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Authors: Daniel Rafferty

CounterPoint

BOOK: CounterPoint
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CounterPoint

 

"Sooner or later the Human Experiment
will
have to be evaluated, but
not
now"

 

First eBook edition

 

Cover Design by Simon Avery.

 

© Daniel Rafferty 2013

 

All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means including graphic, electronic or mechanical without expressed written consent of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

 

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author.

 

Converted for Kindle by Electric Reads

www.electricreads.com

 

 

Contents

 

Prelude

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

 

Prelude

 

 

Liverpool, 1939

 

Blue, sunny skies and clear seas ruffled with light waves made for a welcoming British seaside picture. A slight, welcoming breeze embraced the city, providing that slender comforting chill. People flocked to the coast for that early summer day out on the beach.

Sitting on the maple tiled balcony floor of their three-storey Victorian home, which overlooked a tree-laden road leading to the beach, was 12-year-old Mary. She was playing with two small blue and pink polka-dot dolls, aware of her father keeping a watchful eye from the glass paned doors. Even with her back to him, she could feel his ever-caring gaze. Folding his newspaper and putting the pipe on the wooden cabinet beside his rocking chair, he stood up. At just over six feet with a good build, he cast an imposing figure and was in excellent shape for nearing fifty. Only the shades of grey and white running through his once-luscious black hair gave hints to his true age. Mary flashed an enormous grin to herself as he came out and sat down beside her. Running his hand through her mop of brown curly hair, he smiled, prompting even more giggling from the young Mary.

“Daddy, if there is going to be a big fight, will you have to go?” asked Mary innocently. Even children weren’t insulated against the swirling rumours of the oncoming war spreading rapidly throughout the country. Yes, some were eager to go and give Germany a good ‘thrashing’ once again, but he knew better. Staring back at his daughter’s big brown, piercing eyes, he could only hope good would prevail. It was one of those moments that, as a father, he wanted to lie. He wanted to tell his child everything would be okay; that the world was a beautiful, innocent, safe place and she would never have a worry. But the stark, difficult fact was that in all probability he would have to go to war, and the likelihood of him coming back was small, so very small.

“Darling, sometimes grownups have to do stuff that seems too dangerous to our children. When you have children of your own one day, you’ll realise that everything you do is ultimately for them, whether it be now or in the future,” answered her father, knowing that he would remember this conversation right to the end, even if that end was a bitter one.

Mary looked down at the ground and stared for a few minutes.  “Will I have to fight, Daddy?” his daughter asked in that innocent, sweet voice, still looking at the ground.

Momentarily lost in thought about the simplicity and ease of childhood, he snapped back harshly to reality.

“No, darling... not today…”  He looked at his daughter and realised that since he may never come back from this war, now may be as good a time as any.  “Mary, I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise never to tell anyone. Now promise me, one of our special handshakes.”

She smiled and agreed, shaking his hand with her little finger. He patted his knee and she jumped onto it, eagerly gazing into his eyes with anticipation.

“This fight is between good and evil, and we’re always on the good side, Mary.  There are many who aren’t, and they can sometimes be stronger but never, ever tougher.  No matter what, always keep your family close and trust no one outside it.  Always.  When you’re all grown up just remember that.”  He kissed his daughter on the forehead and walked back inside, blinking back tears.

Mary sat back down on the warm crimson tiles of the balcony, trying to remember everything her father had said.  It would be the last time she would ever see him.

 

Chapter 1

 

 

Sitting behind his large, black glass desk, Ariel looked every inch the business executive of the modern age. His sharp black suit and sky blue tie highlighted success. The high-back leather chair added to the sleek, modern design of the large square room. Black and white, the mandatory colours of interior offices. He fixed his tie, ensuring it was perfectly straight with a rounded knot. Clothes were never something he felt completely comfortable in, but they were the uniform and had to be endured. The long rectangular desk was usually neat and tidy, always organised. Today however, it was smothered in papers and reports from various other departments and regional offices. As director for the Department of Special Operations he had to liaise with many different departments. A blood-red parchment folder stamped ‘Sacred and Discreet’ stood out prominently against the sea of white and black. The downside to being in Headquarters was that you were always the stop point. Everything came to you.

“Sir, Amber is here to see you,” his assistant’s voice echoed around his office. No need for frivolous electronic intercom devices. His assistant simply spoke into a small fountain-like pen attached to her desk.

“Send her in,” he replied with disinterest, still reviewing his papers and not moving.  Amber was his deputy and kept him up to date with the department’s progress and current operations. She was highly intelligent, articulate and unafraid of bending the rules to get answers, for which (particularly the latter), he promoted her to the role of deputy. Often, he felt that whilst rules should generally be abided by it was sometimes necessary to take a more direct approach. His department in particular could be taxing and they could be required to take instant decisions which couldn’t be passed up the chain of command. Maintaining order often depended on them acting swiftly and decisively.

