Coalition of the Damned - 03 (16 page)

Max studied her for a moment and then nodded. He didn’t like it, but it was their business, not his. What did he care if she told the human that he had knocked her up?

“There it is.” Spalding pointed to his right. “Our facility is in the back, away from prying eyes.”

Max looked over at the large military complex spread over many acres. Inactive airplanes parked by the roadway on display for the world to see. He noticed the fence around the property and thought that it might keep out a human, but could never keep out a wolf. Perhaps it was only decorative?

“Are there places for wolves to run?” Max asked.

Spalding looked up the mirror again, his brows knitted in question. “Uh, no, not really.”

“Grandfather knows that you are all wolves, yet contained by the bane,” Nadia informed Spalding.

He visibly blanched. “Great. Another top secret classified military covert operation just thrown out to anybody…” he mu
ttered.

“Relax, pup,” Max growled. “I am wolf as well.”

“I gathered as much, sir,” Spalding sat upright at his voice. “No disrespect intended, sir.”

He continued to drive them through the gates and on back to the southeastern portion of the facility to the oversized hangar where the Monster Squad called home. As Spalding approached the front doors of the hangar, the guards outside the hangar saw his approaching vehicle and opened the doors, allowing the SUV to drive up and inside the dark interior of the metal building.

Darren pulled the SUV all the way to the back of the building, past the numerous people packing away their gear and getting ready to move to Nevada. He stopped the SUV and shut off the engine. “Be it ever so humble…” he said as he stepped out. He opened the door for Natashia and Nadia. Max stepped out from the other side and looked around the facility.

Matt and Laura approached from elevator doors, smiles across their faces. “Tasha, I hope your trip was fruitful,” Matt said.

“I believe you will be pleased, Colonel.” She purred. She turned to Max and said, “Colonel Mitchell Matthews, may I introduce Maxwell Verissimo, my father-in-law.” Both Matt and Max shot her a confused look, brows raised.

Matt extended his hand. “Matt Mitchell. I’m the Comman
ding Officer here, and this is Ms. Laura Youngblood. She’s my Executive Officer.”

Max took Laura’s hand and poured on the charm. He kissed the back of her hand and his eyes never left hers, a soft smile across his lips as he did so, “Charmed.” He whispered as he bowed to her. Laura felt a slight flutter in her stomach as his lips brushed her hand but she did her best to maintain her comp
osure.

“Mr. Verissimo, it is very nice to meet you.” Max nodded to Laura, his gaze penetrating her.

Finally he turned back to Colonel Mitchell, “Impressive place you have here, Colonel.”

“Thank you. It’s taken quite some time to get to this point but we’re proud of what we’ve accomplished.”

“Hunting people like me?” Max asked dismissively as Matt escorted them toward the elevators.

“Excuse me?” he asked, pausing by the doors.

“You
are
monster hunters, are you not?” Max stated accusingly.

“Yes. We are,” Mitchell answered. “And if you were attac
king humans and terrorizing small towns, then
yes
, we would hunt you down and kill you,” he said with a cold smile. “Would you please step this way.” He waved them through to the elevators.

Max smiled back at Mitchell and Matt knew it was a cha
llenge. Two Alphas about to hike on the furniture and test who had the meaner growl. Matt also knew that if this was truly Viktor’s father, then he was a much older werewolf and technically he should be the leader of a pack, but this was a military unit and by god,
he
was the designated leader and he’d see to it that his people were deployed as he saw fit.

As the elevator dropped to the lower levels, Max turned to Mitchell, “We will have much to discuss on how best to defeat the Sicarii.”

Mitchell stiffened slightly. He knew that Tasha and Nadia had brought him back, but he wasn’t aware of just how much they had told him. He wasn’t used to civilians just spilling their collective guts to whomever they please. There had to be a ‘need to know’ and Matt wasn’t convinced that Viktor’s father had a need to know yet. “Well that is an issue I’d much rather discuss with Claudius Veranus once we’ve located him,” Matt said dismissively.

The door opened and the group filed out, yet Max hung back and hovered near Mitchell. “He’s been found,” he said simply, then stepped out of the elevator and draped his arm around Nadia. “Show me this underground home of yours, pup.”

Matt observed the man with his flippant attitude and really didn’t think he liked him. He stepped out of the elevator and followed the group through the beginnings of the tour then interrupted. “We really don’t have time for this. We are packing to go to another facility and won’t be here for much longer,” he informed them. “We really need to find this Roman Centurion...this Claudius Veranus so that we can confer with him.”

Rufus Thorn and Viktor came around the corner and Viktor stiffened at the sight of his father. After all of the centuries, he hadn’t changed. A few more gray hairs in his beard, perhaps, but otherwise, exactly as Viktor had remembered him. Tasha and Nadia rushed to embrace him and he couldn’t help but smile as he wrapped his arms around the two women he adored. “How was your trip?” he asked, then turning to Tasha, “Are you okay? Rufus said you sounded…sad?”

