Shades of Blood and Darkness (Templar Chronicles Missions eNovella #1) (2 page)

Both men shook their heads.

"Good. If everything goes smoothly, we'll be back at the commandery by this time tomorrow."

Leaving his men to their tasks, Cade went forward to talk with the pilot and see what arrangements had been made for their landing.

*** ***

They touched down without problem and taxied to the corporate hanger they'd rented for the duration. While Olsen went to round up the rental car, Cade and Riley began unloading their gear from cargo area at the rear of the aircraft. There were four large cases in all. Each case was locked up tight and was sealed with the emblem of the Holy See, making them the sovereign territory of the Vatican itself, off limits to all but their intended recipients. It was the same type of diplomatic protection afforded to the staff members of a foreign nation's embassy and it allowed the Order to move cargo of all types, including firearms, explosives, and supernatural artifacts, about the country with little to no resistance from the authorities. If the authorities couldn't see what was in the box, they certainly couldn't prevent it from arriving at its destination.

Ten minutes after they had finished unloading, Olsen pulled up next to the aircraft behind the wheel of a black Ford Explorer. Cade and Riley quickly put the gear into the rear of the vehicle and then climbed inside. A few moments later the three of them were speeding out of the airport gate.

With Bishop missing, Cade had no choice but to assume that the safe house was compromised. Instead of going there as originally planned, Cade had Olsen drive around for a while until they found a run-down motel on the outskirts of town. Cade went inside and got them three adjacent rooms on the ground floor in the back of the motel, where their comings and goings would be mostly unobserved. Olsen parked the truck in front of the door to the center room and they made short work of unloading the equipment.

Ten minutes later they met in Cade’s room.

“Any luck contacting Bishop now that we’re on the ground?” Cade asked.

Olsen shook his head. “I tried several times on the standard and the back-up frequencies without any luck. I also tried calling his throw-away,” referring to the prepaid cell phone Bishop had purchased to act as an emergency contact number, “ but didn’t get a reply. If he’s there, he’s not in any condition to respond.”

Cade nodded; it was pretty much what he’d expected, but it paid to be thorough.

The black sergeant rubbed the crown of his bald head for a moment, before answering. “Start with the safe house. Maybe he left us a message of some kind to let us know where he was going. If we come up empty at that point, I don’t see any choice but to contact Father Martin and see if he knows anything.”

Martin was their contact at the church, so it made sense to try there if they struck out at the safehouse. It was figuring out what to do next if they failed to find anything at either location that was worrying him.

Deal with that when the time comes,
he told himself.
One thing at a time.

To the others, he said, “Martin might be compromised or even in on this thing from the very beginning, so if we have to hit the church we treat it as hostile territory. Secure the premises first, then ask our questions. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

With that, there wasn’t anything left to do but suit up.

Each team member pulled on a set of grey ceramic body armor that had been blessed by the Holy Father himself and displayed the red cross of the Templars prominently across the chest. In a shoulder holster, each man carried a standard issue HK Mark 23 .45 caliber handgun, complete with a 12 round magazine, a flash suppressor, and laser-targeting device. A combat knife was either affixed to their belts or in a calf sheath on the outside of their boots. Two spare magazines were affixed with Velcro to their left wrists. Their swords, held in tear-resistant nylon sheaths, were slung across their backs, the hilt of the weapon extending just beyond the right shoulder for easy access in the heat of combat. Lightweight Kevlar tactical helmets with built-in communications gear went on their heads.

In addition to the pistol, each man carried his choice of personal weapons. For Riley, it was a Mossberg 590 12 gauge combat shotgun. He was also the team demolitions expert, so he carried an assortment of plastic explosives and detonators in the chest webbing he wore over his armor as well. Olsen's weapon of choice was an HK MP5 compact submachine gun, though on occasion he would swap that for a Barrett Light .50 caliber sniper rifle if the situation demanded it. Bishop had been an expert with all kinds of throwing knives. Only Cade restricted himself to the use of the pistol.

He liked to think his other, more esoteric abilities were all he needed.

When they were ready, the three men left the hotel behind and climbed once more into their vehicle.

*** ***

The safe house was located in a quiet, residential neighbourhood on the south side of town. A thick stretch of woods occupied the right hand side of the street, while several older homes occupied the left. Cade had Olsen drive down the street slowly, occasionally using his high beams to illuminate the house numbers painted on the sides of the mailboxes before moving on again. To the casual observer, it would look as if the men in the car were looking for a particular address. In reality, Cade and Riley were using the time to study the target property, noting entry and egress routes and watching for motion behind the darkened windows that faced out onto the street.

After passing the house once and not finding anything obviously amiss, Olsen drove around the block and pull over to the side of the road in the shadows beneath a large oak, where Cade and Riley slipped out of the vehicle.

The night was dark, the sky above covered with a thick curtain of heavy storm clouds and the rise of the moon still a half hour away. That would help them in their effort to remain concealed. Keeping to the shadows, the two men made their way back down the block until they were hidden in the woods directly opposite the front door of the safe house. Cade clicked his mike twice, giving the signal that they were in position. A moment later Olsen came back down the street in the Explorer and parked along the curb in front of the house. He flipped on the interior light and pretended to study a map.

His companions watched the house carefully, looking for any reaction to Olsen' presence, but none came.

So far, so good.

Cade clicked his mike again.

Upon receiving the signal, Olsen turned off the interior light and exited the vehicle, the map held in his left hand, leaving his right hand, his weapon hand, free. He walked up the path leading to the front door and rang the doorbell. The plan called for him to ask for directions to the airport if someone answered the door, while Cade and Riley covered him from the street. If no one answered, Olsen would signal to the others and they would advance on the house themselves, at which point they would enter the home with the key Bishop had previously sent to them.

