The Templar Chronicles (27 page)

While the damage to his eye had cost him his ability to see in any normal sense of the word, he had gained something unexpected in return. When he moved his ruined eye just so, the supernatural world was revealed to him in all its so-called glory. Nothing could hide from his Sight; he could see through the guises of demons and angels alike, as well as anything in between. Mystical power was as obvious to him as a mountain in the middle of a desert plain. For short periods of time he could even see into the Beyond itself, without setting foot outside his own plane of reality, but doing so also revealed him to the denizens of that realm and so he didn’t do it all that often.

As a reanimated corpse that fed on the life-force of the living, the Eretiku’s very nature would make it impossible for it to hide from him. What he didn’t know was whether or not its killing gaze would have any effect when seen through his Sight and so he intended to be as careful as possible in the confrontation ahead.

Still, he didn’t hesitate to activate his Sight.

Much of the spiritual world is driven by emotion, with objects and locations taking on the predominant feelings surrounding them. In a prison, the primary emotion is despair. The corridor before him went from cold, hard steel to looking like a diseased artery that pulsed and glistened with unidentifiable growths and sores in the eyes of his Sight. The bodies of the dead were black with fear and pain and the ghosts of several of the guards stood beside them, the confusion about what had happened clear on their faces. They became aware of Cade in the same moment he became aware of them and with a quiet word he sent them on their way, hoping their next existence would end better than this one had. At the end of the corridor, the doors were inscribed with a number of mystical seals and signs, the power within them glowing with a white-hot heat.

Of the Eretiku, there was no sign.

“All right,” he said to the others, “we’re clear. Keep those mirrors handy and let’s move out.”

Weapons drawn, they advanced down the corridor, through the guard station, and into the main cell block.

They emerged on the second and middle tier of the block, roughly in the center of one of the short sides of the rectangle. On each level a narrow walkway extended in front of the cells, with enough room for two men to walk abreast comfortably. A waist high railing prevented anyone from slipping over the edge.

Olsen leaned against the railing and used his mirror to allow him a look at what was beneath them and then did the same with the level above. The other two tiers were arranged just like this one, as the plans had indicted, and the center space below them was simply left empty. He didn’t see any sign of their quarry and he let the others know it.

For Cade, the cell block was even worse than the corridor, for it was the place that the inmates spent the majority of their time. The Mother Church had long ago decided that it was unjust to simply execute those enemies that surrendered to its mercy, but knew at the same time that it couldn’t allow those same enemies any chance of escape back into the world where they could continue to wreak havoc and harm. Containment facilities like this one were the best answer the Church had come up with and it had put its most battle hardened veterans, the Templars, in charge of their operation and maintenance. Cell Block D was in the lower security area of the prison, but even here inmates were not allowed to interact with each other, lest they combine their abilities and discover a way of getting past the guards and the wards built into the building itself, and so their existence was reduced to solitary confinement inside of soundproof cells. They were given an hour of exercise per day, in separate, isolated exercise rooms and only on rare occasions did they get the chance to see the sun and open sky.

Some of the creatures confined in this space had life spans that were all but indistinguishable from immortality to the humans who operated it and decades spent in confinement with only hope for centuries more of the same made for a blanket of rage and despair so thick that Cade had to take a moment to get used to looking at it all. When he was ready, they began moving along the walkway that extended the length of the cell block on the right hand side. Some of the cell were still sealed shut and secure; from within them the three knights caught glimpses of a variety of things that would have sent ordinary men away screaming in fear. They even recognized a few, captives from earlier missions Echo had carried out on the Order’s behalf. Others had been torn open, victims of the Eretiku’s search for nourishment and the corpses of more than one littered the walkway before them. The men from Echo were cautious, making certain the victims were actually dead before trying to move past them.

They had advanced almost to the end of the first walkway when it happened.

A hand snaked out from beneath the railing and clamped itself around Cade’s ankle. Before he had a chance to react, it yanked him off his feet and then dragged him with amazing strength across the walkway, beneath the railing, and out into the open air high above the floor three stories below.

But Cade would not be so easy a victim.

He released his grip on his pistol, sacrificing the weapon so as to leave both of his hands free. As his gun made the long fall to the floor below, Cade made a wild grab at the post of the railing as he was swept past.

Luck was with him. He caught a hold of it with one hand, arresting his fall, but the Eretiku still had a firm grip on his leg and was already trying to pull him loose from his makeshift anchor. Against the creature’s awesome strength, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.

“Help!” he yelled and hoped the others would be in time.

He could feel the thing’s claws digging right through the thick leather of his boot, searching for a better hold, and he redoubled his efforts to kick himself free of its grasp.

Hands wrapped themselves around his wrists and he looked up to find Olsen holding on to him, the other man’s feet braced against the railing as he fought to keep Cade from falling any further. Beside him, Callavecchio leaned over the railing, his mirror in one hand, angled so as to give him a view of what was happening below, and his pistol in the other.

“Hold still!” he shouted, and Cade had a second to think “easier said than done” before the other man opened fire.

It was a difficult task, firing over a ledge at an angle, past the struggling body of a friend, with only a small hand-held mirror with which to aim. Cade was all but certain he was going to end up with a slug in the leg, but even that would be preferable to the thirty foot fall he was currently staring in the face, so he simply closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

Callavecchio made three quick shots, one after another without pause, and the third and final shot was followed by an angry shriek that echoed off the cold stone walls. Cade felt the grip on his leg loosen and realized with something close to shock that he was uninjured and free.

“Quick! Pull me up!” he said and Olsen did just that, while Callavecchio kept his eye on the space beneath them.

“Do you see it?” Cade asked, climbing to his feet and drawing his sword so that he wouldn’t be defenseless if it attacked again.