“One moment Amber,” he asked without looking up, eager to finish reviewing this report.

She sat down in the black armchair directly facing him and crossed her legs. She was quite tall, with a mop of long fiery red hair which only added to her feisty, no nonsense personality. Along to the meeting was her usual massive leather bound brown folder. Not wanting to waste a minute, she started going through it, taking out a thick page here and there.

“Ok, so what’s been happening this week?” asked Ariel, lifting his head up to meet her eyes. He had been on a classified assignment and this was his first day back and had long since discovered that problems tended to crop up when he was not in the office. More irritating, problems tended to crop up that somehow got back to one of your bosses when you were away, making the situation look even worse.

“Well where do we start, sir?” said an exasperated Amber, throwing her hands up in the air in mock surrender. “We’ve got another rise in attacks this week, to the tune of 26 per cent. That brings our current levels to triple the amount from this time last year. I’ve had to pull operatives from non-essential missions to help shore up faltering defence lines in Rome, Jerusalem and Paris. We’re almost at full deployment status. We’re already out of interrogation rooms; I’ve had to second some from other departments. I’ve also spoken to my colleagues in other departments and they’re seeing a rise in demonic activity across the board as well. Clearly this is a build-up to something on a larger scale. Probably something we haven’t witnessed before. The deputy director in the Ministry of Defence told me in confidence that they’ll probably be cancelling all non-essential duties from next week onwards until the current demonic levels subside.”

“Any idea on what’s causing this sudden surge?” queried Ariel, leaning back into his chair and playing with his gold-encrusted, ruby-topped pen.

“Nothing conclusive.  Of course the usual suspects are claiming this is the end of the experiment. That now is the time to evaluate. Some believe demons have been simply regrouping. We have had them on the run for the last couple of hundred years. And up until two years ago we had demonic activity globally down to unprecedented levels. Everyone was patting themselves on the back over it, as were you, sir.”

Ariel rolled his eyes. He was deeply satisfied with the gradual decline in demonic activity over the last one hundred years. His department had been essential in routing out and exterminating demon ringleaders across the globe. He had taken it over at a time when Earth was going through a period of rapid advancement.

“Well it was good times last year,” was his pithy, quick reply.

“‘Last’ and ‘year’ being the words to note in that sentence, sir.  Fortunately we did capture two demons during a skirmish along the Rome-Vatican border. We’re currently interrogating them and should have results soon. I’ve put some of our best people onto it to ensure we get accurate responses. Sir, I must point out that if levels continue to rise we may have to consider calling upon the Ministry of Defence for more manpower. Special Operations won’t be able to continue fulfilling all its designated duties if we continue to pull operatives from assignments and onto the front lines.”

“Yes, obviously,” answered Ariel, pondering the next move. “Get me our current figures on deployments around the globe. I want to know who is where and if they were reassigned. I also want some projections on manpower requirement levels and the deficit we are going to have if demonic incidents continue to rise at the current rate,” ordered Ariel, and Amber immediately nodded at once.  He was actually surprised she wasn’t able to present him with that information on request; she usually had a knack for anticipating what he was going to ask for before even he knew. Things really must have been busy whilst he was away.

“We should also consider cancelling all leave as from now, sir. The numbers at our disposal are far smaller considering the specific nature of our department and we need everyone at the ready. It would definitely have a positive impact on strategic planning and deployment?” she asked, her voice full of determination and resolve. She clearly wanted to be prepared for whatever was coming and he suspected she had heard more than she was currently saying. The problem was that Ariel was a director, cut off from the rumour mills and confined to interacting with his own colleagues. They were what humans would call ‘stuffy’ to say the least. None of them had seen active duty in thousands of years. That was the difference between them and Ariel.

“What’s the rumour mill saying?” he pointedly asked, watching her reaction.

“Obviously it’s off the record,” Amber countered.

“Naturally.”

“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, flicking her curly red hair back behind her ear, “Linda at Defence told me her department has just requested a massive increase in weapons being provided from Heaven. She’s also received instruction to begin increasing security at all regional offices immediately. When she queried this with the director, even he didn’t know what was going on and was simply following orders from Raphael. One of our own operatives says he saw Raphael entering the Vatican, most likely to see the Pope. It seems, sir, we are preparing for a major offensive in response to the rising demonic levels. Linda told me privately the weapon requisition orders are huge, enough to field an entire army.”

BOOK: CounterPoint
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