The Demon Deception Page 2

  He nodded in satisfaction when he saw her check the rifle, which indicated to him that she was getting over her shock, “Are you ready? We have a few miles to cover to get you back to your unit.”

  She nodded.

  He smiled, “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?” She didn’t say anything, and he continued. He pointed in the direction they needed to walk, “We’re going that way. It’s not the way you came from, but I can get you back to the Ring Road quicker in that direction.

  She would have to trust him, she had no choice, “Okay.”

  “I’m going to walk in front of you. You know your Army’s hand and arm signals, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, this is stop, this is freeze, this means danger zone, and this means enemy, yes?”

  She nodded again.

  “So, if you see me make these signs, you follow them. Or, if you see me stop, you stop. If you see me kneel, you kneel. If you see me lie down, you lie down. And, most importantly, if you see me running, you run in the same direction that I do, and try to beat me to wherever I’m running to, okay?”

  Another nod.

  He turned and started walking. She followed. Like before, she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. There were a few low hills in front of them, and she followed him as he led her across. They walked for a mile, and then two. Time passed slowly. They topped one more, low hill, and she saw the prettiest sight she had ever seen. It was her convoy, sitting at the juncture of Highway 1 and the road where they had been ambushed. They were only a mile away.

  “Okay, we’re almost there.”

  She started crying again. She hated her weakness. She remembered one of her favorite movies, and thought, “There’s no crying in the Army!”

  He turned to her, “It’s okay. No problems. You’re going to be okay, I promise.”

  “Will you stay with me until I get back to my unit?”

  He thought about it, and rubbed his beard, “Well, it’s going to complicate my life just a little bit, but I’ll stay with you until then.” He nodded his acquiescence to her wish.

  He turned to walk down the hill, to the group of Humvees and trucks. She reached out and stopped him before he could take a step.

  “Please?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Please, who are you?”

  “Oh, my name’s Eli. Come on, let’s get you where you belong, okay? It’s not too far now. I’m pretty sure they’re worried about you.”

  She nodded, suddenly realizing that she was missing in action. Her professionalism came back. She knew she needed to get down to the convoy. He put his hand on her arm, “here, why don’t you walk in front of me. They’re probably jumpy right now. Dressed like this, they’d probably think I’m a Taliban trying to finish what began earlier. I would hate for them to start shooting before I get you to them.”

  She stepped in front of him and began walking, “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s my job. I find missing people.”

  “Are you Special Forces?”

  “Ah, nothing special about me, young lady.”

  She slipped on the sloped gravel. She felt his strong hands grip her arm, and help her stay up.

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing. Come on, we’re almost there. They’ll see you soon enough.”

  She kept walking forward. One of the infantry soldiers, Corporal Meredith, saw her first. He yelled over at Lieutenant Macy, “Lieutenant, I think you should take a look. I think it’s Hartman!”

  2nd Lieutenant Macey looked at SFC Summer. While SSG Alciannas was in charge of the logistics part of the convoy, 2nd Lieutenant Macey was in charge of the overall convoy, the infantry commander, and SFC Summer was his platoon sergeant. SFC Summer did what any experienced NCO would do, and went to the other side, away from where Hartman was walking in, just in case this was some kind of diversion. If it was a diversion, he would be in place to direct fire on the attack. The vehicles were arranged in a circle. Everybody took cover, ready for another ambush. The three wounded soldiers from the IED explosion were in the center of the circle. A Combat Lifesaver was working on them, though injuries were light.

  Hartman had been discovered missing when SFC Summer did a head count and ACE report. The Lieutenant sent a contact report to his command via radio, as well as the information about the three wounded and one missing soldier. Right now, helicopter gunships were about five minutes out. There was a rapid reaction force racing out to the position as well, with an additional platoon of infantry. The lieutenant was going to lead his convoy back to the area as soon as they had the gunships on site.

