DARK HEARTED (The COIL Series)

by Telbat, D. I.

  "Scooter, Johnny, drop over that wall to the hallway below. Make sure nobody is making a last ditch effort to take out the captives. Memphis and December, pound the last tower when I tell you. Bruno and I are taking it. Watch the barracks door for those stragglers. Don't forget, they have access to the armory. Over."

  Corban picked up his crowbar as he descended the stairs.

  #######

  The captives above were making so much noise—yelling out their door windows, hitting and kicking their doors—that Milk knew something was happening. He crawled from the warmth of his rock to his cell door. This wasn't the first time he'd witnessed the others acting so rowdy in the last six months, but this was the loudest they'd ever been.

  Sobbing breathlessly, he joined the ruckus, pounding weakly on the bottom of the door. Milk sobbed because it was time—time for Corban to show up. Nathan had said two meals, and two meals had come and gone. This had to be a rescue attempt!

  He pulled himself up the door, and put his ear to the little window, his frail legs trembled, standing for the first time in two days. Between bouts of yelling from his neighbors, he could hear bursts of automatic gunfire echoing down the corridor. There was a raging battle somewhere above them, but Milk could not stand and listen forever. Sliding down the door, he rested his legs, again sitting on the floor. His sleeping rock in the corner was losing its heat. When he was about to crawl back to his bed, the corridor became eerily quiet.

  Pushing upward, Milk clung to the door to hold himself up. He strained his vision to see up and down the corridor. Gunfire rattled once again above, then ceased.

  What was happening?

  A shadow came down the corridor. It was a short man in a gas mask and fatigues. Milk recognized the practiced movements of a wary commando, one he had worked with on countless missions all over the world. The man stopped in front of Milk's door then visibly counted the cells from the stairs. Eagerly, Milk waited for him to recognize…

  The masked man put his gloved hand to his ear as his eyes locked with Milk's eyes.

  "This is Scooter, Corban. I've located Milk. I'm looking him in the face… Roger that. Out."

  #######

  Corban and Bruno took the last tower. While the castle now seemed to be secure, there were several sections yet unseen. He had June stay in the southwest tower to cover the castle as Corban, with Bruno and Memphis, moved on the armory, barracks, and garage. Bruno had a gunshot wound in his left shoulder that made it useless, but he was running on adrenaline still, his rifle cradled in his right arm.

  When they stormed into the armory, they didn't risk throwing a flash-bang inside, but the storeroom was empty of men. There was a closed door that led into the barracks from the armory, and a door from the barracks into the courtyard. Bruno backed Memphis as they stood outside the courtyard entrance to the barracks, and Corban readied himself at the armory door.

  "Three…two…one… Go!"

  Kicking the door open, Corban stood clear as rounds zipped past him into a rack of rifle magazines. Suddenly, he wanted out of the armory, but he had committed himself. At the other end of the barracks, Bruno and Memphis barged through the door. The room's inhabitants were torn between two fronts and caught in the crossfire. Corban fired as he ran from the armory into the barracks, dove onto a bunk, bounced onto the floor, and landed on his back. A bullet gashed across his chest like a branding iron, but he forced it from his mind.

  He crawled under a bunk, then stood abruptly, throwing the bunk at the guards holding their ground in the middle of the room. Three guards ducked as the bunk frame nearly knocked them over. Corban rushed forward after the bunk. When the nearest guard raised his head again to fire, Corban was two paces away. The man's eyes bulged as Corban attacked. Farther down the room, Bruno and Memphis rained pellets onto the three guards.

  Jumping through the air to shove the nearest guard's muzzle away, Corban then tackled him inside the ringed barricade that was their cover. He wrestled with the guard and kicked another. The third went unconscious from the barrage of pellets. The second rose up to shoot Corban, but he collapsed from the pellets, as well. Memphis stood over him then, firing on the man that Corban had in a headlock. A misplaced pellet smacked Corban's shoulder. There was no avoiding the inhalation of vapor. Corban's grip relaxed on the man under him and he felt himself slipping. He drifted to sleep and slid off his foe in time for Memphis to finish the job.

  #######

  "Boss, you okay?" Bruno called from the door.

  Memphis flex-cuffed the three.

