by B.V. Bayly
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Get up!” Nate was shaking Gabriel’s mattress.
“What is wrong with you?” He pulled the covers over his head in protest. “The council meeting isn’t until this evening … no need to get up!” He poked back out and checked the clock beside him. “Five thirty! Man, don’t you remember what' sleeping in’ means? We don’t even get up this early at the ranch.”
“You did sleep in! I could have come here at four when I was awake.” Nate grabbed him by the head and shoved it into his pillow.
“Alright!” He flailed at Nate and missed. “Man, I was having a good dream, too!” He kept the sheets around his waist.
“About a brunette Brit, I don’t doubt.” Nate laughed, tossing Gabriel his jeans. “Get dressed!” Nate stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him.
He staggered out of the room, still half asleep. Nate held a tall glass of hot tea up to his nose for him to sniff. “Tastes awful, but it’ll help wake you up.”
Having no energy to argue, Gabriel choked down the hot liquid. It sent shivers through his body and his face scrunched up involuntarily as the aftertaste hit him.
“You'll be wide awake once that kicks in!” Nate gave him a pat.
He burped up something awful. “If it stays down.”
They headed out of the sleeping quarters, towards the exit. Gabriel must have swiped his badge two dozen times, before they got outside. Normally, moving around the facility wasn’t difficult, but security had turned from cautious to a full-out hassle in preparation for the council meeting.
“I’ll be happy when this is over.” Nate pointed at a little red car. “Let’s get out of here.” He smiled, pushing Gabriel around to the left side of vehicle as they approached it. “Other side, sleeping beauty.”
They left the compound, passed through the last security checkpoint and turned onto a wide stretch of road. Gabriel nestled into the small front seat to catch some more sleep.
Nate laughed. “That won’t last.”
Gabriel ignored the comment, but soon the effects of the drink raced through his body. A minute later he sat up. “So, where have you been?” This was the first time he had any one-on-one time with Nate in the two weeks they had been in St.Petersburg.
“Busy sorting out the mess we left back in Denver.”
“How’s that going?”
“TERA’s expanding … eating up everything to do with the ore. Heard you blew up the lab or something.”
“That wasn’t my fault.” He put his hands up in defense. “Blame Osho.”
“He was pretty excited about the whole thing. Heard you’re no longer considered an exile.”
“The cardinal changed his mind, did he?” Gabriel laughed. “Apparently, now I’m useful.”
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry so much about you. I’m just happy you can deal with the black stuff.” Nate smiled at him.
“It was a small shard – knocked me across the room. Anything bigger would be a problem.” He wasn’t excited about the results. “You believe the rumors about what they are doing with the black ore?”
Nate shrugged. “Developing some kind of ore weapons? Probably nothing to worry about; if Osho can’t crack that technology then I doubt anyone else can. The black stuff is highly explosive and unstable as hell. Even if you could weaponize it, you’d blow yourself up just handling it.” Nate imitated the explosion with his hands. “Like when we first started to dig it out. We lost so much machinery.” He laughed.
“Should have left it in the ground. I would be back with my family. Who knows where you would be.” Gabriel shook his head.
They turned into a large abandoned stone quarry. The air became thick with dust as the little car came to a stop at the back of a hollowed out pit. A small table was already set up overlooking several targets: black paper silhouettes in different positions at various distances from the table. Gabriel stepped out of the car and followed Nate to the trunk.
“I know it’s been awhile, but I figure it’s time you remembered how to use one of these.” Nate took out a pistol and placed it in Gabriel’s hand.
His heart quickened as the cold steel touched his skin. He hadn’t handled a gun in months. The two of them had a history of training days – practicing shooting and fighting on the ranch. Even Adin took part back in his younger days.
“Come on.” Nate led him over to the table. “You remember the rules: Don’t point it at me or yourself, always at the ground. Only put your finger on the trigger when you’re ready to shoot, otherwise keep the safety on and your finger off. We only go out to the targets together and the guns stay at the table, unloaded.”
“I remember.”Gabriel nodded at the familiar instructions and turned towards the targets. He couldn't hide his smile as Nate explained the weapon.
“Got some new toys today. Little different from the rifles at home. That is a HVP Mark 6. Your standard military sidearm. The design on handguns hasn’t changed much since the cowboy days.” He pointed at the pistol. “Basic grip, firing hammer, and barrel. Now, what has changed is what is inside.”
