to track him down. I figured he’d run off. I’d talk him down, help him get settled. But this? I don't want him in the middle of this.”
She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I know. But we don’t always get what we want.”
He looked at her upturned face and saw the sadness there. “I don’t want you in the middle of this, either.”
She smiled, the sadness still there. “Like I said, we don’t always get what we want.”
He cleared his throat. “So tell me, Dr. McPhearson, what do we do now?”
“We find the site. That’s where Tom will be.”
“Besides believing it’s in the U.S., we have no idea where to look.”
“Actually, I do have an idea about that. While you guys have been tracking down all your sources for any information, I’ve been thinking about the weak link in this chain. It’s Priddle. He’s the one who brought Drew on, and then Drew sent me the paper. Priddle left his university, quickly. I’m betting there are some clues there.”
Jake nodded. She was right. He should have thought of that. “Not bad for a professor.”
She grinned. “Well, I have my moments.”
“I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“And I’ll go with you.”
He shook his head. “No chance. It’s too dangerous.”
Laney’s expression was fierce. “Drew was killed because of all of this. Mike and Rocky were hurt and four other officers were killed. I won’t sit here twiddling my thumbs while you take all the risks. The sooner we find out where the site is, the sooner all this ends. Besides, I’m guessing you’re not well-versed in academic-speak. I am.
Jake wanted to argue with her. He didn’t want her going. She’d be safer here. He knew, though, that she was right. She’d already lost Drew to this madness. If it were him, he’d go crazy without something to do. And she was more familiar with talking to academics than he was. His form of interrogation generally involved fists and sharp instruments. Neither would be too helpful in this case.
She smiled and his breath caught. But nothing was going to happen to her, he vowed. He wouldn’t let it.
CHAPTER 34
Saint Paul, MN
The flight to Minnesota that morning had been happily uneventful. Laney spent most it reviewing the information she’d gathered on angels. It was fascinating stuff. According to theologians, mankind had been sharing the earth with angels since the beginning of time. Although, generally speaking, the angels had just made short visits rather than taking up residence.
When talking about the power of angels, however, the research mainly addressed nephilim, the offspring of angels. They were reported to be giants with incredible strength, speed, and cruelty. And if that’s what half-angel beings were capable of, she didn’t want to imagine what full-blooded angels were capable of.
In the abstract, it might be fascinating, but in terms of potential opponents, it was terrifying.
Now as Jake pulled into one of the parking garages at the University of Saint Paul, Laney felt a mixture of familiarity and sadness. A wave of grief had blindsided her on the way over. Their route had taken them past Drew’s neighborhood. She hadn’t mentioned it to Jake. It hurt too much to talk about.
The ache in her chest grew at the sight of the familiar campus. Brick academic buildings, many with ivy covering their walls and columns announcing their entryways, lined the intersecting pathways that broke up the University of Saint Paul’s 100-acre campus. Set on the outskirts of Saint Paul, the campus was boarded by Mississippi River on the eastern end of the campus.
She kept expecting to see Drew bound across the green grass and wrap her in a bear hug, like the last time she’d visited. It didn’t seem real that he was gone. Pushing those feelings aside, she led Jake across campus to the building that housed the archaeology program.
The office of Dr. Sean Childress, chair of the Department of Anthropology and Archaeology, offered an incredible view of the river. That was, however, all they had gotten out of their visit. In regard to information on Dr. Priddle, the man simply wasn’t any help. All he would say was that the department greatly admired Dr. Priddle’s work, and they were sad to see him go.
“And if Dr. Priddle re-emerges, will he be offered a tenure-track position?” Laney asked.
Dr. Childress pushed his glasses up his nose and looked at a spot behind Laney. “Due to budget constraints and differing visions for his role in the department, that is unlikely.”
Laney knew that was academic double-speak for ‘we couldn’t stand him,’ but neither she nor Jake could get any additional information out of the tightlipped chair.
“And you have no idea where he went?” Jake asked.
“No. He left us in quite a bind. I’ve asked the whole department, but I’m afraid Dr. Priddle wasn’t very social.” Academic translation: He was an ass.
After thirty more minutes of getting nowhere, Laney stood. “Well, thank you for your time, Dr. Childress.”
