Light of the Last

by Chuck Black

  Tren evaluated Persimus with a critical eye, then nodded his approval.

  “How long can he maintain it?” Crenshaw asked Validus, knowing that Persimus could not hear or see them in translated form.

  “As long as you need me to,” Persimus replied in the hoarse voice of a ragged old woman.

  Crenshaw’s eyes opened wide, and the other warriors all looked confused. “How…” he began.

  “Persimus has learned how to partially translate, thereby keeping one foot in both realms, if you will,” Validus offered. “It’s good enough to fool humans, demons, and angels alike, and he can maintain the translation indefinitely.”

  Sason shot Validus another skeptical look.

  “How long were you the Brazilian boy in the favela?” Validus asked Persimus as he translated back to a warrior.

  Persimus looked as though he didn’t want to answer.

  “Dispense with humility, warrior. We need to know the extent of everyone’s abilities,” Validus chided.

  “Thirteen months,” Persimus said.

  This gained the respect of every one of the warriors, including Tren.

  Validus looked at Sason. With dark brown eyes, black hair, olive skin, and a mouth framed by stubble, the warrior was always the first to speak his opinion, often without being asked.

  “Since we’re on the subject of translation, Sason has the ability to translate much larger objects than usual and maintain them for significant distances.” Validus moved on. “I don’t think I need to offer an explanation of Brumak’s abilities. His strength and ability to carry a fight is legendary.”

  He nodded toward Jayt. This warrior was quiet, even compared to Tren. There was an air of confidence in everything he did. He had narrow eyes, straight black hair, and movements like a human ninja. “Jayt is our weapons specialist. He is an expert in every translatable weapon mankind has created, but his favorite…” Validus lifted a hand to the warrior.

  Jayt opened his cream-colored knee-length trench coat to reveal an entire arsenal of handguns and grenades, but the majority of the space was filled with knives.

  “Why knives?” Sason asked. “Seems archaic in the age of propulsion weapons.”

  Jayt stared at him as if he might throw one his way. “Because they’re silent and deadly no matter the distance.”

  Sason raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “If you’re fast enough and accurate enough.”

  Jayt didn’t respond.

  “Can you actually do grenades?” Rake asked. “I’ve never heard of a warrior who was able to effectively translate explosives, let alone the resulting blast.”

  “I can translate the explosives and even the detonation, but I’m still working on the blast. The concussion is tricky and difficult to maintain. I have to get close to maintain it, and it gets dangerous,” Jayt replied.

  “I can imagine,” Rake said.

  Validus continued. “Rake is a warrior with speed, both with and without wings. He flies at near-messenger speed and runs nearly the same.” He glanced at the red-headed warrior. Rake was the lighthearted one, but any brevity disappeared the instant a demon was near.

  “And finally we have Crenshaw.” Validus turned and looked into the mesmerizing pale-green eyes of the warrior. “Elohim has given Crenshaw the ability to sense and determine events moments before they happen. With what we will be facing from the Fallen, I’m looking to you to keep us alert. Over the last year, we’ve learned with Carter that the Fallen could attack at any time and at any place.”

  Crenshaw nodded.

  “So you can see the future.” Sason’s questions were never really questions. They were statements of contest that demanded a response.

  Crenshaw was unfazed. “Not far…usually only a few minutes and not usually with specificity. The more angels and demons involved, the easier it is to see.”

  Sason scrutinized Crenshaw but remained silent, much to Validus’s surprise.

  “I want demonstrations,” Jayt said, eyes narrow with concern. “If this mission is going to be as dicey as you say, I want to see what they can do.”

  “Commander, we’ve got trouble,” Crenshaw interjected. He looked west across the FBI complex lawn and pointed. “There.”

  “Numbers?”

  “Unsure, but more than us,” Crenshaw said drawing his sword.

