Rise of the Nephilim Page 10

  He stood on the wooden deck outside of his childhood home, stargazing as he had done so often during his teenage years. He could feel the frustration rising in him, as he tried to pinpoint Saturn in his telescope. The light pollution that had been such a source of ire before was once again foiling his endeavors. He was unable to see the ringed planet more clearly than the fuzzy yellow-orange smear that filled his eyepiece.

  He was on the verge of giving up for the night when the sky flashed a brilliant bluish-white. He recoiled in surprise and held his hands to his face, as he waited for the spots to dissipate. When his vision cleared again, he uncovered his eye. The world was still in total darkness, as if every bulb had burned out in an instant. The Milky Way gleamed overhead, a glittering field of fire burning with an intensity he would only later experience in the farthest reaches of civilization.

  Odd, reddish-green distortions rent the firmament and twisted the starlight around them. The anomalies quickly evolved from small shimmers to black scars eating away at the celestial plane. He perceived shapes emerging from the ebony centers of the tears. In horror, he realized that thousands of ethereal ships were bursting forth from whatever higher dimensions of space-time they had wrapped themselves in to make the long journey to Earth.

  Silently, the vaguely cigar-shaped vessels descended toward the planet. Nephilim... The invasion had begun. He could hear the screams of his neighbors in the distance, as they experience the same terror. The armada fired a simultaneous volley of green plasma orbs that sped downward toward the crippled terrestrial infrastructure. He saw the flash of the explosion as they found their mark and braced himself for the giant wall of flames that raced to consume him…..

  He fell off the couch and hit the floor forcefully enough to knock his breath out and send jarring pain up and down his spine. His sudden return to consciousness and cry of surprise was lost in the mass confusion that now pervaded the control room. Alarms were ringing and people were shouting at each other and into various communication devices.

  “…lost visual in the mezzanine… static everywhere…need a body count….”

  Emily ran up to help him to his feet.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay. C’mon, we have to get these people out of here!”

  “What the hell happened?” Jude demanded.

  She rummaged through one of the crates positioned against the wall and pulled out a couple of bullet-proof vests. She tossed one in Jude’s direction and quickly slipped on hers. “A bomb went off in the auditorium and electronics are failing all over the building. The Nephilim must be here!”

  Jude stared in shock at the scrambled security monitors, as he tried to process the situation. He almost didn’t notice Eric and Brad sidle up to report to Emily, assault rifles in hand and a steeled look in their eyes.

  “Hello boys,” greeted Emily. “Fancy having a go at some terrorists?”

  “Gladly,” Brad answered enthusiastically.

  Eric chimed in, “Our primary objective is to locate and evacuate the Archbishop, though. Any deviation from our mission won’t involve us.”

  “Are you kidding?” Jude yelled in outrage. “People are dead or dying up there. Are you really just going to leave them behind once you get him out?”

  “I understand the situation, Mister Sullivan,” Eric replied coldly, “but those are our orders. We’ll come back when he is safe, I promise.”

  Emily reprimanded Jude, “We don’t have time to argue, love. We need to get up there and help those people. Nephilim are roaming the facility as we speak.”

  “Nephilim?” Eric asked as if trying to place a face to a name. “I haven’t heard of that organization. What’s their agenda?”

  “Complete domination,” stated Emily simply. “These men are extremely dangerous, and I mean extremely. They may have some normal mercenaries in the crowd, but if you see anyone doing anything you might call ‘supernatural’ or ‘superhuman’, don’t be a hero. If you don’t have a good shot, then don’t do something to draw attention to yourself. Now, please follow me.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Brad questioned aloud. “Why are you even in charge?”

  “No time to explain,” Emily shouted over her shoulder, as she picked up a pistol from a side table and put a round in the chamber, “and no time to argue. Eric and Brad take the rear. Let’s move out!”

