Homecoming (24 page)

“No, I mean about what I do when I’m in the field.” He looked away, unable to look his Team Leader in the eye.

“It’s the same thing any of us would do.” Spalding pushed off the doorjamb and held the door. “To be honest, I would expect nothing else.”

John watched as Spalding tipped his cap and pulled the door shut. “Be on the grinder at 0600.”

*****

Damien drove until he felt he was close enough. Rachel continued to grow agitated the closer he got to the city proper and he couldn’t risk her losing control, not when they were this close. He pulled the Scorpio off the main road and onto a country lane. He continued to drive until he found a small villa away from any populated area. He saw a lone light on from a distance and he pointed to it.

“There, you can wait for me there.”

She looked to the structure and simply nodded. He drove closer and turned off the lights to the car, his eyes immediately adjusting to the gloom. He pulled the car closer and shut off the engine, allowing the vehicle to coast closer in. “They have a van you can use.” She pointed to the side of the building and Damien seemed more than pleased. The van had the name of some vineyard written on the side and there were no windows. If he couldn’t make the connection tonight, he could pull the vehicle over and sleep in the back until the sun went down again.

“Perfect.” He stroked the side of her face with his hand. “This is providence, you know.”

She gave him a sad smile. “If you say so.”

“I do.” He opened the door to the car and stepped out into the chill night air. Inhaling deeply he walked in a small circle. “We are so close, my darling.”

“Yes, we are,” she answered quietly. Her eyes kept darting to the building ahead and the lone light shining within.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, teasingly.

“I could eat,” her voice purred soft as satin upon his ear.

“Then go. Fill yourself while I do what I must. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He walked to the van and wanted to whoop for joy when he found the keys sitting in the ignition. “Stupid country bumpkins.”

She slid up next to him and kissed him good bye. “They would have given them over once I ripped their throats out, my love. This just saved a few steps.”

“So true.” He kissed her again and quickly slipped behind the wheel. “Have fun, but…try not to play with your food too much.” He shot her a wink as he pushed the clutch in and let the vehicle roll away from the building before starting it.

Rachel watched as he drove away into the darkness then turned and stared at the building before her. She stepped tentatively toward the lit window and peered inside. She saw a middle aged couple getting undressed for bed. Apparently the work of a vineyard keeper was long and tireless. They both looked exhausted. She watched as the man slipped under the covers and gently kissed his wife goodnight.

She reached for the light when the sound of a baby crying cause them both to slump. She gave him a withered smile, and he crawled out of bed once more. Padding into the other room, he quickly returned with an infant in his arms. The woman quickly prepared a bottle of formula while he soothed the crying baby.

Rachel watched with mixed emotions. Part of her wanted to slip into the building and end their meager existence. To drain them now before the hunger grew out of control. But another part, a foreign part…the part that cause her cheek to be wet with fresh tears on the drive here…that part wanted to drive a stake into her own heart for desiring the blood of the crying infant in the woman’s arms.

She continued to watch the couple as the man hummed an unfamiliar tune and the woman rocked the baby while feeding it a bottle. That tiny part of Rachel that had infected her with a shred of humanity screamed at her to throw herself on the first pointed piece of wood she could find rather than harm the child…but the hunger in her stomach demanded she fill the need.

She doubled over with pain as she cursed the very ground she walked on. What is worse? To destroy this family one person at a time? To allow herself to be destroyed?

She kept asking herself these questions…questions she had never fathomed before, questions she had never even considered before, right up until she found herself standing outside the bedroom door.

13

Tufo had just finished briefing the selected personnel who were going to Thorn’s island to assist Thompson with his op. He didn’t like this cloak and dagger shit, but it had to be done. As he wrapped up the quick instructions, he asked the men if they had any questions.

Gus Tracy quickly raised his hand. “Gunny, I…er, I meant, Major. I don’t understand why we don’t just ask Jack. I mean, he used to be one of us. Surely he’d still—”

“Negative,” Mark interrupted. “That’s a last case scenario situation there.”

“Why?” PoPo asked. “I’m with Gus on this one. Jack would be the one I’d go to if I needed Thorn’s pad checked out.”

“I understand your thinking, and trust me, the colonel and I have gone over this more than once. If you boys don’t find anything, then we probably will go to Jack. But if we can locate and retrieve the notebook without his knowledge all the better.”

Gus shook his head. “Look, Major, I realize I don’t have the history with the chief that the rest of the men have, but he seems like a real stand up guy.”

“Agreed, but if we go in there and accuse his boss of stealing from us? Especially something that is potentially a Doomsday Weapon to
all
supernatural creatures, including ourselves? He’s liable to take it very personally. We don’t want to go upsetting the status quo unless we have to.”

