First Circle Club

by Alex Siegel

  "I can't explain," Walton said, "but I'm not allowed to leave until this is over."

  "And you're sure we'll be attacked?"

  "Yes. The intruders will be looking for me in particular."

  The chief frowned. "Then call the police or even the FBI."

  "Unfortunately, I can't involve earthly authorities," Walton said.

  "I don't understand."

  "Frankly, I don't either, but those are the rules."

  The face in the night sky had given Walton his instructions. He hadn't understood the reasons behind them, and he still didn't, but he knew a game was being played for the highest stakes. He and Daniel Shipman were merely pawns on a celestial chess board. Apparently, Walton was about to be sacrificed, but he didn't intend to go down without a fight.

  "Yes, sir," the chief said, "but don't worry. It would take an army to get to you."

  Walton wasn't comforted.

  * * *

  Virgil parked the car on the side of the road. Trees hid the lower floors, but he could see the top of Ken Walton's enormous mansion. The walls were made of sandstone blocks colored an unusual blue. Two lookouts were patrolling the high roof.

  "What's the plan?" Lisa said.

  "That's a damn good question," Virgil said.

  The two of them were in the front seats of the car. Alfred and Sara were sitting in back. Detective Haymaker had decided to sit out this adventure because it promised to be very dangerous and very illegal. He was in the area though, just in case.

  "Well," Alfred said, "I can't condone running in there and shooting everybody who gets in our way. We don't even know if Walton is home."

  "Even if he isn't," Virgil said, "somebody will know where he is. Those guards on the roof are a good sign. He wants to keep us out."

  "Nonetheless, senseless killing isn't my style. I prefer words to bullets."

  "Don't be such a wuss," Lisa said. "We were sent here to do a job, and I'm pretty sure Mammon doesn't care if we send a few souls to Hell along the way."

  "I'm sure Barachiel does care," Sara said. "We are representatives of Heaven, after all. Mass mayhem is not acceptable. I'm with Alfred."

  Virgil's shoulders sagged. "Sounds like we're splitting into two teams. The wimps will try to talk their way in while Lisa and I use a more effective strategy."

  "That's probably best," Alfred said. "We'll try to meet inside."

  "You'll be captured and searched. If you have a radio or a phone, they'll take it away. You'll have no way to communicate."

  "We'll figure something out. My experience is the right words can resolve any conflict."

  "I hope you're right, but if you're not, Lisa and I will settle the matter our way." Virgil started the car. "Let's find a secluded spot where we can get ready. We'll go after nightfall. The darkness will give us a small advantage." He drove off.

  * * *

  "I'm starting to have second thoughts," Sara said.

  "I'll go on alone if you want," Alfred said. "You can join Virgil and Lisa."

  "On their murder spree? That's an even worse option. I guess I'm not allowed to sit this one out either."

  The two of them were walking down a suburban street towards Ken Walton's home. It was a dark night, but an abundance of street lamps provided more than enough light. Sara kept looking at the enormous houses on both sides of the street. Three and four car garages were typical. Some houses had columns in front like a Greek temple. Others used the peaked arches of Gothic cathedrals. She saw the places as monuments to arrogance and vanity. Merely owning such a home was a sin in her view.

  Sara and Alfred were wearing clothes but nothing else. Anything they brought with them would just be taken away. They had no guns, no phones, and no wallets. Reason and words would be their only weapons tonight. Taking the moral high ground had been easy and obvious back in the car, but now Sara wasn't as confident.

  "Have you ever killed anybody?" she said.

  "No," Alfred said.

  "I'm pretty sure I could, if I had to, but you never know until the moment comes."

  "I dealt with murderers professionally back when I was alive. They told me the first killing was the hardest, but then it became easy. I don't want it to be easy for me."

  "Same here," Sara said, "but if it was necessary, could you?"

  He pursed his lips. "I suppose. Don't be afraid."

  "Why not? We're walking into an enemy encampment run by a man who wants very much to destroy us. We have no protection but the clothes on our backs."

