Avenging Angels (The Seraphim Chronicles Book 1) (11 page)

Evangeline had to take a closer look at this young Angel for herself.

She evacuated her TRTV before the rescuers secured the Angel within the medical vehicle. They were treating her injuries with fresh bandages and inserting an IV in her hand as Evangeline approached. She removed her helmet and placed it inside the door. The rescuers again asked the Angel her name, where she lived, who she lived with, what work she did, but she never said a word. She just stared up at the ceiling of the medical transport as if she were all alone in a quiet sanctuary.

Evangeline took notice of the blanket. It was old, generic, and dirty. Her eyes were drawn to a deep red spot soaking the blanket just as the medic lifted the Angel’s head to place a neck brace underneath. The rescue worker at the head of the stretcher looked down as he set the handles down on the lip of the doorway. “Look at this… behind her head on the blanket. That looks like blood.”

The medic rolled the Angel’s head to one side, to get a closer look. Neither the rescue worker nor Evangeline were prepared for what they saw. Instead of bloody, matted hair or a gash in the Angel’s flesh, Evangeline was stunned to discover a wide, gaping hole where a scalp and cranium should have been. The gap was big enough, she was certain, that she could have fit her fist inside with room to spare. However, the hole was the least macabre aspect of the discovery.

Evangeline had witnessed head injuries from combat off world, even in gruesome training accidents. She had long ago grown desensitized to spilt blood and gory injuries. What made her taste bile in the back of her throat was the emptiness within the skull. Absolute emptiness. No brain matter or tissues as far as she could detect from her point of view over the rescue workers shoulder.

Behind her, she heard the strangled voice of her trainee. “What the…?”

Evangeline turned around to see the three other TRTV pilots standing in a half-circle, holding their helmets. Behind them, the crowd of pedestrians and rescue workers craned their necks to get a glimpse of the bizarre aberration that had caused the medics to drop the survivor on the hard, dusty road.

One of the other patrol pilots spoke first. Evangeline did not know him by name. He was a tall, tough looking man, with dark skin and short-cropped blond hair. She always thought he looked intimidating on base, but at that moment, he looked frightened.

“Captain?” he said in a hoarse whisper. “What the hell is that?”

THIRTEEN

Derek Campbell, Director of Angel Affairs, sat typing on the holographic keyboard, floating on the glass top desk in the dim light of his office. The only feeble light in the room emanated from a small lamp perched at the edge of the desk. Campbell thrived in shadows. He was a lover of secrets, and secrets were best kept in darkness. As a youth he learned to lurk in the shadows at the fringe of activity, away from the eyes of onlookers, perfecting near-invisibility. As fiercely as he cloaked his own secrets in the darkness, the shadows were the perfect place to discover the black secrets within others.

              “Mr. Campbell, Director Wright is here to see you. He said it’s urgent.” Campbell’s stony face cracked with a quick sneer. Director Mitchell Wright was another member of the committee formed by the Quorum of Zeus to integrate the Angels into Olympic society. Campbell oversaw their housing in the Cathedrals. Wright was responsible for their education. The thought of educating Angels both amused and frustrated Campbell. At times Campbell pitied his colleague.

Campbell’s tenure on the committee was in its ninth year when Mitchell Wright accepted the vacant seat. Wright had no idea what kind of world he was stepping into when he joined the group that was even unknown to the most elite families of Olympus.

              The airy voice of Campbell’s Angel assistant, Sienna, piped into his office over the intercom. Campbell kept an Angel in his employ because she did her job efficiently and minded her own business. Angels were also well-versed in secrecy, and in his line of work there were a great number of sensitive secrets to protect.

Sienna dressed in simple clothes, like most Angels. Unlike Graham, a man Campbell loathed for his opulent lifestyle, he never required his assistant to dress in provocative fashions. He failed to see the necessity of his colleagues’ investments in the lavish appearance of their staff. Most importantly, an Angel in flamboyant attire would draw unwanted attention to himself, and attention was something he despised and shunned.

“Send him in,” he answered.

The office door flung open and Mitchell Wright strode in, making a point of securing the door behind him.

“There’s no need for that, Mitchell,” Campbell said, glancing up. “You know she won’t repeat anything she might hear.”

