The Demon Deception Read online

  He waited. The van remained in park.

  She gave up, “Fine, whatever.” She fastened her seat belt.

  Lazarus smiled, and put the van in drive. He inched out onto the road, using his brakes liberally. The road was very steep. When he reached the hairpin turns, he slowed down even more.

  “You drive like an old woman, Eli.”

  Sam spoke, “Well, we do have an extraordinary amount of explosives in this van. Even if we survived the drop off the side, I don’t think we would survive the explosion at the bottom.” He looked down at the bottom of the open pit, “And I don’t think your motorcycle gang down there would appreciate it either.”

  Lilith craned her neck to try and get a look at who was waiting for her at the bottom, but she was on the wrong side of the van. She had to wait for the next turn to see who was down there, “Good, it looks like they have their entire chapter here.”

  Lazarus spoke, “Let me guess, a pack of lycanthropes?”

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “Well, you have a pack of bikers. I don’t think that vampires would be their style. Plus, it’s daylight. You already have an alpha male hierarchy in a biker gang. One just seems to fit the other.” Lazarus thought for a second, looked at Lilith, then looked at Sam and Darcy in the back seat and started laughing.

  “What are you laughing at, Eli?” Sam asked.

  “Well, we’re in a van, we have a red head and a brunette, and now I’m trying to figure out who’s Fred and who’s Shaggy.” He hooked a thumb towards the big hole in the ground, “I guess we’re taking the mystery mobile down to meet Scooby Doo.”

  Lilith snickered. Sam rolled his eyes. Darcy didn’t know what he was talking about.

  Lazarus was able to avoid more of the problematic landscape driving down the road, but even he wasn’t able to keep the van from bouncing around. Darcy was about to get sick in the back of the van. Sam tried to keep her calm by massaging the back of her neck. It seemed to help, or at least keep her mind off of the swaying of the van. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, sighing. Sam ran his hand up and down her back, trying to help her settle. He put his chin on top of her head. She nuzzled in.

  Lazarus made the last hairpin turn, and a few thousand feet later, he pulled up alongside the motorcycles of the Disciples. He put the van in park, opened the door, and stepped out. Lilith was a lot more energetic. She burst out of the van and ran over to the alpha of the pack.

  “Skull, how are you?”

  She melted into Skull’s arms. Lazarus felt something, deep in the pit of his stomach. He was alarmed to find himself growling like Sam had been at the top of the mine. Skull grabbed her hair, bent her head back, and kissed her roughly. This guy was even bigger than Bull. His arms were the size of most men’s thighs, and he had no neck, just shoulders and a very round, very bald head. He had on the same general outfit, t-shirt, blue jeans, heavy boots, but a leather jacket instead of a vest. He had his swastika tattooed on the side of his head.

  Darcy hopped out of the van, accompanied by the whistles of the bikers. Then, Sam unfolded from the back of the van. Some of the bikers choked, and the whistling stopped.

  Skull looked at Lazarus, “Man, you drive like a pussy.”

  Lazarus smiled and waved, “Hi, nice to meet you, too. My name’s Lazarus. I’m Jewish, by the way.” He pointed at Skull’s tattoo in reference.

  “I could give less than a damn about you.”

  Sam walked around the van, “Hi, my name’s Sam. I’m an American Indian. I’m one of the mud people that you guys like to talk about. I’m not one of you pure, white guys.”

  Lazarus smirked. Skull took it as a challenge. He picked up Lilith and sat her down on his motorcycle. He walked over to Sam, smiled, held out his hand, and said, “Well, nice to meet you Sam.”

  Sam looked down at the offered hand. It was huge, almost as big as Sam’s. Sam held his hand out, and grabbed the proffered hand. The bikers around them started laughing, and taking bets on how long it would take Sam to start crying. Sam stood there, feeling the pressure of the grip increase. Skull’s smile grew. Evidently he played this game with a lot of people, and hadn’t lost in a very long time, if ever.

  Seconds passed, and neither man said anything. It was a contest of wills as much as it was about grip strength. Muscle corded on the forearms of both men, veins popping out. Then Lazarus saw the chink in the armor. A bead of sweat ran down Skull’s forehead. His smile faltered. His men around him began muttering, sensing that something was wrong. Sam smiled, then said, “Is that all you’ve got?”

