Without turning he keyed his coms and whispered, “There are sentries at the gate.”
“Then we go around.” Mac began to advance again, cutting to the left when Mark held him.
“They’ve got guards at each side of the compound.”
“How the hell can you know that?” Mac shot him a questioning glare.
“I can smell them.” Mark advanced slowly, his body sinking into the grass until Mac couldn’t tell where he went. With a silent curse he tried to follow the Marine’s movements. Mark popped up next to a thicket and held a casing up. “They staged here.”
Mac slipped in behind a large oak tree and hugged the trunk. “Do we take out the sentries?”
“Negative.” He brought a pair of field glasses to his eyes and studied the western fence. “There’s only one on the western side. One on the roof. If we remove them at the same time, we should have at least a few moments.”
Mitchell’s voice cut through his earpiece, “For recon.”
Mark sighed and nodded. “Copy that, OPCOM. Recon only.” He switched off his coms and looked to Mac. “Unless we find out our people are neck deep. Then all bets are off.”
“Copy that.” Mac shot him an evil grin. “Westward ho.”
The two branched to the left and eased up on the clearing facing the western fence. Mark motioned to Mac to take the guard on the roof while he took out the fence patrol. He held up three fingers and the two operators counted down.
Almost simultaneously, both carbines belched silver plated death through suppressed barrels, their receiver actions making more noise than the bullets. The two commandos slid into the fence and Mark grabbed the bottom of the chain link fabric ripping it from its ground anchors, allowing Mac to roll under. Mac propped the fabric with his knees while Mark slid under and the two made for the nearest lit building.
As Mac came to rest alongside the building he keyed his coms. “OPCOM, signal check.” He waited only a moment before looking to his XO. He shook his head and stepped to the side of the door, stacking along the north side of the entrance. “Should we switch to First Squad’s frequency?”
“Already have. It’s silent.” Mark nodded toward the door and Mac pulled it open slightly, checking for booby traps. Convinced it was clear, he pulled it open further and the two men slid along the shadows. At the far end of the warehouse they could see a plywood mockup of some kind with a small crowd of men surrounding the north side. “Looks like we’re late for a party.” He motioned Mac along the southern wall, behind crates of equipment and supplies.
The two worked their way closer, pausing only long enough to try to make out what held the rapt attention of the crowd. Mac grabbed Mark’s arm and pulled him back behind a crate. “They have them.”
“Who did you see?”
“Spanky and John. There was somebody else, but there’s too many of them between us. I couldn’t see who.”
Mark nodded. “They have at least three. That doesn’t mean they have them all. Eyes and ears open for any they may have missed.”
Mac was about to acknowledge when something fell onto his head. He swiped at it and looked upward into the rafters of the building. Lamb gave a subtle wave from the shadows. He pointed further down, and Jacobs gave a mock salute. “I think that answers your question, Major.”
Mark pointed to his ear bud and Lamb shook his head. He pointed to the group below. Mark nodded and held up two fingers. Go to alternate frequency.
Lamb adjusted his radio and Mark’s earpiece buzzed. “Delta Three and Four standing by for orders, Major.”
“What’s their strength, Three?”
“I’m counting nineteen, sir. Most are armed.”
“Flashbangs?” Mark shrugged.
Lamb nodded. “As soon as you’re in position, sir.”
“You heard the man.” Mark patted Mac’s shoulder. “Take up position behind those crates. We’ll catch them in a crossfire.” He watched as Mac worked his way further down and got set up. Mark took a deep breath and prayed that he wasn’t about to get his men killed.
*****
“Son of a bitch!” Bigby kicked a chair over in his office before shoving the laptop into its bag. He began throwing his papers into a satchel and rapidly going through the drawers of the desk that he called his to ensure anything that could be used against him wasn’t there when the shit hit the fan.
“What are you doing?” Martinez stared at him as he hurriedly threw things into a duffel.
“I’m getting the fuck out of here.” He jabbed a finger at the man. “You’d be wise to do the same, mate.”
“Why? We have them. Don’t you see? We can order them to send us Ms. Simmons in trade. We can ensure her safety, and they’ll never know that we were about to attack.”
“Are you daft?” Bigby tossed the computer bag and satchel into the duffel and zipped it tight. “Those blokes aren’t exactly stupid. I’d bet your left nut that others are already on their way.” He glanced through the window of the office leading to the back of the facility. “If they’re not already here.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Martinez leaned against the counter and chuckled at him. “We have their communications blocked. They can neither send nor receive any—”
“And what would you assume if you lost coms with your team in the field, eh?” Bigby tossed the duffle over his shoulder and made for the window. “I can’t believe you’re a warrant officer and you’re that stupid.”
He fought with the painted over lock and pulled his knife to pry the latch. “I’m getting the fuck out of here now.”
“I knew you were a coward.” The venom in Martinez’ voice was unmistakable.
Bigby paused and turned, the knife glistening in the low lit room. “I’m many things, mate. But a coward isn’t one of them.” He pointed out the door with the tantō blade. “You have no idea what you’ve done out there, do you? Each of those men are worth twenty of yours. And how many do you have left?”
