The Kasparov Agenda (Omega Ops Legion Book 1) (39 page)

Bruce mustered the strength to lift his head back up. “You’re not Scorcher... Your power is unlike anything he’s ever had.” He spoke through labored breaths. “You’re not Scorcher...you’re not...”

Scorcher smiled. “Very good, Bruce. I’m like you, I suppose. A god amongst men. Someone to be revered and worshipped...because they cannot understand my nature, and my abilities far extend the breadth of their knowledge. Perhaps you and I will become friends when we meet again in the afterlife...where we are all one with the universe.”

Despite Bruce’s dire situation, he managed a smile. “You even
sound
more deranged than
Scorcher.”
 

Scorcher shook his head, amused. “Oh, Bruce...so young... So naive and misguided. If you could only fathom the things I’ve seen—the things I’ve done in my time on this planet... But that’s for another time.” The figure in front of Bruce began to let out a low rumbling laugh. “Watch closely now.”

Bruce stared as Scorcher’s entire body began to glow. He appeared to be getting bigger... His features were turning dark—
jet black
. The light was fading. Bruce was forced to look higher and higher up as the thing in front of him continued to increase in size. It was now towering over him. And his face—Scorcher’s already ghoulish face had twisted and contorted into something much more horrific... Darkness...
A demon
.

Bruce Kasparov stared into the abyss and blinked. “Who...what the hell
are
you
?”

The menacing figure bared its fangs and breathed a whisper... “
Death
.
”

The blast that came from inside Kasparov Manor reverberated through the streets. And lost in the deafening noise was the distant scream of a life being snuffed from existence...

A large fireball shot out of the second-floor window of the manor. It went straight down into the road with such force and speed that it left a smoking impact crater. The fireball had hit the side controlled by police forces. The flames began to dissipate, and the smoke cleared. Finally, all that was left in the crater was Bruce.

 The fighting had stopped.
In that instant—
everything
had stopped
. Attentions were drawn to the figure looming in the window. But it wasn’t the thing Bruce had seen. It appeared to be Scorcher. His hands glowed, and he began raining down a firestorm upon police forces. “It’s done! Fall back!” Scorcher shouted to his men. He single-handedly cleared a path, destroying police vehicles and allowing the select few of Scorcher’s men still on their feet to rush to vehicles and clear out. Scorcher covered their retreat with a barrage of fire bombs. Police fired upon Scorcher and watched him stand his ground, completely unfazed. Scorcher laughed at their futility. Once his men had safely cleared the area, Scorcher propelled himself out of the window to the shocks and screams of onlookers and flew out into the night sky.

Roy and Henry had rushed to Bruce’s side. There was a crowd gathering around the crater.
His body was limp
. The back of Bruce’s head rested gently in Roy’s hand. “...Bruce! ...
Bruce
...”

His vision was in darkness. His mind was going fuzzy
. He’s a monster
... This monster...he came after him, and he would go after his son next. And he was completely powerless to stop it...
No.
He wasn’t going to give into despair. It was a tenet of life he lived by. He never gave in before and he wouldn’t now—
even when lying on his death bed
. His son could do it...no, he
will
do it. He will. He can defeat the monster.
Train hard, Alex.
And with this final thought, his mind relaxed, and he breathed his last.
 

***

He felt a sharp pain in his arm. He was drifting in and out of consciousness. He could ignore the pain and settle in for a long sleep. But there it was again—this time more forceful. And then it all came back to him...

 “Argh!” Santos jarred awake, coughing weakly. He was lying on his back and smoke began to sting his eyes. As he strained to get up, he felt the pain in his arm again. He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the imprints of bite marks in his forearm. Leonardo was waiting patiently by Santos’ side. Santos mustered a grin. “Thanks, Leo.” The entire building was in ruin and they were surrounded by fire. He could feel the intense heat from the flames. “C’mon, Leo, we have to get out of here.” Santos gathered all his willpower to carry his severely weakened self through the debris. “Leo, we gotta move!” Santos looked over his shoulder and realized that Leonardo was limping—his back leg appeared to be broken. Santos walked back. “I got you, bud.” With an extra boost of effort, Santos picked up Leo, and together, they marched out of the burning mansion.