  Sam began to bear down. Skull’s smile turned into a grimace. His face turned red, then purple. He showed signs of the pain he was experiencing. Lazarus didn’t want the Alpha to lose control of the pack, so he spoke, “That’s enough, Sam.”

  Sam held the grip for a few seconds more, then let go. Skull pulled his hand back quickly, probably too quickly. He noticed the look on the faces of his men, and started raging, “What the hell are you looking at? Get the weapons out. Get the weapons loaded. I didn’t tell you to stand around.” He walked over and slugged one of his men, to get the crowd moving. Aware that it was not a good time to draw attention to themselves, the other members of the biker gang withdrew, began pulling weapons out and loading them.

  Skull walked back over to Lilith, and tried to kiss her again, but the mood was gone. She slipped away from his kiss, and walked over to look at the weapons. Lazarus, Sam, and Darcy walked over to see what they had.

  Lazarus looked at the array of weapons. There were all sorts of pistols, revolvers and semiautomatics in a multitude of calibers. They had sawed off shotguns. They had M1s, M14s, and AR15s. They didn’t have enough discipline to at least use the same style of weapons so that they could share ammunition and magazines.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, Lazarus saw something that intrigued him. He walked over. Three guys were standing there that were obviously prior military. He could tell by the way they held themselves. All three of them had Squad Automatic Weapons, or in military nomenclature, the M249 light machinegun, or SAW. It was a great weapon, perfect for a squad of infantrymen.

  Skull wasn’t too far behind, “yeah, we brought the firepower. What did you bring?”

  Lazarus smiled, “Oh, we didn’t bring much, did we Sam?”

  Sam smirked. He walked back to the van, opened up the back door, and pulled out one of the M60 special operation machineguns, “Oh, hey, look, we have machineguns too. I think mine’s bigger though, and it shoots a bigger bullet.”

  Darcy was standing next to Lazarus, “Are they talking about the machineguns?”

  Lazarus grinned, and shook his head, “No, not at all.”

  Darcy giggled, “I didn’t think so.”

  Skull frowned, upset that he had been upstaged again. The rest of the biker gang watched. They were beginning to realize that one age was ending, and another might be beginning. Skull was beginning to realize it as well. He didn’t like it. He turned and walked to Lazarus, thinking he could intimidate the smaller man, “I’m thinking I ought to just leave you two lying face down in the dust. What do you think about that?”

  It was his last attempt to take charge. If Lazarus showed any fear at all, Skull would rally his pack, and Sam and he wouldn’t make it out of the Copper Queen alive. God knows what would happen to Darcy. Fear wasn’t exactly Lazarus’ style anyway. Instead, he held his hand straight up, and then dropped it to point at Skull’s motorcycle.

  Skull laughed, “What the hell was that? Is that all you got?”

  Three seconds later, a hole ripped through the gas tank, the sound of tearing metal closely followed by the sound of a single gunshot, a .338 Lapua bullet exploding from the muzzle of a Desert Tactical Stealth Recon Scout. The sound of the gunshot echoed around the inside of the mine. With that shot, the motorcycle gang knew who was in charge. It wasn’t Skull.

  Third loss of the day for Skull. He lost the respect of hi
s men right at that moment. They would follow his lead for the day, but after this, there was a bull’s eye painted on his back. Skull growled. He pulled a combat knife from inside his jacket and rushed Lazarus. Skull’s days were numbered, but he was going to take someone with him. He charged, and changed at the same time.

  The knife slashed, and Lazarus swayed, the movement subtle, just enough for the knife to miss. The knife ripped through the air, but didn’t connect. The muzzle of the human-wolf hybrid bit down where Lazarus’ shoulder should be, but Lazarus shifted again, and the bite didn’t connect. Lazarus knew all the moves that this lycan could throw at him, and knew the counter for every one of them. Two thousand years of muscle memory can’t be fooled. Lazarus countered with a short punch, delivered with his feet firmly planted, the force driving up through his hips, back and shoulders. The lycan was knocked back, ribs shattering beneath the force of the blow.

  “Down boy. I don’t think your master wants you off the leash just yet.”

  Lilith looked over at the lycan, losing interest, “Yes, Skull, I need them alive. You can stop now.”

