The Rise of the Fallen (The Angelic Wars Book 2) (26 page)

“
This is actually
the only one that is inside of a city,” Chef said as he stared,
frowning, at the reeking trash that was spilling out of the large
metal dumpster.

“
Problem, Chef?”
George asked as he looked from the cook to the garbage and back
again.

“
Maybe,” Chef
turned and glanced from one end of the alley to the other. It was
perhaps fifty yards long and three wide. Chris could see people
passing along a sidewalk at one end, The other was blocked off by a
chain-link fence. Chef nodded at the dumpster.

“
This is the trash
from the safe-house. And they do have a regular garbage day, Bea. The
bin should not be overflowing like this. Something's wrong.”

The staffers immediately
changed from looking around casually to scanning the area with
narrowed eyes. George and Beatrice quickly paired up and walked
several yards away to stand watching the entrance to the alley, while
Tony and Alexander moved to stand between Chris, Natalie and Chef and
the fenced-off end.

“
You think
something's happened?” Natalie asked Chef, who nodded once.

“
That is why we're
here, after all. No comm from the houses for days.” He looked
one last time at the garbage bin and then turned toward the street.

“
Tony, Alex, we're
moving,” Chef said in a clipped voice. “Cover our backs.
George, Bea, get to the street and have a look. We'll wait near the
entrance until you're sure it's clear.”

None of the staff
answered. They simply followed orders.

Chris and Natalie
exchanged nervous glances and then followed Chef as he walked slowly
toward the entrance to the street. George and Beatrice had reached
the sidewalk and, after a quick glance in both directions, they
stepped out; one moving to the left, the other to the right.

Chef stopped ten feet from
the sidewalk and waited, Chris and Natalie watching anxiously behind
him. Chris looked back and saw Tony and Alexander several yards away,
still watching the other end of the alley closely. He suddenly felt
like he was in some weird spy movie.

Beatrice appeared at the
mouth of the alley. “Clear,” she said quietly. Chef
nodded and looked at Chris and Natalie,

“
Okay. The entrance
to the safe-house is to the left and around the corner. I'll send Bea
and George that way. The three of us are going to cross the street
when we leave the alley, walk up and take a look from a distance
while they stroll casually by the front door.”

He raised his voice so
that Tony and Alexander could hear him.

“
Give us time to
cross the street and then you two follow. Leave some room between us.
That way you will be able to pick up on anyone following. Clear?”
The two men nodded. “Good. Let's go.”

The trio emerged from the
alley and Chef gave Bea and George a subtle hand signal to go left.
Both of them began to move in that direction. Chris noted that they
walked separately, as if they didn't know each other.

Chef looked both ways,
waited for a car to pass and then crossed the street with Chris and
Natalie in tow.

Chris noticed that the
houses here were almost all connected, three-story units. Their large
front doors opened directly on to the sidewalk. The houses seemed
quite old but were clean and well maintained.

People were passing by
them but there wasn't the frenetic, I've got to get somewhere,
attitude that Chris remembered so well from living in Toronto. Folks
were chatting and laughing and more than one person who passed them
gave him a polite smile. Cars were parked on both sides of the
street, with a lot of Mercedes and BMW models evident. The sidewalks
were very clean.

“
Try to look like
you fit in,” Chef said under his breath. “Walk slowly,
and talk about anything you like. And Chris, stop staring at Bea and
George.”

Chris had been watching
the two staffers intently and felt himself blush at Chef's
admonition. He quickly looked away and stared at the sidewalk in
front of him.

Natalie chuckled under her
breath and began to talk about a trip she had taken to Vienna many
years ago with her parents. It was glib, mindless prattle and Chris
was impressed by her ability to ad-lib at a time like this. His own
nerves were strung as tightly as guitar strings.

Chef nodded and smiled as
Natalie spoke, all the while keeping a subtle eye on Beatrice and
George. When he and the two teens reached the corner, across from
where the two staff members turned to walk toward the safe-house's
front door, he stopped and the three of them stood casually, talking
about nothing and looking around carefully.

A quick glance confirmed
to Chris that Tony and Alex were a dozen yards behind them, chatting
amiably and pointing at the various houses. They looked like a pair
of friends having a discussion about architecture and he was
impressed by their acting skills.

While Chef and Nat kept up
their conversation, Chris lowered his head as if staring at the
ground and watched Bea and George through the hair that suddenly
covered his face.

The two strolled by the
front door of the house. Chris could really only see it from the
side, but the house itself easily took up half of the block that it
was built on. On the side facing them, the only window was on the
third floor and the sheer wall below it was unmarked and solid; no
one could have reached that window without a fireman's ladder.

Chef caught his eye, and
Natalie's, and then led them across the street when the light turned
green. They turned left, waited and then crossed again.

Now they were directly
across from the safe-house and Chef casually moved down the block,
continuing his empty chatter with Natalie, while Chris did his best
to look like he fit in.

His nerves were starting
to kick in though, and Chris actually jumped when a car's brakes
squealed as it suddenly braked for a pedestrian who had darted
through traffic. The following honk startled him even more.

“
Chris, for God's
sake, relax,” Natalie muttered out of the side of her mouth.
“You look like a rabbit that's about to be grabbed by a hawk.”

He looked at her and saw
concern on her broad face. Chris tried to smile but he couldn't seem
to manage it.

“
I'm okay, Nat,”
he said quietly. “I just have that feeling again, like
something's watching us.”

Chef was deliberately
looking at Natalie but said, “You mean someone, don't you?”

