Plague of Coins (The Judas Chronicles #1) (14 page)

It added credibility to the premise I’d actually been out of commission the past three days. I noticed then that Alistair bore more bruises than Amy, and I was greatly alarmed by the angry red ring around his neck. Obvious ligature marks, he looked at me with pleading eyes. It broke my heart to see him like this, and I silently lamented that I allowed us to get suckered into this assignment. Despite the terrible torture and discomfort he had already endured, I could tell he was fighting to hold his even-keeled disposition together. Probably the same thing was true for Amy, whose shivering body revealed the dire distress she hid admirably beneath her defiant countenance.

Yet, I doubt she even understood how little the Russian agents in the room cared about hers or Alistair’s courage one way or another.

“No, you
only
are the squatters, as we have already made legitimate claims with the Iranian government,” said Viktor, stepping back toward me from the others.

Time had been kind to the former chief adversary for the KGB. Although more than a dozen years had passed since we last faced off, he still carried the same virile air. His slicked back blonde hair bore just a slight hint of gray along the temples, and his steel blue eyes gleamed with the same malice I remembered. If not for the chiseled bone structure in his face that had held up remarkably well since our last encounter, there would be no hiding the monster that lurked within.

“If the Iranian people knew what you guys were up to, I doubt your claims would remain legitimate for long.” I hoped my bravado and intense dislike of this man didn’t translate to a quick demise for the two kids under my care and supervision. “That’s the problem with you and any other Soviet—once an arrogant jackass, then always an arrogant jackass.”

Yes, I was definitely stoking the fire here—which might seem in direct contradiction to what I just advised about my concern about our future. Yet, two members of this group—the youngest male and the lone female—had just moved over to the table and picked up a pair of branding irons and placed them into the burning hearth. I didn’t have to look over at Alistair and Amy to know they were terrified.... I felt their rising panic as it radiated toward me. Being ‘contraire’ was the only thing I could think of to buy us more time...more time to think up a better plan.

“You are quite
incorrect!”
said a booming voice from behind me. “I would say that being an ‘arrogant jackass’ is an American trait—an
exclusive
American quality!”

I couldn’t turn my head far enough to see who it was, but a moment later an immense human being appeared beside my chair. Petr Stanislav’s hulking frame loomed above me. Even uglier than the photograph Michael Lavoie had shown to me, his image must have been retouched. Or, more than likely, there was a much greater distance between his hideous mug and the camera lens when the picture was taken as compared to my unfortunate eyes right then. Not even the Amosu beige casual suit he wore could save him.

He bent down toward me, his big bushy head of reddish blonde hair encroaching into my personal space. His breath smelled like a sour outhouse, and the joyless mirth in his eyes told me that he greatly relished my discomfort by his presence. The antitheses to Viktor’s deadly charms, though both were venomous vipers at heart.

“Why else would you so foolishly come here?” he continued. “You, who are supposed to be such a great American spy, and yet failed miserably in carrying out a simple surveillance... Not to mention your CIA’s inept plan for your father, Alistair, and Stephen Golden Eagle’s daughter to infiltrate our operation. You are
all
arrogant jackasses!”

His deep voice rumbled with delight. I guess it didn’t take much to amuse this abhorrent giant. At least that was my initial impression, until he grew serious, eyeing me with ever-deepening contempt.

“Well, then, humor me big guy.” I leaned away from him to avoid the halitosis fumes. “What else could we have done, since you’ve done a poor job of keeping things secret? Very soon, the entire free world will know what you and your buddies have been up to around here!”

Not a guarantee, but chances of our Russian captors keeping satellite images secret were becoming increasingly difficult. One good network hacker is all it would take, and then the outer space images of a mountainside disappearing on earth could go viral on the internet in under a day.

The surprised look I received from Petr Stanislav confirmed my assertion’s accuracy.

“You could have simply cancelled, and not come out here!” Sneering, he turned away and moved over to the table, where he picked up a long serrated knife. “I would gladly tell you more about what all of this means for our future—the improved lot of my Soviet brethren as well as the overdue demise for your American government—but I have already grown weary of your presence!”

He chuckled as he returned his gaze to me, and this time the heavy soulless timber from his throat sent an icy chill up and down my spine.

At first I had nothing more to say...no more clever replies. But then I thought about the brethren he referred to—the peaceful Russian populace who are as kind and noble as any other people I’ve ever encountered. Except for their KGB faction.

“Okay, lay it on me, then,” I said brazenly. “I’d love to hear the tale of how what you’re doing here in Iran will actually benefit your Russian brothers and sisters.”

He glared in response, but that was it. Stanislav had already made up his mind. With no appeals left, it was time for a miracle. Viktor’s added snicker further heightened my dread.

“I have run out of patience with you. So, we shall leave your fate to Vera and Nicholas.” Stanislav moved past me and motioned for the rest of his team to follow him out of the building. The two assistants he referred to grabbed a fiery branding iron apiece and approached me from either side. “Have fun Mr. Barrow. The rest of your life is now in the hands of my most ruthless subordinates. That should give you something to think about while they sear the very flesh from your bones!”

“Bye-bye, William!” crooned Viktor, his tone rapturous. Honestly, I expected a little more respect from him, but I guess some wounds from long ago were still fresh. “Maybe we’ll meet again, eh? Perhaps eventually in the afterlife?”

Not if I can help it, you sorry sack of shit!

It was the last calm thought I had before Vera and Nicolas reached my chair.

