Rise of the Nephilim (10 page)

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Authors: Adam Rushing

BOOK: Rise of the Nephilim
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Chapter Seventeen

 

 

The smoky glass window panes of the
Centre International de Conférences Genève
dully reflected the morning sun back onto the bustling sidewalk. The building’s small hanging gardens lined the square façade at street level. Its sunken foundation hid the fact that the complex was actually four stories tall instead of the two it appeared to be. Delegates from a multitude of religions were filing into the triangular grand entrance that jutted out from the northern corner, ignoring the chanting of the protestors blocked off from the main thoroughfare by armed guards and concrete barriers. Inside, the attendees were being guided through the usual conference fanfare of finding a table for registration and receiving a list of the day’s itinerary with seating arrangements.

The lobby was an expansive area on the ground floor big enough to accommodate the milling crowd. The burnt orange low-pile carpet, and wood walls were a testament to the Center’s nineteen seventies-era construction. Even the auditorium was a washed out palette of red-orange paneling and seats, highlighting the beige walls and gray tables gathered around the dais at the bottom center of the room. Close to one of the four major offices of the United Nations, the Center was one of the largest exhibition centers in Europe designed for the purpose of lectures and meetings. It accommodated over two thousand people and supported twenty simultaneous translation booths, so that every attendee could understand what was being said.

The exhibition floor flowed with a rainbow of varying ethnic garb. The colorful silk kurtas of Hindu sadhus and black cassocks of the Eastern Orthodox Church intermingled with the orange robes of Buddhist monks and the embroidered prayer caps of Muslim imams. The kick-off session would begin promptly at nine hundred local time with an invocation performed by the Pope himself, who was scheduled to outline the objectives of the week. The ultimate goal was to familiarize the attendees with their fellows, detail the similarities between the religions, and figure out ways to minimize inter-faith animosity and strengthen cooperation among believers.

This collection of religious figureheads did not mean that the summit would be an esoteric collaboration of powerful, influential men and women intended to be closed to the public. In fact, the entirety of the week’s activities was scheduled to be aired by major broadcasters including CSPAN, the BBC, and Al-Jazeera.

During the break between the first and second sessions, Jude stood in the atrium and watched the throng funnel through the doors. He checked his watch. It was almost time to begin again, and Gallo was still nowhere to be found. He couldn’t imagine his friend would have shirked his duties and stayed at the bar too late last night. He shook his head and kept walking. He didn’t have time to go searching. Archbishop Miller was already paging him. The cardinal had proven to be pompous and fussy, much to Jude’s chagrin. He imagined it was a rare day when this man did not get his way, and he had been incredibly vocal in expressing so since his arrival in Geneva.

Jude meandered around the atrium to the back hall of the auditorium and ascended two flights of stairs. He met Eric in the third story hallway just outside of meeting room 13. The private security officer whistled in relief at the sight of him.

“Hello, Mister Strauss”, greeted Jude. “How is the good archbishop today?”

“As delightful as ever,” answered former soldier sarcastically. “You can call me Eric.”

He tossed his head toward the door behind his shoulder and chuckled. “I’m sure my comrade will let you call him whatever you want, if you will just take Archbishop Miller off our hands for a bit. That man has a serious bug up his ass. I think I’d rather be facing bullets than babysitting him.”

Jude sighed, “What’s the issue now?”

“It seems the immediate area around his seat has a little… more Middle Eastern than he cares for.”

Jude sighed even louder, “For Christ’s sake…. Let me talk to him.”

Eric escorted him to the door, where the two men could hear the priest yelling inside. They opened it to see the older man pacing the floor of the small meeting room and venting his displeasure to a shaking aide and painfully stoic Bradley Chambers.

“… not like I can ever forgive what they did to Manhattan, and now I have to basically sit down and hold hands with those terrorists? I won’t stand for it! If we all have to be here, then they should all be sitting in the back with their own kind!”

Jude cleared his throat for attention.