  Lieutenant Macey raced over to Corporal Meredith. Meredith pointed towards SPC Hartman. She was walking calmly to the convoy. Macey put his hand on Meredith’s shoulder, then pointed at two other soldiers, and said, “Meredith, Clancy, Alcides, go check her out. Get her back here, ASAP.”

  It killed Macey to send the soldiers out when he wanted to go, but he knew that SFC Summer would kick his ass if he ran out there. It was the lieutenant’s job to manage operations, not play the hero. The sergeant would be very respectful when he did so, but it would still be a major verbal ass kicking. As Meredith and the two soldiers ran out from behind the cover of the Humvees, Macey yelled up at the Humvee gunners to keep them covered.

  He couldn’t just let the missing ‘soldier’ walk up to the Humvees. He had to make sure that she was, in fact, Hartman. If it wasn’t Hartman, he needed that person checked for explosives to make sure they weren’t on a suicide mission. The three soldiers got to Hartman quickly. CPL Meredith did a quick check for explosives. The three soldiers surrounded her, and walked her back to the vehicles. Macey was very relieved to see it was, in fact, SPC Hartman.

  She walked into the cover of the Humvees, and immediately, several soldiers clapped her on the shoulders, happy to see her back. Macey was happy as hell that he hadn’t lost a soldier. It would have weighed heavily on him to lose a soldier, and have to explain to her parents that she had been lost under his command. He walked over to SPC Hartman, “Are you okay, Specialist? How did you find us?”

  She looked around, looking for Eli, “Eli helped me. Where is he? I want to thank him for helping me get back.”

  Lieutenant Macey looked at her, “Eli? There’s nobody with you, Specialist. You walked in here by yourself.”

  She looked around, confused, “But, he was right there with me.”

  Macey was suddenly very concerned, “Let’s get you over to the combat life saver. I think you have a concussion.”

  He turned and walked her to the medic. The sound of helicopter blades beat percussion against the hills as gunships arrived on station. Macey told the medic about her possible concussion, and headed back to his command Humvee to radio back the good news that she had been found.

  Hartman was ecstatic when she saw her crew. They were all banged up, but everybody was alive. SPC Peltier jumped up and threw his arms around her, “You saved my life. I couldn’t get in, and you pulled me down. I saw the Humvee tipping. I knew I was a dead man. I saw the ground racing up at me.”

  SSG Alciannas and PFC Reyes, the driver, stood up and walked over. Peltier stood back, embarrassed by his reaction. Alciannas gripped both her shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes, and said in his lilting Haitian accent, “It is good to have you back, Specialist Hartman. You had us very worried.”

  The congratulations continued as people walked by. Combat medics showed up with the relief forces and took charge of the wounded. They herded their charges to ambulances for the trip back to Bagram. Before she got into the ambulance, Specialist Hartman looked around for her savior. She wondered if she would ever see Eli again.

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  Chapter One – Vampires, Witches, and Werewolves, Oh My

  The sound of bass thudded through the alley. The noise was coming from one of the hottest hip-hop clubs in New York. The main cl
ub entrance was on Empire Boulevard, but this alley ran directly behind it. Two large men guarded the back of the club. Both stood over six feet, and massed over two hundred and twenty pounds, none of it fat. One was a light skinned Hispanic, the other an ebony skinned black man. Their breath hung as thick fog in the cold of the night. Both of them wore black leather jackets, jeans, and heavy boots. Glock 9mm pistols were holstered on the right side of their belts, and magazines with extra bullets were holstered on the left. They wore watch caps against the cold. Gloved hands were crossed before them. These two were professionals. It wasn’t the entrance to the club they guarded, though. Instead, they guarded the entrance to catacombs below the building.

  Eli watched steadily, noting the people that went in and out of the catacombs. At current count, there were twelve women, and seven more guards, each as large as the two on the door. He was waiting for someone in particular, though, who hadn’t arrived yet. This was a long time coming. He had tracked this individual for many years, across Europe and South America. The last time he had seen the coven master had been in the jungles along the Amazon.

