Bones of Angels (9 page)

Hawkeye made no reply.

Mont St. Michel

Off the Coast of France

Charles Whittington’s hands were tied to the wooden spindles of a straight-back chair. His face was haggard and bloody. He’d been given no food and only an occasional sip of water.

Reynard paced back and forth in the small monastic cell like a demon. “How do I activate the bones?” he said, his voice urgent and angry. “What prayer must I say?  What ritual must I perform to reanimate the Archangel?  Tell me!”

“You’re a fool,” Charles said weakly.

Reynard slapped Charles across the face, then backhanded him. The priest’s knuckles drew blood from Charles’ upper lip.

“You do not understand the Codex Angelorum.”

“Don’t mock me, Professor!  I can read like anyone else.”

“Then you should be able to gather all the information you need by yourself,” Charles said.

Reynard commenced beating Charles again. The savagery of his blows spoke of a man consumed by his mission.

Altitude: Fifteen Thousand Feet

Off the Coast of France

Hawkeye, Tank, DJ, and Shooter plummeted to earth, having jumped from Titan Global’s C-17 Gobemaster in the night sky above the island of Mont St. Michel. Air screamed past their rigid bodies, arms flat against their sides, as they dove toward the earth. They were engaged in a HALO jump — High Altitude, Low Opening — in attempt to land on the rocky coastline surrounding the old monastery and cathedral. They knew that Father Reynard and his acolytes were already there.

At an altitude of one thousand meters, the Titan force deployed their stealth Gryphon gliders, virtual wings made of lightweight carbon.

“How does it feel to be gliding like an angel, Hawkeye?” Shooter asked over her COM set.

The team leader ignored the barb.

“Circle the island as we continue descending,” Hawkeye ordered. “Aim for the southern coast. This chunk of rock doesn’t have much of a landing zone, but the south shore is our best chance to land on something relatively flat.”

“Think they’re expecting company?” asked DJ, who was spiraling down toward the island.

“They know Quiz and I were at Whittington Manor,” Hawkeye replied. “If Reynard’s got any savvy — and he obviously does — he’ll be waiting for us.”

“Never a dull moment,” said Tank.

“Titan Six doesn’t do dull,” Hawkeye said.

Ops Center

Aboard the Alamiranta

“I show over two hundred human occupants of the island,” said Touchdown from the Ops Center.

“My kind of odds,” said Hawkeye. “I’ll take the action.”

Catherine Caine allowed a brief smile to cross her face. “He may be a bit irreverent,” she said, “but his moxie is what I pay him for.”

Mont St. Michel

Off the Coast of France

“Open chutes!” Hawkeye ordered.

Three gray chutes deployed a mere five hundred feet above the coast, the glider wings falling away.

“A bullet just tore through my sleeve!” Tank said.

“Lookouts are posted on dozens of walls surrounding the monastery,” said Shooter.

“They’re firing on us,” DJ said. “Always good to have a welcoming committee.”

“You’re back in the saddle again, DJ,” said Hawkeye. “How does it feel?”

“Like adrenaline with a little bourbon thrown in!”

“It’s S and R when we hit the beach,” said Hawkeye.         

S and R stood for Scatter and Rumble, indicating that the Titan team would not gather together upon landing. They would fan out and return enemy fire immediately.

“Boots on the ground,” Shooter declared.

“Ditto,” said DJ, scrambling for the nearest outcropping of rocks.

“Shit!” cried Tank, his right leg wedged inside a deep crevice formed by several formations of basalt.

Hawkeye landed and dropped to his belly on a mixture of rocks, gravel, and sand.

“Got my leg free, but I think I sprained my ankle,” said Tank.

Chunks of rock exploded from an outcropping that concealed Shooter. “I’m drawing fire!” 

She aimed her assault rifle upwards at a forty-five degree angle. Squeezing the trigger, she took down a robed figure, who toppled from the top rampart of the monastery, screaming. His body hit successive layers of rock, falling limply, like a Raggedy Ann doll.