  "He's okay. Um, friendly fire," Memphis admitted. "Twenty minutes till he's awake, right?"

  "Yeah, but he won't be happy. Pick him up and bring him outside."

  Pulling Corban over his shoulder, Memphis took him out in a fireman's carry.

  "This is December! I hear a vehicle engine! Is that you guys?"

  As Memphis was too burdened to move quickly, Bruno spun on his heels and ran from the barracks. Next to him, the garage door broke apart as an SUV crashed out. The vehicle surged into the courtyard and turned toward the castle's closed gate. The SUV rammed into the double doors, but it didn't have enough speed for much of an effect. The doors cracked, but held sure.

  The driver's door opened. A pistol emerged first. Three deadly rounds fired into the ground as the driver found her feet. Bruno fired his NL-3 with his good arm. The shocking impact of pellets on her wrist caused the pistol to fall from Hannah McLeery's hand. She stood unarmed as Bruno skidded to a stop in front of her. It wasn't so dark that Hannah couldn't see his face from the castle's courtyard lamps. Swinging at him, she tried to claw at his eyes. He backed away and aimed at her chin.

  "I'm not afraid of you!" Hannah hissed and cursed at him in English. "Go ahead!" She raised her arms. "Shoot me. I know you won't kill me. You'll never win. First, you caught my sister, and now me. So what? You think you're making a difference? Where do you think Xacsin is right now? Abaddon will never stop fighting against you filth!"

  "Where's Xacsin, Hannah? Tell me. Who is Abaddon? We'll get them soon enough, anyway."

  "No, you won't! It's too late! Is Corban Dowler here?"

  Bruno narrowed his eyes.

  "Why?"

  "Take me to him. I have a message from Abaddon."

  "Corban's busy, but if he wasn't, he'd tell you to shut your mouth unless you have helpful information."

  "I'd like to see his face when he finds out his little blind brat is getting butchered right now. Abaddon has protected us before, but your God cannot protect your families from Abaddon!"

  With a grunt, Bruno then shot her in the throat. She choked for breath, then slumped on the cobblestone. Memphis was quick to bind her.

  "Hey, Bruno," called June from the tower above him. "What'd she mean about getting butchered?"

  He didn't know, so he didn't respond. Bruno walked back toward the barracks door where the four-wheelers were parked. Corban was positioned against the wall. Their team leader had taken a bullet in his chest plating, but he was uninjured. Surveying the castle, Bruno tried to guess what Corban would do.

  "Scooter, I think the castle's secure. The boss took some friendly fire. He'll be back around in about fifteen. Over."

  "Roger. We've got a mess of prisoners down here. Rupert, you listening? Over."

  "I'm waiting near the highway. You ready for us? Over."

  "Bring in the cavalry!"

  Bruno sat down next to Corban and doctored his own oozing shoulder as Memphis cleared the SUV from the gate and parked it back in the garage. Then Memphis went out to the checkpoint gate to raise the arm for the first of a convoy of vehicles. Government agents mingled with COIL men and women from Berlin as they poured into the castle. They all wore germ warfare suits. Corban's team relaxed as Rupert took charge and led the way to the prison levels.

  #######

  Next to Bruno, Corban stirred. He awoke calmly and sat upright against the wall to watch the commotion. Xacsin's guards were being rounded
up, identified by the flex-cuffs. Hannah was one of the first to be loaded into a police van with multiple cages. She was still unconscious, but many of Xacsin's skinheads had regained consciousness to claim their innocence or proclaim their hatred.

  "You need to make a call, Boss," Bruno said softly beside Corban. "Hannah said something about Xacsin going after your daughter. The word 'butcher' was used."

  Corban's face was grim as he pulled his sat-phone from a rib pocket. His chest was bruised and throbbing, but his pain didn't matter when it came to the safety of his family. He hit redial. It rang and rang. The answering machine picked up, but he clicked his phone off without leaving a message. After dialing another number, it rang twice.

  "Good afternoon. This is Chloe."

  "Chloe, it's me. It's an emergency. Xacsin is after my family again. That's why he's not at the castle."

  "Okay. I'm on it."

  Click.