“I understand you have a problem with the seating arrangements, Archbishop?”

“You bet I do,” the Cardinal answered angrily, as he redirected his gaze. “There is no reason I should be sitting near pagans and heretics, much less seeing His Holiness subjected to such an affront by placing him in a similar situation.”

Jude crossed his arms over his chest and assumed a defiant stance. “The point is to alternate seating to break down barriers and promote inter-faith dialogue. If you would only try, I think you might just find some common ground. If you want to take it up with the Pope, though, be my guest. The last time I saw him, he was having a cup of breakfast tea with the Dali Lama. Your interests would best be served by following his example,
Cardinal
.”

Archbishop Miller glared at him defiantly and opened his mouth for a retort, but he snapped it shut swiftly. He seemed to be calculating the political advantages of following Jude’s advice. “Fine,” he replied. “I’ll do that. I’ll also be the first to hold you accountable when this charade falls apart.”

“Please do,” challenged Jude, knowing he had won this round with the embittered ecclesiast. “The next session should be starting in a few minutes, so I suggest you hurry.”

Archbishop Miller retreated into the hallway, barking orders at his assistants to follow. They flocked behind him and disappeared down the stairs toward the first floor. Brad let out a sigh of relief and whistled, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Wow. We really hit the jackpot with that guy. I thought this would be a cakewalk, but at this rate it’s all I can do not to shoot him myself. Thanks for helping us out.”

“No problem,” assured Jude. “It’s people like that who really need to be here, anyway. If you two would like, I can take you down to the security office while you wait. We won’t have a big break until lunch. There should still be some breakfast down there, too.”

Both men nodded and queued behind him. He led them downward toward the operations center in the basement of the complex. The security office was situated below the main auditorium and monitored the numerous levels and hallways through a system of dozens of closed circuit cameras. Given the high profile nature of the meetings and attendees that frequented Geneva, safety and a quick response time to perceived threats were precious commodities among the many venues dotting its streets.

Ten faces glanced up at them, as the three men walked through the door of the facility. They gazed at the two strangers quizzically, but upon recognizing Jude they returned to their tasks of poring over security monitors and computer screens. Jude spied Emily in the corner perusing a small stack of papers and led them to her. She was so lost in her work that he had to clear his throat to gain her attention. She jumped up with a squeal of delight and planted a long welcome kiss on Jude’s mouth, unashamed of the public display of affection. He could feel the heat of the other men’s jealousy behind him, but he knew they had no idea what this woman had thrust them into.

“Welcome back, lover,” she said in a sultry voice, as if it had been days since she saw him last, not a couple of hours. “I have nothing to report here. Everything is going smoothly!”

Jude managed a slight smile and replied, “Let’s hope it stays that way. You remember Eric and Brad, Archbishop Miller’s bodyguards from the hotel? I figured they could relax down here for a while and take a break from
His Eminence
.”

Emily nodded, “Hello again, gentlemen. Please, make yourselves at home. We’ve turned the infirmary next door into a break room with some snacks and a television. We will keep an eye on him from here and make sure only his ego suffers.”

“Thank you both for the hospitality,” offered Eric. “The archbishop needs to discover he isn’t the center of the world at some point. It’ll be nice to relax for a little while.”

“Please, let us know if you need anything,” Jude called after the two, as they disappeared into the break room.

Turning to Emily, he asked, “You haven’t seen Antonio, have you? I waited for him in the hallway, but he hasn’t shown up yet.”

“He came in through one of the side entrances a while ago,” answered Emily. “He was with some fellow clergymen near the cafeteria, if you want to meet up with him.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m sure we will see him soon enough. I’m just glad he isn’t passed out in the city somewhere. Do you need any help?”

She smiled, “Not at the moment, no. Why don’t you get some rest too? It’s going to be a long week.”

Jude nodded and yawned, “It’s hard to believe I was sleeping in the jungle just a few months ago. Now, I’m babysitting fussy clerics, and they are wearing me out more than the wilds ever did! Wake me if you need me.”

