The Belial Library (The Belial Series) (6 page)

“So where is she?” Warren stared at the scar that ran from the edge of Hugo’s eyebrow to the edge of his mouth. 

Most men, he’d beat to a pulp for even glancing at it too long.  With this brat, he had to bite his tongue.  “We haven't found her yet.”

Hugo turned away from him.  The kid was a joke.  He didn't know which end of a gun to shoot from.  He’d been ordered to bring him along, to show him the ropes.  The rest of his men had all been tested in battle.  Junior here had the cockiness of someone who’d never been in a fight, but always thought he would win.

He’d even failed to complete his one job: get the two American archaeologists away from here.  Hugo growled.  He didn’t need Americans caught in the crossfire.  That would bring way too much attention.

He turned as Warren kicked the person nearest to him, a twenty-something woman holding her child.  The woman cried out.  The villagers leaned forward, their faces mutinous.  A One of Hugo’s men stepped forward, warning them back.

Warren was oblivious to the reaction.  “Let’s just ask one of these ones where she went.  I’m sure I could persuade them to answer.”

Hugo latched onto Warren’s arm, squeezing hard. 

Warren’s face paled. 

Hugo spoke quietly, but with authority.  “I don’t care who your granddaddy is.  This is my op.  You will observe, but you will not touch a single person unless I tell you to.”  He reached down and flipped the safety on Warren's M16.  “And keep the damn safety on before you blow your foot off.”  He flung him away. 

Warren's cheeks glowed red.  He opened his mouth to speak. 

Hugo stared him down. 

Common sense prevailed.  Warren shut his mouth and took a deep breath.  “Yes, sir.  What can I do?”

“Now you’re getting it.”  He nodded to the tent where his lieutenant had disappeared with the girl.  “Check on Sanford.  It’s too quiet in there.”

Warren nodded and headed off.  Hugo shook his head, watching him go.  His grandfather was a man to be reckoned with.  But the apple had obviously fallen very far from the tree.  If Warren were his progeny, Hugo would have shot him when he was a child and saved himself the embarrassment. 

Turning his back on Warren, he looked over the crowd of villagers.  They all looked at the ground.  He pointed at them.  “Eenie, meenie, minee, mo, who will tell me what they know?”

“Hugo!”

He growled at the interruption.  For God's sake, the kid was worse than a two-year old.  He looked over his shoulder.  Warren ran towards him, his face blotchy from the exertion.  “What is it?”

“It’s Sanford,” Warren panted out.  “He’s dead.”

Hugo went still, his fist clenched.  “What did you say?”

“Sanford.  There’s a knife sticking out of his chest." 

Hugo's eyes narrowed to slits as he looked back at the villagers.  Sanford had been his lieutenant for over five years.  He wasn’t easy to take down.  He reached down and yanked up a girl around the age of six.  He held a gun to her head while he stared at the group.  “Where would they have taken her?”

“No, don’t hurt her,” her mother pleaded.

“This is the last time I’ll ask.  Where would they have taken her?”  He pressed the gun harder into the little girl’s temple and she cried out.  “3, 2 –”

“The church.”  A man called out.  “They would have taken her to the church.”

Hugo pushed the girl back towards her mother.  She collapsed in her mother’s arms sobbing.  Hugo watched them for a moment.  Pitiful.  He raised his gun and shot the man who had spoken.  He turned and walked away.

Warren had to run to keep up with him.  “Why’d you shoot him?  He told you what you wanted.”

“But I had to ask twice.”  He glanced over at Warren.  “Take a group to the church while I finish here.  If you find the target, hold her.  I’ll question her when I get there.”

Warren ran off towards the trucks with a nod, practically skipping in his excitement.  He’d lost Sanford and now he was saddled with this man-child.  Hugo beckoned his second lieutenant over.  He came on a run, halting in front of him.  “Yes, sir.”

Hugo smiled.  Now this was how a soldier should respond.  “It’s time to clean up the village.”