Mitchell Wright sat down in the hard, straight-backed chair in front of Campbell’s desk. Such an uncomfortable seat discouraged visitors from remaining in it for long periods. Campbell did not like visitors -he preferred his shadowy solitude.

“Perhaps,” Wright replied. “But I would prefer to have this discussion behind closed doors. I thought you of all people valued privacy above all else.”

Campbell grunted in acknowledgement. He finished scribbling some notes on the glass, placing the pen with sharp precision on the desk. He leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands on the desktop in front of him. His eyed bored into Wright.

“What do we need to discuss that merits this interruption, Wright?” he said.

Wright cleared his throat and squirmed in his chair. Perspiration ran along his hairline.  “An Angel was found at the scene of a vehicular collision in the southwest LTZ this afternoon.”

Campbell’s face was impassive, which made Wright feel even more nervous.

And?” Campbell prompted.

Wright cleared his throat again. “I’m aware this isn’t the kind of development I would typically waste your time with, Derek. However, the peculiar condition of the Angel flagged the special alert. She was found by rescuers, under a pile of construction material. She was wrapped in a blanket and suffered severe head trauma.”

“
And
?” Campbell’s eyebrows knit together as he drummed his fingers on the desktop. “Please get to the part where this becomes my concern.” Most people would have shrunk at the withering glare of Campbell’s eyes.

However, Wright matched Campbell’s contempt with his own dark glare. He not only despised Campbell for his demeaning behavior, but for enabling the life of secrets, which burdened him every day. Had Wright known, had he had an inkling of what risks would be involved, he would never have accepted this position. The perks he had once thought would outweigh any downside were few and far between. The only thing Wright longed for was to wash his hands of the messy business and leave it behind forever.

“The Angel was found alive. With a
hole
in the back of her head,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

Campbell remained impassive, staring at Wright across the desk. Wright could see the wheels turning in his mind as he calculated the gravity of these ramifications.

Campbell’s stern façade transformed, like a wax statue melting in the sun. “I see.” Like a switch, his expression changed again from disappointed to threatening. Wright was shifting in his seat - he was not eager, for what he knew was coming next.

Campbell resumed his earlier posture, closer to Wright than before.

“You haven’t told me the worst part, have you?” his voice seethed.

“No.” Wright squirmed. He swallowed and took a deep breath, screwing up his courage “The Angel is an adolescent.”

Campbell sat still as a sphinx, unyielding his gaze upon Wright the entire time he processed the new data. Wright stared back, swallowing several times, wary of how Campbell would respond next. He was locked in a cage with an unpredictable beast.

Campbell closed his eyes and sat back in his chair, taking a slow, deep breath. He kept the tips of his fingers together, drumming them in a pattern, as had been his habit his entire life. He swiveled his chair away from Wright to stare out the window. When he turned back around and faced Wright, his glare was intense and laser-focused.

              “Who else knows about this?”

FOURTEEN

Moments after the gruesome discovery to the Angel’s head, the medics whisked her away to the nearest Cathedral for treatment. It was standard procedure to allow Angels to look after their own; they preferred to receive medical care in their own facilities. In the aftermath of the collision, Chief Roberts took eyewitness statements from everyone on the scene, including Evangeline and the other pilots, for his official report. However, the mystery of how a juvenile Angel came to be found under a pile of steel in the middle of the LTZ.

Following the cleanup of the accident in the LTZ, Evangeline, Daryl, and the other patrol team prepared their TRTVs for the return to the base. The TRTVs had loaded the rest of the pipes onto the second freight hauler, but when additional emergency and service vehicles arrived, there was not enough room in the intersection for the TRTVs and the new LTZ crews. Evangeline and the others had become an unnecessary hindrance.

Evangeline glanced around and spotted Daryl down a side street flirting with some local girls. In Olympus or the LTZ, there was something that excited women about a man in uniform..

Evangeline stood for a moment studying Daryl in his prime flirtatious form. Although their training relationship had been brief, she thought of Daryl almost like a little brother. He had quite a bit of maturing to do, and she was going to be there to show him the ropes.