  Narrowing his eyes thoughtfully at Rupert Mach, Corban watched as Rupert organized a number of medical aid workers to enter the compound's dungeon levels. The Berlin COIL agent and ex-spy had been in the shadows of many COIL operations, but was always there when Corban couldn't be. Like now, Rupert was quick to assume leadership.

  Groaning inside, Corban closed his eyes. Not my family, Lord. Please, not my girls.

  **~~~**

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Xacsin McLeery sighed with satisfaction as he finally heard a key in the front door. It had taken him several days to find Corban Dowler's family, but he had done it. Abaddon had helped him. He was here to bring Corban to his knees. Corban was as cautious as a cat, but Janice, his wife, had led him straight to their new residence when she had returned from Cameroon the day before. Breaking the Dowler's bathroom window and climbing into the house had been easy.

  From the living room, Xacsin moved to one of the three back bedrooms, the blind girl's room. He was humiliated that his men had had these two only months ago, but had failed to use them effectively against Corban. Now, he would get even and finish what he had started with Abaddon years ago—to destroy those who served their Christ.

  Standing against the wall, he sniffed at the air. Since Xacsin hadn't bathed in two days, Jenna, the blind girl, wouldn't be able to see him, but she might smell him. Let her smell him, he thought, as he drew his automatic pistol. Only a split second was needed. First, the blind girl, and then the wife. That's what Corban had done to him—taken everything he had worked so hard for under Abaddon. Not that he cared so much about losing the castle, or even the endeavors he'd left behind in Germany. It was the fact that Xacsin had been forced to shame Abaddon, whom he had served from his youth.

  The girl and woman were moving about the house. Xacsin had already turned the phone's ringer off, so there would be no interruptions. And if it went well with the daughter, he'd take his time with the mother. Abaddon had taught him all of that—how to hurt his enemies through the ones they loved.

  Holding his breath, Xacsin heard someone walking down the hallway toward the room in which he was hiding. Which was it? The wife or the girl? Whoever it was, walked past to another room. That was okay, Xacsin assured himself. Sooner or later, Jenna would come into her room. He had all night; he'd simply be patient. Abaddon would give him patience.

  Xacsin was born for moments like this, the purging of weakness from his race, from the world. And now nothing stood in his way. Corban had drawn all of his resources to attack the castle. COIL had probably taken the castle by now. Even if they hadn't, he knew Corban was still in Europe. All had worked so perfectly.

  The person walked back up the hallway. The footfalls were heavier than a child's steps, he thought. So, it had to be Janice. But where was the daughter? Why hadn't she come to her room?

  Panic coursed through Xacsin's body. Something was amiss. It was too quiet in the house. No radio, or television. He knew he had the right house. There was a Braille Bible on a child's desk near his knee. Maybe only the mother had returned home? Maybe Jenna had been dropped off somewhere? Fine. Taking a deep breath, he settled his nerves. Okay, no blind girl to squeeze into oblivion. It was just he and Janice.

  Leaning away from the wall, Xacsin peered down the hallway through the cracked doorway. What was this? Frowning, he saw gum wrappers littering the floor of the hallway in a line down the middle of the carpet. Gum wrappers? They hadn't been there earlier, had they? He clenched his teeth. What was happening? Perhaps he hadn't noticed them earlier when he had moved from the living room.

  No matter. They were only gum wrappers. Moving quietly into the hallway, he stepped on a couple wrappers. What was it about the wrappers that gave him chills? Feeling uncertain, he wanted to contact Abaddon for advice. Abaddon always had answers. But Xacsin didn't have time.

  With his pistol held at waist level, he crept down the hallway. Xacsin followed the gum wrappers sprinkled every few feet, leading into the living room. Passing the linen closet, he started to pass the kitchen when he craned his neck toward the living room and saw Jenna and Janice sitting together in the same soft chair. He could see their profiles as they faced something barely out of his sight, maybe the television. At last, he had them. Their end had finally arrived. It would also be the destruction of Corban's will to assist those who preached about their Jesus. This would break him!

  Looking back at the floor, Xacsin saw that the gum wrappers led directly to the chair in which the girls were sitting. It made no sense!

  "You like gum?" a man's deep voice asked sharply from behind him. "Drop the weapon. Now!"

