The Unearthing (34 page)

♦♦♦

“And by morning, the Son of the Lamb will become the Scapegoat,” He muttered, freezing the image on the portable console. Those who had stolen the souls of people of this world, those who sought to use the Ship for their ends were now calling Him a criminal. But He knew He would be remembered forever as the Saviour. But they had to try and make the world hate Him. Otherwise Prophecy would not come true. The House of God on Earth itself would reject Him. The Catholic Church, which so blasphemously spoke of itself as that same House of God, had already fulfilled that part of the divinations. Now, the House of Man would oblige Him by fulfilling the next part. His Ascension was imminent. All was proceeding exactly as the Angel foretold. He looked out at the Ship and revelled in the sound of its seductive song. There was only a short distance to go before He was standing on its golden surface: the slow climb down to the Ship, itself. The Angel had shown Him in the Dream how the canyon wall had collapsed where the Salado Falls had until recently flowed. Now with the Rio Salado diverted the Falls had become a rock climber’s challenge. But the Angel had shown Him how to get down. And so down towards the Ship, the Chariot of God, He would go, all the while knowing His enemy was above, hunting Him, coming for Him as he had from the beginning of these last events, before His Ascension.

♦♦♦

“Rook One, do we have intel?” Jude never faced away from the building. A double barricade of mobile shield walling stood between him and the macadam road dividing them from the Church of the United Trinity. Rook One worked behind him, while Rooks Three and Four did a final weapons check. Control and Rooks Two and Five were skyside in the helicopter. Rook One linked the data to the headset Jude wore. The information was transmitted directly onto his eye from the micro scanner boom. He read the information using a series of eye movements and blinks to scroll through. Hardware twenty years from being low-tech enough to go public was at his command. Jude swivelled the viewer boom up and turned to Rook Three.

“Let me have the McAllister.30 calibre,”

“We going to pick them off one by one, Knight?” Rook Four asked, jokingly.

“Stow that, soldier; we’re just giving them a sign that their End Times have come.” As they spoke, Rook Three retrieved the specified rifle from its case, snapped its components together and produced the ammunition magazine for Jude. The Colonel took the gun and leaned over the side of a low section of plating. A flip of a switch on the bulky scope and he had a brilliant blue and yellow CG image of the interior of the Church of the United Trinity Observants.

“Knight to Control,” He said into his mic, “Target in check, using TMI scanning.” Jude had selected a target at the far end of the church itself, a stoned mad faithful member of Ashe’s congregation, who seemed to be gently caressing an assault rifle cradled like a newborn in his lap. The shot was set up perfectly so that the front of the man’s head would blow off, sending bone, blood and grey matter flying right at Ashe’s altar – and hopefully right into his face.

Jude wanted them to know they were being hunted. He wanted Ashe to know. He wanted Ashe to die last. He contemplated this, while waiting for Control to make whatever command verifications were formally required for the slaughter to begin.

“Confirm target acquisition Knight,” Control said.

“Pawn in check,” Jude said, leaning into the gun, staring into the scope. He watched his oblivious target, knowing what his prey did not: that they would be dead in seconds. Jude felt no remorse, no sympathy for his target, or for the rest of Ashe’s armed, murderous followers. They would all die believing they were somewhere safe, somewhere secure. They would die knowing no mercy, only retribution for the horrors they’d visited on the world tonight.

“Knight, Control.”

“Go ahead Control,”

“Move for checkmate; move for checkmate; move for checkmate.”

“Pawn in checkmate,” Jude replied. He squeezed the trigger ever so slowly, ever so gently. There was a hollow sound as the gun fired and in the next instant the stoned Apostle’s head exploded.

“Checkmate.” Jude said, dryly, a grimly satisfied smile on his cold features.

♦♦♦

He opened His eyes with a start as something hot and wet sprayed Him. Ashe heard His disciples scream in alarm and watched as one of His flock fell, headless to the floor. Ashe stood up, trying to understand where the shot had come from. His Apostles moved to make a human shield around Him. Such was their love of Him that where His Father’s Apostles had betrayed and denied Him, His Apostles were ready to die in His Name. A moment later the back wall of His Church rattled with gunshots and His followers in the back rows convulsed as they were sprayed with bullets. As the doors into His Church were blown inwards by His enemies’ weapons, Ashe was ushered by His loving Apostles back into the Sacristy and the Sanctuary they hoped was beyond.