He lay down on a utilitarian couch in the corner of the room, while Emily fetched a blanket for him. He closed his eyes and let himself drift into slumber, guided by the rhythmic tapping of keyboards and the drone of the server cooling fans.

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

He stood on the wooden deck outside of his childhood home, stargazing as he had done so often during his teenage years. He could feel the frustration rising in him, as he tried to pinpoint Saturn in his telescope. The light pollution that had been such a source of ire before was once again foiling his endeavors. He was unable to see the ringed planet more clearly than the fuzzy yellow-orange smear that filled his eyepiece.

He was on the verge of giving up for the night when the sky flashed a brilliant bluish-white. He recoiled in surprise and held his hands to his face, as he waited for the spots to dissipate. When his vision cleared again, he uncovered his eye. The world was still in total darkness, as if every bulb had burned out in an instant. The Milky Way gleamed overhead, a glittering field of fire burning with an intensity he would only later experience in the farthest reaches of civilization.

Odd, reddish-green distortions rent the firmament and twisted the starlight around them. The anomalies quickly evolved from small shimmers to black scars eating away at the celestial plane. He perceived shapes emerging from the ebony centers of the tears. In horror, he realized that thousands of ethereal ships were bursting forth from whatever higher dimensions of space-time they had wrapped themselves in to make the long journey to Earth.

Silently, the vaguely cigar-shaped vessels descended toward the planet.
Nephilim...
The invasion had begun. He could hear the screams of his neighbors in the distance, as they experience the same terror. The armada fired a simultaneous volley of green plasma orbs that sped downward toward the crippled terrestrial infrastructure. He saw the flash of the explosion as they found their mark and braced himself for the giant wall of flames that raced to consume him…..

He fell off the couch and hit the floor forcefully enough to knock his breath out and send jarring pain up and down his spine. His sudden return to consciousness and cry of surprise was lost in the mass confusion that now pervaded the control room. Alarms were ringing and people were shouting at each other and into various communication devices.

“…lost visual in the mezzanine… static everywhere…need a body count….”

Emily ran up to help him to his feet.

“Thank goodness you’re okay. C’mon, we have to get these people out of here!”

“What the hell happened?” Jude demanded.

She rummaged through one of the crates positioned against the wall and pulled out a couple of bullet-proof vests. She tossed one in Jude’s direction and quickly slipped on hers. “A bomb went off in the auditorium and electronics are failing all over the building. The Nephilim must be here!”

Jude stared in shock at the scrambled security monitors, as he tried to process the situation. He almost didn’t notice Eric and Brad sidle up to report to Emily, assault rifles in hand and a steeled look in their eyes.

“Hello boys,” greeted Emily. “Fancy having a go at some terrorists?”

“Gladly,” Brad answered enthusiastically.

Eric chimed in, “Our primary objective is to locate and evacuate the Archbishop, though. Any deviation from our mission won’t involve us.”

“Are you kidding?” Jude yelled in outrage. “People are dead or dying up there. Are you really just going to leave them behind once you get him out?”

“I understand the situation, Mister Sullivan,” Eric replied coldly, “but those are our orders. We’ll come back when he is safe, I promise.”

Emily reprimanded Jude, “We don’t have time to argue, love. We need to get up there and help those people. Nephilim are roaming the facility as we speak.”

“Nephilim?” Eric asked as if trying to place a face to a name. “I haven’t heard of that organization. What’s their agenda?”

“Complete domination,” stated Emily simply. “These men are extremely dangerous, and I mean
extremely
. They may have some normal mercenaries in the crowd, but if you see anyone doing anything you might call ‘supernatural’ or ‘superhuman’, don’t be a hero. If you don’t have a good shot, then don’t do something to draw attention to yourself. Now, please follow me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Brad questioned aloud. “Why are you even in charge?”