Tracy nodded. “Understood, sir. We’ll keep it classified.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Mark stood and headed for the door. “There’s a good possibility that you, Wallace and Apollo will be the only ones going there. We had to choose who
not
to tell about this. So don’t even share it with your comrades, understood?”

“Understood, sir,” Tracy repeated.

“You can count on us, Major,” Popo responded.

“Thank you. Now go act like you were doing something productive.” He shooed the men out the door and headed back to his office. “One step closer.”

*****

Paul poured another cognac and slid it across to Rufus. As he poured his own he eyed his brother, pouring over the stacks of books and papers. “Tell me something. In all your years, have you ever encountered somebody like this ‘Lilith’?”

Rufus looked up from the tome he was reading from and placed his pen down. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I asked.” Paul took his seat and placed the snifter on the table. “In all your years, you’ve encountered all types of creatures. Great and small, powerful and weak. But have you ever encountered something like her?”

“We’re not even sure what she is yet.”

“I realize that, but that’s also part of the answer. There are all types of creatures that we can’t be sure exist, but they are in lore. Have you ever encountered any like that?”

“Like?”

Paul shrugged as he slowly spun the snifter in his hand. “I don’t know. Like, dragons or leprechauns or a minotaur or…” he shrugged again.

Rufus nodded and pushed the cognac aside. “Dragons and leprechauns are real. Though I’ve never had to deal with them directly.”

“Truly?” Paul was suddenly fascinated.

“Truly. But the minotaur? I don’t think any of them have existed in many, many centuries.”

“But they did?”

Rufus shook his head. “Who knows for sure? I don’t see why not.”

“Amazing.” Paul took a long pull from the cognac then set the snifter aside. “So, if these other mythological beings are real, are the legends about them true as well?”

“To some extent, yes.” Rufus spun his book around and flipped some pages back showing a pencil drawing of a dragon. “This is very close to what they look like in reality.”

“And they still exist?”

“In very small numbers, yes.” He tapped the page, “They are nearly extinct now and live almost entirely underground. Those who dare venture above ground, do so only at night to hunt. I doubt many of them can even fly anymore.”

“And the rest?”

“The rest of what?”

Paul slid closer, his eyes wide. “The rest of the mythologicals? Are the stories about them true?”

“For the most part.” He sat back and studied Paul. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Well, it just occurred to me, we’re looking for the things that each story has in common about Lilith, right?”

“
Oui
.”

“What if all of the stories are true?” Rufus raised a brow in disbelief and Paul quickly added, “Bear with me. What I’m saying is what if all of the stories hold a grain of truth? What if all of the things are true, but the parts that are obviously conjecture we dismiss?”

Rufus nodded. “Go on.”

“Well, it just seems to me, that for the Lilith legend to have had enough of an impact on each of these cultures, they would have had to have had some interaction with her, right?”

“It would stand to reason.” Rufus was starting to see where he was heading with his line of thought.

“So what if we try to implement all of the solutions that the stories tell?”

Rufus shook his head. “There are too many, and we simply do not have the resources to…”

“No, I don’t mean that we try to kill her with each of them.” Paul quickly stood and pulled a small book from the stack. “Here, this one says that Lilith prefers the blood of men and the flesh of infants.” He tossed it aside and pulled another, “This one says that she prefers the blood of
young males
. See the trend?”

“
Oui,
commonalities.”

“No, wait. You’re jumping ahead.” Paul pulled another book. “This one says that she can possess the body of whomever she pleases…” He reached across the table and slid the photo of Damien with the unknown woman across to Rufus. “Possess the body.”

“You think that perhaps…”

“What if the woman in this photo,” Paul tapped the photo in front of Rufus with his nail, “is actually Lilith? Possessing someone else’s body?”

“So, Damien isn’t trying to resurrect her?”

“He’s trying to reunite her.”

Rufus studied the photograph in front of him and slowly a smile crossed his features. “If we can truly prevent that, then we can destroy her once and for all.”

“How so?”

“This body? It does not have the ‘mark’ from God.”

*****

Laura screamed as the plane fell from the cliff and felt the meager contents of her stomach lurch as the increase in velocity caused the plane to suddenly lift and soar away from the canyon floor. “Oh, my God! We didn’t die!”

“Like I said, I’ve only crashed twice. And actually, they were little crashes.” Mick smiled as he accelerated the craft and brought it up to a level cruising altitude.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Laura could almost feel herself turning green.

“Not in
this
plane you’re not!” Mick spun in his seat and quickly handed her a barf bag. “I just installed this interior.”

Laura held it close to her chin while her insides tried to find their original location and settle back where they were supposed to be. Jennifer leaned back in her chair and with a sing-song voice called out, “You okay back there?”

“I’ll live.” Laura leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. “I think.”