Alpha patrols Seven and Eight had already reconnected to their vehicles by the time Evangeline returned to the cluster of grounded TRTVs. She let out a shrill whistle at Daryl, signaling him to cease and desist flirting and get back in his cockpit.

Evangeline stopped in her tracks when she discovered a woman in a drab olive scarf examining the armature of her TRTV. A man was doing the same thing next to Daryl’s TRTV. She hastened her pace to a brisk stride.

“Can I help you with something?’ Evangeline called out, carrying her helmet under her left arm. The woman froze and turned around, startled.

“Oh, just admiring the hardware,” she grinned, shrugging her shoulders. A breeze shifted the scarf on the woman’s neck, revealing the telltale ports of a TRTV pilot. They looked older and scarred, but they glowed with the same intensity as Evangeline’s. Evangeline lit up, curious yet cautious.

“You were a TRTV pilot? When did you retire?”

The woman tugged at her scarf, securing it against the breeze. An embarrassed smile escaped her lips.

“I don’t like to talk about it, if you don’t mind,” she said, averting her eyes. She walked toward the strange man, who had started chatting with Daryl next to the other TRTV. Taking his arm, they walked away without another word and disappeared into the crowd.

Daryl came over and stood behind Evangeline as her eyes scanned the area for the strange couple. “People are so weird out here, Captain, don’t you think?” he asked. Evangeline turned to face him.

“What did that man want?”

“He wouldn’t leave me alone when I tried reconnecting to my TRTV. He insisted on sharing a drink with me to show gratitude for helping with the wreckage.” Daryl shook his head. “I told him I was on duty, but he insisted it was just water. Some strange LTZ tradition.” Daryl turned toward his TRTV
,
and reconnected to his chair before ascending up into the cockpit.

Something about the two strangers unsettled Evangeline. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the short encounter with them made her wary. She puzzled why the man would only offer a drink to Daryl when all four pilots assisted in the rescue and clean-up efforts. Jack was from the LTZ - she never recalled him mentioning a tradition of sharing water as an expression of gratitude. She fastened her helmet. None of the events of the day since they happened upon the accident made any sense to Evangeline.

Evangeline mulled over the bizarre events of the afternoon as she sat down in her chair. Her fingers danced over the control pad as she activated the connection protocols. She felt the ports reconnect, and she ascended back up into her cockpit. Sirens and strobe lights began to flash and blare on the TRTV’s exterior, alerting the spectators to avoid the assault of dust and debris from the take-off. A voice cut through the silence, and she recognized Daryl’s boyish candor.

“Didn’t they all seem awfully strange to you, Captain?”

“You already said that, Simmonds,” she chuckled. “Maybe they are weird as you say, but I think most people are weird.”

They pair of TRTVs soared into the atmosphere. “And I kind of like it that way.”

Daryl followed her back up to cruising altitude. Evangeline noticed the time. “Okay, greenie, it looks like our patrol is just about over. Let’s head back to base. You take the lead.”

Evangeline could not help but smile when she heard the excitement in Daryl’s voice. “Roger that, Captain; engaging auto-return navigation. Try and keep up, will you?”

Evangeline’s eyebrows rose as she turned her head to look at Daryl through her cockpit shielding. “So, that’s how you want to play it, huh?” she smirked. Her engines howled as she accelerated to catch up to Daryl sprinting away like a puppy chasing a ball.

              The return trip to the base was uneventful, aside from Daryl chatting away for most of the flight about the girls he had met. Evangeline could not believe in the short time he had flirted with those girls he managed to arrange a date with the one with light brown hair and almond eyes in Olympus during his next off-duty period. Suddenly he lost all interest in talking, flying quiet for the last leg of the return flight. Evangeline was still getting to know him, so she was not sure if the abrupt end to his chattiness was normal or not for. The silence was eerie, though refreshing at the same time. Ten minutes away from the base, the control tower made contact for approach procedures.

“Tower One-Seven to patrol Alpha One and Two; you are cleared to landing pads G-Two-Five and G-Two-Six.”

Daryl did not respond, so Evangeline took the lead. “Roger that, tower. Heading to landing pads G-Two-Five and G-Two-Six. Simmonds, you’re in the lead so you proceed to G-Two-Five, got it?”

Evangeline heard nothing but silence in her headset.