“No time to explain,” Emily shouted over her shoulder, as she picked up a pistol from a side table and put a round in the chamber, “and no time to argue. Eric and Brad take the rear. Let’s move out!”

She passed another pistol to Jude on her way to the exit of the evacuated security room. He lifted the weapon up to get a feel for its weight. He hadn’t shot a gun since he was a teenager aiming at targets and cans in the woods, but he had been a pretty decent shot back then. He hoped regaining those skills was similar to riding a bike, except forgetting how to shoot on target would likely get him killed right now.

“We need to evacuate any VIPs first,” he urged Emily, “I hope we can find Antonio on the way.” He crept close behind her while Eric and Brad protected the flank with their rifles.

The group shuffled through the basement hallway, staying alert for the sound of nearby danger. From the stairway a few dozen yards ahead of them, they could hear the screams of the wounded and the stomping of feet desperate to escape. Worse still, they could hear the distinctive pop of gunfire from the enemy above.

“My God,” said Jude, stunned. “What do you think is going on outside? Do you think the police will even be able to help?”

“Doubtful,” observed Emily. “We had guards at almost every doorway. If things are going this badly, I’m afraid they didn’t have much time to react. We should help as many people as we can.”

They crept up the stairway, covering each direction cautiously. As they reached the top, they surveyed the situation. People were still fleeing the auditorium in a panic. In front of the doorway to their immediate right stood a man armed with a rifle taking pot shots at the fleeing mob and laughing. Another man dressed as a rabbi stood beside him nodding his approval. Jude was shocked to recognize him as one of the people from the conference. A dozen dead and wounded already lay at their feet.

The two didn’t notice the group. They were just out of the assailants’ line of sight. Eric and Brad signaled to each other and maneuvered into position, taking down both men quickly.

“Shit!” cursed Eric, as they assisted the victims nearby. “I bet these guys are covering all the main entrances. We need to split up, if we are going to help anyone. You two go upstairs. Archbishop Miller was sitting on this floor, so we’ll do our sweep down here. I promise we’ll come back once he’s safe.”

“Be careful,” admonished Jude, as the two soldiers veered away and stalked down the corridor leading around the back of the auditorium.

As they drifted out of sight, Emily tugged his arm and led him to the next flight of stairs. They clung to the railing as they ascended to avoid the fleeing patrons. Halfway up, one of them crashed into Jude’s shoulder and began to stumble, before Jude reached out to steady him. The man’s black robes, cross necklace, and cylindrical hat indicated he was from the Eastern Orthodox Church. He stared into Jude’s eyes with a feverish look.

“Don’t go up there! Demons!” He pleaded in a thick Russian accent. He pulled away from the couple and continued his flight to the nearest exit.

“He’s right,” Emily confirmed. “They’ve made the first move. Let’s go.”

They ran up the stairs past more blood-stained bodies, directing the lesser wounded victims toward the safest escape routes. Here, the throng had overwhelmed and trampled their attackers, but it sounded as if more possessed were further down. They continued to follow the most desperate screams into the mezzanine and arrived in time to see another priest toss someone over the railing to the atrium below with a simple wave of his hand. The man roared like a lion and spoke in the incomprehensible tongue of the Grigori, as he picked up another plaything from the panicked crowd.

Jude drew his weapon and took a quick shot at the attacker. The bullet embedded itself into the man’s leg, which caused him to stumble and lose his grip on his prey. He turned his attention on the two with a terrible cry. Jude felt the vise grip of an invisible hand clench around his chest. He dropped his gun and struggled to breathe, but it only lasted a couple of seconds. A loud crack of thunder and a blinding light ended the assault.

Emily stood with her finger pointed toward the now-prone man, residual static from the electrical attack raising strands of hair on her head. His body convulsed uncontrollably; smoke rose from a charred hole in his smoldering shirt. Emily ran up to him and cradled his head in a motherly fashion. Her hands radiated cleansing light, as she attempted to purge the incapacitated man of his parasitic oppressor. His face contorted into a silent scream and blood began to trickle from his eyes, as both souls fled from his body.