  "We are supernatural warriors sent by Heaven on a mission of incalculable importance. Our bodies are faster, stronger, and tougher than any human could ever be. God's love and righteousness are the only sustenance we need. The chief of the guardian angels, Barachiel, is our commander. Our enemies should tremble before us and beg for mercy."

  Sara snorted. "Just keep telling yourself that when we're being blasted to smithereens."

  She saw the front gate of Walton's home. It was an iron monstrosity decorated with the letters "K" and "W" rendered in bronze. Four men in brown uniforms guarded the gate, two on the inside and two on the outside.

  Sara stopped. One way or another, tonight's operation would end in bloodshed. Walking through those gates was like entering a slaughterhouse. She had examined thousands of corpses during her career as a medical examiner, and she had no desire to see more of them, much less participate in the killing.

  "Come on," Alfred said.

  "This is starting to seem like a really terrible idea."

  "Do you have a better one?"

  She hesitated. "No."

  "Then proceed."

  They both walked forward.

  * * *

  Walton opened his eyes wide in disbelief. The cameras at the front gate showed an older man and a thin, brunette woman approaching at a casual walk. Walton recognized them as two of his enemies.

  "Stop those two!" he yelled. "Shoot them!"

  "We can't just gun them down, sir," the chief of security said. "They don't appear threatening. Maybe they just want to talk."

  Walton gritted his teeth. "Then arrest them. Do something!"

  The man and the woman walked up to the guards at the gate and had a brief conversation. Everybody appeared completely at ease. One of the guards grabbed his tactical radio and spoke into it.

  A guard in the security control room reported, "They say their names are Sara and Alfred. They want to have a conversation with you, Mr. Walton."

  "I'm sure they do," Walton said angrily. "Have them thoroughly searched."

  The order was relayed.

  He watched as the guards at the gate gave Sara and Alfred a rigorous pat down. They were examined from head to toe. The guards even asked the visitors to remove their shoes for inspection. Everybody was very polite and cooperative, but Walton was still uneasy.

  The guard in the control room reported, "They're clean, sir. No weapons. Nothing."

  "I saw that," Walton said in an irritated tone. "What are they doing here?" Don't they know I want to destroy them?

  "Maybe you should ask them, sir," the security chief said.

  Curiosity overcame Walton, but he still wouldn't meet his enemies in person. He had a better, safer plan in mind.

  "Send the mercenaries to the gate," Walton ordered. "Have them escort the visitors to the first-floor study. I'll talk to them using the intercom."

  "Yes, sir," the security chief said.

  "And make sure the mercenaries understand this task is extraordinarily dangerous. They should bring the big guns and be ready to use them. Let me be even clearer. If Alfred or Sara merely twitch in a threatening way, I want their heads blown off."

  * * *

  "Those two," Virgil whispered.

  He pointed at two guards in brown uniforms who were patrolling a forested area in the back of Ken Walton's estate. The trees were part of a system of fences, walls, and hedges which screened the house from public view and provided security.

 
Lisa squatted beside Virgil in the darkness. He could only see her white teeth and the whites of her eyes.

  "OK," she whispered.

  To get this far, they had scaled a ten-foot brick wall, had climbed an electric fence, and had pushed through thorny bushes. The high-voltage and thorns had done nothing to their tough bodies. Open ground and surveillance cameras were ahead though, and they were a more difficult obstacle.

  Virgil and Lisa waited until the guards were reasonably close. Then they rushed forward. Virgil felled one man with a crushing punch to the jaw. Lisa took out the other with a kick which was hard enough to lift him off his feet.

  They quickly took the guards' uniforms and body armor. Virgil buckled on one guard's gun belt which had a night stick and a 9 mm semi-automatic. Virgil also put on the gun belt he had brought, and that one had two flash-bang grenades, a combat knife, and a PP-2000 submachine gun. Furies' Bane was in a bag hung across his back. He felt properly armed.