The rest of Titan Six was also drawing fire from Reynard’s acolytes. On the south shore of Mont St. Michel, pieces of rock splintered in a dozen spots as Reynard’s forces sent a barrage of bullets down to the coast.

Each Titan member was separated by a distance of approximately twenty yards.

Commandoes appeared directly in front of Hawkeye and his three team members. They were wearing dark camouflage suits and helmets. Their weaponry was advanced.

“Looks like the Council of Nine has its own Special Ops force,” Hawkeye observed. “How quaint.”

Ops Center

Aboard the Alamiranta

“Activating night vision nanobots,” announced Touchdown. “All helmet cams operational. I can see the beach, but in a moment, you’ll have much better vision than I do.”

Catherine Caine looked at the holographic image of Mont St. Michel in the middle of the Ops Center. It resembled a stone triangle rising from the sea. The cliffs rose to an apex upon which was built an imposing complex of monastery and cathedral. At beach level were several two- and three-story buildings constructed later in the island’s history. All were dwarfed by the towering edifice above them. Smaller buildings were wedged in the cliffs below the church.

“What’s the position of the landing craft carrying Donovan, Quiz, and Angela?” asked a tense Catherine Caine.

“One kilometer off the south beach, ma’am,” Touchdown said. “Awaiting orders from you or Hawkeye.”

“Can you find the best access into the monastery for Titan Six?” Caine asked.

“There are several caves in the cliffs,” Touchdown said. “My guess is that they’re connected to secret passageways that lead into the main complex above. I’m betting that one or more were shortcuts to the coast.”

“Hey!” cried Tank. “Did anybody take note that my ankle is sprained?  How the hell can I climb these damn rocks?”

“I’ve already activated your BioMEMS,” answered Touchdown. “The pain and swelling should be reduced in another minute or two.”

Touchdown looked over his shoulder at his boss.

“They have such little faith,” he said matter–of-factly.

“Faith seems to be the theme of this mission, doesn’t it,” said Caine.

“I guess it is,” Touchdown said thoughtfully. “I guess it is.”

Southern Coastline

Mont St. Michel

“We’re outnumbered and outflanked!” warned Tank. “They’ve got us from above and on the sides.”

“Yeah,” said Hawkeye, “but have you ever had such kick-ass vision at night?  This is fantastic. My compliments to Dr. Nguyen. I can see every crag and outline of the entire mountain, every stone of the abbey walls. Even enemy rifles protruding from dozens of hiding places. Prepare to execute a D and D,” said Hawkeye. “It’s Down and Dirty, ladies and gentleman.”

Shooter rested her Barrett REC7 assault rifle in a niche of volcanic stone at the edge of the coast. The opening in the stone was wide enough so that she could quickly pivot the gun barrel left and right. She would take aim at the targets along the many-tiered walls built into the cliffs and atop the abbey itself.

Before the appearance of the commandos, Titan Six had assumed kneeling positions in their respective locations in order to take out the hostiles.

“D and D now,” Hawkeye said coolly into his COM set.

Everyone in Titan Six dropped to the ground except for DJ, who stood, wielding a Calico M960 submachine gun. The sleek and cylindrical helical-feed carbine could discharge 750 rounds per minute.

DJ sprayed the beach, cutting down the Council’s troops in less than ten seconds. Their bodies contorted and twisted as if they were controlled by a puppeteer who had gotten his strings tangled.

Meanwhile, Shooter began squeezing off one shot after another, 6.8 mm Remington cartridges leaving the Barrett at a speed few other snipers in the world could manage — if any. Her arms levered the gun left and right, up and down with such a fluid motion that she fired fifteen rounds in less than thirty seconds. With her enhanced night vision, hers shots were deadly accurate.

Screams of pain and death echoed from the cliffs above. Four gray-robed figures, plus two commandoes, tumbled over the fortifications and fell against the jagged, unforgiving rocks. Their bodies came to rest in awkward positions atop the ragged, uneven terrain.