  “No time for exhibitions, Jayt.” Validus drew his sword. “Tren, Rake, I can’t imagine Carter is in danger inside the FBI holding cell but get there and make sure the Fallen aren’t trying something with him. As soon as you are convinced he’s safe, get back here.”

  The guardian and the warrior materialized through the southern wall of the building as the rest of the warriors prepared. A moment later, a line of more than fifty Fallen appeared. Some came from the west, some from the south. They all carried swords and pistols but they stopped twenty yards away, as if they were waiting for something.

  “Any droxans?” Validus asked Crenshaw.

  “Not that I can tell.”

  Finally a demon stepped through the line. Validus recognized him as Zurock, one of the regional commanders on the West Coast. Validus had found it difficult to find a regional commander who could match the demon’s tactics. Evidently Niturni had transferred Zurock to this region of the US to replace Durgank, and Validus suspected that it had everything to do with Carter.

  Zurock walked up and down his line of demons, sneering at Validus and his men. Black, deep-set eyes glared with the hatred of six millennia. As an angel he would have been fair to look upon, with dark brown hair and a chiseled, handsome face, but now, after evil had done its work, his beauty had been transformed into a tool of fear and menace. Zurock clutched his sword, but he did not attack.

  “What are they waiting for?” Sason said.

  “For him,” Crenshaw said, looking into the sky behind them.

  Validus saw it too. A Fallen was descending, his dark wings spread wide, casting a shadow beneath him as he came. Validus’s heart began to pound as his hand instinctively gripped his sword tighter. It was his ancient friend turned enemy, Niturni. He would land just a few yards from Validus, fearless and arrogant. Validus noticed that the other Fallen and even Zurock seemed intimidated by Niturni. His power must be great indeed.

  Before Niturni’s feet touched down, a wide, sickening smile spread across his dark face.

  “Ah, Validus.” Niturni’s voice was thick with condescension. “So this is the pathetic and feeble band of warriors you’ve assembled.” He slowly shook his head as he walked in front of Validus and his men as if inspecting them. “I expected so much more from you.” He turned and looked at the FBI building where Carter was being held. “We will kill him, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us. It’s all falling perfectly into place, just as planned.” He looked back at Validus. “You’re such a predictable pawn, my old friend.”

  Even after six thousand years, Validus still fought his inclination to believe that he was the last and the least. How could he match the strength and brilliance of a fallen angel from the One Hundred—those first mighty angels created by Elohim to lead the angelic orders? The presence of the warriors beside him was a reminder, however, that he was not least, for Elohim had chosen him for this time and for this place.

  “Niturni, your pride always precedes you, and it will be your undoing. Even if you could gain access to Carter, there is nothing in that building you could use to harm him.”

  Niturni laughed, then allowed his sadistic smile to fall from his face. His eyes turned icy cold as he glared at Validus. “I’m not here to destroy Carter…not today. I’m here to destroy you!”

  Niturni turned his back on Validus and walked toward Zurock. “Kill them all!” he ordered as he flew up and behind Zurock and his demons.

  “Keep our line tight,” Validus ordered.

  The Fallen unleashed a wall of bullets just ahead of their attack, but before a single round hit Validus’s men, Sason stepped forward and swept his sword across th
e screaming pellets of lead, intercepting their translations and sending them back into the realm of humans. All that remained were miniature wisps of vapor where the bullets once were.

  “Didn’t know you could do that!” Validus said.

  Validus, Crenshaw, and Persimus pulled and emptied their handguns into the horde of Fallen racing toward them while Jayt let eight knives silently follow. Brumak stepped forward and was the first to engage four demons at once. In one massive stroke, he cut through three of them and finished the fourth with a return slice, then turned, anxious for more.

  A few seconds later, Validus saw Tren and Rake jump from the third story of the FBI building to join them. He watched as Rake morphed his wings midair and flew swiftly down toward the attacking Fallen. Two demons jumped upward to intercept him, and Validus worried for his man, but Rake twisted and dropped, swinging his blade in a perfect upward cut through one of the demons. The earth below swallowed the remnant green vapor. Rake then turned and demorphed his wings, smoothly transitioning to a perfect fighting stance beside Validus.