Chapter 14

I tried to think of someplace happy...someplace heavenly. Or, at least a place I was familiar with...a place where unspoiled innocence ruled my days and nights. That usually did the trick for me. It had ever since I was a young boy, growing up in Judea.

Sometimes, the image of my mother’s face would come to me, so warm and so sweet. A natural beauty that was taken from this life when I was still a boy. My father’s bitterness, from losing the only thing he ever loved, was often felt in the blows he’d deliver to my brother and me. I believe that’s where my skepticism about the innate goodness of God Almighty was born. Even now—despite living the miracle that is my existence—I have my moments when I can’t see His providence...His eternal goodness.

“This is going to hurt—I won’t lie about that,” said Nicholas, his English nearly buried in his Ukrainian accent as he brought the heated brand up to my face. I could feel the fiery heat as the inflamed tip hovered just below my right eye. “I want to hear you scream!”

‘Hear you
squeam
?’ I mused silently. But it was hard to ignore the sharp malice in the tone. These assholes were all the same. Even the girl named Vera wore a sadistic sneer that made her otherwise comely features look especially ugly. Truth be told, these two dark haired miscreants with pale gray eyes reminded me of a recent cartoon version of Hansel and Gretel, hunched over with their red-hot prods held out in front of them like defensive weapons. It was as if they fully expected their dangerous captive to escape his bonds and tear their frigging crazy expressions clean off their faces.

Not quite the way it went down, but I did have a few tricks up my sleeve. Why they left my feet unfettered remains a mystery to me. Maybe because, in most cases, a captive wouldn’t be thinking of ways to use their lower extremities to compensate for the lack of use of one’s upper body.

It’s for times like these that two thousand years of experience comes in handy. That, and the fact unless they scored a direct hit on a vital organ, I would recover, and quickly. More like immediately. Therefore, threats of burning holes in my face or searing my eyeballs out of my head didn’t have quite the same effect it would have on most folks.

Just as the brand touched my skin, sending terrible pain into thousands of nerve endings on my face, I entangled Nicholas’s legs with mine and drew him closer. The brand’s fiery tip gouged into my face as layers of skin fell away. I could hear Amy shrieking in the background, along with my boy’s anguished cries for my assailants to take him instead.

Like I’d ever let that happen.

But I had a plan. Holding my breath in order to minimize the excruciating agony inflicted upon the right side of my face, I stood up with the heavy chair attached to me. I may not look like Superman, but years of strength training and ‘mind over matter’ exercises made this easier than some might think. Definitely easier than Nicholas or Vera did, I’m sure.

Nicholas let out a surprised gasp as he stumbled into Vera and then landed on his back upon the floor. I moved in quickly and swung the weight of the chair into her arm holding her brand. It flew out and landed on Nicholas’s chest.

Here’s where it could’ve all gone disastrously for me, and I knew I only had a few seconds to overtake them. I couldn’t do anything immediately about the shrill screams he let out as the fiery brand ignited his shirt, but before he could stand up I swung around once more, throwing my weight fully into the movement. Thankfully I didn’t lose my balance and Vera was too stunned to step out of the way. I hit her full on, and she landed on her blazing cohort.

She was too surprised to let out anything more than a yelp. I had to finish the job on them before the pair raised enough holy hell for Viktor, Petr, and the rest of the gang to realize it wasn’t William Barrow screaming inside this building. Again, the fact the fire quickly spread from him to her wasn’t a deterrent for me. It couldn’t be. I couldn’t let that possibility exist, despite the incredible pain I endured after my right cheek was destroyed. Charred flaps of skin and gum tissue hung from the right side of my face. But I only allowed myself a quick glance toward the door, to make sure no one was coming to crash this party. Then I dove on top of Vera and Nicholas, using the combined weight of the chair and my frame to inflict a crushing blow.

I heard Vera’s spinal column crack open, which immobilized her. To seal the deal on this, I rolled over their faces. Suffocation wasn’t possible, but the flames spread across us all. I had no choice but to lie there, writhing in my own fiery hell and praying it didn’t take too long for them to expire. Otherwise, there would be three smoldering corpses when Stanislav’s supervisory team returned.

Luckily, the fire spread across the bonds upon my arms and hands as well, and soon I was able to tear through them. Able to pat down the flames before too much living tissue upon my upper body had died, I kept the only eye I still had—my left one—on the smoldering pile of human flesh that had been my assailants. Both were dead. But until Nicholas’s legs quit moving from death spasms, I had to wait to rescue Alistair and Amy.

Both looked at me with slack-jawed fearful expressions, surely stunned by how quickly the tables had turned in our favor. Or, more likely, they were dumbfounded by the transformation going on before them. My body’s regeneration process was in high gear. A familiar tingling sensation flowed down from the crown of my head toward my feet. I didn’t need a mirror to confirm the re-growth of hair, eyelashes, skin, and muscular tissues. Not to mention my blurred vision in one eye soon became clear sight in both eyes. I don’t always feel everything, but in all the hundreds of times I’ve had this experience, I’ve never healed incompletely. Not once—not even when I’ve died and suddenly ended up somewhere else.

“W-what the hell just h-happened?”
Alistair was too taken aback not to stammer.

Yes, he’s witnessed some amazing things from dear old dad before, but nothing quite like this. Like all good parents, I hoped to spare him from ever seeing something this extreme. In fact, this was only the second time he had ever seen me kill someone, and the very first time in face to face combat. The last time had been a rifle shot to protect him from a Colombian cartel assassin.