Light of the Last

by Chuck Black

  The suicide bombers were still too far away to cause the damage they wanted. Drew knew he had only seconds to save lives, but it would cost him his own. Screams of panic rose up, and some of the people in the outer courtyard of the bistro started to run into the restaurant, which was exactly what the terrorists wanted, right into the first suicide bomber’s trap.

  As Drew closed on the bomber coming into the courtyard, he looked for a dead man’s switch, but the bomber’s hands were holding open his coat and were free from any devices. It left only two other detonation options. The explosions were set to go off on a timer or they would be remotely triggered by an observer. Based on how the bomber tried to display his explosives to herd the people back into the restaurant, Drew guessed a remote detonator.

  In less than a second, Drew pulled his FN and fired one shot aimed just above the bomber’s vest, being careful not to hit the charges and set them off. The bullet penetrated the man’s upper chest, but before he could fall, Drew lowered his shoulder and plowed into him, wrapping his left arm around him and lifting him into the air.

  Just five feet behind the bomber was a line of parked cars on a side street. Drew took two steps and then hurled the man over the top of an SUV, hoping that the terrorist with the remote detonator was focused on the first bomber, who was just now approaching the entrance to the bistro. All Drew needed was three more seconds. The man’s body flew across the hood of the SUV and slammed onto the pavement.

  In the fraction of a second that it took for Drew to reverse his momentum, he saw Validus’s massive warrior charge an attacking monster across the street. Drew dove back over the black iron fence toward Sydney, passing right through another light invader with his sword stretched out, ready to engage the multiple dark invaders surrounding the bomber.

  Drew hit the ground beside Sydney. A waitress had joined her behind the table, shielding her. He careened into the brick wall of the bistro, unprotected by the table. He covered his ears as the pressure wave ripped through the air around them.

  Once Validus understood the Fallen’s plot, dread filled his soul. He had been outmaneuvered by his brilliant nemesis. The suicide bombers were protected by eight Fallen each. The closest threat to Carter was the bomber coming from the side street. Sason was closest, but he would soon be outmanned. Two demons engaged Validus as he tried to make his way toward Carter.

  “Brumak, Rake, cover Carter! Persimus, you protect Carlyle. Jayt, Crenshaw, get to the primary bomber and take him out.”

  Validus cut through one of the warriors facing him and allowed Tren to take the second one, which freed him to move toward Carter and Carlyle again. He was almost to them when he heard Persimus cry out a warning just before translating into the form of a waitress.

  Validus looked up to see Zurock jumping from the roof of the bistro to engage him. Validus had just enough time to raise his sword and deflect Zurock’s powerful vertical cut. Precious seconds were lost as he saw Carter attack the bomber to save Carlyle. The Fallen had planned it well, and Validus knew he was about to lose both of them.

  As if the Fallen weren’t advantaged enough, a droxan materialized through the wall of the shop next door and charged Rake, Sason, and Brumak as they tried to give cover to Carter. Brumak didn’t hesitate. He diverted to take on the droxan single-handedly as Sason and Rake took on the other Fallen guarding the bomber.

  The explosion shook the earth and broke all the windows in a one-hundred-foot radius. The concussion hurt, but the SUV and the other parked cars had taken the majority of the blast, protecting the people in the courtyard. Smoke, fire, and shards of glass were everywhere.

  But the worst of the threats was yet to come.

  Drew crawled toward Sydney, wondering where the waitress had gone. He pulled Sydney from the ground and pushed her toward the side street.

  “Run, Sydney. There’s another bomb. Run!”

  Sason translated two thirty-degree segments of the blast, which instantaneously dissolved six of the eight Fallen who were attacking. Rake’s sword flew at the speed of lightning to deflect large pieces of metal and glass that would have impaled Carter and killed him instantly. Validus tried to disengage Zurock, but the regional commander would not give. Brumak’s battle with the droxan was a sight to behold. Screeches of the demonic beast mingled with the war cries of one of Elohim’s holy and mightiest of angels.