Nate took the handgun from him and dismantled in seconds, laying the pieces on the table.
“The grip holds a hydrogen cell that feeds the magnetic rings in the barrel of the gun.” Nate picked up the barrel and handed it to him along with a small flashlight. “You see the rings inside? High powered magnets. These are what accelerate the bullet, making any drop in distance negligible.”
“So … point and shoot?” Gabriel was eager to move past the theory lesson.
“No. You need to get used to the rhythm of the recoil as you fire, but just focus on aiming … one shell at a time.” Nate slid the barrel and the grip together, showing Gabriel how to release the slide on the barrel. He then picked up the magazine and popped out one of the shells for him to look at. “Alright, your magazine works on a simple rotator. You can hold 25 rounds. To load it just keep pushing the shells down and to the right until you can’t anymore.”
“Easy enough to remember.”
“Now the bullet. Technology has made them smaller – thinner – but they still have the same hitting power as the old school copper heads. Gunpowder in the casing, with accelerants painted into all the grooves along the bullet.” He pointed closely to the thin black lines swirling down the head of the bullet. “These are like little rockets, causing the bullet to spin even faster. This, combined with the magnets, is how the bullets get to such a high velocity. Those are the basics. Let’s do some shooting.” Nate winked at him.
Gabriel stared down the thin sights of the pistol. He tried to remember to stay loose.
“Squeeze the trigger – don’t pull it.” Nate hovered beside him.
The pistol rocked back as the first round was fired. His arms weren’t ready, spoiling his aim as he shot.
“Move with its rhythm. Let your arms absorb the shot and put the pistol right back to where it came from.”
He focused on Nate’s instruction.
He kept his eyes on the target – letting his body move with the gun as it kicked backward towards him. The pistol came right back to where he had started.
“Beautiful.” Nate clapped. “Center of mass. Good shot.”
“Thanks.” He focused, sending another round at the black target.
“Good. Again. Faster.”
Two more shots. His arms held steady, absorbing the kicks and returning the pistol to his sights each time.
“Alright. Now, 25 yard target. Three quick shots. Take a second between each shot, make them count.”
One. The shot glowed as it left the barrel. Two. Gabriel breathed out. Three. Eyes on the target. The black target bucked backwards, as the final shot landed just inches from the other two.
“You’re picking this up fast. Let’s change it up.” Nate pulled the pistol from his hand, replacing it with an assault rifle. "Get into a kneeling stance."
“Like this?”
“Yeah,
that’s good. Kneeling shots give you three points to be stable on.” Nate gave him a shake. “Good. Feel yourself get pulled down into the position. You and the ground are the same thing.”
Nate pressed the butt of the gun into Gabriel's shoulder.
“Tuck it in, don’t let the recoil move you as much on this one. It’s not a pistol and it’ll kick a lot more. Keep rigid – strong. Send out the rounds in bursts. Stop to aim and evaluate each time.” Nate slid the clip into the bottom of the weapon. He flipped off the safety. “25 yards! Fire!”
The rifle rattled in Gabriel’s arms as he squeezed the trigger. He tightened his grip. He focused, breathed out, and hit the black cut-out with a spray of bullets.
“50 yards!” Nate barked.
Gabriel twisted. He kept his toes and knee dug into the dirt, not lifting anything. The gun’s small lunges tested his grip as each bullet left the barrel.
“Again.”
He stayed focused. Breathe. Stance. Squeeze. The bolts of light found their target.
“Think of your home!” Nate knelt beside him. “Fire!”
Gabriel shook his head, refocusing on the black target. The rounds left the gun abruptly, shaking his grip, hitting the target low.
“Think of your brother!” Nate bumped him. “Fire!”
Two more shots hit the black target, but Gabriel could feel his aim was off. He tried to ignore Nate’s shouting.
“They took Adin! Shoot them!” Nate’s shout echoed in the empty quarry.
Thoughts flooded into his mind. He took aim, trying to remember his list. Breathe. Squeeze. The round of shots set him off balance. He shifted his position.
“Faster! Your brother is in trouble! Faster!”
He couldn’t ignore the thoughts of Adin filling his mind. Round after round kicked up the dirt around the target.
“Again, kill that target! Hold down that trigger!” Nate commanded.
