by Michael Todd
I may be noticing men, but I haven’t lost all track of my personal morality. I think you can be assured there will be no threesomes or foursomes in my future. One at a time is enough for me, and probably very spaced out.
Pandora sighed. Hey, it was worth the shot. I mean, I can’t find the sky if I don’t shoot for the moon.
I’m not sure what that means, but I don’t think the saying is correct.
Whatever. You know what I meant. So, how about that dozen donuts?
Katie got up from the table and threw away her trash, wiping her hands on the napkins. She walked next door and grinned as the woman grabbed a dozen box, anticipating her. Katie held up two fingers, figuring why not go for the gold? She ordered one dozen hot glazed and the other assorted, as well as several bottles of milk.
The girl behind the counter giggled. “We all had a friendly bet on whether you would get some to go. You never let me down.”
“You know it.” Katie smiled, throwing a tip in the jar. “See you soon!”
I thought we were doing a dozen? Pandora asked carefully, not wanting her to change her mind.
Yeah, but I figured we would eat one now back in the room and then go to sleep. That way when we wake up in the morning, we’ll have a dozen for breakfast before we start our watch. It’ll be one hell of a sugar rush, but I think we’ll need it with the day we have ahead of us.
You’re becoming a better human with every day that passes.
Calvin rolled his shoulders as he drove along, the scenery somehow a lot less interesting than when Sofia was there. A green sign on the side of the road told him he was just ten miles from the United States border. He had entered a small town, one that focused on tourists and travelers crossing the borders. There were bright signs everywhere, and enough restaurants to cater to anyone and everyone in the little town.
He pulled the car into the parking lot of a local motel. The woman at the front desk barely looked up as she took his money and handed him a key. Calvin’s plan was simple. Rest up and prepare for the next day’s events.
He parked the car in front of his room, grabbed his bags, and hauled his ass inside. Once there, he closed the curtains and opened the duffel bag, laying out his guns and ammo. He had enough to put a dent in whoever was at the border waiting for him, and he knew he could deal with what he had. After all, if worse came to worst, he would be able to take weapons off anyone he killed.
When he was satisfied his loadout was in good order, he zipped the bag and leaned back against the headboard. He looked around the room at the old bright-green carpet, the peeling wallpaper, and the large box tv set in front of him. It definitely wasn’t the Pacifica, but the bed was clean and soft enough for a good night’s sleep, and he knew he wouldn’t overdo it there.
This has been an interesting trip to Mexico, Marty remarked. I’ve only gone across the border once before, a long time ago when people were all about Tijuana.
Calvin chuckled. They still are. Only difference now is that it’s mostly for illegal shit, and there’s always some crazy story about a missing American being found over the border stuffed full of bags of cocaine. Not really my idea of an awesome vacation.
That sounds disappointing. At least they have tacos, which is probably the best food I’ve ever had. Then again, I’ve always been stuck in weird bodies like this one dude who had a wheatgrass obsession. That was not a fun ride.
Well, I tell you what… You help me beat these assholes in the morning, and I’ll make sure you get a whole bunch of tacos before we leave.
That sounds like a great deal to me, but they better have some kick to them.
Calvin chuckled. I think I can handle that.
He was taking a page out of Katie’s How to Negotiate with Your Demon book of tricks. He had seen her do it a million times with Pandora and a box of donuts.
For his demon, all it took was the golden promise of tacos.
Brock sat on the edge of his bunk in his boxers and initialed white T-shirt, shining the last scuffs out of his boots. All around him his team were maintaining the weapons and protective gear they had rolled into battle with. Luckily for most of them, it had been so quick that barely anything got scuffed.
Unfortunately for Brock, he had rolled around through the dirt and grass with one of the bastard demons, so he pretty much had to go through each piece of his kit with a fine-toothed comb.
Everyone was tired. They all had dark circles under their eyes, their bodies were sore from combat, and their racks were calling their names. The rest of the platoon was still out finishing up some sort of assignment for the higher-ups. Suddenly, everyone jumped to attention as the captain marched through the front door.
“At ease, boys,” he told them, waving them off with the folder he was carrying. “You’ve made the error of showing us that you’re more than capable soldiers. For your crimes, you have been assigned to advanced training. Suit up and meet in the center courtyard in fifteen minutes. There will be three helicopters waiting for you. It’s been a pleasure serving with you men. Good luck out there, and stay alive.”
The guys waited until the captain had left the room, but as soon as the door shut they burst into loud speculation about their new assignment. They had all been pretty happy where they were, top of the barrel for the platoon, given special chow and PT treatment, and not having to do the tedious bullshit around the base. This would throw them right back into the newbie ranks.
“I knew we shouldn’t have been such badasses in the last beat-down. Now we gotta get accustomed to everything all over again,” one of the guys grumbled.
They had no choice, though. They were the best of the best. When they’d gone out to that incursion they had proven their abilities, and they had definitely been noticed.