  Every one of Validus’s team was engaged in a life-and-death battle not only for themselves but for Carter and Carlyle. The heroic efforts of his men had helped his charges narrowly survive one suicide bomber, but how could they survive a second?

  Sydney was dazed and bleeding, but it didn’t look serious. She stumbled out of the courtyard across the twisted metal fence. Drew ran toward the front street. He looked through the broken windows of the bistro and saw the first bomber standing at the entrance of the restaurant fifty feet away, dazed and unsure as mayhem ensued. To Drew it looked as if the bomber was scared and losing his nerve.

  Drew spotted Validus engaged with one of the most vicious dark invaders he had ever seen. Validus broke away momentarily and pointed toward a parked car just seventy-five yards up the street.

  Drew crouched near a lamppost and took aim at the man sitting in the driver’s seat. There was no way for Drew to determine if the man was just a spectator watching a disaster unfold or if he was a terrorist with his finger a microsecond away from pushing a button that would kill many innocent people. If Drew ran toward the car and the man did have the remote detonator, it would be over before he could get within fifty yards.

  He scanned the area and saw that every light invader was engaged. Tactically it looked like the two dozen dark invaders were set in a perimeter to protect the suicide bomber and the man sitting in the car, and yet…

  Drew considered the shot. It would have to be a perfect head shot, and it would have to be quick. If the observer thought the suicide bomber was losing nerve and might not enter the restaurant, he would detonate immediately.

  Drew’s mind raced through the calculations, estimating distance, bullet drop, and deflection from the glass of the windshield. The last was the most unpredictable. He figured the first round would shatter the glass and his second round would be the critical one. If he missed, he and thirty to forty more people would certainly die.

  It was the moment of decision. Two pounds of pressure on the trigger was all that separated Drew from killing a terrorist or an innocent bystander.

  Drew saw a dark invader racing toward him out of the corner of his eye.

  Validus was desperate to free himself from Zurock and take out the bomber. The terrorist was hesitating because of the premature detonation of the first bomb. At fifty feet away, Carter was just on the edge of the lethal radius. If the bomber went inside the bistro to kill more people, Carter’s survivability would go up, but a lot more people would die. A demon was trying to push the bomber toward Carter and not into the bistro, which confused the man. The observer sitting in the car down the street was the key.

  Validus countered Zurock with a powerful cut and took a fraction of a second to point out the observer with the detonator to Carter. Validus then maneuvered toward the bomber. He saw a demon abandon his protection of the observer and attack Carter.

  “Jayt!” Validus screamed.

  Jayt deflected a slice from his opponent and then in one swift movement drew a knife, rolled, and let it fly silently toward the attacking demon. It struck at the same moment the sound of an FN Five-Seven shot rang out.

  Drew squeezed the trigger and then followed immediately with four more shots. He didn’t wait for the results but instead turned his aim on the bomber who was just entering the door. He had to get the bomber away from the people, no matter what had happened to the observer.

  “Back away from the door!” he shouted. “Now!”

  Drew nearly lost his nerve as a dark invader that looked part beast, part warrior screamed past him in the direction of the observer’s car. He noticed that none
of the light invaders even tried to stop it. Drew refocused on the terrorist.

  The man turned, and Drew could see that he was just a teenage boy, a victim of radical extremist brainwashing. Sweat and fear covered his face.

  “Your observer is dead. Back away from the door and lay down on the ground!” Drew shouted as he took a few slow steps toward the teen, his FN leveled at the terrorist’s head. He shouted the command again, but this time in Arabic.

  The boy let go of the door and slowly backed away. He began talking quickly in Arabic as tears streamed down his face.

  “On the ground!” Drew shouted.

  The teen complied.

  “Don’t move!”

  Drew shouted orders to the people in the bistro to leave the restaurant through the back exit. He cleared the street and waited for the police and the FBI to arrive. When the SWAT team arrived, he briefed the captain and let their bomb squad take over.