Gabriel’s arms filled with tension as he held down the trigger. The continuous fire threw off his aim. He failed to adjust. The gun jumped around as he tried to stare down the sights. Then it stopped. The final casing clinked to the ground beside him as it exited the chamber. He breathed out, his chest rising and falling. Nate carefully took the rifle from him. His hand was sore from the grip. He glared at Nate.
Nate cleared his throat. “Every bullet you send down the barrel carries a thought with it. If you can’t control that, you can’t control the shot. It’s a tough lesson.” He took the magazine out of the rifle and set both down on the table.
“Where is he?” Gabriel faced him.
Nate breathed out and shrugged. “We don’t know.”
“Have you even been looking?”
“Of course, we’ve been looking!” Nate glared back at him.
“Well, give me something! Give me a reason to not think he’s dead!”
“No one has filed a missing person’s report. His apartment is still in his name. TERA moved his vehicle into long term storage. They paid him last week! All his bills were paid on time this month!” Nate threw up his hands in frustration. “The systems all say he’s alive and active, but we can’t find him. No pictures, nothing. Not a glimpse of him anywhere.”
Gabriel shook his head. “So, I just have to wait? Wonder if he’s out there somewhere? What am I supposed to do in the mean time?”
Nate pointed his finger. “You do everything you have to, so we can go home.”
Gabriel stayed silent, grinding his teeth
“We push ourselves. We fight. We take down whatever stands in our way. We do what the Church needs us to do, then we go back home. They’ll make sure we are safe. And once we get there, we will find him. No matter what! So, don’t you give up!” Nate reached out and hugged him. “Don’t ever give up.”
Gabriel grabbed him, his lungs quivering as he drew in a deep breath. Nate was right. Everything here was temporary. This wasn’t his home. He needed to fight. To never stop until he found Adin. Until they were both home.
It was late afternoon by the time they returned to the facility. There was a buzz of activity as everyone prepared for the council’s arrival that evening. Gabriel spent most of his time with Nate and Osho, helping them gather notes and documents to present to the council. When it was time, the three were summoned from Osho’s office and preceded to the church’s main sanctuary. They descended a small set of iron rod stairs, deep below the huge cathedral.
By the time they reached the meeting room Gabriel was dizzy, lost by the maze of corridors and guard posts that they had past. Security was tight.. They were instructed to sit and took their spots around a large stone table that must have been built in the room. There was no way it could have fit through any of the doorways. The room was supported by perfectly shaped stone blocks that stretched into massive columns and peaked in a vaulted ceiling. A fire roared in the enormous fireplace on the side of the room, giving the cold stone a more comfortable temperature. Another door on the far side of the room was closed. The two sentries posted on either side eyed everyone who entered the room.
Father Clarence and Cardinal Vincent nodded as they took their places at the great table. More people arrived. Some faces were familiar to Gabriel. Most were not. They took seats at the great slab of stone or lined the walls on small wooden benches.
Claire entered. She managed a discreet wave before taking her seat. “Where were you today?” she mouthed.
Gabriel rolled his eyes and pointed at Nate.
He turned back to the table to find Nate looking at him. “Pay attention.”
The room quieted as the door everyone had entered through was shut and locked from the outside. At the same moment, the guarded door on the other side of the room was unlocked and opened. The guards in the room stood at full attention. Five men strolled through the doorway. Each looked older than most of the people in the room. Silver hair peeked from under their crimson caps. The Patriarchs all wore long crimson robes with gold rosaries hanging down from a small waist pocket. They took their spots around the table in an orderly fashion, each allowing the one to his right to sit before seating himself. Following behind the Patriarchs were a group of black-robed monks, shaven bald and carrying leather cases with ropes attached to them. They each stood behind a Patriarch and set the leather case on the stone table, opening it up for the Patriarch.
He remembered the quick lesson Dr. Osho had given him on the council. “There are always only five of the nine Patriarchs at the council meetings. The other four remain hidden, in case disaster strikes the meeting and the five are killed. The remaining four would elect a fifth member and the council would continue to function while they searched for new Patriarchs.”
The monks called out their superior’s name in sequence from left to right.
“Patriarch Romaniski.”
“Patriarch Laurent.”
“Patriarch Schmidt.”
“Patriarch Goodwin.”
“Patriarch Milani.”