  Skull was pissed, and didn’t like taking orders from a skirt. Skull stood up, “Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?” His left arm was up, to put pressure on the two broken ribs. He winced as he moved, something his pack surely noticed. Hellfire flared to fix the wound.

  Lilith turned, and walked over to Skull. Her hand darted forward, re-breaking the ribs. She grabbed them, and twisted, “I’m your master, cur, and don’t you ever forget it.”

  Fresh waves of pain made Skull gasp. He fell down to his knees. Lazarus smiled. Skull wasn’t having a very good day. Lazarus heard a faint beeping. He pulled out a blue tooth ear piece. The ear piece was talk and listen technology. It was used to talk through the military grade radio that Lazarus had in his coat pocket, “Yeah, what’s up?”

  On top of the pit, Major Susan Hartman was on the rim opposite the Copper Queen visitor center where Lazarus and his entourage had entered. Eight of the world’s finest long range shooters were with her. Five were from the US military, two Force Recon Marines, one Navy SEAL, one from Special Forces, and an Army Ranger. There was a female soldier from the Israeli defense force, and two German Fallschirmjäger. Not all of them were snipers, or even sniper trained, but they all could drive a nail at 1400 yards.

  Susan Hartman had done well since that night, long ago, in Afghanistan. She had gone to Officer Candidate School, and become a commissioned officer. She asked for, and got a branch assignment to Intelligence. Now, she was stationed at the home of the Army Intelligence School, Fort Huachuca. Major Hartman had grown from a young, inexperienced girl to a steely eyed dealer of long distance death. She was pretty good in close as well, with either knife or pistol.

  She had gotten a call twelve days ago. She had gone to a warehouse in Nogales, Arizona, and claimed nine rifles chambered in .338 Lapua. Soon after that, she went on two weeks of leave, and spent a lot of time at the range getting used to the new weapon. A shooter that did a lot of long range competitions for the Army team, she loved the rifle. It was a marvel to shoot. The others on her team arrived within a week after the phone call.

  Lazarus heard a voice in his ear, “Good morning Susan, how are you?”

  “Covering your ass, as usual.”

  “Believe me when I tell you, I am very glad that you’re staring at my ass through your ‘scope right now.”

  Major Hartman heard one of the Germans snigger at Lazarus’ joke. She spoke again, to give Lazarus a situation report, “I just wanted to give you a head’s up. You have six government, black Humvees filled with what looks like government agents headed your way. Oh, and Franz thinks you have a very nice ass.”

  Lazarus laughed, “Okay, looks like we have company.”

  “You need us to put anybody down?”

  Lazarus chuckled, “My, my, Susan. A little blood thirsty today, are we?”

  “Against what you’re facing, yes I am. When do I have free reign to take down the bad guys.”

  “Not just yet. No major problems right now. Just watch our backs, make sure nobody tries to slip something into them. Oh, and if anything demonic looking appears out of thin air, you have my permission to engage. If you see people in a vest like mine, make sure they stay safe.”

  “Roger, WILCO.”

  Lilith looked over at Lazarus, “What are you laughing at, Eli?”

  Lazarus pointed up towards the rim of the mine. Everybody that wasn’t busy looked up. They could see the cloud of dust, but they couldn’t see the vehicles yet. He looked over at Lilith, “Looks like your boy Mephistopheles couldn’t stay away.”

  The look in Lilith’s eyes spoke volumes. Lazarus didn’t envy Mephistopheles when he arrived. He turned and motioned for Sam to go to the back of the van. They walked back, with Darcy tagging along like a lost child. Sam opened the back of the van, and Lazarus took off his leather coat, and threw it into the back. He still had his pistol on his belt.

  Sam reached in and pulled out a vest that had additional rifle and pistol magazines in pouches, shotgun shells in loupes, and a knife strapped on it. There were armored plates in the vests as well, on the front and back. Lazarus took the vest, pulled the Velcro apart, and then slipped it over his head. He pulled his shotgun out, and put the carrying strap over his head, securing it so that the shotgun draped down the back of the vest. He grabbed the radio from the jacket and put that into a pouch. He walked around the side of the van, pulled the twins out and strapped them around his waist. He was ready for war.

  Sam was doing the same thing. When he was finished putting on the vest, he began setting up the other weapons systems, the M60s and the rocket launchers. When he was done with that, he opened a container that had Lazarus’ special hand grenades in it. Lazarus grabbed two, and put them in pouches on the vest designed to hold them.