Ashe’s flock were stoned sitting ducks for Jude and his troops. He and his men wore full body armour and they moved in quickly and ruthlessly on their targets. Rooks Three and Four were the vanguard, equipped with short-barrelled “house-cleaner” automatic shotguns, hosing down the opposition inside. Rook One and Two covered them from behind, taking out anyone they hadn’t with assault rifles. Jude took up the rear, compact machine gun at the ready. He was after only one target. His men could handle the rest, but Gabriel Ashe was his. As his guard fanned out into the church Jude shut out the screams for help and surrender coming from the panicked followers of this doomed cult. Some tried to organize themselves enough to return fire, but had no chance to respond. None of it mattered. Jude had spotted his prey heading out the back of the church.

“King sighted, Control. Moving to the rear of the building. Get me intel.”

“We’re moving around for scan of the structure now Knight,” came Control’s reply. Above a helicopter flew silently, scanning the compound. Jude climbed up past the altar towards the doors towards the back of the building as all sounds of gunfire ceased. There were a few moans, weak and frightened, but they would soon each by silenced by single gunshots. Jude listened to his footsteps echo on the dais of the altar.

“Area secure!” Rook Three declared. Rooks One and Four circulated, delivering headshots to wounded survivors. Jude approached the open doorway into the sacristy.

“Knight you have one to the right of the door on the other side of that wall,” Control called. Jude said nothing, simply tracked his rifle to the right of the doorway. He fired twice and watched as a corpse fell across the threshold.

“Removed,” Jude said.

“You’re clear into the next room.”

“Roger that,” Jude moved through, finding a deserted antechamber. A large locked steel cabinet dominated the back wall of the room and stood guard to the left of an open doorway, leading down a hall.

“What do I have here, Control?” Jude asked into his mic.

“That passage leads to the office area,” Control said, “The only other exit leads to Ashe’s private suite. The hall and offices are clear but thermals show six people in the suite. No movement on the perimeter. He’s still in the building.”

“All Pieces’ status?” Jude called.

“Rook Four guarding flank,” Rook One replied, “Rooks One and Three en route to the residence building. Do the orders stand?”

“Confirmed Rook One,” Jude said, “Take out armed resistance only. All other targets are live capture.”

“Roger that.” Rook One came back. Jude continued into the back of the church, towards Ashe’s residence.

He dropped two more of Ashe’s fanatical followers as he crossed into the first floor of the residence. One of the pair had actually managed to get a shot off at Jude before being killed. The shot went wide, but it was still startling.

“Jesus Christ!” Jude pressed a hand reflexively against his earpiece at his subordinate’s exclamation.

“What is it, Rook Three?”

“They’re all dead!”

“Who?”

“The cultists,” Rook Three came back, “They’re all dead; every last fucking one of them!”

“How?”

“It looks like poison,” Rook One replied over the commlink, “There are a few who seem to have been strangled, one or two were shot, but there’s no one left alive in here.”

“Close the hunt then,” Jude ordered, “Call in the local paramedics to evacuate the bodies; tell them we have people in pursuit of Ashe and the last of his followers.”

“Confirmed Knight,” Rook One said. Jude continued through Ashe’s suite, heading now up the stairs to the second level.

“Knight: one on the landing around the corner to your left,” Control warned. Jude froze. A few more steps and he’d be in range of their weapon before he could get a bead on this threatened ambush. Turning around he loaded a small grenade into his weapon’s launcher and backed up the staircase, aiming for the landing above. He fired and tuck-rolled back down the stairs as the explosion concussed. Shrapnel and debris scattered across the stairs and the smell of smoke and torn flesh was strong. Jude raced to the landing. The walls and carpet in the blast zone of his grenade were wrecked; charred and smouldering. His would-be attacker was now sprawled where she had been thrown by the blast: down the hallway leading to the upper rooms of the suite, still alive but dying, her weapon dropped in the blast, the right side of her body a torn and bloodied ruin. She looked at him hatefully as he put two shots in her head. Three cultists left, one of them Ashe.