“So, no chance you’d want to do that again? Just for fun?” Jennifer was playing with her, but Laura felt too wrong to be baited.

“How long before we get there?” Laura croaked.

“You might as well settle in. We’re looking at about fourteen hours.”

“Are you serious?” Laura groaned.

“Here.” Mick handed her a canned lemon soda and some crackers. “This will help settle your stomach. And yes, including our stop for fuel, we are looking at about fourteen hours in flight time.”

“Great.” Laura cracked open the soda and took a sip. At least it was cold. She sighed heavily and leaned her seat back. She suddenly sat up. “But the squads in Brazil aren’t expecting us. Does anybody have a phone that will work?”

Mick handed her a phone that looked like a brick with an antennae. “It’s a satellite phone. It may be big and heavy, but it will stay charged for weeks and it will get signal just about anywhere.”

“Thank God.” Laura began punching numbers. “I need to check in with my boss and have him arrange things with the Brazilians.”

Mick glanced at Jennifer. “Are you sure about this, Squeak?”

Jennifer nodded. “I need to do this. Her boss? He may well be my Fated Mate.”

Mick’s mouth fell open and he stared at her for a long moment. “Are you sure?”

Jennifer turned away and stared out at the passing terrain. She nodded slowly.

Mick’s hands gripped the steering controls tighter and his mouth set in a hard line. “Well, no sense in keeping your future husband waiting, is there?”

*****

Sheridan sat behind the wheel of a black minivan, the windows tinted so darkly that nobody could see inside. Apollo wedged himself into the rear seat and watched him from behind. “Where we going?”

Sheridan placed his cane in the passenger seat and turned to face the large man behind him. “We aren’t going anywhere. I just wanted a more private place that we could talk.”

“Man, you better not be wasting my time here.”

Sheridan held his hands up. “I’m not. Just hear me out.”

“Talk fast, little man.”

“Since our little incursion in the desert, I’ve been making contacts with some very powerful people. People who would like nothing more than to see your bosses fail.”

“Why’s that?”

“They have their reasons. And like you, their reasons are personal.” Sheridan shifted in his seat so that he could look Apollo in the eye. “These are powerful people with resources that you and I could only dream of. They have a small army at their disposal. Wolves, like us, willing to lay their lives on the line for them.”

“So why do they need us?”

Sheridan gave him an evil smile. “Why not recruit us? Face facts, friend, any time you can recruit one of the enemies own? Have a man on the inside? You’re one step closer to being done. You’re one step closer to wiping him out entirely.”

Apollo leaned back in his seat and eyed the wily little British traitor sitting behind the wheel. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why do you think? Jack fucking shot me in the foot. With a silver bullet. The only time I’m not in total agony is when I shift.”

“You shift?”

“Hell yeah, I shift. I stopped taking that crap right after they put my family into hiding.” Sheridan took a moment to calm his self then began again. “Look, Apollo, you have access to information that we simply can’t get. I know. I’ve tried.”

“What you talking about?”

“Jack’s location!” Sheridan nearly shouted. “We can’t find this stupid island that he’s living on. I recruited some of my old mates from the squads, and they couldn’t get that information before they left either.”

“Wait a second…” Apollo held his hands up to stop him. “Your old squad mates
left
the team to join you?”

The corners of Sheridan’s mouth curved slightly. “We arranged for them to appear dead, but yeah. Apparently, losing a squad mate from time to time is acceptable.”

Apollo scratched at his chin while he thought. “So, you want me to join your merry little band of misfits, but first find out where Jack’s island is, and then fake my death?”

Sheridan shrugged. “You can do it however you like. Get us the coordinates, and stay with the squads if you want. Pretend you’re still a part of them. And when the time comes, help us mow them down.” He pulled a bundle from the glove box and tossed it to Apollo. “Or you can walk from them now, not tell them a thing and just become a part of us.”

“What’s this?”

“Money. What do you think it is?”

Apollo made a face and tossed it back at him. “Man, I ain’t doing this for no damned money.”

“A man still has expenses.”

“Maybe.” He reached for the door and pulled it open. “I’ll call you when I got the coordinates to the island. You just make sure somebody is nearby to pick my ass up.”

Sheridan smiled and gave him a mock salute. “Welcome to the team.”

Apollo glowered at the man as he slammed the door shut.

*****

Matt picked up the phone on the second ring. “Mitchell.”

“Matt, this is Jay. Lisa said you called with a pretty tall order.” Matt recognized the old tanker’s voice the moment he spoke.

“Jay, good to hear your voice.” Matt shifted in his chair and reached for the mouse on his computer. “Tell Lisa I’m sorry to hit her up out of the blue like that, but this was a short order sort of thing.”

“She said you’re wanting silver plated thirty caliber rounds for a belt fed machine gun?”