Brock personally didn’t mind. The higher he climbed, the better. He’d grown to like being out in the field, and he knew that advanced soldiers got their fair share of battle time.
The guys collected their gear and put it on, each pulling out a sack and packing the rest of their belongings inside. Brock helped strip beds, throwing the sheets into laundry bags before he lined up with his group and headed out of the barracks. In the dark distance were three lit-up helicopters waiting especially for them. Several other teams were standing by to board, having been chosen as well.
Brock pulled his duffel farther up on his shoulder and smirked, ready to get out there and kick some demon ass. This wasn’t a game anymore.
He had moved up into the big leagues.
Chapter Twenty-One
Katie gulped some milk from the fridge and grimaced at the clock. It was six in the morning, earlier than she’d ever dragged herself out of bed before. She sighed determinedly and reached for the donuts.
There was a huge job at hand, and the demons weren’t going to kill themselves just so she could sleep in. At least she had all that sugary goodness in the fridge to kickstart her day. A knock at the door drew her attention from the donuts and she opened the door, expecting to see Angie.
“You’re up— Oh, sorry.” She stared at one of the precinct cops from across the street. Between his pristine uniform and his earnest demeanor, it was obvious he was a rookie. She could almost smell the green on him.
The rookie smiled nervously and held out a couple of badges on lanyards. “Good morning, ma’am. This is your special security badge for the event. It will allow you to move along the parade route freely. Otherwise, they’ll stop you every five feet. The second one is a weapons permit. It will let the Secret Service and the others know you have the right to fire your weapon if needed. That one comes in really handy after you’ve fired your weapon, so don’t lose it.”
Katie nodded astutely. “Got it.”
“If there’s nothing else, you’re all set. Holler if you need anything, and good luck out there today.”
She glanced at the badges and gave the rookie a bright smile. “I think we’re good, thanks. Good luck to you guys, too.”
Katie
closed the door and took a closer look at her permits. They gave her official clearance to operate, which was useful but ultimately irrelevant since she was going to stop the demons with or without a permit. The politics and regulations of it all meant less than nothing to her, but she would play along if it made her job easier. She wanted the paycheck, and even more, she wanted to make sure those bastards didn’t get anywhere near the President.
She slipped the lanyards over her head and went back to her room to finish getting ready. She strapped the holsters for her big-ass guns around her legs and slid Tom and Harry in carefully. The small pistols on the dresser went swiftly into her side holsters, although she hoped she wouldn’t have to use both. Last but not least, she grabbed the two halves of her staff and slid them into the sheaths on her back in case Tom and Harry failed her. The staff was always her go-to in the heat of battle. She had worked hard to become one with the weapon on the hill in Vegas, and she wasn’t going to forget about it because of her two new toys.
When she was done, she twisted her torso from left to right to make sure she had a good range of motion going on around all the weaponry. She was locked and loaded, but she didn’t want to be overloaded. What good would all those weapons do if she couldn’t turn her body to grab one? When she was sure she was set, she threw on her black coat, leaving it unbuttoned.
The way it hung on her reminded her of Damian’s signature trench coat, and it made her wish he was there with her. He would be all kinds of wound up over the whole angel/demon thing she had going on.
She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and gave herself a nod of approval. If anyone did pay attention to her, which she thought was unlikely in New York City since they were all focused on themselves, it would look like she was wearing fatigues under the coat. It was perfect, and she would blend in nicely—at least until the bastard demons decided to show up.
Then she would unveil her badassery.
Katie headed out of the hotel and pulled her coat around her to stop the breeze from blowing it open as she walked toward Times Square. Her earlier assumption had been right. Nobody paid her the slightest attention.
When she rounded the corner into Times Square, she stopped and stared at all the people who had already arrived. The place was filling up fast with excited patriots. They gathered along the barriers, waving their Stars and Stripes as they waited for a five-second glimpse of the man. This was a bad thing in Katie’s eyes.
First of all, your leadership structure is bullshit, and it does not work the way all you Americans think it does, Pandora bitched. Secondly, it does not surprise me a bit that the demons chose now to start amping up the fight. After all, the last election showed them that humans are even stupider than they had originally thought.
Careful there, soapbox speaker. I’m actually a human.
You didn’t vote for the idiot, and yes, I checked.
I didn’t vote at all.
Why should you have? The pool was dank and shallow this election season. I mean, come on! This guy is a joke. All he cares about is money. He lied about global warming, he lied about working with other countries off the books, and he lied about giving two shits about the people here. And to put the fucking cherry right up there on top, he did it so badly that a two-year-old could figure it out.
Katie chuckled, not used to hearing Pandora be this passionate about something other than donuts. She didn’t interrupt her, because it would do no good. When she was in that state of mind, all Katie could do was let her get it out of her system.
Then there are these religious folks saying he’s the second coming of Jesus. Come on, now. Little do they know, he’s just Moloch’s puppet. He doesn’t even know it. Sure, he’ll support the fight against demons in public. It’ll get him re-elected. But he doesn’t give two shits about the fight as long as he comes out on top with his pockets stuffed. The second coming of Lucifer is more like it.