“Peter! Thank God.” Laura rushed towards Santos. He held out his hands for her to take Leo. Once she did, Santos collapsed onto the ground. Several other officers rushed over to help. The fire department was now on the scene, alongside paramedics and ambulances. Firefighters were battling valiantly against the raging flames. The manor had taken a lot of damage, and it was doubtful that whatever little bit they could save would be worth restoring.

Santos looked up at Laura as two officers picked him up off the ground. “Bruce—where’s Bruce? Is he still inside?”

Laura looked at him solemnly and shook her head. “No...”

Santos breathed a sigh of relief. “Good...good.” His eyes were still smarting. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision to the night. What he saw weighed tremendously on his heart. Police were being wheeled away on stretchers; the bodies of enemies and allies alike were strewn out on the road. The paramedics were overwhelmed.
These were the fruits of their labor
.

***

Varick and the others had managed to set up the zip-line to the opposite roof. Once all four of them reached the other side, Varick secured a rope from the roof down to the street. One by one, they rappelled down the side of the building until everyone was standing on solid ground, safely away from the battle zone.

Alex looked to Varick. “So, where do we go from here?”

Varick narrowed his eyes. “You lot take off. Frank, take care of Alex—don’t know how large Scorcher’s blanket over this area is.”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “And what about you? Don’t tell me you’re going back...”

“I have to.”

Stanley scoffed at him. “Are you stupid? You just got shot.”

“Nothing debilitating.”

Frank placed a hand on Varick’s shoulder. “I understand your desire to help over there, but this is a large-scale battle. Bruce and Santos—they have their powers. The police have their weapons. You, on the other hand, are planning to fight with
neither
. If you go over there now, you’re liable to get yourself killed.”

“I still might be able to help the situation. I won’t know unless I go.”

“I need your help
here
. Like you said, how many more of Scorcher’s men are posted around here, we don’t know. Bruce wanted you here, Varick. To help get his son out of harm’s way.”

Varick blinked.
He had responsibilities here too.
If anything happened to Alex while he was gone, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.
 

“Don’t worry about me, Varick. I’ll be fine,” Alex reassured. “You do what you think is best.”

Varick’s cell phone began to vibrate. He was still racking his brain on what to do. He answered the call:

“Yeah?”

“Varick, it’s Roy. The fight’s over... Come back to the manor.”

Varick went wide-eyed. “It’s over? What happened?”

There was a brief silence on the other end. “Just get back here...”

Varick hung up the call and looked at the others. He knew something was wrong.

“What is it?” Frank asked.

Varick clenched his fists anxiously. “We have to go back.”

***

Paramedics tried to get Santos onto a stretcher, but he pushed them aside. “Laura, take me to Bruce. How’s he doing?” Laura stared at Santos, not knowing what to say. He waited anxiously for a response, but she said nothing. Santos’ eyes grew wide. He placed both hands on her shoulders. “Laura...
where is Bruce?
”

She bit her lip and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She pointed behind her where a small circle of people were. Santos walked towards them; his legs were shaking. He pushed past the crowd—and there he was. Paramedics had Bruce on a stretcher. Roy Cameron, Henry Schucker, and Captain Morring were by his side. Santos stood frozen in place.

Roy walked over to Santos. “They tried to resuscitate him. He’s gone.” Santos slowly walked up to Bruce. He stared down at his lifeless body and the crushing reality of the situation bore down upon Santos all at o
nce.
He was completely and utterly overwhelmed
.
 

Varick and the others had returned to the battlefield. “What happened?!” Varick demanded, as he pushed to the front.

Varick, Frank, Alex, and Stanley convened around Bruce’s body. Frank’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my god...” Alex didn’t say a word. He didn’t know what to think as he stared down at his dead father. Stanley placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder and hung his head. Everyone present was feeling the pain.