  Once the explosives were controlled and the terrorist was in custody, first-response teams arrived on the scene to treat dozens of wounded. Ambulances and fire trucks followed soon after, and of course, a half dozen news teams.

  Once the bomb threat had been eliminated, Zurock disengaged, and he and his demons retreated.

  One by one Validus’s men came to him. Brumak looked to be in the worst shape. His left arm was bleeding badly where the droxan had torn chunks of flesh away. Persimus immediately began dressing the wound.

  “This is bad, Validus,” he said as he translated a bandage wrap from an EMT and quickly covered the wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

  Sason was the last to arrive, walking slowly. All of them were dealing with wounds, but when Validus saw Sason’s cloak, he knew something much worse had happened.

  “Commander,” Sason winced. “I think you’ll have to finish this without me.”

  Validus reached for him as he collapsed to his knees. He gently laid the wounded warrior on the ground and opened his cloak. Blood was everywhere.

  “No, Sason,” Validus pleaded. “Rake, get me water!”

  “No, Commander. You and I both know this is over.” Sason grimaced and lifted a hand. Validus grabbed it, his heart aching with remorse for not having been prepared for this day.

  “It was an honor serving under your command, sir,” Sason said.

  Validus’s hand slowly collapsed around the blue wisps of vapor that floated upward toward heaven. Sason had warned him about not having enough warriors to counter the threat, and he was the one who paid the price.

  Validus’s hand became a fist. This was what he hated most about command—the pain of loss because of his decisions. Every time it happened, he vowed it would never happen again. With deep sorrow, he lowered his head and remained still for a moment.

  He fought the temptation to wallow in the agony of the moment, knowing his men needed him to rise above his selfish sell-pity. He slowly stood, looking into the war-torn faces of his team. They all stood in the silence of respect for a fallen brother.

  “This great loss will not be forgotten,” Validus said. He looked at Brumak, his arm bright red with soaked gauze.

  “I’ll be fine, Commander. Tomorrow I will fight two droxans if need be.”

  Validus nodded. He turned and led them toward Carter and Carlyle.

  “Men, as hard as this has been, this encounter is what we have been waiting for. As long as these two are together, there is great opportunity and great risk. Stay sharp. We may not be clear yet.”

  12

  PROTECTING THE ASSET

  Before the news crews started filming, Drew found the lead FBI agent.

  “Agent Kalua, I need to get out of here before the news crews set up. I’ll file my report and be available for any questions you have.” Drew nodded toward the SUV taking off with the terrorist inside. “The CIA is going to want a turn with him once you’re done.”

  “Sounds good, Agent Carter. And nice work,” Kalua said. “A lot of people owe you their lives today. And that shot on the observer was one in a million. Gutsy.”

  Drew nodded his thanks, then turned and saw Sydney being treated for minor cuts on her legs from the glass shrapnel. He recovered most of her purse, which had been blown up against the wall near the table she’d hidden behind, then made his way toward her.

  “She doing okay?” he asked the EMT.

  She nodded. “She’s in good shape. A lot better than most that were out here.” The EMT picked up her bag and moved on.

  Drew took a moment to look for Validus. The invader had gathered his men and was coming toward them. They looked bloody and battered. It had been a fierce battle for them, but Drew sensed a soberness that transcended the weariness of war. Someone was missing.

  “Can you move, Syd? We need to get out of here.” He offered her a hand.

  Sydney took his hand and stood up. She looked determined, but as she rose, he felt her legs give out. He grabbed her around the waist and she held on.

  “I’m okay…just a little dizzy.”

  “Take your time.” Drew held her tight until he felt her strength return.

  She looked up at him and nodded. “I’m good now.”