“Knight, we have egress out the back!” Control called, “Three down the hall to the right.” Jude charged in that direction, weapon to bear. He watched as the last of Ashe’s followers dropped out the window. Jude fired, uselessly. He reached the window and was shocked to see that they’d dropped down an aluminum chute underground. He dropped another grenade down the chute and took cover. The explosion belched a rush of air and smoke.

“Control, they had a rabbit hole! Do a ground sweep; I think they’re heading to the sewers.”

“Roger that, Knight,” Control replied. Jude contemplated dropping down the chute and thought better of it. If he’d nailed anyone down there, they were dead. If not, there was no telling what the inside of that chute looked like. It could be blown to Christ from the grenade, or worse, it could be booby-trapped and waiting for him.

“Son of a bitch,” he swore and then issued the command for his troops to gather at the back of the building, to start the hunt for Ashe as he himself made his way down and out.

“Knight we have them,” Control announced as Jude reached the back stairs outside. Jude turned to Rooks One, Three and Four. All of them wore the same expression: that of a hunter who has found fresh tracks leading to their prey.

“Location?”

“Two kilometres southwest of you,” Control replied as Jude and his personnel made for their transport, “They seem to be heading for the South Gate.”

“They’re heading for the Ship,” Jude growled. He and his troops climbed aboard the Ranger parked behind the Church and sped off.

“They’re going the wrong way Knight,” Control advised.

“Not if they’re making for the Salado Gulch,” Jude countered, “Which is exactly where that son of a bitch is heading.”

“Take the Rio Salado riverbed to the drop-off and try and climb seven kilometres straight down?” Rook One asked, “Colonel, that would take the better part of the day.”

“I don’t think he cares,” Jude said, “But either way Ashe won’t reach the drop-off.”

They sped down the streets of the Village even now still mostly deserted after the madness of the previous night. Soon they could see the helicopter in the sky ahead, on the trail of Gabriel Ashe and his two remaining followers.

“We have them Knight,” Control called, “Target in check.”

“Arm mag pulse and fire,” Jude said. But then over his headset, sounds of alarm and panic could be heard:

“Jesus Christ! Pull up! Pull up!”

“Fuck! Fuck!” and then an electronic wailing noise. There was a burst of static, a thundering sound and then more sounds of electronic distress before Rook Two came on the link.

“Knight, we’ve been hit; we’ve been hit! RPG fire; we’re going down!”

“What is the target’s position?” Jude asked with alarm, “Are they attainable?” But all he heard in reply was shouting and panic. There was a violent noise and then a moment’s silence, where static was dominant.

“Rook Five to Knight,” Came the signal a few moments later, “We’re down. Target en route for the riverbed. They’re you’re kill now Sir. It’s out of our hands.”

“Understood Rook Five,” Jude said. “Knight out.” Jude turned to Rook One, who nodded grimly. He pressed the accelerator to the floor and the Ranger shot from the confines of the Village into the open desert beyond. They were going after the son of a bitch and they had no intention of failing. Jude had no desire to ever return to this patch of desert and the failure it represented. Even a record of black ops and other sundry deleteds could carry bad marks and his failure to suppress the Type Seven Alpha that had become known worldwide as the Ship was doubtlessly the worst on his record. Killing Gabriel Ashe would by no means expunge that blight, but it would go a long way towards soothing Jude’s pride and redeeming him in the eyes of his superiors, those who controlled not only his missions but his expendability. Jude didn’t want or need to be red-shirted on his next op.

They were nearing the riverbed. Ashe would be somewhere ahead of them; not yet in the dry gulch, but closer to it than Jude. Nevertheless, the advantage would be Jude’s. When Ashe finally descended into the riverbed Jude would be there waiting. He only wished he had the advantage of airborne support, but that was no longer an option. They’d nail Ashe, that was certain. Jude had no interest in letting him get near to the Ship.