His second looked at him, unblinking.  “Yes, sir.  What type of cleanup will this be?”

“Complete.  No witnesses.”

CHAPTER 8

Baltimore, Maryland

Henry Chandler, CEO of the Chandler Group, flipped through the reports on his desk.  The project in Milan was on schedule and should be wrapped up shortly.  Their consultation with the scientists at the Hadron collider had gone well and it looked as if a new contract would be signed soon.  Pushing the files to the right side of his desk, he pulled over a white file with a single word on it: Montana. 

Leaning back in his chair, the file in his lap, he carefully flipped his purple-striped tie over his shoulder.  He had a meeting with a potential client this afternoon, hence the more formal look of black slacks and crisp white shirt.  He preferred jeans and a t-shirt, but he knew as the head of the Chandler Group, he needed to present a certain image.

He flipped past the opening summary and stopped on page two, assessing the latest progress on the dig.  Father Patrick seemed to have the project well in hand.  He'd put out a press release with some initial findings and gotten the expected pushback.  He smiled thinking of his conversation with Patrick this morning.  The priest was definitely enjoying being in the thick of things. 

He scanned the rest of the report.  Nothing about the superhumans.  There’d been precious little information about them on any of the monoliths in Montana.  They knew they were fallen angels, that they’d ushered in a world of violence and strife.  But they had learned nothing more about them from the ancient site.

And nothing more about you, either
, a thought whispered from the back of his mind.  The thoughts had been harder to shut out since Montana.  He’d known what he could do since he was a teenager.   But he never knew why.  Was he one of them? 

His parents had known.   ‘
Don’t let anyone know what he is
.’  Had that been fear in his father’s voice?  He curled his fist, though he was careful not to slam it on his desk.  He knew if he did, the desk would be damaged, if not destroyed. 

Careful, always having to be so damn careful, so no one knew what he could do.  Why had his parents never told him?  Why leave him full of questions? 

His Dad was gone, so there were no answers to be had from him.  But his Mom . . .  He sighed.  Getting answers from her was even more complicated than getting answers from his father.

He glanced up as the door opened.  A broad-shouldered man in his mid-thirties with a shock of dark brown hair walked in.

Henry shook off his thoughts, tucking them away yet again.  He smiled and walked around the desk.  “Jake.  I thought you weren’t getting in until tonight.”

Jake shook Henry’s hand and grinned up at him.  Although Jake was six-foot-four, Henry towered over him.  Standing at seven-foot-two, he towered over most people. 

"Wrapped things up early,” Jake replied, heading for Henry’s bar.  He picked up the decanter of Scotch and tilted it towards Henry.

“No, I’m good, but help yourself.”  Henry sat in one of leather chairs in front of his desk, surreptitiously watching Jake.  Jake had never been a drinker.  An occasional beer, sure, but never Scotch.  And he looked like he’d lost weight.   His jeans were baggier and his navy t-shirt hung a little looser. 

“You okay?”

Jake took a seat across from him, his glass on the coffee table in between.  “Yeah.  Good.  Israel wrapped up pretty easily."

Henry nodded, but didn't say anything, taking stock of his head of security.  Work was fine.  His health was fine.  Which only left one thing that wasn’t fine.

“Have you talked to her?”  Henry asked, deciding to forego small talk.

Jake swirled the amber liquid in his glass with a sigh.  “No.  Not for about two months.”

Henry sighed.  He’d really been hoping these two could patch things up.  If any two people deserved a little happiness, it was Laney and Jake.  “Just give her some time.  It’s hard to downgrade from putting your lives in each other’s hands to asking if she’s got plans for Friday night.  You both went through a lot.”

Laney had been the target of a supernatural stalker.  She’d borne up well and she and Jake had forged a bond through the ordeal.  But reality had been tough for both of them, especially Laney.  She’d lost one of her best friends to that insanity.

“Have you talked to her? How’s she doing?” Jake asked, his face expressionless. 