Dr. Childress rose from behind his desk, placing a hand across his rotund mid-section. He pushed his glasses back up his nose with his index finger again and extended his hand towards Lane
y and then Jake. “We’re always happy to help the Chandler Group. And I’m sorry again for your loss. Drew was truly a gifted academic.”
Laney nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She gestured towards the student at the back of the office working on the computer. “I wonder if we might borrow your student aide for just a short while. This campus is so large. I was hoping she could direct us back to our car.”
“Of course, of course,” Dr. Childress said magnanimously. He turned to the petite blonde. “Tara, could you please show Dr. McPhearson and Mr. Rogan to where they need to go?”
Tara grabbed her backpack with a little skip that set her blonde ponytail bouncing. “Sure, Dr. Childress. No problem.”
As they followed Tara out, Jake leaned over and whispered. “You know, Laney, I’ve made it through the Yucatan Peninsula, the deserts of Afghanistan, and a couple of other less desirable backwaters across the globe. I don’t think finding the parking garage will be a stretch.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Just follow my lead, okay?”
“Okay, Doc.”
As Tara walked out into the bright sunlight, Laney introduced herself and Jake to the girl. “So, you must have been excited to work with someone of Dr. Priddle’s caliber.”
Tara made a face. “Yeah, sure.”
“You didn’t like Dr. Priddle?” Laney asked.
Tara shrugged.
“You know, I really hated some of my professors,” Jake said. “They were always so full of themselves.”
Tara nodded vigorously. “Oh, I know what you mean.”
“In fact, a few students have told us that Dr. Priddle was one of the worst,” he said.
“They did?”
“Oh, yeah. Did he give you any problems?” Laney asked.
“He really wasn’t very nice,” Tara began and stopped. At Jake’s encouraging nod, though, the dam that held back Tara’s words burst. “He was actually a real jerk. Not like Dr. Masters. He was real nice. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“Me either,” Laney said.
Tara nodded. “But Dr. Priddle was never, ever, nice. He never remembered my name and always wanted his stuff done right away, even when I had other professors’ work to do first. And he never said thank you – not ever. And, God, he was so gross. It was like he dipped himself in oil. I hated going into his office. I always felt like I needed a shower afterwards.”
Laney bit back a smile. “Did you see him before he left?”
“Oh, sure.”
“Anything stick out?”
Tara shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess he was kind of weird. He said something about showing everyone who he really was.” She rolled her eyes. “What a jerk.”
“Do you know where he went?” Jake asked.
Tara’s phone beeped. She rummaged through her backpack looking for it, reading the text while answering. “I guess Montana.”
“Montana?” Jake asked.
Tara put the phone back in her bag after sending a quick text. “Yeah. He needed me to get some topographic maps of Montana around some place called Haven or Haver or something like that a few weeks ago.”
“But how do you know that’s where he was heading?”
Tara shifted her bag on her shoulder. “Because the day he left, he came to his office. He was in a big rush. I was setting up the bulletin board outside his door. Anyway, he called somebody. I don't know who. He was usually real private when he got phone calls. He even closed his door, so no one could hear.”
Tara rolled her eyes again. “Like anyone would want to. Anyway, I guess he was too distracted this time. He asked whoever was on the phone about the money and if his equipment had arrived. And then he asked how long the plane ride would be from Saint Paul to Haven or Haver or whatever. I finished the bulletin board and left. I don’t think he even realized I was there.
By now, they’d reached the parking garage and Laney thanked Tara for her help. With a last lingering look at Jake, she headed off to her next class.
Jake turned to Laney with a raised eyebrow. “Good call on the student. What made you think she’d know something?”
“Well, professors don’t like to talk about other professors, even when they can’t stand them. Students, however, love to bitch about their professors. And being she was quietly hanging out in the background, I had got the feeling she probably saw and heard a lot. So, it seemed like a good possibility.”
“Good hunch. And now thanks to Tara, we now know where we’re heading next.”
“Montana.”
“Yup. Montana.” Jake agreed.
CHAPTER 35
Havre, MT
Cheers rang out across the enclosure. A crowd of guards and inmates surrounded the two combatants. The men circled each other, jockeying for the best position. Both men had cuts on their knuckles and faces. Their clothing, which had been tattered prior to the fight, had been reduced to mere strips of fabric that barely clung to the men’s emaciated frames.
Tom was sickened by the spectacle. The smaller of the men, Seeley, held his ribs. Tom was pretty sure some of them were broken. He’d been close enough to hear the crack. The less injured combatant, Devon, charged across the space, aiming for them.