“Simmonds!” she barked. “Pad G-Two-Five! Do you copy?”

More silence and then Evangeline got a visual of Daryl’s TRTV speeding up toward the base, veering off course to the left.

“Simmonds, your velocity is too great. You’ve got to straighten up and slow down.” What appeared to be a hotshot flyboy stunt would land him in some very hot water.

“Private Simmonds! Confirm directive to reduce speed and proceed to landing pad G-Two-Five. Respond, that’s an order!” she shouted. Still no confirmation from Daryl.

“Tower,” Evangeline spoke into her headset. “This is Patrol Alpha One. I’ve got a problem with my greenie. He may have a damaged channel. Can you detect a problem with his channel on your end?”

“Negative, Alpha One. We’re detecting a clear, open channel with Alpha Two.” Evangeline became worried. If Daryl was not in control of his TRTV, they only had a few minutes before things were about to get ugly.

She activated her autopilot and opened her security override protocols. As the senior patrol officer, she had the authority to remote access the internal cameras of her trainee’s TRTV. She tapped into his on-board security feed. She could not see his face under the optical visor on his helmet but his head lolling about on his shoulder indicated he was unconscious. Something on his neck made Evangeline zoom in. Through the camera feed, she recoiled at a gash along his neck that was emitting pinkish ooze. From the stain on the front of his uniform, it looked like he had already suffered substantial blood-loss.

“Tower One-Seven, this is Alpha One. I’m declaring an emergency. My wingman appears to be unconscious, injured, and losing blood. I advise to clear the area and deploy the nets. We’re coming in hot.” Evangeline launched her TRTV forward to catch up with Daryl.

The sirens below began to wail. All across the landing zone, base personnel scrambled into TRTVs, ground service trucks, and emergency response vehicles. Safety nets at the far end of the landing area deployed toward the sky, but the nets would be of little use.

Evangeline’s nature instructed her HUD to calculate Daryl’s trajectory. Her eyes widened in horror, as she understood that Daryl’s trajectory would overshoot the nets, making the base’s medical facility his unfortunate target. Without warning, the rogue TRTV careened left, then jolted back to the right, lunging full throttle toward the edge of the nets. He was going to miss.

Evangeline knew there was only one thing to do. She activated her weapons pods, expanding them outward from the sides of her cockpit. An automated warning blared in her ears.

“Warning! Deactivate weapons! Weapons activation is not authorized in landing area!” The disembodied message repeated itself as Evangeline maneuvered closer to Daryl.

“Evans!” A robust voice yelled into her ear. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Evangeline needed no introduction to recognize Colonel Jacobs’ voice.

“It’s the only way to save him, sir!” she yelled back. She veered to the right, swinging out to flank Daryl on his right quarter. She obtained a target lock on his TRTV and fired.

An air-to-air missile erupted from her portside weapons array. A second shot erupted from her starboard array, firing a thin cable attached to a spike, which followed alongside the missile.

Just before the missile made impact with Daryl’s starboard engine pod, it leapfrogged over the top of the TRTV and exploded in mid-air, releasing a cloud of lightning. The nebulous fog of electrified vapor shorted the power supply in Daryl’s TRTV as he flew through it, stalling the massive airborne vehicle as it
st
plummeted toward the landing field. Milliseconds after the plasma ball shut down the power systems, the spike she had fired at Daryl’s TRTV penetrated the rear plating and began to drag Evangeline with it down to the ground like a millstone around her neck. Her engines rotated down and backward, screaming against the additional load. Daryl’s machine swung like a pendulum into the safety nets, the momentum almost tearing clean through. Evangeline released the tow cable and a split second later she clipped the top edge of the net, wobbling through the sky above a group of new trainees performing simple maneuvers below.

She couldn’t believe she pulled it off, that she survived! “What was that all about?” she whispered to herself, watching the nets contort from Daryl’s meteoric impact. Her heart pounding, she took several deep breaths to steady her shaking hands.

The sirens of the emergency vehicles overpowered the base sirens as they closed in on the wreckage of Daryl’s TRTV on the ground. She could hear Jacobs’ slow, measured breathing in her headset. His growl penetrated the roar of blood pumping in her ears.

“My office! Fifteen minutes!”