Henry read the shift in Jake’s attention, though, the tautness of his shoulders.  “She’s good.  She took a leave of absence from the University of Syracuse and started researching everything she could find on ancient civilizations.”

Jake chuckled.  “She started that from the hospital bed.  Can’t tell you how many books I lugged back from the library and bookstore for her while she was recuperating.  What’s she doing, going for another Ph.D.?”

“Actually, she is.  With her master’s classes, her doctoral work in criminology, and her work with her uncle, she was only a few credits shy.  She finished them up and now she’s working on the research for her dissertation.”

Jake took a long drink.  “Well, good for her.  Where’s she doing the research?  Out with her uncle in Montana?”

“Umm, no.  Actually, she’s working with an old friend of hers, Jennifer Witt.”

Jake raised his eyebrows.  “Jen?  Jordan and Mike’s sister?”

“Yes.”

Jake had been surprised when he learned that one of Laney’s friends was the sister of two of his friends.  He and Laney had been only one degree of separation away for years.  “So, where’s Jen doing her research?”

“Ecuador.”

Jake grinned.  “Jen always did like being off the beaten track.  What are they researching?”

“The lost library of Atlantis.”

The grin fell from Jake’s face.  “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Jake shook his head and looked out the window.  “Any sign of the superhumans?"

Jake's shoulders had tensed up again at the mention of Atlantis.  Henry knew the topic was a difficult one for him.  Jake was a soldier, not an academic.  He didn't have the innate curiosity to seek out the secrets of the past.  For him, security always came first.  And God knew, the last time someone had gone searching for an Atlantis artifact, it had been brutal.

"Happily, no.  For now, she seems to be spending the bulk of her time in a bank in Cuenca cataloguing artifacts."

"Good.  I hope it stays that way." 

"She's a pretty tough woman.  I'm sure she can handle anything that comes her way."

Jake finally met his eyes.  "I know.  I'd just prefer if she didn't have to." 

CHAPTER 9

Ten Miles from Cuenca, Ecuador

Light from the church glowed in the distance.  All the lights appeared to be on and a murmur of noise crept through the air.  But no gunfire.  No overt indications of the mercenaries could be heard. 

Laney came to a stop two hundred yards away, in a small copse of trees hidden from the path.    Elena lay asleep in her arms.

Jen turned to her and whispered.  “You two wait here.  I’ll go check it out.”

Laney nodded wearily, her arms aching as Jen disappeared silently through the trees.  Laney envied her ability.  She still felt like an elephant crashing through the underbrush.  Jen moved without sound. 

Usually it took about an hour to travel from the village to the church.  Their trip had taken over two.  It wasn’t just the dark that had slowed them down.  A couple of times, they had stopped and hidden, convinced one of the mercenaries was near. 

Laney's nerves were at the breaking point, as were her arms and back.  She and Jen had traded off carrying Elena, even though Jen had tried to persuade Laney to let her carry her the whole time.  But tough as Jen was, even she couldn't carry Elena for that distance.  Especially after Elena had fallen asleep, becoming dead weight.

Laney lowered herself to the ground, her back against a polylepis tree.  Its scales rustled as she settled in. 

She darted a glance at Elena, who lay nestled quietly in her lap.  The noise didn’t seem to have woken her.  Elena had only fallen asleep an hour ago.  Before that, she’d bounced between trembling and quietly sobbing. 

Hugging Elena to her, Laney wished she could wipe this incident from her memory.  No child should have to remember a night like this.

“Are we safe?”  Elena’s big eyes stared up at her, although Laney could tell she was fighting sleep. 

Laney smiled softly.  “I thought you were sleeping, little one.”

“No.  I just shut my eyes. I imagined I was with Nana in the garden.”

Laney ran a hand over Elena’s hair.  “That’s a nice place to be.”

“It is.  Are we safe?”

“I think so.  We’re at the church.  Jen went ahead to be sure.”