Varick balled his hands into fists, then glared at Santos. “How did this happen?”

Santos couldn’t bring himself to look anyone in the eyes. “I—I don’t know.”

“It was Scorcher,” Roy answered.

Varick turned to Roy. “Scorcher? Scorcher did this to Bruce?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe it. Scorcher has never been a match for Bruce.”

“He shot him right out of the window. Everyone saw it.”

Varick blinked several times before turning his attention back to Santos. “...And where were you?” He marched right up to him, inches from his face. “WHERE WERE YOU?!” Varick roared, shoving Santos with both hands.

Santos fought hard to restrain his tears. “I didn’t see him coming...he got me...”

“Yet here you stand instead of Bruce... You were supposed to have his back.” Varick gritted his teeth. He raised a fist to Santos, then lowered it. Instead, he vented his anger on the nearest squad car. His punch smashed clean through the driver’s side window.

“Hey! That’s my car!” an officer yelled out.

Captain Morring took the officer aside. “Let him be.”

“Varick...” Santos wanted to explain what happened. “There was something different about him tonight...about Scorcher...” Before he could finish, Varick turned his back to him and stormed off. Santos felt such terrible pain, not caused by the physical wounds Scorcher had inflicted upon him. He opened his mouth to call out to Varick, but no words came out. He couldn’t say the words that he desperately wanted to speak aloud... To say that he did everything he could.

Laura stood by Alex. She wiped her tears to hold up a brave front and embraced him in a hug. “Alex, I’m so sorry.” Alex looked down at his feet and remained silent.

***

A wet snow had started to fall. It was the first hours of a new day. A new year.
A new millennium
. Santos had been aimlessly walking the streets for hours since the incident. He had finally stopped in front of his church. It was once a place he could go to unburden himself from the trials of life. A refuge.
His sanctuary
.
But not anymore
. Nevertheless, he went inside.

3:40 a.m.

He ran a hand down his damp hair and over his face. He was soaked to the bone. Santos sat down in the nearest pew in the back row. The only lights in the church were the few candles by the altar. He raised his head to look up at the cross.

“Well, here I am again,” he said aloud. He felt lightheaded; his eyes were red. He had a sudden urge to laugh. Just burst out laughing. He stifled the notion by biting down on his fist. Tears began to well up again. “He’s really gone...” He shook his head.
Why did this happen?
He was always able to make sense of the tragedies of life. But there was no end to it. They would continuously accumulate until despair finally threatened to swallow a person whole.
It was a never-ending sea of tragedy
.

“Where was I?” Santos asked aloud. “I was attacked and left for dead.” He stared intensely at the cross, grinding his teeth. “Where were you?” His fist lightly tapped on the pew in front of him. “Where were you...” He hit the pew harder and harder. “WHERE WERE YOU?!” He stood up with a burning anger that he had never felt before. His hands heated up as he squeezed the backrest of the pew—the wood crumbled in his hands. He was breathing hard, and his hands were now glowing. He raised his fist...

“Peter?” Father Christy had emerged from the rectory. “Peter, is that you?” He rubbed his eyes and squinted in the dark. Santos yelled out and put his fist through the back of the pew. “No, don’t!” Father Christy rushed over. Another punch, another hole. Father Christy tried to restrain Santos’ arm, but lost his grip the second Santos took another swing. He resorted to slapping Peter on the shoulder instead. “Peter! PETER! Get a hold of yourself!”

Santos dropped his hands and looked over his shoulder. “Bruce is gone. They killed him.” He collapsed onto the pew and buried his face in his hand.

Father Christy took a moment to run his fingers over the charred wood. He dusted the ashes off his fingertips, then sat down beside Santos. “Peter, what happened?”

“He’s dead...” Santos repeated. “So many dead...”

Father Christy held Santos’ wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. Father Christy looked into Santos’ bloodshot eyes. “
What happened
?”

“Scorcher. He was in Greenwich Village, sharp at midnight. He came to the manor.
Our home
.”