You really hate this guy.
Sweetie, it’s nothing personal. I have hated every single President who has rolled through this country. I watched the last one with popcorn, sitting on my throne. Everyone’s favorite guy, but no one noticed him illegally bombing other countries on the sly. It’s all a crooked mess. But I digress. It’s not like I voted or anything.
I get it. A lot of people feel that way; more than there used to be. It’s like a middle group popping up, not supporting one side or the other.
Yeah, they’re called Progressives, and they’re idiots too. Politics just blurs everything up. Be free, roam like a chicken, do what you want to do when you want to do it. That’s my mantra.
Katie snickered. These days fewer chickens are free-range, and more are kept in cages until they die. Just saying.
Typical. Pandora sniffed.
I’m not here to judge their performance in office. I’m merely here to stop the terrorism that will occur if they’re killed. The guy could be the biggest asshat on the planet—
He is.
It doesn’t matter. I will still be out here doing my job. No one wants to see the President killed, but I have to focus on what would happen if he were. Chaos. Pure, motherfucking chaos.
Well, yes. I remember the last time it happened.
Exactly. It’s the last thing America needs right now, and I won’t let it happen on my watch.
“Here are the keys.” Calvin set the keys on the counter and put his heavy bag down on the floor.
The car rental clerk behind the counter nodded and scooped up the keys. “Very good. Just give me a minute to do the inspection, and we will get you out of here.”
“Thanks.”
Calvin waited by the counter while the clerk went out into the parking lot with his clipboard held tightly in his hands, and a serious look on his face. Calvin sighed and looked down at the bag by his feet. He just wanted to get the whole thing over and done with so he could go kick some drug-lord ass.
When the clerk finally came back, he headed straight behind the counter without saying a word. Calvin was ready to be lectured for the hard miles he’d driven in the rental.
Instead, to Calvin’s surprise, the clerk took a pile of bills from the till and handed it to him. Calvin looked at him strangely.
The clerk smiled. “We usually put the deposit back on the customer’s card, but you paid cash at one of the other facilities that allows that, so here you are—your deposit returned in full.”
“That’s great. Um, thanks.” Calvin was shocked he was getting his deposit back at all, much less in full, but he took the money.
The clerk nodded and looked down at the computer while he typed for a moment. “I noticed that no one dropped you off, sir. Did you need me to call you a cab?”
“No, thanks,” Calvin replied. He picked up his bag. “I’m on foot from here.”
The weapons Katie had arranged to be sent clinked reassuringly in his bag as he walked out of the car rental place. It was time to fuel up. He stood at the edge of the road and scanned the street. He spotted a small restaurant down the block and made his way over in the hot sun, feeling like his bags weighed more than his body. Inside, he sat down at the counter and had a cup of coffee and a Spanish omelet with rice.
When breakfast was done he went into the bathroom, locked the door, and set his heavy bag on the counter, then opened it and began to unload all the weapons Katie had arranged to be sent. He didn’t see his armor, but he figured it was too short of notice to have it shipped with the weapons. Besides, if he did get hit, it would probably be by so many bullets at once that the armor wouldn’t do him any good anyway. He shook the thought off and made sure each gun was fully loaded before strapping it on. He stuck two of them in the harness he’d found in the bottom of the bag.
There were no more weapons in the bag. Whoever had packed it had to choose wisely, so when his ammo ran out he would just take the enemy’s. He stuffed his pockets with clips and looked into the mirror at his makeshift readiness.
I never thought I would see a day that
you found facing a group of humans more intimidating than battling demons.
“Yeah, well. When it’s a demon, I don’t have to think of the mother whose son I just killed.”
You think demons don’t have mothers?
Calvin had no response for that.
Before leaving, Calvin reached in his back pocket to make sure he had his passport, which he would need to get back home after taking care of the infestation at the border. He was ready to kick some bad-guy ass, and ready to get back to his life. Sofia’s dark eyes flashed through his mind, but he rolled his shoulders and pushed the image away for now.
The border wasn’t far, and he was ready to face Manuel and his men without unneeded baggage, emotional or physical.
The men lined up in the lower level of a parking garage not far from Times Square. Each of them was simply dressed in a t-shirt with the President’s face on the front, a distasteful ruse to disguise them in the crowd. It wouldn’t matter what they wore, once their demons took over. There were no special weapons, detonators, or bombs to conceal.
Just the human sacrifices.
The leader stood before them, his face shrouded to hide his identity. He leaned on his cane while he shared some last words before he released the demons. “The demon plague has been unleashed upon America as Allah’s punishment for their sins. You have been chosen to deliver that punishment. There can be no greater honor than to give your lives to wipe Western corruption and depravity from this Earth so all may bask in the glory of Allah. Allah thanks you. He will stand beside you when you reach the afterlife, and you will be rewarded for your sacrifice. Your names will be spoken throughout the world! You will be heroes! Come, it is time. May Allah be with you all through the fear.”