  Brazil was an assignment he didn’t enjoy. He hated the jungle, and that coven had been extremely brutal. They preyed on street children from different cities across Brazil. Those children were considered throwaways by society, and when they disappeared, the authorities didn’t care. The horrors he had seen when he destroyed the coven would have given a normal man nightmares for the rest of his life. The coven master had gotten away, though, sacrificing the coven to gain his escape.

  It had taken a year for him to track the coven master. Eli knew that the vampire would eventually make a mistake. It was only a matter of time before Eli found him. Now, he had tracked the fiend down. Missing people were often the trail that Eli had to follow. Clusters of activity gave these monsters away. The horror was, that children were a disproportionate representation of the missing that he tracked. It was always the innocent that suffered. The missing child he was looking for was Cynthia Rowland, kidnapped off the street at a park in Brooklyn. Eli was hoping find her before anything happened to her tonight.

  His present business aside, Eli was happy to be in New York. He missed civilization. It had been a few years since he was in NYC, and a long time since he had spent more than a few days in the city. After a few months hunting in New York, he narrowed the area down to Brooklyn and then to this area off of Prospect Park. It was a matter of following the crime statistics. The missing children stuck out from the regular crime in the area like a bruise on the city.

  Eli watched. The hip-hop club was a good setting to hide the activities of the new coven. The master and his coven were able to move unnoticed in the area. There was also a good selection of physically fit males to recruit for the guardians. They were from the area, so they blended in well. Their old gangs were schooled pretty quickly about the dangers of objecting to the new affiliations and activities of their old members.

  After he worked out the location of the coven, he rented this small apartment across the alley from the club. He had been here, on and off for a week, watching their activities. It took a while, but he found the weak link. That weak link was more than willing to give up the coven master’s activities and schedule. The weak link was on his way out to the ocean, the body dropped into the Hudson. Now, Eli watched the alley, drinking a coke. The light in the apartment was turned off to avoid unwanted attention. Lately, Eli was in the apartment twenty four/seven, waiting.

  He hoped that he could take some time off after this mission, take in the sights, and see how much the city had changed. It had been fifty years since he was able to spend time in New York. Now, he flew in for work, and then he flew back out. When he first came to the city, speakeasies, prohibition, and mobsters like Lucky Luciano were the social problems the city had to deal with. Now, new gangsters, more violent than the old ones, were the social blight on the city.

  Tonight was the night though. He knew that from the astrological alignments that were occurring. That and the blood moon tonight. That crap was readily believed by ‘witches’ that it had become standard stock. It was part of the shtick that the master used to lure his mistresses into the ‘coven.’ Foolishly, they thought that the rituals they participated in were some type of Gaian Celtic ritual, not recognizing the demonic nature of the magic, and the damage it did to them as they participated.

  He shifted on the seat, leaning forward. Modern culture had done much to de-stigmatize and legitimize the occult. Most of it was harmless. Sometimes, though, when a man like the coven master was involved, souls hung in the balance, warped by a series of what seemed to be harmless choices that became more dangerous as they continued participating.

  The drugs, the cult, the sense of belonging to something bigger than themselves, led to disaster for these rich, bored Manhattan socialites. They liked the adventure, slumming in Brooklyn. It helped relieve the ennui of their rich, spoiled existences. It was the Manson family, only with a demonic twist. The socialites were sophisticated, though incredibly naïve. They didn’t realize that the child’s sacrifice made them victims as well. Tonight, they had made a conscious decision to give their souls to evil, though they didn’t understand this. To them, there was no good or evil. There was no walking away from this decision. Their path to darkness and damnation was complete.

  A black limousine arrived at the end of the alley. It pulled up far enough for the back door to open onto the alley. The chauffeur ran around the limousine and opened the door. Eli watched the coven master step out. Eli leaned back, pulling away from the window. If he was seen now, the coven master would bolt. Eli would have to start the hunt all over again. It could be a year or more before he found this creature again. Eli studied him, not looking directly at him. He knew the coven master would feel Eli’s gaze, so he used peripheral vision to watch the vampire walk down the alley.