  Validus looked for Zurock, but the coward hung back, watching his men attack while Niturni floated above him. Then it dawned on Validus that Niturni’s real intention was to observe his opponent’s team and discover their strengths and weaknesses. Whether Niturni was successful in defeating his team would be irrelevant, for Validus knew the demons would be replaced before the end of the day. This ruthless commander he had once called friend was sacrificing his warriors simply to explore Validus’s team’s capabilities.

  Validus engaged two demons and put them down in short order. Now all eight of the angels stood side by side, skillfully eliminating each wave of Fallen that came at them. Brumak was a beast and by far dispensed with the most, but each of the others, including Tren, fought like the valiant angel warriors they were.

  Another wave of fifteen Fallen was coming when Sason turned to Jayt. “Cast a grenade,” he shouted.

  Jayt shook his head. “Too close. It won’t work.”

  “Let me worry about that. Just do it.”

  Jayt pulled the pin on a grenade and timed its explosion right as the fresh wave of Fallen would reach it, just twenty feet in front of their team.

  Sason reached out his sword and focused, translating only the blast and resulting shockwave on the side facing the Fallen. Validus and his men felt nothing. Eight of the charging demons immediately dissolved to the Abyss and three others fell to the ground severely wounded. The remaining Fallen hesitated, unsure whether to attack or retreat. Neither angel nor demon had ever seen such a tactic before.

  Brumak yelled with the fury of a lion and charged into the remaining Fallen. Jayt and Rake joined him. Within seconds the Fallen were gone.

  Validus looked at Niturni, whose eyes were still cold and calculating. The demon hovered in silence, his wings slowly beating. He gave an order to Zurock, then turned and flew south.

  The fight had only lasted a few minutes. The eight stood next to each other, looking in all directions for another assault. Brumak actually looked disappointed.

  “What was that about?” Jayt asked.

  “It was about finding out who we are,” Validus said. “And I think they learned a lot.”

  Tren looked at Validus, pleased. “So did we.”

  The corner of Validus’s mouth turned up. Tren was feeling what he felt. For the first time since being assigned to Carter, they had the angels they needed to protect him. And they were the best!

  “That was remarkable!” Rake exclaimed with a broad grin. He was the first to sheath his sword. “And that grenade translation trick—where did that come from?” He looked at Sason and Jayt.

  “I never could create the reaction to initiate an explosion,” Sason said.

  “And I could never expand the concussion,” Jayt added.

  Crenshaw kept studying the skies. “I see nothing, Commander,” he said, sheathing his sword.

  “We need a name,” Rake said, still energized by the fight.

  Jayt huffed and the other angels shook their heads.

  “I’m serious. This team is unprecedented.”

  “It’s not about us,” Validus said. “It’s about Carter and about keeping the will of Elohim. There will be no name.”

  Rake shook his head. “What a shame. Hey, how about the Valiants?”

  “There will be no name,” Validus repeated.

  Validus stood so he could see each of his warriors. “This was just a taste of what’s to come. Niturni was just probing. Those Fallen we faced were not their best, not by a long shot. There will be long periods of boredom punctuated by intense struggles for life and death. We can’t afford to ever become complacent. By the time this is over, the odds are that not all of us will have survived, but I don’t want to lose a single warrior or guardian. Is that clear?”

  Validus’s words sobered them. They were not words typical of a victory speech, but he had to keep his men focused. None of them had ever seen a mission like the Carter mission. And what lay ahead was as unpredictable as Apollyon’s first sin.

  “Very well. I want round-the-clock coverage on Carter. Tren, you’ll manage shifts. Everyone cycles through except Brumak. No need to unnerve the man until it’s necessary.”

  Tren nodded.

  Validus turned his attention to the FBI building. “Let’s see what the United States government has in store for Mr. Carter.”