  He turned to Lisa. Her extra weapons included a .50 caliber Desert Eagle which could certainly ruin a person's day. She had also picked up a pair of authentic Chinese hook swords in Chinatown. The razor sharp blades were made of surgical steel.

  "Hold still," Virgil whispered.

  He took a tube of white oily makeup from the pocket in his old clothes. He smeared the makeup on Lisa's face and hands to make her less recognizable.

  "How do I look?" she whispered.

  "Like a woman wearing too much makeup, but it will fool people from a distance."

  Finally, Virgil and Lisa put on the guards' radio headsets. Virgil heard a stream of reports and chatter, and the clarity of the radio reception impressed him.

  He listened for a moment and then said, "Sounds like Alfred and Sara have arrived."

  "And something about mercenaries," Lisa said.

  "That's a little worrisome. Let's move."

  After dragging the unconscious bodies of the guards deeper into the trees, they continued the patrol route. They eventually emerged into a beautifully manicured flower garden. They walked along the grassy strips between the rows of flowers, and Virgil wished he could smell the blooming roses.

  Walton's gigantic house was directly ahead. Virgil saw surveillance cameras mounted on walls, trees, and poles. Squads of armed men stood before every doorway. More guards were patrolling the grounds, and they appeared very alert.

  Virgil continued to walk at a natural, confident pace. His disguise would work as long as he didn't draw any attention.

  "All this just for us?" Lisa whispered. "I'm honored."

  "It's a problem. Once the shooting starts, they'll be all over us like ants on honey. We need a sneaky way to get inside."

  She narrowed her eyes and gazed at the house. "We'll enter through the roof."

  "Huh? Did you pack a helicopter?"

  "Come on."

  He followed her along the perimeter of the lawn where the lighting was poor. They circled a huge swimming pool filled with perfectly clean water. Not a single leaf or dead bug floated on the surface.

  Lisa arrived at the side of the house where there were just small windows and no doors. Burglar bars protected the windows. Virgil didn't see any obvious way to get inside, but the wall also lacked floodlights. He could climb it under the cover of darkness.

  Lisa climbed first. She clung to stonework and window sills like a giant spider. She hurled her body upwards to get past gaps in the handholds. She ascended three stories and reached the roof in half a minute.

  Impressive, Virgil thought.

  He followed her up.

  * * *

  Sara glanced nervously at the soldiers around her. Nine heavily armed men were escorting Sara and Alfred into the house. They wore full body armor with a black, blue, and brown camouflage pattern. Helmets, masks, and night vision goggles hid their faces. The soldiers carried machine guns in their hands in addition to many other weapons hanging from belts. They moved with the crisp efficiency of professionals.

  Sara wondered what those big, heavy machine guns would do to her body. Belt ammunition was held in side boxes. A few hundred rounds fired at close range might not destroy her completely, but it would certainly tear her to shreds and incapacitate her. The idea frightened her even though she knew she would feel no pain.

  Alfred had a relaxed, confident smile. She marveled at his ability to always be so friendly. She preferred to keep her feelings hidden and other people at a safe emotional distance. Working with dead bodies had been an obvious career choice.

  The group entered the house, and Sara gasped at the expensive furnishings. Everything was white, gold, or black. The foyer had a marble staircase wide enough for an elephant. A bronze statue of Zeus was double the size of a man.

  The soldiers warily guided Sara and Alfred through the house until they entered a small library. A wooden desk and a padded chair with a tall back provided a perfect place to study. Paintings of famous scientists like Newton and Galileo were hung on the wall.

  Sara and Alfred were told to go to the desk. A device with a speaker and a microphone was there.

  A voice came out of the speaker, "Hello, Sara and Alfred, if those are your real names."

  Sara looked around and spotted a surveillance camera on the ceiling. He can see us, she thought, but we can't see him.

  "That's us," Alfred said. "We have no reason to hide our names. Are you Ken Walton?"