Jude fell to his knees and coughed violently, as he fumbled around in search of his gun. Emily stumbled back over and offered Jude a hand up. Before he could offer her his thanks, they heard another round of gunshots in the atrium and felt a boom followed by the tinkling of glass. Jude hoped this meant that the police had finally mounted a counter assault on the building.

There was no time to relax, however. They could still hear cries of anguish coming from inside the auditorium. Emily dove through the doorway to the auditorium and rolled to cover behind a table that had been overturned during the panic. Jude followed and peeked over the top to gain a view of the situation. The room was almost empty now. Smoking debris littered the area, creating a haze that partially obscured the opposite wall. The bomb had not been large, but it had destroyed a few of the bottom rows in front of the dais. The podium had been obliterated along with the poor clergyman giving a lecture at the time. The charred bodies of the dead and dying were strewn around the blast radius. More bodies created a grim pathway to the exit, where the panicked throng had either trampled each other, or they had been shot down as they ran.

Jude felt the shockwave of the bullet as it sped just past his right cheek. Reflex made him duck back down, as adrenaline surged through his chest. Emily slapped him on the back of the head.

“What the hell were you thinking?” She whispered angrily. “Tell me before you even think about doing anything like that!”

They heard laughter from the lower level, as the men occupying it continued to fire haphazardly in their direction.

“Hello, Mister Sullivan” called out one of the men in an Eastern European accent. “Why don’t you come out and talk to us. No one here has anything left to say.” A shot rang out from his rifle accompanied by the thump of a bullet sinking into flesh. The man was shooting the dead bodies around him in his bloodlust.

“Screw you, man!” Jude challenged. “This was a peaceful gathering. You had no right to do this!” Another shot found its mark in the wall above their heads.

“You know why we’re here. Our bosses were very unhappy to see everyone trying to see eye to eye, especially when they found out your little whore was involved. You should not try to resist it, you know. It’s better to obey than become a slave or die.”

Jude fired blindly from behind the table in anger. “I’d rather die a free man than have anything to do with the likes of you!”

Their antagonist replied smugly, “I was actually hoping you would say that.” Bullets riddled the wall above him, showering him with pieces of wood and plastic. Jude lay as close as he could to the floor, preparing for the bullet that would penetrate the table and kill him. He glanced up and saw Emily holding her hands out in front of her. Sweat ran down her face, as she concentrated. He couldn’t figure out what she was doing, until he saw the bullet pattern on the wall behind them. A circle of wall remained untouched, as if the bullets were being deflected away from them. The hail of gunfire assaulted them for about thirty seconds before it stopped. It was replaced by the sound of a wet gurgle and the thud of bodies falling to the floor.

A familiar voice called out, “Hey you two! Are you okay? It’s safe to come out now.”

Eric’s greeting was the most pleasant thing Jude had heard today. He and Emily stood up and waved back at him and Brad. The two mercenaries had snuck into one of the viewing rooms directly above the dais and set up a sniper’s nest. Their assailants had never seen them coming.

“My heroes!” Emily said weakly in dramatic admiration. “Keep watch over the auditorium, and we’ll make our way around.”

“Copy that,” responded Eric, as he and Brad assumed defensive positions. “The way should be clear. It seems the majority of the terrorists were going down to the atrium to engage the police assault team.”

Emily and Jude picked their way over the rubble to the nearest exit to the viewing area. They made a slow, tactical approach through the right-hand corridor toward the room their allies occupied. They could still hear the sound of gunfire on the floors below them, evidence of the confrontation between law enforcement and the aggressors. It seemed that the actual attack on the conference-goers had come to an end.

The pair approached the viewing room door cautiously to avoid being fired upon by mistake. Jude gave a few slow, soft raps on the closed door to announce their presence. Brad cracked the door open and looked out expectantly. He smiled and ushered them inside before replacing the barricade he had constructed to protect them.

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