Martinez squared his shoulders. “I’ll show you what they’re worth. I only need one of them alive to trade for Senorita Simmons.”
“Ha. I hate to break it to ya, mate, but she’s mated now. I believe she’s Señora Mitchell, yeah?” He turned back and jammed the knife blade into the frame of the window.
“I do not care who she is mated to. I only care that she is unharmed.” He turned and threw open the door then turned back to Bigby as he fought with the stuck window. “You can run like a woman. I will deliver Mister Simmons his daughter. And I will be sure to tell him of your behavior this night when we were on the verge of our victory.”
The window thrust open, and Bigby grunted a sigh of relief. “You do that, mate. I’ll send someone to slice onions at your funeral so that folks will cry.” He gave him a sarcastic wink before hefting his duffle up and out.
Martinez stepped out into the crowd and lifted his hand to get their attention. “We only need one of them alive to trade for Miss Jennifer. Choose the ones to die.”
*****
Brooke stepped through the portal and sighed with relief. The sun wasn’t up yet. She didn’t know why, but she felt like they had been gone for days rather than hours. She practically dragged her feet as the group trudged back to the hangar. A familiar scent wafted near and she knew he was close before he spoke.
“I’m going to see if I can run the shower out of hot water. How about you?” Kalen gave her his best brilliant smile.
Brooke smiled back out of habit. She couldn’t help herself. The white haired, golden skinned fellow was starting to grow on her. She chuckled to herself as she thought, like athlete’s foot. She shook her head. “I think I’m just going to collapse in bed and sleep the day away.”
“An excellent idea.” Azrael strode past her, his long legs carrying him further with each step. Kalen noted Gnat riding the gargoyles shoulder, his eyelids heavy.
“So, um, you want to get something to eat before…” Kalen paused realizing his faux paus. “I mean…” he
sighed. “I’m sorry. I just thought maybe…”
She held him back by his arm and gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay. I know what you meant.” She glanced ahead to Chief Jack and the others, ensuring they were out of hearing distance. “I meant what I said before, Kalen, we can’t pursue this.”
“And I meant what I said. I fully intend to.” He gave her a crooked grin and a shrug. “I can’t help myself.”
Her brows knitted together with frustration. “Why, Kalen? Why can’t you just drop it?”
“Have you ever had anybody enter your dreams before? I haven’t. And yes, I admit it frightened me at first. But once I realized it was a first for you as well, I knew it meant something.”
“Yes, it was a warning. It was telling us to stay away.” She pushed away from him and began marching toward the hangar with renewed vigor.
“Wait, Brooke.”
“Raven!” She spun on him, her finger in his face.
Kalen slid to a stop and stared at her wide-eyed. Her anger shocked him, but his reaction shocked them both even more. Without realizing what he was doing, he reached up and took her hand, pulled it to his face and kissed the tip of her finger.
Brooke stepped back, her mouth hanging open as she stared at him. He held her hand gently and slowly kissed her fingertip once more, his eyes probing hers as he did so. He smiled to himself as her fangs descended as though spring loaded.
She pulled her hand away and covered her mouth, her eyes wide. “Just stay away, Kalen. I mean it!” She turned and ran toward the hangar as fast as she could without raising too much suspicion.
Kalen watched her, his breath caught in his throat.
*****
Samael touched down on a wooded mountain top, the boulders and outcroppings acting as a wind block as he laid his queen on the ground. His great arms shook as he took in the extent of damage her body had taken.
She lolled like a ragdoll as he stepped back and checked for signs of life. He knew she must still live or he would not be on this plane of existence. He watched her chest rise and fall as she took a shallow breath. “Glory be,” he whispered.
Samael summoned what little strength he had left and ran his hands over her broken body. He concentrated on her broken bones and internal injuries, the green glow lighting the early morning like a neon sign. “Please come back to me.”
“She will live.”
He spun and stared at his brother standing above him on the rock outcropping. “Why are you here, Azazel?”
“Why do you think?” He squatted upon the rock and cocked his head to the side, studying his brother clothed in dead flesh. “Michael has sent me yet again.”
Samael grunted and waved him away. “I’ll not hear any more of his prophetic proselytizing.”
Azazel laughed and sat upon the rock, his feet swinging below him. “He’s not trying to convert you, brother. He simply wants you to see what will be.” He stared down at the broken body of Lilith and noted the drying blood across Samael’s back. “You both are a mess.” He hopped from the rock and slapped his hand to Samael’s back, eliciting a hiss from him as his hand emitted a bright green glow.
“What are you doing?” His voice was a low, deep growl.
“What do you think? I’m healing you. You don’t have the strength to heal yourself much less your wench.” He pulled his hand back and placed it upon Lilith’s forehead. Her entire body began to glow a bright emerald green as Samael staggered to his feet.
“Do not call her that.” He steadied himself against the rock that Azazel had appeared upon. “She is…more.”
“I’m fully aware of what she is, brother.” He stood and studied his handiwork. “As I said, she’ll live.”
“Does Michael expect me to bow and scrape to him now?”