  Lazarus turned to Darcy. She looked completely out of her league. Lazarus really wished the young woman wasn’t here. He couldn’t do anything about that now, though. He motioned her over. When she walked up, he pulled out a ballistic vest that had nothing strapped to it. It was Darcy’s size. It had the SAPI armor plates in it, but there was nothing that could be construed as a weapon on it.

  Darcy shook her head, however, “I don’t want to wear that.”

  He patted her on the arm, “Please, just wear it for me. I’ll feel better knowing that you have it on and are protected by it. It doesn’t have any bullets, or knives, or anything else on it. It will just give you some protection in case something happens. Plus, the shooters on the ridge know that if you’re wearing this, you’re one of the good guys.”

  She didn’t look convinced. She took the vest from him and her arms dropped as she took the weight. Lazarus saw alarm in her eyes.

  “Don’t worry, love. Once you have it on, it distributes the weight evenly. It won’t feel near as bad as you think.”

  She hesitated, and Lazarus thought that she would refuse, but then she nodded. He helped her put on the vest. Once it was on, he had her shrug, and jump up and down. Once she was satisfied that she was comfortable, he yelled over to Lilith, “Hey, I have a vest for you as well. And a rifle if you want it.”

  “Sounds like fun. Do you think it will match my outfit?” she asked.

  He looked at the blue jeans, t-shirt, Doc Martins, and leather jacket, “Blue jeans match everything. Plus, it’s in Multicam, which is very stylish right now.”

  She paraded over, and Lazarus helped her put it on, not that he thought she needed help. Lilith held her arms up and wiggled as Lazarus helped to put the vest on. Lazarus lifted the vest over her head, and she arched her back. Her breasts rubbed against his arm as he fit the vest. She used the occasion to brush up against him, and to bend and twist so that all the men around could admire her form. Lazarus couldn’t deny that he enjoyed having her close to him. He could smell her shampoo, the smell of strawberries tickling his nose. His pulse increased dramatically. />
  A voice sounded in his ear. Major Hartman spoke, “You look like you’re enjoying that way too much, Eli. You need to get your head out of the clouds. Look lively, your visitors will be down to you in about ten minutes.”

  “Roger,” Lazarus replied. Lazarus stepped back from the van and looked up. The convoy of government vehicles was navigating the switchbacks. Blue and red police lights strobed as the convoy proceeded. Clouds of dust followed the Humvees, creating a low, brown haze that settled across the terrain. Lazarus wondered what government agency Mephistopheles was going to parade next. Probably FBI or DEA. Lazarus thought that Les was probably out of ATF agents.

  Sam had everything laid out, the weapons and the munitions, in the back of the van. He had missiles to one side, and machineguns to the other. He had boxes of munitions open for use, and arranged so that every caliber was available without too much digging. Sam stood back, and admired his handy work. Lazarus looked in, “So, where’s the reloads for the shotgun, rifle and pistol?”

  Sam pointed out where all the different calibers where. Lazarus noticed that the M60 machineguns had the boxes of ammunition attached to the side of the machinegun, but the bullets hadn’t been laid in the tray yet. Lazarus pointed this out.

  “Eli, it takes maybe five seconds to lay the first bullet in the tray, and close the lid. I think we’ll have plenty of time to get that task accomplished. If we don’t, it’s all over with anyway.”

  The black Humvees were on the last stretch of the road. Drama was the word for this display. The black Humvees had FBI in big yellow stencil on the side of the doors. The first Humvee slid to a stop next to the van, and the dust cloud enveloped the crowd. A tall, slim man, who Lazarus assumed was an FBI agent, stepped out and walked to the back of the vehicle. He opened the door, and Mephistopheles stepped out.

  The first thing out of the door was Mephistopheles’ hand, held in a delicate, gentle, effeminate gesture. The agent took the proffered hand, and helped Mephistopheles step out of the Humvee. Mephistopheles’ foot touched the ground, and that seemed to be the signal for everybody else to get out. The other Humvees opened, and four to five agents stepped out of each. They were dressed in black battle dress, with ballistic vests that said, ‘FBI,’ in bold yellow lettering. They were wearing ballistic helmets.