Avenging Angels (The Seraphim Chronicles Book 1) (7 page)

Jack walked out of the kitchen and into his office. He sat down at his desk and turned on the surface computer interface with a casual swipe of his hand across the glass.

A holographic display appeared over the desktop and a keyboard glowed on the surface. Jack began to type and opened up a new project file. He named it GIDEON.

NINE

Silas Graham was sitting at his desk when his personal assistant, Celeste, brought him his morning beverage. Celeste was an Angel. Graham liked having Angels working for him. It appealed to his vanity to have an Angel of exquisite beauty, such as Celeste, at his side. They flattered his ego and made him feel less self-conscious about his eerie eyes.

Graham ensured that Celeste never left his side. She was with him twenty-four hours a day, even helping him bathe in the mornings. Her devotion to his every need, want, and desire was absolute. He had no tolerance for the simple attire commonly worn by the Angels. Celeste obliged when he insisted that she dress in a more provocative fashion, although what she wore on the outside did not seem to affect her selfless disposition.

After setting the drink down in front of him, she stood by his desk with a pleasant smile on her face, eager to please. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Silas?” she asked in soothing tones. He had always insisted she call him by his first name instead of using formal salutations.

Graham turned from the window and smiled. Her eyes captivated him with their sincerity, yet there always seemed to be something missing. “No thank you, Celeste. That will be all for now.”

She turned with a warm smile, walking toward the door and returning to her desk outside his office. In Graham’s mind, she was a capable assistant, but lacked initiative. He liked giving orders, and he liked when people did as instructed. She always did as he asked without question or hesitation. However, she never did something that he had not already asked her to do, like the routine of his morning pick-me-up. Celeste never brought it to him without his requesting it each morning.

This flaw frustrated him, but her blind obedience was better than having his authority questioned by a subordinate. The last time he had been shown a lack of respect had been off world, when his perseverance bore fruit and he found the Dissident laboratory, when he had been face to face with the daughter of his old friend, Captain Evangeline Chapel.

“Captain Evangeline Evans, now,” he thought to himself. He had tried shaming her by demoting her rank for her insubordinate attitude. But after locating and securing Matthew’s lab, and even denouncing her parents in her mission report, the worst damage Graham could inflict was having her reassigned to security patrols in the LTZ.

Graham wanted the reassignment to be a punishment, but from the scant reports and rumors from his contacts on the base, the transfer did not have the effect he desired. From everything he heard, Evangeline had remarried and became a successful TRTV instructor on the base. It frustrated Graham to no end that the base commander had intervened on Evangeline’s behalf and protected her from his wrath.

Graham continued to stare out the glazed wall of his large corner office. His last off-world mission was the success he needed to obtain a permanent assignment to Olympus. The promotion afforded him the luxuries he so enjoyed. Increased pay, heightened security clearance, and living quarters in the upper levels. He even had a private transport with an Angel driver in addition to Celeste. The equipment, specimens, and notes recovered by the second team he dispatched down to the moon were what he needed to obtain the post on Mars’ staff, even though Graham himself did not understand what it was Evangeline’s team found, or why it was so important.

The public personnel file of General James ‘Mars’ Reynolds illuminated above Graham’s desk. The file showed Reynolds to be a short man with a stocky build. Many believed that Reynolds, and the other members of the Quorum of Zeus, were immortal. No one knew his actual age because he had had countless Angel transplants over the years, perpetually extending his life. Some had even speculated that he did not have an original body part left in his frame.

Reynolds had carried the title of Mars longer than anyone alive could remember. To serve under him was considered a great honor, and those on his staff had taken the name of Martian upon themselves with pride. It was said Reynolds could be as wise a prophet and as cunning as the devil.

Graham had wanted to work under James Reynolds since his childhood. Reynolds gave Graham the prime corner office, although an Angel named Sara, one of his personal assistants, made the arrangements. Reynolds, a secretive recluse, only met in person with the other members of the Quorum of Zeus, the ruling body of Olympus, which Graham did not have the security clearance to address.

From his vantage point in the office, Graham could see the surrounding LTZ spreading outward for miles. His disdain for anyone who chose such a life was palatable. He grew up in Olympus to a life of privilege. His grandfather had been a member of Reynolds’ staff decades ago, but he had died before obtaining a post as notable as the one Graham held. It had been Graham’s lifelong ambition to exceed his grandfather’s prominence and bring honor to the family name.

Below him, Graham could see the military base. Vehicles buzzed to and from the landing area, which resembled a giant honeycomb board. He wondered if one of the little dots was Captain Evans, off on another wonderful adventure into the exciting factories and stimulating farmlands in the distance. He allowed himself a grin for his own cleverness. He was certain the reassignment he had made would teach her a lesson she would never forget.

Above, he saw the intercontinental transports arriving at the Stratoport. He grew up learning that before the collapse, air transportation had been so common that people would travel by air from one major city to the next. Ground travel was much slower by comparison.

After the Great Recovery, continental travel was available by maglev trains, and only intercontinental travel would use hypersonic airship transports.

Graham was very aware of the transportation requirements of Olympus, the LTZ, and the security installations along the borders. His responsibility on Reynolds staff was overseeing security and maintenance over the Continental Transportation System. It may not have been the largest in the world, but in his mind, it was the most important because it was his to command.

Celeste interrupted his thought process as she entered his peripheral vision. She did it to get his attention without direct interruption. Her footsteps were as quiet as a whisper. Even in her heeled shoes, it seemed she floated across the floor more than walked across it. Graham smiled at her, unable to resist the surge of gratification he felt to have her. He could not help himself. “Yes, Celeste? What is it?”