“I am fine,” she said. “Honestly.” She stroked the side of his face and kissed him deeply. Viktor held her tightly and melted into her kiss. The woman could melt steel with her kiss. Nadia hid her eyes and tried not to blush. When they finally pulled back, Tasha leaned into him and whispered into his ear, “But I have personal news for you later that you must promise to keep a secret.”

He pulled away from her and studied her face. “What s
ecret?” He probed her face for some clue, but found only a smile.

“I will tell you later.” She poked him in the ribs to make him jump. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

“I do not…”

“Later.”

“Ahem,” Matt cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I appreciate your coming all this way, but unless this Roman, Veranus is somewhere nearby, or only you can contact him, I really don’t see the point.” Mitchell crossed his arms and gave Max a skeptical look.

Max chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t need to search for him, Colonel. I am he.”

Mitchell raised a brow and gave Max a skeptical stare. “Really?”

“Yes. Really,” Max answered.

“Yeah,” Matt answered. “Do you realize the odds of…” He sighed and shook his head. “Look, I appreciate your wanting to help. I really do. But we need the real deal here. If what I’ve been told is true, then we need to find—”

“Claudius Maximus Veranus, member of the Roman Tenth Legion, Captain of the Guard, defender of the Empire and holder of the Spear of Destiny,” he proclaimed. “You are looking at him, Colonel.”

Mitchell looked the man from head to toe, garbed in khaki shorts, Hawaiian shirt and sandals, Ray Ban sunglasses perched atop his thinning hair and wondered…
could he be telling the truth
?

“Father?” Viktor gasped. “What are you saying?”

Max turned and looked at Viktor, realizing that this was probably not the best way to tell his son that he was the progeny of a legend. Max lowered his eyes and shook his head slightly. “It’s true Viktor. I changed my name after the legend of who I was outgrew who I
really
was,” he explained. “I never wanted you to find out…at least, not this way, son.”

Viktor squared his shoulders and shook his head. “And mother?”

He nodded. “She knows. I think that may be why her taste for power is bigger than her brains.”

“Okay, look,” Mitchell interjected, “I’m not exactly saying that I don’t believe you, but…I don’t believe you. It’s just too damned convenient.”

“Let me guess, you’d like a Roman Driver’s License from around, say…I dunno, Zero AD?” Max laughed.

“That would work,” Matt said stonily.

“How about something a little more tangible and a little harder to fake?” Max asked.

“What did you have in mind?” Laura stepped in closer.

“I brought my armor and my helmet.” He turned to Mitchell and smiled. “And the Spear of Destiny.”

“The actual spear?” he asked.

“The one and only.” Max answered. “And…a little something else that might interest you a tiny bit more.”

“What would that be?” Mitchell asked.

“The face of the Sicarii.”

10

Jack waited in the mud hut with the other squad members, picking through the remains of the feast that was laid out in their honor. They had been there for most of the day while Loren the Wyldwood left with a small band of her hunters to meet with the other elders. Jacobs was outside playing catch with some of the children and trying to teach them the fundamentals of baseball, but they couldn’t grasp the idea of hitting the ball with a bat and then running. Lamb offered to help, but his patience ran out early.

Jack found that waiting, even in the wonderful world of the elves to be the same everywhere. It simply drained you. It was like sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office or a waiting room at a hospital. There was just something about waiting that sucked the life out of you. He had walked around their little vi
llage a couple of times and made small talk with many of the inhabitants. He’d skipped rocks across a still pond and spotted fish in the brook. He climbed a rope ladder and inspected a tree home in one of the larger trees and took a nap, but still, he waited.

Tufo came in and plopped down beside him, ripping a chunk from the loaf of wild grain bread and dipping it in the paste they had started calling Heaven-on-Earth Dip. He shoved it in his mouth and chewed it without tasting. Jack was sitting across from him and barely looked up when he plopped down. “If this takes much longer I think I’m going to go stir crazy,” he muttered.

“It hasn’t been that long, Chief,” Tufo said. He glanced at his watch and tapped it. The numbers on his digital readout were jumbled. “What the…”

“Yeah, go figure,” Jack said. “Time has little meaning in here. Could be hours, could be days…hell, it could have been months since they left.”

Donovan, who appeared to be asleep on the bench in the corner of the hut, spoke up, “Fifteen hours, twenty minutes.”

“How would you know?” Jack asked.

“Analog watch,” Donnie said from under his boonie hat. “You should try one. I know they’re difficult for anybody below second grade reading level to understand, but they’re pretty reliable.” You could hear the humorous sarcasm drip from his voice.

“Yeah, well…I happen to like digital, thank you,” Jack shot back.