  She passed another pistol to Jude on her way to the exit of the evacuated security room. He lifted the weapon up to get a feel for its weight. He hadn’t shot a gun since he was a teenager aiming at targets and cans in the woods, but he had been a pretty decent shot back then. He hoped regaining those skills was similar to riding a bike, except forgetting how to shoot on target would likely get him killed right now.

  “We need to evacuate any VIPs first,” he urged Emily, “I hope we can find Antonio on the way.” He crept close behind her while Eric and Brad protected the flank with their rifles.

  The group shuffled through the basement hallway, staying alert for the sound of nearby danger. From the stairway a few dozen yards ahead of them, they could hear the screams of the wounded and the stomping of feet desperate to escape. Worse still, they could hear the distinctive pop of gunfire from the enemy above.

  “My God,” said Jude, stunned. “What do you think is going on outside? Do you think the police will even be able to help?”

  “Doubtful,” observed Emily. “We had guards at almost every doorway. If things are going this badly, I’m afraid they didn’t have much time to react. We should help as many people as we can.”

  They crept up the stairway, covering each direction cautiously. As they reached the top, they surveyed the situation. People were still fleeing the auditorium in a panic. In front of the doorway to their immediate right stood a man armed with a rifle taking pot shots at the fleeing mob and laughing. Another man dressed as a rabbi stood beside him nodding his approval. Jude was shocked to recognize him as one of the people from the conference. A dozen dead and wounded already lay at their feet.

  The two didn’t notice the group. They were just out of the assailants’ line of sight. Eric and Brad signaled to each other and maneuvered into position, taking down both men quickly.

  “Shit!” cursed Eric, as they assisted the victims nearby. “I bet these guys are covering all the main entrances. We need to split up, if we are going to help anyone. You two go upstairs. Archbishop Miller was sitting on this floor, so we’ll do our sweep down here. I promise we’ll come back once he’s safe.”

  “Be careful,” admonished Jude, as the two soldiers veered away and stalked down the corridor leading around the back of the auditorium.

  As they drifted out of sight, Emily tugged his arm and led him to the next flight of stairs. They clung to the railing as they ascended to avoid the fleeing patrons. Halfway up, one of them crashed into Jude’s shoulder and began to stumble, before Jude reached out to steady him. The man’s black robes, cross necklace, and cylindrical hat indicated he was from the Eastern Orthodox Church. He stared into Jude’s eyes with a feverish look.

  “Don’t go up there! Demons!” He pleaded in a thick Russian accent. He pulled away from the couple and continued his flight to the nearest exit.

  “He’s right,” Emily confirmed. “They’ve made the first move. Let’s go.”

  They ran up the stairs past more blood-stained bodies, directing the lesser wounded victims toward the safest escape routes. Here, the throng had overwhelmed and trampled their attackers, but it sounded as if more possessed were further down. They continued to follow the most desperate screams into the mezzanine and arrived in time to see another priest toss someone over the railing to the atrium below with a simple wave of his hand. The man roared like a lion and spoke in the incomprehensible tongue of the Grigori, as he picked up another plaything from the panicked crowd.

  Jude drew his weapon and took a quick shot at the attacker. The bullet embedded itself into the man’s leg, which caused him to stumble and lose hi
s grip on his prey. He turned his attention on the two with a terrible cry. Jude felt the vise grip of an invisible hand clench around his chest. He dropped his gun and struggled to breathe, but it only lasted a couple of seconds. A loud crack of thunder and a blinding light ended the assault.

  Emily stood with her finger pointed toward the now-prone man, residual static from the electrical attack raising strands of hair on her head. His body convulsed uncontrollably; smoke rose from a charred hole in his smoldering shirt. Emily ran up to him and cradled his head in a motherly fashion. Her hands radiated cleansing light, as she attempted to purge the incapacitated man of his parasitic oppressor. His face contorted into a silent scream and blood began to trickle from his eyes, as both souls fled from his body.