Cade watched tensely as Olsen headed up the walk. This was the dangerous part of the plan; if Olsen was attacked and dragged inside the house before the others could get to him, he would be on his own with his companions locked outside, unable to help.

Olsen waited a moment after ringing the bell and then, after receiving no answer, rang it again. When it went unanswered the second time, he stepped off the front steps, checked the street one time to be certain no one unexpected was watching, and then walked around the side of the house, headed for the rear.

Cade and Riley crossed the street and found him waiting at the back door of the house, key in hand. The two men moved into position and Cade signaled for Olsen to go ahead and open it up.

Inside, the house was dark. The three of them fanned out and cleared the structure room by room, but found no sign of Bishop. They returned to the kitchen and with the help of their flashlights checked it over for a note or other communication from their missing teammate. The refrigerator and shelves were stocked with food and several city maps lay on the coffee table in the living room next to the briefcase containing Bishop's communications equipment, evidence that he had been here, but that was all.

There were no clues as to what had happened to him.

Or where he was now.

They were going to have to check out the church.

*** ***

The St. Margaret Catholic Church occupied a small, half-forgotten lot sandwiched between two abandoned tenements. It was made of brick that had long lost its newness, coated as it was by the dust and grime of the city. A small, squat rectory was attached to it by a short covered walkway. A broken-down chain link fence surrounded the property. Here and there small piles of wind-blown trash could be seen trapped up against the fence in the light of the now risen moon.

Cade parked the Explorer along the curb in front of the grounds and the three of them got out. The streets were quiet, hushed even, as if the buildings around them were holding their breath, waiting to see what these intruders would do in their domain. Cade could feel the electrical tension that comes from being watched, but couldn't identify were the feeling was coming from.

They pushed open the gate and made their way over to the church entrance. Once they drew close, they were able to see that the heavy, oak doors of the sanctuary were left partially open. Considering the neighborhood, it was a clear sign that all was not right here.

They entered the church like it was hostile territory.

Riley shoved open the door and let his companions slip inside before taking up a position behind them. Stretching out before them was a large central aisle that extended to the altar fifty feet ahead and divided two sets of pews into equal parts, with aisles stretching down the outside of each section against the walls. On either side of the altar, two small wings formed the horizontal axis of the cross and stretched out of sight. The building was shaped like a cross and the team had entered at its base. The interior was semi-dark, lit only by the soft breath of moonlight that was streaming in through the four windows that were evenly spaced along the left hand wall. The red beams of their laser sights danced about in the semi-darkness like the lights at a rock concert before swiftly coming to rest on the body that had been left lying across the altar at the front of the church.

Making certain that the building was clear was the first priority, however, and so the body would have to wait. Without a word, Riley moved to the left-hand aisle and Olsen moved to the right. Cade waited until they were in position and then gave the hand signal for them to advance simultaneously toward the altar. This would allow them to provide fire support to each other while at the same time make use of the wooden pews as cover should it prove necessary.

They made it to the foot of the altar without incident. Riley and Olsen circled the outer wings without finding anything out of the ordinary before rejoining Cade at the apex of the central aisle. Only at that point, once they were satisfied that they were alone, did the three of them advance on the body lying on the altar.

The man was dressed in the black casual clothing and white clerical collar of a Catholic priest. One leg was draped over the front of the altar, the other hung over the side, bent at the knee. The priest's hands were arranged on his chest with an antique wooden crucifix clasped upright between them.

If it hadn't been for the condition of his skin and face, you might have almost been able to believe he was sleeping, Cade thought idly. Of course there was no way you'd ever make that mistake once you'd gotten a close look at what had been done to him.

Had the man spent the last two hundred years baking in the Arizona deserts, he couldn't have looked any more drained of substance than he did now. The skin of his face was stretched tightly over his skull, as if the flesh beneath had been sucked away, leaving just the thinnest barrier between the air and bone. A quick glance down at the man's hands let Cade know the condition extended there as well and from that Cade guessed that it extended across his entire body. The man's eyes were gone, the empty sockets staring at the ceiling far above. From the position of the man's jaw, it looked like his mouth was frozen open in a silent scream, but the several strips of grey duct tape that were wrapped around his lower face made it difficult to tell for certain.

Olsen was the first to speak.

"Vamps!" he cried, using the common name for something that was in truth far more vicious than the blood-sucking monsters immortalized by Bram Stoker's Dracula. “I knew it! I just knew it! Every time you think you've rooted out the last of them, another batch shows up in their place."

"Ch'iang shih," Cade corrected softly, using the proper name for the Chinese creatures, but he agreed with the general sentiment. If the blood cult they had supposedly been called in to investigate actually turned out to be a pack of Ch'iang Shih, he and his team were in for a nasty fight in the not so distant future.

While his team had never had to face this particular supernatural menace, he had been thoroughly briefed in the past. He did his best now to recall what he had been told.

Also known as the Gui Ren, or Demon People, they were some of the fiercest supernatural creatures ever encountered by the Templars. They had their origins in China and were routinely seen throughout Central and Southeast Asia, but they had rarely been encountered here in the States. According to Asian tradition, they are formed when an individual has an outstanding karmic debt that must be paid, a debt so enormous that it prevents the soul from moving onward through the Great Cycle and forces the body to rise again from death. More often than not, the higher, rational aspect of the soul, the Hun, becomes dormant, leaving the P'o, or the lower, bestial aspect of the soul, in control of the resurrected creature. Neither truly living nor dead, the Ch'iang shih are creatures without Chi, the essence of life, and therefore must constantly steal it from the living in order to sustain their existence while they seek to redeem their debt and rejoin the Great Cycle.