  The vampire was a bearded, olive skinned man, thin, but taller than the two guards at the entrance of the catacombs. Long hair brushed against the fur collar of the long, leather coat that swept the ground as he walked. The coat was open to showcase the expensive clothes and gold chains. Even in the cold, his shirt was unbuttoned, showcasing his muscularity and the masculine, hairy chest. The coven master was all rock’n’roll. He was Morrison, Plant, and Mercury all rolled into one. He had a vibrant sexuality that lured bored socialites. The coven master nodded at his guardians, and walked between them to the door. The door opened, and he disappeared into the catacombs.

  Eli stood up and stretched. He already had the pistol, a Springfield XD, .45 caliber, belted on. He picked up the Keltec shotgun, and shrugged into the harness that it was attached to. He put on his long leather jacket. He turned to the door, and walked out of the apartment. He shut the door, and locked it. He walked down two flights of stairs, and then out the front door to the cold of the night. He breathed in the chill air.

  Eli walked around to the back of the building, through a weed filled side alley that opened on the alley in back. The cold air eddied and trash flew before the wind. He was thankful that it was cold tonight. Ordinarily, there would be prostitutes plying their trade as single men came out of the club, the girls earning money to pay for their drugs. The smell of urine, from men unwilling to wait in long lines inside the club, overpowered the senses on a warm night. Not tonight, thankfully. It was too cold for them to brave the alley. As it was, there would be no innocent bystanders or witnesses.

  He took a deep breath and stepped around the corner. Brownstones and brick buildings framed the alleyway. Eli immediately drew the notice of one of the catacomb guardians. He turned and walked in their direction, waving towards them as he walked. The guardian took the back of his hand and hit the other guardian on the arm, pointing with his chin.

  The man walking towards them was a short man, approximately five foot five inches tall, weighed about one hundred and thirty pounds, looked to be in his mid-forties. He had curly brown hair, and a close cropped beard. He was
dressed in a long, brown, leather coat. He had on khaki pants, brown shirt, and brown leather work boots. He walked closer, then waved again at the guardians. “Hey, I think I’m lost. I’m supposed to do an interview with DJ I. Is this the entrance to the Rub? I need to get in before I lose my interview. Here’s my press pass.”

  The guardians relaxed as the man talked. If they had given it thought, they would have realized that his clothes marked him as an outsider, someone who wasn’t in the music business at all. The mention of the press pass allayed their suspicion. They didn’t have time to realize their mistake, though. His hand came forward, and only then did they know.

  They tried to make up for it with a partial shift to their animal forms, relying on instinct instead of training. They were both lycanthropes, the demonic magic inside that had perverted their souls lending power to the shift. Odds were extremely good that both of these men had done some horrific things in their lives to manifest their nature in this way. Not that anything was left. Their souls had been consumed by the evil within.

  They had no chance to complete the shift. Eli shot them both in the chest, at point blank range. The silver in the bullet hit their flesh, shunting the magic from their demonic possession. They screamed as their bodies could no longer process the magic that sustained them. Demonic possession had taken their souls, and replaced it with hellfire. The conduit for the demonic magic was broken. Their bodies could no longer contain the hellfire, and it ate them from the inside out. They perished in a conflagration of energy. The sound of the music from the club drowned out the gunshots and the screaming. Eli stepped back from the ashes drifting slowly on the cold wind blowing down the alley. The smell of sulfur whirled away.

  Frangible was such an interesting word. He loved the way the word felt in his mouth. It filled the mouth, and rolled off the tongue. Eli loved saying it. Silver, while one of the best metals for killing demon spawn and the possessed, was not a very good ballistic metal. It was too hard, and didn’t take the spin imparted from the lands and grooves of the gun barrel. Gold, platinum, and palladium were also good for killing the possessed, but was too expensive to make his special bullets with. All of these metals were too hard to make a good bullet. So, experimentation and modern technology were used to create a silver, frangible bullet.