She gave him another warm smile. He liked it when she smiled at him. It made him feel powerful and important. “Colonel Jacobs is here to see you,” she said. “He doesn’t have an appointment.” She beamed as if giving this news to Graham was the most gratifying task of her life.

Graham never cared if one of his superiors had an appointment. He would see them even if he were in the middle of a meeting. Celeste only made a point of it because she once interrupted his window gazing to announce a visitor from the transportation supervisor’s office. Graham remembered the first and only time he had barked at Celeste. “Don’t sneak up behind me without announcing yourself!” Graham had turned around and put on his most frightening sneer to intimidate his new assistant. “Does he have an appointment?” he asked knowing that his schedule for the day was wide open.

Celeste, without taking any offense, had smiled at him and answered, “No, sir. He does not have an appointment. What would you like me to do?”

Graham’s eyes softened as he sat looking at his assistant. Her innocent smile was unaffected by his gruff nature. He felt a tinge of guilt by his impatience toward her. Graham took a deep breath, turned away from his desk, “Escort him in… in ten minutes.” It was that day that he started keeping Celeste by his side at all times.

Graham pulled himself from his memory and walked past Celeste toward his desk. As he passed her, he brushed his hand across the small of her back. She smiled but otherwise did not make any indication that she noticed. “Please tell him I’ll be with him in a moment.”

Celeste nodded and walked out to her desk. Graham heard their mumbled conversation. It was the usual, ‘he’ll be right with you’, kind of thing that Graham liked to make people wait for him. Jacobs was not Graham’s superior, so he did not feel like he needed to play the part of the eager to please subordinate.

Colonel Mark Jacobs was a tall man with dark skin, dark eyes, and a thick black mustache. Both of Jacobs’ parents were in the military and he enlisted the day after graduation from the military academy. He was as tough as steel, and as sharp as a tack. He rejected offers of promotion to military intelligence. He preferred action, activity, and operations that utilized his body as well as his mind. In time, and with a distinguished career as a TRTV pilot and carrier commander, he became the commandant of the military training facility. Jacob’s intervention prevented Graham from kicking Evangeline out of the military entirely. He was not just her superior officer, but he had gone to school with Evangeline’s mother and had been her life-long friend.

Jacobs had not been convinced that the Chapels had joined the Dissident movement. He watched over Evangeline from a distance when he learned about the disappearance and public lynching of her parents. After she returned to Earth, when Graham tried to get her discharged from the corps, he became Evangeline’s mentor and friend.

This, alone, made Mark Jacobs an enemy in the eyes of Silas Graham.

After making Jacobs wait for fifteen minutes, Graham told Celeste over the speaker to send him in. It was another one of those moves that made sure people knew Graham was superior.

Jacobs stepped into the room and made his way to Graham’s desk. At which point Graham stood up and shook Jacobs’s hand. “Colonel Jacobs, how are you?” He moved to the small conference table near the window as Jacobs sat down.

Jacobs just smiled. He had known men like Graham all his life. In Jacob’s mind they were little better than irrelevant politicians, always full of swagger; either they were sucking up to superiors or looking down on subordinates. No one was his equal.

Jacobs stood back up and moved to sit down across from Graham who had already taken the seat that faced the door. Jacobs knew it was a trivial psychological tactic to make him feel less secure. However, it did not bother him. He preferred his vantage point. He could watch out the window for falling debris or vehicles with an aggressive posture, and he could watch the reflection of the door at the same time. Graham’s choice of seats showed he saw Jacobs as a threat and felt the need to place himself in a defensible position.

Graham waited for Jacobs to speak first, another pathetic tactic in Jacob’s mind. “Commander Graham, there’s a problem with the ground transports on my base. I came to ask for your help in the matter.”

Jacobs grinned to himself. That was how you put a politician in the hot seat. Tell him there was a problem with something under his direct authority without being specific, and then make him wonder why he did not know about it. Graham felt off guard for only a moment. He was sly and he knew how to recover without revealing his own lack of intelligence.

“To which problem are you referring, Colonel?” He replied in patronizing tone. “There are many issues I’m tasked with managing. Can you be more specific?” His eyes glittered in a snake-like way, while his smile expelled oozing condescension.

“So…” Jacobs thought. “This is how we’re going to do it today.” It was not the first time Jacobs had to deal with Graham. Dealing with Graham meant figuring out his mood of the day.

“I’ve received reports over the past several months of maglev engineers with complaints ranging from the flu to serious skin conditions.” Jacobs replied in his authoritative military voice. “It’s becoming disruptive to activities on the base and I can’t afford to have any of my pilots get sick from one of your engineers and spread it around my patrols. Do you even know what’s going on with your people? But more importantly, what are you and the Department of Health doing about it?” Jacobs demanded. His inclination to play nice never lasted long with Graham.

Graham frowned. He did not like it when people spoke down to him. He thought himself above most others. “First, Colonel, I’m well aware that there are several engineers fabricating illnesses in an attempt to negotiate an increase in benefits.” He lied. “Second, I’ve already been in contact with the Department of Health and they’ve assured me that the individuals in question have been cleared for work. And third, the next time you come up here with outlandish accusations, you’d better have more to back up your claims than alleged reports.” Graham stood up and returned to his desk without even looking back at Jacobs.

Jacobs’s eyes followed Graham to his desk. “It would be too simple to just kill him.” He thought. “That would be the easy solution.” He stood up and turned toward Graham’s desk. He placed his cap back on his head and stared at the man sitting at his desk pretending to be working until the uncomfortable silence in the room compelled him to look up.

Graham had not noticed that Colonel Jacobs had taken several steps and stood in front of him as rigid as a steel column. He could feel Jacobs staring down with hard, merciless eyes like the alpha in a pack. He struggled against the urge to submit, but his deep psychological need to feel safe won out over his desire for egotistical megalomania.