Azazel sighed and leaned against another boulder. “Your hatred has closed your heart and your mind, brother.”
“I refuse to believe that all we have worked for is for naught.” He leaned back and screamed to the heavens. “You’ll not stop me, Michael! She shall reign over this speck of dust as queen!”
Azazel shook his head and drug a sandaled foot through the dust and pine needles. “Are you finished?” He pushed off the boulder and walked past Samael. “Michael wanted you to know that the ass whooping you took earlier is just the first step. Very soon the hunters will be joined by one who hates Lilith more than you care for her.”
“Impossible.”
Azazel turned and gave him sad eyes. “You don’t remember all of the evil the two of you did before, do you?”
“I remember every glorious moment,” Samael stated proudly. He thrust out his chin defiantly. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about what we did.” He averted his eyes then hung his head. “Except…maybe…the end.”
Azazel sighed. “Remember one named Allister? You cursed him at her behest.”
Samael’s brows knitted in thought. “No, the name escapes me.”
“The two of you never escaped his thoughts. He’s spent millennia planning revenge. And now he’s about to join forces with the hunters.” Azazel placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “If you truly care for her, depart from this plane, never return. Allow her to rule some other planet…some other dimension. Never return here, Samael. It brings only death, destruction and heartache.”
Samael pushed his hand off and stepped back. “Tell Michael I won’t be swayed. We follow through with our plans. She will rule this world.”
Azazel shrugged and loosed a heavy sigh. “You were warned, brother.” He stepped away and shook his head. “More than once. There’s nothing else I can do.”
Samael opened his mouth to utter a string of epithets when Azazel disappeared in a green beam of light. He stepped forward to where he once stood and felt the ozone in the air. He turned his head to the heavens once more and narrowed his gaze. “We won’t be deterred.”
*****
“Bob, Director Jameson wants to see you.” The intern dropped a stack of folders on his desk and Bob looked up to watch the man walk away.
“That’s Agent Stevens to you,” he muttered under his breath as he collected his briefcase and shut down his computer. He glanced at his watch and knew that the director couldn’t have been in the office more than a few minutes. He had surely discovered that his office was left open. Had he somehow known that it was him? No…security would have come for him. Did he want Bob to try to discover what the intruder wanted? He found it difficult to put away the things on his desk as his hands began to shake.
Bob stood and looked about the small cubical. He knew he was supposed to go out in the field with the NSA group that afternoon, but to be called to the director’s office so early? It had to be tied to the break in. He silently cursed himself for leaving the door unlocked. How stupid could he have been to be so blatant?
He stepped off the elevator and nearly tripped over his shadow as he made his way to the corner office. The receptionist barely glanced up to see him before buzzing him in. “He’s waiting for you.”
“Th-thank you.” Bob cleared his throat, silently kicking himself for allowing his voice to crack to someone as unimportant as the receptionist. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Closing the door behind him, he walked to the director’s desk and stood in front, waiting to be acknowledged. The director was reading something in a file and didn’t look up. “Have a seat, Stevens.”
“Thank you, sir.” Bob quickly sat and found that his hands were trying to outdo each other in fidgeting.
Eventually, Director Jameson dropped the file on his desk and stared at him. “Do you know why I called you up here?”
“I assume it’s because I’m going out with the NSA group this afternoon, sir.”
Jameson leaned back in his chair, his eyes probing the smaller man. “Try again.”
“Uhh…was something missing from my report, sir?” Bob shook his head, doing his best to act confused.
“Nope. Str
ike two.”
“Strike…uh…I’m not following you, sir.” Bob gave a sheepish grin. “Is there something specific you wanted?”
“I’m going to ask you one more time. Do you know why I called you up here?” Jameson leveled his gaze on the man and expected him to crack at any moment.
Bob swallowed hard and shook his head. “No, sir, I don’t.”
Jameson rocked back and forth slightly, waiting for Bob to blurt out something, anything that verified his culpability. The room was completely silent as Director Jameson continued to stare at him. Bob sat silently, waiting for the man to speak again.
Jameson inhaled deeply and leaned forward. “Stevens, somebody broke into my office last night.”
“Oh my…I hadn’t heard.” He found himself having difficulty breathing.
“Whoever it was went through my desk, tried to access my wall safe, and went through my computer.”
Bob nodded. “I see. And you…what? Do you want me to see if they got anything from your computer, sir?”
Jameson shook his head. “No. There’s nothing on my computer for anybody to get.” He nodded toward the wall. “Anything of any use would be in my safe.”
Bob glanced in the direction he indicated and nodded. “I see.” He swallowed hard. “So…if they didn’t get anything of value, why did you want to see me, sir?”
Jameson cracked a slight smile. “Well, Stevens, whoever it was that broke in here, didn’t realize that I have a camera hidden in my office that is set to a motion sensor. After I leave and shut down my computer, if anybody enters the office, it sets off that camera.”
Bob nodded, instantly sweating in places he shouldn’t. “Okay…”
“The only problem is, whoever it was…I can’t see his face.”
“And you want me to clean up the video so you can?”
Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8 Page 3