“
No, I mean
something. I feel all exposed out here.” He looked around with
little darting glances, suddenly sure that every one of the people
who were passing by were staring at him out of the corners of their
eyes. He didn't like it, not a bit.

“
Take it easy. We'll
meet up with Bea and George when we reach the next corner and hear
what they have to say.” Chef sounded calm and Chris drew in a
shuddering breath, trying to emulate the big man.

“
I think we'd better
find a coffee shop instead, Chef,” Natalie said as they
continued strolling along. “I'm starting to feel a bit skittish
as well. Better to talk some place a little more private than a
public street.”

Chef nodded once. “Fine,”
he said. “I haven't been here in a few years, but I remember a
little place two blocks down. We'll head there. The others will
follow. But slowly now. Don't draw attention.”

Chris felt a wave of
relief when they finally arrived at the small coffee shop and slipped
inside. They found a table at the back next to the wall that was big
enough for all seven of them and waited for the staff members to join
them before ordering.

“
Coffee all around,”
Chef told the small, cheerful woman who served them. “Whatever
your most popular blend is. And some pastries, please. Whatever is
freshest will be fine.”

Their server nodded,
answered in lightly accented English and left. Chef looked around the
table.

“
Okay. Reports
please. Bea, you first.”

Beatrice looked around the
shop, seemed to be reassured that there was no one listening nearby
and began to speak.

“
The safe-house is
intact, but the mail slot in the front door is stuffed with envelopes
and fliers. And I mean stuffed. I doubt that you could squeeze one
more slip of paper into it. The front steps are covered with leaves
and bits of trash. We all know that the judge insists that all
facilities be kept in immaculate condition. At a guess, I'd say that
no one has swept those stairs in at least three days.”

She stopped and looked at
George, who nodded.

“
Essentially what I
noticed. But I'll add that the two front windows on either side of
the door have their blinds drawn. Unusual for this time of day.”
He looked intently at Chef. “The left-side window has a small
crack in the lower right corner. Unacceptable by the judge's
standards. That's it.”

“
Thank you,”
Chef said and then sat back as the server returned with a tray loaded
with full coffee cups, cream and sugar. She served them and promised
to return with the pastries.

Everyone took a moment to
enjoy their drinks. Chris loaded his down with cream and sugar and
then sipped it slowly. It tasted wonderful and he felt himself
relaxing for the first time since they had arrived. Natalie gave him
an inquiring glance and he smiled in return.

The server returned once
more and left them an enormous plate loaded down with croissants,
turnovers and strudel. Chris was suddenly ravenous and grabbed three.
Beatrice looked at him with wide eyes and then laughed gently. He
shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed, but started eating anyway. He
was starving.

“
Tony and Alexander.
Anything to report?” Chef asked through a mouthful of buttered
croissant.

The two men exchanged
glances and Tony gestured for the other man to go ahead.

“
Just one thing from
me, Chef,” Alexander said in his broad accent. “There was
a right mess beyond that chain fence at the end of the alley. The
backyard of the residence, wasn't it?” Chef nodded. “Right.
Well, I saw some broken furniture and a couple of lamps tossed in a
heap. Now, unless they've decided to redecorate, I'd say that place
has been ransacked, but good.”

“
I have only one
thing to add,” Tony said in his quiet, studious voice. “There
was a splash of red on the top bar of the fence. Perhaps it was just
rust or paint, but my hunch is that someone tried climbing out of the
backyard and...wasn't successful.”

Chris felt his appetite
drain away. Oh this is bad, he thought. This is so bad.

Apparently Chef agreed,
because he turned and looked directly at him.

“
Ask Sariel if we
can leave, right now. I think your feelings are right, Chris. We've
stepped into something and we'd better move out before that something
steps back, on us.”

Chris swallowed the last
bite of his apple turnover, feeling it crawl down his throat like a
mouthful of sand. He washed it down with a gulp of coffee and looked
out of the front window of the shop as he felt inside for Sariel.

Are you there?

I am here,
Sariel's reply echoed through his mind.
I have
been observing. The big man is correct. There is something in the
air. I cannot say what, but we must escape this place immediately.

Okay, great. Where
should we go to open a door to the Road?

I feel a terrible
presence, my friend. It is approaching too quickly to find a secluded
spot. Although it is risky, I will endeavor to take us on to the
Angel's Road from here. Warn the others not to move. It will be
painful, but it is the quickest way.

Chris shivered. What was
coming? If he heard the thought, Sariel made no reply.

“
He says that
something is coming our way, Chef,” Chris said abruptly,
cutting through a whispered conversation between George and Bea. They
both looked at him in surprise.

“
What is it? What's
coming?” Chef's steady voice calmed Chris down a bit, like an
anchor that stops a boat from tumbling down a turbulent stream.

“
He doesn't know. Or
he won't tell me. Same difference, really. He says that we have no
time to go someplace hidden to get on to the Road. He's going to take
us directly from here.” Chris looked at everyone in turn.
“Whatever happens, don't move.”

He didn't tell them that
it would hurt. They had enough to worry about as it was.

“
From here?”
George looked at the several people scattered around the coffee shop
and at the server moving from table to table. “Isn't that going
to be a bit...conspicuous?” he asked with a quirk of his
eyebrow.

“
Yes, probably,”
Chef answered as he watched Chris closely. “But if Sariel's
right, and we'd be fools to believe otherwise, then I don't see that
we have a choice.” He clasped his hands together and rested
them on the table. “Okay, Chris. Tell him that we're ready
anytime he is.”

You heard?