“Tell the amphibious landing craft to get the hell on shore,” Hawkeye told Caine over his COM. “We have a short window before reinforcements start the shooting gallery again.”  He looked at his team. “Tank and DJ, take cover and wait for the craft, then escort them up the mountain. Shooter and I will advance to clear out any of God’s holy soldiers up ahead.”

Shooter frowned at the reference. “Give it a rest, Hawkeye.”

Hawkeye ignored the criticism. “Do your thing, Touchdown. Shooter and I are moving in.”

Ops Center

Aboard the Alamiranta

“Plotting access now,” said Touchdown in his best military voice, cool and professional. “Ascend twenty meters at a bearing of thirty degrees. You’ll find a cave opening that will lead you into the side of the cliff. The cave leads to stone stairs carved directly into the mountain. Lots of twists and turns, so be careful.”

“Find the cave and wait for the rest of your group,” said Caine. “I don’t want you splitting up.”

“Any commandos or gun-toting acolytes in this cave?” asked Hawkeye.

“No. At least, not yet. I think we can count on that to change.”  

St Cyprian Abbey, 1410

Gateshead, England

His indiscretion having been discovered by a novice, Father Albertus had been banished from Baybridge Abbey. Thereafter, he had forsaken the Benedictine rule and become both itinerant preacher and mendicant, begging for food and lodging. But winters were cold and wet, and he stumbled into the monastery of St. Cyprian on a dark blue November evening. The monks at the abbey devoted themselves almost exclusively to copying manuscripts in their scriptorium.

Albertus’ life was simple. He rose to recite office at four in the morning each day and then begin work on copying Bibles and religious treatises. It was in the scriptorium that someone handed Albertus several weathered parchments and told him to make a clean, illuminated copy of the Codex Angelorum, the Book of Angels.

His eyes widened as he sat on his wooden stool before a high, narrow wooden desk with the top angled toward the copier and his quill pen.

He thought he might have found a way to atone for his grievous sins.

South Shoreline

Mont St. Michel

Tank and DJ waded into the rough surf as the landing craft’s forward ramp unhinged and folded forward towards the beach, allowing Quiz, Angela, and Archbishop Donovan to disembark. Each wore the same basic outfit Quiz had donned for his mission to Whittington Manor — camouflage uniforms, Kevlar vests, Glocks, and slim COM sets. The exception was Archbishop Donovan, who had an M16 slung over his shoulder.

Angela lost her balance and toppled into the foaming water. DJ stared at her romantic rival, making no move to lift the young woman from the surf.

“Careful,” Tank said with a grin, extending his hand. “The island is situated at the mouth of the Couesnon River. It flows right into the island and branches sideways. Makes for a swift current.”

Tank helped Angela to her feet, and Titan Six and the new arrivals walked onto the pebble-and-sand shore.

Touchdown had sent the coordinates of Hawkeye’s destination to Tank and DJ. Together, the Titan Global team ascended the sloping, rocky cliff of granite and limestone.

“I have Hawkeye in sight,” Tank said into his COM.

“Then haul ass!” said Touchdown. “I see a target on the shore below. Its heat signature is way off the scale.”

Tank and his followers stood ten yards below Hawkeye and Shooter. With enhanced night vision, he could see with complete clarity the outlines of his brother and Shooter against the opening of the cave.

The south side of the mountain shook as a deafening blast filled the air. Boulders and rocky debris from higher up on the cliff created an earthen rainfall in front of the cave mouth.

“Move it, everyone!” Hawkeye yelled.

Angela tried to ascend the final few feet, but slipped.

“Move your ass, honey!” said an impatient DJ. “Unless you want to be buried on the side Mont St. Michel, that is.”

Hawkeye scrambled down and took hold of Angela’s hand. From Behind, Archbishop Donovan cupped his hands so that the grad student had firm footing for her right boot.

Rock and dust were falling faster.

Tank, DJ, and Donovan brought up the rear as Quiz and Angela were lifted into the cave by Hawkeye and Shooter.