  Jude fell to his knees and coughed violently, as he fumbled around in search of his gun. Emily stumbled back over and offered Jude a hand up. Before he could offer her his thanks, they heard another round of gunshots in the atrium and felt a boom followed by the tinkling of glass. Jude hoped this meant that the police had finally mounted a counter assault on the building.

  There was no time to relax, however. They could still hear cries of anguish coming from inside the auditorium. Emily dove through the doorway to the auditorium and rolled to cover behind a table that had been overturned during the panic. Jude followed and peeked over the top to gain a view of the situation. The room was almost empty now. Smoking debris littered the area, creating a haze that partially obscured the opposite wall. The bomb had not been large, but it had destroyed a few of the bottom rows in front of the dais. The podium had been obliterated along with the poor clergyman giving a lecture at the time. The charred bodies of the dead and dying were strewn around the blast radius. More bodies created a grim pathway to the exit, where the panicked throng had either trampled each other, or they had been shot down as they ran.

  Jude felt the shockwave of the bullet as it sped just past his right cheek. Reflex made him duck back down, as adrenaline surged through his chest. Emily slapped him on the back of the head.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” She whispered angrily. “Tell me before you even think about doing anything like that!”

  They heard laughter from the lower level, as the men occupying it continued to fire haphazardly in their direction.

  “Hello, Mister Sullivan” called out one of the men in an Eastern European accent. “Why don’t you come out and talk to us. No one here has anything left to say.” A shot rang out from his rifle accompanied by the thump of a bullet sinking into flesh. The man was shooting the dead bodies around him in his bloodlust.

  “Screw you, man!” Jude challenged. “This was a peaceful gathering. You had no right to do this!” Another shot found its mark in the wall above their heads.

  “You know why we’re here. Our bosses were very unhappy to see everyone trying to see eye to eye, especially when they found out your little whore was involved. You should not try to resist it, you know. It’s better to obey than become a slave or die.”

  Jude fired blindly from behind the table in anger. “I’d rather die a free man than have anything to do with the likes of you!”

  Their antagonist replied smugly, “I was actually hoping you would say that.” Bullets riddled the wall above him, showering him with pieces of wood and plastic. Jude lay as close as he could to the floor, preparing for the bullet that would penetrate the table and kill him. He glanced up and saw Emily holding her hands out in front of her. Sweat ran down her face, as she concentrated. He couldn’t figure out what she was doing, until he saw the bullet pattern on the wall behind them. A circle of wall remained untouched, as if the bullets were being deflected away from them. The hail of gunfire assaulted them for about thirty seconds before it stopped. It was replaced by the sound of a wet gurgle and the thud of bodies falling to the floor.

  A familiar voice called out, “Hey you two! Are you okay? It’s safe to come out now.”

  Eric’s greeting was the most pleasant thing Jude had heard today. He and Emily stood up and waved back at him and Brad. The two mercenaries had snuck into one of the viewing rooms directly above the dais and set up a sniper’s nest. Their assailants had never seen them coming.

  “My heroes!” Emily said weakly in dramatic admiration. “Keep watch over the auditorium, and we’ll make our way around.”

  “Copy that,” responded Eric, as he and Brad assumed defensive positions. “The way should be clear. It seems the majority of the terrorists were going down to the atrium to engage the police assault team.”

  Emily and Jude picked their way over the rubble to the nearest exit to the viewing area. They made a slow, tactical approach through the right-hand corridor toward the room their allies occupied. They could still hear the sound of gunfire on the floors below them, evidence of the confrontation between law enforcement and the aggressors. It seemed that the actual attack on the conference-goers had come to an end.

  The pair approached the viewing room door cautiously to avoid being fired upon by mistake. Jude gave a few slow, soft raps on the closed door to announce their presence. Brad cracked the door open and looked out expectantly. He smiled and ushered them inside before replacing the barricade he had constructed to protect them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The viewing area was one long room divided lengthwise down the center by a wall to effectively make two separate spaces. The side closest to the auditorium sported two tiers with chairs behind glass for spectating, while the side running along the hallway contained a few couches and chairs for lounging. The glass had been shattered by the stage bombing, so its view of the main auditorium made it an ideal sniper’s nest to stop any enemies daring to pass through. Jude and Emily’s attention was drawn away from their new vantage point, however, by a familiar clerical-collared figure relaxing on one of the padded chairs.