  Xacsin flexed his jaw muscles. Cursed gum wrappers! He'd been so distracted by them, he hadn't thought to look to his right to check the kitchen! After hanging his pistol on his trigger finger, he let it drop to the carpet. It was okay. There was a backup revolver in his ankle holster. Looking up, he saw Janice glaring at him as she led her daughter out of sight. No! This was all wrong! How had he been trapped when he had come to trap them?

  Slowly, Xacsin turned to see a lean, bald man with olive skin standing against the kitchen counter, chomping a large wad of gum. Who was this man? How had Corban known to guard his family?

  Quickly sizing up the stranger, Xacsin figured he out-weighed the gum-chewer by a good forty pounds, and was taller by an inch or two. The man had no obvious gun or weapon. He stood with his thumbs hooked inside his waistband. Relaxing, Xacsin wished he wouldn't have given up his gun without checking the stranger first. But he'd win yet! This man was of no consequence—he couldn't be; Abaddon hadn't warned him about any such danger. Xacsin would dispose of this character and take care of Corban's girls yet!

  "Who are you?" Xacsin asked.

  "No one that matters, but I've dealt with your kind before. I thought I'd never get another chance to honor Mr. Dowler by safeguarding his family again. For months, I've been watching this house. Then, you came."

  "You don't even know who I am, do you?"

  The lean man shrugged and blew a bubble. The bubble popped loudly.

  "Doesn't really matter. Soon, you'll be gone, and nobody will care."

  "Just like that?" Xacsin smiled. "If you're the one who stopped my men last time they were sent for Corban's family, then I know you were shot. Are you that man?"

  "My scars won't let me forget, but I'm not overly grieved to have experienced it. It has helped me to see the important things in this life. I was an assassin, a killer like you. But God changed even me."

  Xacsin studied the ex-killer's eyes. The man seemed sure of himself. But Xacsin licked his lips, tasting triumph. There were only three yards separating the two men. He could reach down and grab his pistol before the stranger could do anything.

  "You may as well go for it," the bald man said, somehow reading Xacsin's thoughts. "I'll have to take you out, anyway."

  "I'm going to kill them," Xacsin snarled. "They've been given to me for a greater purpose. But first, I'm going to kill you."

  "Show me."

  Swiftly, Xacsin kneeled to reach
for his pistol grip. But, like a rattler, the lean man's belt buckle snapped forward. Jumping backwards, Xacsin dodged it, but the belt swept again, this time slashing across his cheek. Seconds later, Xacsin fell to his side, his arms no longer responding to his commands. Stunned, he stared up at the man over him. How had he been outsmarted?

  Xacsin was an ambassador of Abaddon! This was impossible!

  "Abaddon is my god!" he exclaimed, struggling to stand. "I thought—"

  "That…was your problem," the bald, ex-assassin interrupted, as he refit his belt. Then he moved into the living room where Jenna rushed out to embrace him.

  And Xacsin crumpled to the floor as he drifted off to sleep.

  #######

  Brauch Schlenko cleaned his glasses with a handkerchief as he stood against the wall of COIL's Berlin headquarters. Nearly all of the employees had left for the day, and the night shift, a skeleton crew, was filing in the front door. The field agents and caseworkers were already applying themselves to their normal tasks as if Operation Rahab had never happened.

  But Operation Rahab wasn't quite finished, Brauch thought to himself. At least, not for him. Corban had spoken to him privately after the taking of the castle, and told him in secret the identity of Abaddon. It still caught Brauch's breath, but he had listened carefully to Corban's evidence, and there was only one thing to be done now: expose Abaddon.

  Brauch looked up as Berlin's director, Rupert Mach, shrugged on his overcoat, and started for the door.

  "What're you doing here, Brauch? I thought you were off on some mission for Corban. That's what he said, anyway. Figured you to be halfway to Mongolia or somewhere."

  "No, this is my mission." Brauch opened the door for Rupert. "I'll walk you to your car."

  "I was thinking of putting a down payment on the old castle. What do you think?" Rupert reached in his pocket for his car keys. "We could turn it into our own little COIL fortress."

  "I'll mention that to Corban since I'll be the new Berlin director."

  Rupert stopped in his tracks, still three paces from his car. He turned to face Brauch. The wind blew flakes of snow across the lot. They seemed alone, otherwise.