“Follow me,” Hawkeye said when all members of the enhanced Titan Six team were inside the cave. “Head lamps and flashlights go on now. Not everyone has night vision nanobots.”

The team ascended the stone stairs inside the mountain.

“Ops, what just happened?” asked Hawkeye.

Ops Center

Aboard the Alamiranta

“You narrowly escaped an AT-4 shoulder-mounted rocket,” Touchdown explained. “Fired from the beach. The farther into the mountain you get, the more useless further rocket attacks from the outside will be.”

“Right,” said Hawkeye. “And the more likely that we’ll meet Reynard’s acolytes and commandos.”

“I think that’s a reasonable assumption,” stated Touchdown. “For now, I show Reynard’s men in the monastery above and the catacombs below. A few are scattered on the ramparts outside, apparently anticipating more Titan forces.”

“Good,” said Hawkeye. “Their ignorance is our bliss. We’re moving deeper and higher into the mountain.”

Fifteen minutes later, Hawkeye paused in the winding stone stairway, which was only five feet wide. He raised his right arm, signaling his team to halt.

“What the hell is that?” asked Tank.

From above, a wave of high-pitched sound washed down into the stairway. The eerie sound dropped a full octave and then rose again.

“It could be the wind,” suggested DJ. “The cliff is full of chambers opening to the outside. There’s a stiff breeze coming off of the sea.”

* It’s not the wind. But warn your comrades. You’re quite outnumbered. *

“Wind?” said Quiz. “I don’t think so. But we should approach its source carefully.”

Hawkeye frowned and glanced backwards at the young man.

“Intuition,” said Quiz.

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Hawkeye. “We’re moving up. Maintain complete silence until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Choir Loft

Cathedral of Mont St. Michel

Titan Six moved higher and entered a corridor with smooth, whitewashed stone walls. The sounds were louder now.

“Chanting,” said Donovan.

Hawkeye motioned for the team to follow him through an arched doorway a few yards to his right.

The team was in the choir loft of the Romanesque cathedral. The loft was a wide, deep space with carved wooden panels and a wooden railing that admitted a view to the cavernous church. The smell of incense hung in the air as the acolytes below sang hymns in Latin.

Hawkeye crawled to the edge of the loft and, kneeling, peered over the railing.

“Incredible,” he whispered.

In the pews of the nave below were at least a hundred monks in gray robes. The cathedral was illuminated by thousands of candles, from the vestibule at the rear of the church all the way through the nave, across the transept, and extending into the sanctuary. The painting on the semicircular dome high above the altar portrayed a larger-than-life St. Michael the Archangel, sword in hand and wings outspread. He was surrounded by an army of the heavenly host.

The chanting, as before, rose and fell in unusual tonalities. Hawkeye had heard Gregorian chants before, and while this was close to its medieval cadences, it had an almost New Age quality to its odd chord structures. He looked behind him, but Angela shrugged and the Archbishop shook his head. Neither seemed to be familiar with the chanting.

A black-robed figure walked boldly down the center aisle of the nave.

Hawkeye removed the AR-615 given to him by Dr. Nguyen. He would act quickly while the figure below had his back to the loft. It was Father Reynard, the Fox.

It was an easy, silent shot. Invisible magnetic tracking residue was now on the back of Reynard’s robe.

The priest climbed to the top step of the sanctuary and stood before the altar. Raising his hands, he signaled to his choir that they should raise the volume of their otherworldly hymn. The crescendo of sound rose to the vaulted ceiling of the cathedral, filling every niche of the church in its journey heavenward.

Without warning, Reynard looked up, as if sensing the presence of intruders. Stretching forth his right hand, he pointed an ominous finger towards the loft at the rear of the church. Five acolytes left their pews and ran hurriedly down the main aisle.

“He not only knows we’re here,” Hawkeye said into his COM set, “but he now knows our exact position. It’s show time, my friends.”

Titan Six got to its feet and retreated back into the corridor.