“And I like reliable,” Donnie shot in return. He sat up and yawned. “But you’re right. Time does feel…
different
here. I swear it feels like it’s been a couple of days since they left.”

“When Loren said they’d be back soon, I thought a couple of hours,” Jack muttered.

Tufo ripped another piece of bread off and slammed it into the paste before shoving it into his mouth. Jack finally looked at him with questioning eyes. “What’s with you? Homesick?”

Tufo glared at him and poured a cup of wine. “This mission sucks.” He washed down the bread and cut a hunk of meat off the remaining carcass. “We should be out killing something i
nstead of stuck in here sitting on our thumbs.”

Donnie sat with his head hanging between his shoulders. He finally glanced up with a smart assed remark on his lips but held it. “Hey, where’s your little pixie buddy?” he asked suddenly curious.

Tufo rolled his eyes and ground his teeth. “Don’t ask,” he growled.

“Oh, my God, Mark! You didn’t burn her, did you?” Donnie asked, coming to his feet.

Tufo sighed and slammed his knife into the table. “No, dammit, I didn’t burn her.” He turned and glared at Donovan. “Now drop it, will you?”

Donovan’s eyes narrowed on the Marine. “Did you kill her?” he asked accusingly. “Tufo, tell me you didn’t kill the little sprite…”

“Oh, my God…no! I didn’t kill her,” he replied. “Now stop. Please,” he said emphatically.

Jack began to chuckle and hid his face.

Tufo glared at him. “What?”

“Nothing, Gunny,” Jack replied. His chuckling turned to laughter as he realized what Tufo had to do to get rid of the little pixie. “I didn’t say a damned thing.”

“You didn’t say it, but you’re thinking it!” Tufo yelled. “Stop it!”

Donovan’s eyes lit up and he began smiling. “Aww, Gunny. Did you finally cave?”

“Oh for the love of…”

“Yup, he did,” Donnie snorted. “Tufo’s a pixie poker.”

Jack lost it and burst out laughing, slapping his knee. Mark groaned and bounced his head against the table.

“Did you diddle Tink?” Donnie teased, then came up short when Tufo’s survival knife found itself at his groin.

“One more remark, and you diddle
no one
ever again,” he growled. “Got it?” Donnie backed away, his hands held in surrender, a smirk plastered across his face.

“Whatever you say, Gunny.” He backed away to his bench again and sat down. He laid back down keeping an eye on the Marine the whole time. “Of course, Disney movies will never be the same again.”

Jack lost it and fell to the floor laughing and Tufo put his head in his hands again, rubbing his temples. “Life isn’t fair.”

Lamb stuck his head in the door, “Yo, boss, looks like they’re back.”

Jack tried to regain his composure and collected himself from the floor. As he wiped at his uniform, he kept giggling to himself and tried to put the image out of his mind. Tufo came up beside him and said, “I blame
you
. You sent me out there, she attached herself to me, therefore, it’s
your
fault. So keep your pie-hole shut about it.”

“Aye-aye, Gunny,” Jack said, a smirk still painted across his features.

As they stepped out of the hut and saw Loren and her party returning, he noted that their faces were grim. He didn’t take that as a good sign. He prepared himself for the worst.

Loren approached him and he bowed to her and she to him. After their formal greeting, she escorted him back into the buil
ding and they resumed their seats. “I spoke with the elders of all of the Greater Elf tribes,” she began. “Many felt that this was not their war, that this was the doings of mankind and the hubris of the vampire Sicarii.”

Jack nodded. He knew what was coming next. They were on their own.

“But I explained to them that the vampire would not stop at burning the earth and enslaving
just
mankind. Our blood does strange and exotic things to vampires and they would stop at nothing to find our homes here in the Anywhere and enslave us all.” She peered at Jack and he felt her gaze burn through him. “They have agreed to assist you in your endeavors, Chief Jack.”

“That’s great,” he said. “When will your warriors be avail
able to go?”

“On the morrow. If you like, you may stay here for the evening and leave with them.”

Jack glanced at his squad mates and nodded. “That would be perfect, ma’am. We could make arrangements to fly them to our base once we have an idea the number of people we’re talking about, and then arrange transport to—”

“You do not understand, Chief Jack,” she interrupted. “We will take
you
where you need to go.”

Jack gave her a confused look. “Ma’am?”

Her smile warmed him in ways he didn’t even like to consider. He was a mated wolf, after all. “The doorway in which you entered our Anywhere…can take you where you wish to travel. You need only to tell us where that is.”

“A portal,” Jack said, more to himself than anyone.

“Yes, a portal. To anywhere in the world that you wish to be, within a short distance of course.”

“Of course,” Jack said, as if this were now common knowledge. “I would need to radio my people to find out exactly where we need to go. Is that okay?”