  “Antonio! I’m so glad to see you’re alive and well,” exclaimed Jude with a sigh of relief as he gave the man a hug.

  “I am a resourceful man,” Gallo smirked, as they pulled away from each other. He nodded toward the two guns-for-hire. “Luckily, I met these two signori, while I was roaming the halls assisting people.”

  Brad gave a large, flourishing bow of over-exaggerated bravado, and Emily gave a false swoon in playful return. Jude admitted it felt good to relax for a bit.

  “Were you able to find the Archbishop?” He asked, noting they were without their assigned VIP. Brad shook his head sadly.

  Eric spoke, “We found him just outside the doorway of one of the conference rooms. He must have fought to be one of the first people out after the blast, only to be murdered by one of those... things… in the hallway. I remembered seeing these rooms in the schematics and decided this would be a great place to defend our backs and keep our attackers out of the auditorium. It seems like that was the right decision, since it helped us saved you two. We found your friend here tending to the wounded, and he insisted he come with us.”

  He paused, as Brad fired his rifle at another gunman fleeing across the top tier of the auditorium from a pursuing Swiss tactical assault team. He saluted the pursuing peacekeepers and signaling his status as a friendly.

  Jude sighed, “As much as I didn’t like that man, I never would have wished that on him.”

  “This whole thing stinks,” agreed Eric. “Now, can you tell me what the hell is going on here? I think we deserve to know. I saw one of those priests grab a guy and fry him alive, like he had picked up a live wire. The bastard went down easily enough with a head shot, but I’m guessing if he had actually been prepared for me, I might have gotten roasted myself.”

  “I guess it’s inevitable at this point,” Emily stated, as she assumed command of the conversation. “Those men you saw outside were what you would call ‘demon possessed’. We had anticipated some kind of resistance from them, but I never thought they would stage an outright attack like this. Especially not as members of the clergy…”

  Brad abandoned his post to stare at
her in concert with Eric. Both men fought to process what she had just said. Brad was the first to speak.

  “If I hadn’t seen what I’d seen today, I would be the first in line to call you crazy. Hell, I’m still not sure I’m going crazy!”

  Eric nodded absently while Jude assured Brad, “Believe me, I wish you were. So, what’s the plan now?” We need to get out of here and do some damage control. People are going to be in a panic over this one. I mean, it was on international television, after all. This may have done much more harm than good.”

  Emily sat down on one of the chairs. She leaned forward and dejectedly put her pale face into her hands. “I can’t believe how badly this all fell apart. They’ve always kept to the shadows and pulled strings from afar. This is reckless, even for them. Surely this can’t be because I had a hand in this! If those two down there hadn’t mentioned me... It looks like my mission has failed,” she intoned, looking at Jude apologetically.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, my girl,” said Father Gallo in a soothing tone. “The Church had its top people working to make your involvement as secret as possible. It wasn’t too hard, you know. You simply took a holiday to Rome, met one of your favorite authors, fell madly in love, and followed him around the world to support his cause. What I believe we have here is the result of a mole in the Vatican. I’m going to try to procure an audience with the Vicar to discuss it when we get out of here.”

  Eric’s radio had been chirping intermittently the whole time they were in the overlook, but now a mix of French and English voices were beginning to steadily bleed through. He grabbed the radio and inserted himself into the conversation.

  “This is Eric Strauss of TacShield. I and four others have taken refuge in the southeastern overlook of Room One. We are requesting permission to evacuate. Repeat, we are requesting permission to evac.”

  The radio was silent for what seemed like ages before a male voice answered back. “Copy that, Mister Strauss. We are still engaging suspects in the upper floors, but your position should be clear. How can we identify?”