Callavecchio shook his head while continuing to scan the lower area with the help of his mirror. “No. It’s gone, for now.”

But they knew it was there. Somewhere. The attack had merely redoubled their determination to find it and end its miserable life.

An hour later, however, they were back where they had started, at the edge of the second tier, still empty-handed. They had searched the entire cell block and had not found any further sign of the creature. Cade knew it was here somewhere; there was nowhere else for it to go. But so far it had managed to elude their best efforts at tracking it down.

Just where the hell was it?

As he looked out over the open space at the walkway on the other side of the cell block, something swung down from the tier above, hanging upside down directly in front of his face. It was close enough that he could feel its fetid breath on his cheek, could smell the stink of its unwashed body.

With the help of his Sight, Cade could see through the creature’s human guise, could see it for what it truly was; a rotting corpse with slavering jaws and molted skin. A third eye existed in the center of its forehead and it was from this that its wasting gaze originated. With the help of his Sight he could even see a black wave of power emerging from that orifice and he didn’t stop to think, didn’t even take the time to reason out the options, knowing his companions would be dead the moment they turned to look. Instead, he simply squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head forward as hard as he could.

His skull smashed into the Eretiku’s, dazing it, and he felt its weight fall upon him as its clawed feet lost their hold on the railing of the tier above. They tumbled to the floor, each fighting for the advantage, and ending up with Cade on his back and the Eretiku lying atop him, his hands wrapped around the other’s wrists as he fought to keep its slavering jaws from sinking into his unprotected neck. He bucked back and forth, trying to throw it off him, but it managed to wrap its feet around the back of his legs and held him close. He could hear it shrieking its rage and hunger at him, but he wouldn’t let that distract him for if it did he was dead.

As the creature shoved its face forward in another attempt, Callavecchio’s hand shot out and held a mirror directly in front of its eyes.

The result was astonishing.

Cade didn’t know if it was because its mystical gaze had been redirected back upon itself or if it simply couldn’t bear the sight of its true nature, but the Eretiku reared up, its prey beneath it forgotten for the moment as it clamped its hands over its eyes, shrieking in agony.

Olsen was ready and waiting. His sword flashed out in a savage blow, slashing through the creature’s arms just below the wrists and continuing forward, severing its head.

Its screams cut off abruptly and the body fell over backward, spewing blood as black as tar in every direction, as its head rolled off the edge and disappeared from sight.

For a moment no one moved, shocked into immobility by the suddenness of its end, and then Cade was kicking the thing’s rotting corpse off him in disgust as the other two men helped him to his feet.

“Are you all right?’ Olsen asked, his gaze never leaving the Eretiku’s corpse, as if he wasn’t quite convinced it was dead yet. It was a move learned from long experience; too many of the things they’d faced had a nasty habit of getting up again.

This time, however, the creature was good and gone.

Cade nodded in reply and fought to catch his breath. That had been closer than he liked. But the job was done and once more Echo had defied the odds, coming out on top without the loss of a single man. That made him smile, then laugh, and soon the other two men were laughing along with him in simple relief at the fact that they were alive while the enemy lay dead at their feet. They clapped each other on the back, congratulating themselves on the success of what they accomplished, and then turned toward the doors leading to the rest of the complex where their friends and squad mates were waiting.

Once again, Echo had triumphed.

But in the back of his mind Cade realized how close they had come to disaster.

Next time they might not be so lucky.

CHAPTER THREE

“Come on! Pull!” Riley yelled from his seat on the flybridge of the Hatteras 50 fishing yacht they’d rented back in Islamorada. Duncan was in the aft cockpit below him, desperately trying to reel in his fifth marlin of the day, while at the same time ignoring the good-natured insults coming from his left where Nick Olsen was seated, a beer in each hand and a grin on his face.

With the defeat of the Eretiku at the Longfort Containment Facility coming so close on the heels of the confrontation with the necromantic Council of Nine and the recovery of the Spear of Longinus, the higher-ups had decided Echo was due some much needed rest and relaxation. After the debriefings were done, the team had been given two weeks of leave.

The three sergeants from Echo’s command unit wasted no time in getting out of town. They flew by commercial airline to Miami, rented a car and drove down to Islamorada where their charter boat was waiting for them. For the last six days they had done nothing but fish, drink beer, and bask in the warm Florida sunshine.

Riley was of the opinion that while danger could bring men closer, fishing can bond them for life. He had a standing deal with one of the charter boat captains on the island; he paid a handsome fee to keep a boat ready and waiting for him and the captain made certain it was available on a moment’s notice. Over the years he’d made it a habit to go out with each of the team’s newcomers, getting to know them in a non-stress environment, doing what he could in that short time to size them up and understand how well they were going to fit into the unit. Those that didn’t pass his unofficial test were quietly transferred out of the unit by Cade, no questions asked.

Riley had pretty much made up his mind about the new guy before the trip had even gotten underway; Duncan’s performance during the assault on the Necromancer’s stronghold had seen to that. He’d been pleased to see how well the young sergeant had fit in with the two of them and after six days of hard fishing followed by nights of hard drinking, the three were as close as brothers.

As he watched Duncan struggle with the fish, the satellite phone clipped to the helm console between the depth sounder and the VHF rang. Riley ignored it at first, intent on the battle in the aft cockpit below him, but by the sixth ring his dedication to duty got the better of him. He spun his deck chair around and snatched the phone from its cradle.

“This had better be good.”

“I assure you it is, Master Sergeant.”

The voice was crisp and clean, with more than a hint of arrogance. Riley recognized it immediately and came up out of his chair, surprised into standing nearly at attention. Despite the fact that the man on the other end of the line was some 2500 miles away, Riley’s back was ramrod stiff and he stared out at the horizon directly in front of him, his attention completely focused on what was being said.