“Left hook! Left hook!” one of the guards yelled.
The man’s glee was splashed across his face. Tom fought to keep from telegraphing his own disgust. He must have bet on Devon.
Another guard reached out his foot as the combatants neared and tripped Devon. He fell to the ground. Seeley leapt on top of him. Their thin bodies rolled across the space. Devon managed to get a leg in between them and flung Seeley off. With a grunt, he slammed into the ground, his face a painful grimace
A guard across the circle threw a shovel into the arena. Both men leapt for it, knowing it was the difference between life and death. The guards pointed and laughed.
Tom looked away, struggling to keep his breathing even, unable to stand the sight any longer. Seeley was in trouble. Devon was the stronger of the two fighters. He outweighed Seeley by a good thirty pounds and had at least five inches on him. The guards thought it was funny that they were so mismatched.
The fights happened once a day. Sometimes the guards let the combatants live, but usually it was to the death. Even those that lived through the fight didn’t survive many days after it. They probably could have, if they’d been given medical attention. But that wasn’t going to happen here.
And the guards didn’t care. This was sport for them. Tom looked over at Commander Gregory. He stood with his arms crossed, staring down at the combatants, a smirk on his face. As horrible as the guards were, Commander Gregory was the worst.
To the commander, this was just a cockfight. The men fighting were no longer even human to him. Tom had seen Gregory take every opportunity to inflict pain, physical or otherwise, on the prisoners. Tom knew he was no exception. The Commander recognized early on that Tom could take the physical pain easier than the emotional pain. When he saw Tom’s reaction to the body pit, he made sure that from that point on Tom was always one of the men who carried the bodies over. Every time Tom did, Gregory was there, watching him.
A loud cheer arose from the guards, pulling Tom’s attention back to the fight. Seeley had somehow managed to wrestle the shovel away from Devon. He’d gotten a lucky strike to Devon’s head. Now he slammed away at him, looking like a man possessed.
Panting, Seeley paused, holding the shovel above his head. He flipped the shovel over. Using it as a spear, he drove it directly into Devon’s face.
Tom’s stomach lurched. The fight was over. He watched in horror as Devon’s blood splattered across the ground, along with bits of bone and, oh God, was that brain matter?
He tore his eyes away from the sight to look at Seeley. Swaying on his feet, his right arm clutched to his side. His eyes were wide as he stared at the bloody spectacle in front of him.
Tom looked up into Commander Gregory’s cold eyes.
“Clean it up,” Gr
egory barked, pointing to Tom and the man next to him.
Tom tried to wipe all emotion from his face. Denying the Commander the satisfaction of seeing him react was one of the only victories he could achieve in this place.
He walked over to Devon’s body with quick movements, his face without expression. But as he glanced down at what was left of the man’s face, an involuntary shudder ran through him. He struggled not to gag.
Please don’t let him have seen that, he pleaded silently as he looked up. The Commander stared down at him, victory in his eyes.
CHAPTER 36
Saint Paul, MN
Laney and Jake shared a bench on the campus, right on the river. Jake was on the phone, relaying the information they’d found out to Henry and coming up with their next step.
Laney was glad she wasn’t part of the conversation. Her mind was working overtime with the possibilities around Montana. Dr. Priddle’s ideas, although controversial in archaeology, were logical, if there was indeed a prior advanced civilization. But Montana? She dialed her uncle.
“Hi, Uncle Patrick.”
“Laney,” Patrick exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. “How’d the visit go?”
“Pretty well.” She gave her uncle a shortened version of the conversation with Tara. “Is it really possible the site we’re looking for is in the United States? Is there any evidence of an extremely early civilization in North America?”
“Actually, that’s an interesting question. Alternate archaeologists contend that North America was indeed home to ancient civilizations.
“What? I’ve never heard that before. Is there any proof?
“Well, that’s matter of debate. There are rumors, of course. My favorite is about a lost city found under the Grand Canyon back in 1909. And then there have been isolated findings which people argue indicate an ancient civilization’s existence. Ancient Indian medallions found in Michigan, a Stonehenge-like structure found in Miami, of all places, an Egyptian statue found in Illinois. There quite a few unexplainable artifacts that have been found in the U.S., or in some cases, reputed to have been found.”