“We can open the portal to anyplace. Long or short distance to your people. If they are not there, then simply tell us where you think they will be and we shall try again.”

“Sweet.” Jack nodded. “I wish we had one of those things. It would sure knock down our response time.”

Loren shook her head. “I am sorry, Chief Jack, the doorways to the Anywhere are only for the Elven People.”

“I understand,” he said. “But one can still wish, right.”

“If one is to wish, then one should wish for victory in the upcoming battle, wouldn’t you think?” she replied softly.

“Of course. Forgive me,” Jack said, being brought back to their now shared reality.

“In the morrow, when the others come, we shall send you all to your place of choosing. For now, eat and rest. If you have need of anything, please let us know.” She rose from her seat and left the building as regally as a queen.

Jack and his people prepared for a night in the gathering room. Here, where time had little meaning, he knew that it would be a long night.

*****

Barbara Mueller had just finished loading the dishwasher and peered outside to the backyard. Bobby was practicing thro
wing his new football to one side of the yard, running as hard as he could to retrieve it then chucking it back to the other side. Barbara smiled and shook her head at her little man, unable to contain her pride not only in his dedication but to the obvious hundredth winning touchdown pass he made in his own little mind. She noted the dwindling light and slid open the rear porch door.

“Time to come in, Bobby. You need to wash up for dinner.”

Bobby scooped up the football from the well-worn grass and slumped his shoulders, “Aw, Mom, do I gotta?” he whined.

“You bet your grass-stained little hiney you do,” she said. “Upstairs. Bathtub. March.” She ordered with a grin.

“But Mom, it’s still light out.” He glanced around at the darkness and then back at her. “Sort of.”

“Now, mister. Supper’s almost ready, and you have to scrub the gridiron off your body,” she said. “You don’t want your mac-n-cheese to get cold, do you?”

Bobby kicked at the dirt as he slowly worked his way in. He loved mac-n-cheese, but he hated coming in from his practice. The other guys had two weeks on him and he had a lot of catching up to do. He couldn’t practice football from the bathtub and moms just didn’t understand that.

He trudged up onto the deck and dropped the football into the seat of the lawn chair by the sliding door. He stuck his nose into the kitchen and sniffed. “Mom, can I skip the bath and just eat supper real fast? I think I could get a little more practice in before bedtime.”

Barbara chanced a glance at him and chuckled. “Not on your life, mister. You got more dirt on you than you left in the yard.” She carried the meatloaf to the table. She stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled. “I could plant potatoes in those ears,” she teased.

“Mo-o-om!” he whined. “Don’t do that. You just pushed it into my
brain
!”

“Bath!” she laughed, pointing to the stairs.. “Go!”

Bobby dropped his head and slowly trudged to the stairs. Just as he hit the middle landing, the doorbell rang.

“I got it!” he yelled, tromping back down the stairs, hoping to put off the bath a little longer.

“No way, José!
Upstairs!” Barbara yelled as she flipped the kitchen towel onto her shoulder and walked to the front door. “Go! Shoo!” she said as she popped the towel towards his feet.

She went to the front door and peeked out of the side wi
ndow. She saw two men in dark suits and sunglasses standing at her front step. At first she thought maybe they were cops, or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She had an ‘oh shit’ moment as she thought of Robert, and then Bobby.

She glanced up the stairs and saw him peering around the corner. “Stay there,” she whispered. “No matter what you see or hear, you don’t come back down until I tell you to. Got it?”

Bobby nodded, fear suddenly creeping into his little eyes. “Pinocchio?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she answered. Pinocchio was their ‘danger word’. If they ever needed to send a message to the other that there was danger, the word to use was ‘Pinocchio’. Barbara stepped back to the hall closet and pulled the pistol out of the holster that Robert had given her. She slipped it into the back of her jeans just as the doorbell rang a second time.

“Just a moment,” she yelled. She peeked back up the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief that Bobby wasn’t in sight.

Barbara took a deep breath and opened the door as she would for anybody at that time of night. She opened it slightly and used her foot to brace it so that it couldn’t be forced open by anyone shoving on it.

“Barbara Mueller?” the closest man asked.

“Yes. Can I help you?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes, ma’am. We’re with the DoD, and we’ve been sent to collect you and your son for your own safety,” he replied.

She noted that both men appeared slightly pale, but thought it might be a trick of her porch light. The darkness of the eve
ning had deepened and her porch light cast a bright white light that drained the color from everything in its glow.

“Can I see your identification please?” she asked. The man nodded with a slight smile.

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a flat black wallet and flipped it open for her showing an identification card and a badge. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious, ma’am. You can’t be too safe these days.” He flipped it shut and slipped it back into his breast pocket. Barbara peered past him and noted a black van parked at the end of her sidewalk. The windows were tinted so dark that she couldn’t see if anybody else were inside. The other man kept looking around as if expecting something.