  When Drew turned to help Sydney to his car, a thin, dark-haired woman with penetrating brown eyes shoved a microphone in Drew’s face. He had seen her before on one of Chicago’s news programs. She was sharp, gutsy, and full of moxie. Her name was Sophia Bryant, and something about her caused people to believe her, no matter what their political affiliation. Drew remembered thinking that she would be working for FOX or CNN before long—she was that good. Her cameraman was filming just a few feet away.

  “I understand you’re the man who thwarted this terrorist bombing. Who are you, sir, and did you suspect a terrorist attack here today?”

  Drew immediately turned his back to the camera.

  “Please quit filming,” he said with a side glance to Bryant. Of all the news crews, he wasn’t surprised that she was not only first on the scene but had pinpointed exactly where to start the story.

  “We just have a few questions for you. The people of Chicago need to know.”

  Drew held on to Sydney and tried to walk away, but Bryant and her cameraman would have none of it.

  “Are you FBI?” Bryant asked. “Do you know of more attacks planned?”

  Drew realized he had only one option. He turned and looked straight into her eyes, ignoring the camera.

  “Miss Bryant, please don’t film me or ask me questions.” He pointed to the camera without breaking eye contact. “If you put my picture on your news station”—he paused, pouring as much honesty and warmth into his gaze as he could—“you will greatly jeopardize the security of this nation.” He lowered his head slightly. “Please let me do what I’ve been trained to do—protect the people of Chicago. I respect you and your station. Please do the same for those of us who are putting our lives on the line for you.”

  Bryant’s probing eyes softened, and she slowly dropped the mic. She made a cut motion to the cameraman, then looked at Sydney and Drew. “Okay, mystery man, I’m going to trust you.”

  Drew nodded. “Thank you. And I’m going to trust you.”

  Bryant flipped a business card out of her pocket and handed it to him. “You ever want to feed me a story that would, well, do the people good to hear, give me a call.”

  There was a gleam in her eye that caught Drew by surprise. He took the card and slipped it into his rear pocket. “Thanks.”

  Bryant nodded, then grabbed her cameraman and dove into getting coverage on the bombing.

  Drew led Sydney to his car, which was parked a block and a half away. He was extremely aware of Validus and his force of warriors providing guard just a few feet away from them. Unlike their usual mode of operation, the invaders didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were nearby.

  Drew started driving, but he wasn’t sure where to take Sydney. She was still stunned and in mild shock…silent.

  “Where should I take
you, Syd? Do you want to go back to your apartment?”

  “No. I want to go wherever you’re going.”

  Drew’s plane back to Philadelphia left in two hours, but he wouldn’t be on it. He drove back to his hotel and booked a room for one more night. He got a suite with a separate room so he could be near Sydney if she needed him.

  Inside the room, Sydney sat on the couch. Four light invaders were nearby, two in the room and two outside. Drew guessed there were probably more on a perimeter watch. Their actions alone told him Sydney was key to whatever operation they were running. He had never seen such consistent attention before.

  It was early evening, and the light coming through the window began to fade.

  “I have to make a couple of phone calls, but I’ll be right back,” he said. “I promise you’re going to be okay.”

  Sydney nodded.

  Drew stepped out of the room and called headquarters. After quick elevation up the chain, it was determined that Reed would fly out to help Drew in the follow-up investigation. Drew cancelled his flight home and stepped back into the room. Sydney was still sitting on the couch, motionless.

  Drew sat next to her, and she leaned into him. He wrapped an arm around her and held her for a long time, until she quit trembling. A few minutes later, her heavy breathing told him she was asleep.

  He held her for half an hour more, then carried her to her bed. He eased her shoes off, covered her with a blanket, shut off the lights, and closed the door to her room most of the way so she wouldn’t be disturbed by any noise he made.

  When he turned around, Validus was still standing guard at the window, but the other invader was gone. Drew had never seen the mighty invader so concerned when there were no dark invaders in view.

  Drew stared at the back of the hulking warrior. “Why did they attack today? Was this all because of Sydney?” he whispered. He knew the warrior’s ears were more sensitive than his own.