  8

  THE FARM

  Five days after the FBI had taken Drew into custody, he was prepped for transportation. As a precaution, and perhaps for the benefit of the FBI’s reputation, the handcuffs had been placed back on him. Two large FBI agents escorted him to the black Continental waiting to take him to the Farm, the CIA’s training ground for agent candidates. Reed stood by the car, and behind him stood light invaders Drew had never seen before. As good as Drew had become at masking his knowledge of their presence, these two made it difficult because they were staring at him as though they expected him to see them.

  The FBI escorts placed him in the backseat of the car and shut the door, locking him in. Drew watched as one of the men turned to Reed with a smirk on his face.

  “Hey, Reed, try to keep track of your gun this time.”

  “Real funny, Pruitt.”

  Reed slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door. Drew could only imagine the harassment the agent had taken for letting him escape. It would probably take a long time before either Reed or Lewis would live that down. Drew wondered if he had permanently tarnished or even ruined their careers.

  Reed drove the car off the FBI campus and onto the streets of Chicago toward the interstate. It seemed to Drew as though his two invisible companions were going to be with him for the duration. They rode in and on the vehicle as if they were guarding some precious cargo. Drew tried to ignore them.

  Drew could see Agent Reed’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He felt compelled to at least offer an apology.

  “Agent Reed, I’m…ah…sorry about how this went down for you and Lewis. I really didn’t have a choice.”

  He saw Reed look at him through the rearview mirror, but he said nothing. When Reed slowed the car and pulled over on a side street, Drew’s heart quickened. Had he ruined the agent’s career to the point of inciting revenge? How far would Reed go?

  Reed stopped the car and put the gear lever in park. He stepped out of the car, and Drew’s mind began to race through his options. The light invaders were watching Reed closely too. The agent opened the door and stepped back. He pulled back his jacket, and Drew knew he had only seconds to respond.

  “Get out, Carter.”

  One of the invaders drew his sword and looked as though he were ready to take Reed out.

  “I know you’re upset, but don’t make things worse,” Drew appealed.

  Reed squinted, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the handcuffs. He held them up. “What did you think I was going to do?”

  Drew slowly stood up, sti
ll not convinced. He held out his hands. “Wasn’t sure just how upset you were,” he said with a weak grin.

  Reed eyed Drew. “Before I take these off, let’s get a few things straight. First, you’ve been injected with a micro GPS tracker, so no matter where you go, we can find you.”

  Drew remembered one morning feeling more tired than usual. He must have been drugged. He frowned. Earning the trust of the government would be a long time coming.

  “Second, you embarrass me again or try something stupid, and I won’t hesitate to shoot you. Are we clear?”

  “Yeah, I’m clear.”

  Reed hesitated, evaluating Drew one last time.

  “Okay.” He unlocked the cuffs. “You can sit in the front with me. If Mr. Ross trusts you, then that’s good enough for me. Besides”—Reed paused and looked straight into Drew’s eyes—“I think you may be one of the good guys after all.”

  Drew nodded. “Thanks, and for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

  Reed waved him to the passenger door. The invaders didn’t relax but instead turned their attention from Reed to the surrounding streets, watching and evaluating.

  “It’s okay. Could be one the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

  Drew opened the door and looked across the roof at Reed. “How’s that?” he asked incredulously.

  Reed slid into the vehicle and Drew followed. He looked over at Drew as he buckled his seat belt. “I put in for a transfer to the CIA months ago and was denied. Now Ross wants me to watchdog you, and I get my transfer.” He put the car in gear. “Never saw that one coming.”

  Drew flashed a grin. “Back on the street in front of the church, I knew you were a solid guy.”

  Reed nodded. “I have to know one thing, though.”

  “Shoot.”

  “How did you get out of those handcuffs?”

  Drew stared out the window, catching a glimpse of a dark invader pestering a woman as she walked down the street. He looked back at Reed. “Is this a requirement to fulfill my commitment?”