  "Yes. You have one minute to say what you want to say before I order my men to cut you to ribbons. The bullets in those guns have explosive tips designed to shred body armor. I expect they'll be somewhat effective against you."

  The soldiers had formed a semicircle with their machine guns pointed at Sara and Alfred.

  "This isn't necessary," Alfred said. "We were sent to stop Daniel, not you. Your man Slattery was very cooperative once he understood the situation. I'm sure you're just as intelligent."

  "He gave me up, did he?" Walton said.

  "He had a psychological breakthrough. It was a good thing."

  "Is something wrong with your intercom?" Walton said. "I'm getting a weird buzzing."

  Sara could tell Alfred was using his special voice even though it had no effect on her. His words almost sounded like music. His power apparently didn't translate electronically.

  It was certainly having an effect on the soldiers though. Sara saw relaxed postures and lowered weapons all around.

  "Never mind that," Alfred said. "Are you willing to be reasonable? We have friends in very high and very low places who might treat you well if you switch sides."

  "That's not an option for me," Walton said. "Is that all you have to say? I was hoping for a more interesting argument frankly. This is supposed to be the dramatic conversation at the end."

  "I'm not here to be witty or clever. I'm just trying to minimize bloodshed."

  "Where are the others? Surely, you two didn't come alone to take me out."

  "We went our way," Alfred said, "and they went theirs. Theirs is considerably more violent."

  "That's not very informative. If you can't tell me something useful, I'm afraid your time is up. Mercenaries, prepare to fire."

  The soldiers raised their guns.

  Alfred turned off the intercom. He faced the ring of armed men and said, "There is no need to shoot. Sara and I are completely harmless. Take off your masks and headsets so we can talk freely and privately."

  Sara could tell he had turned his power up to full blast. One by one, the soldiers complied and revealed their faces.

  "Good." Alfred smiled. "Tell me a little about yourselves. What are your names? Where are you from?"

  Sara nodded. So it begins.

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Where is Ken Walton?" Virgil growled. "You'd better talk, or I'll turn your face inside-out."

  He and Lisa had arrived on the roof to find two sentries. Lisa had knocked out one, and Virgil was holding the other by the neck.

  The man gurgled.

  "What was that?
" Virgil used his gaze at full intensity to terrify him.

  "The security control room," the sentry gasped.

  "Which is where?"

  "The basement. The middle of the basement."

  "Thank you." Virgil snarled. "Now how do I get down there without being seen?"

  "You can't. Cameras are everywhere."

  "We'll see if that's true."

  Virgil knocked out the sentry with a punch to the jaw. The body fell and remained still. Just to be safe, Virgil grabbed the sentry's radio and tossed it off the roof.

  "I'm surprised Walton is still here," Lisa said. "The smart choice would've been to run."

  "Maybe he has too much pride," Virgil said.

  "Or he's stupid."

  "I doubt that. Let's look for a safe way inside."

  They quickly found a hatch leading to an attic, but that path seemed too obvious to Virgil. They had to enter using a method the enemy wouldn't expect.

  Virgil was hearing a lot of urgent chatter on his own headset. It sounded like all the mercenaries had stopped following orders. They were refusing to shoot the intruders. Virgil smiled. Alfred is up to his usual tricks, he thought.

  The sound of an electric motor made him look at a small structure on the roof. He had assumed it was a shack, but now he was curious. He ran over, opened the door, and turned on the light.

  It was the hoist room for an elevator. A big electric motor was mounted on a steel frame over a square shaft. Greased cables ran down into the darkness. Panels on the walls held electronic controls and circuit breakers.

  "I found the shortcut to the basement," Virgil said.

  "Those cables look slippery," Lisa said

  "That won't be a problem."

  He jumped into the open shaft and dropped straight down.

  * * *

  "What the hell is he saying to them?" Walton yelled.

  The surveillance feed showed Alfred having an earnest conversation with all the mercenaries. The men had put down their guns, and their faces portrayed passionate emotion. It looked like some kind of group therapy. Sara just watched silently with thinly veiled amusement.