The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series) (10 page)

The video is quite disturbing.  Znuul and crew showed up for the Sunday morning broadcast of The Reverend Buford M. Highcotton
’s show.  Buford’s broadcast is seen on public access channels all over the southern US and sporadically across the rest of the United States.

A good target, in that press coverage is almost guaranteed.

Unfortunately, this time I think Mrs. Highcotton’s mascara ridden tearful pleas were probably sincere, this time. 

And very unheard.

As the Highcotton’s base of operation is in Memphis, Tennessee I am hoping we have the opportunity to go on the hunt.  Sitting here holed up is trying my limited patience. There is a Protectorate conference on the matter.  Edgar let me know that I was not invited, but would be advised, personally. What bullcrap.  Greg agrees and lets Edgar know he’ll be here with me – waiting for information.

“This isn’t time for politics
,” Greg says to me.  “But if Alistair wants to play that way, he can enjoy the game.” 

After a short while Edgar comes back to our sitting area, “Someone wants to know why the sword is snubbing his authority.”

Greg takes a long look at Edgar.  “Tell him, the sword is independent of all authority and will be tending to matters with or without the Protectorate’s input. I will hear his thoughts and act as I see fit. I'm not his to order around. You can add fuck off if you like.”

Edgar sighs and smiles at Greg. “I may not
wish to quote you verbatim, but I will pass along the gist of your message to him. It is best if we all work together, you know.”

Greg leans back in his chair
, “I seem to work with others just fine.”

Edgar leaves us. 

“You just had to poke the badger,” I say shaking my head.

Greg, still smiling leans into me
, “I don’t need to sit around some teleconference nodding my head like some lackey. Neither do you. Let’s see what direction they give us and if it makes sense... okay.”

About
fifteen minutes pass by and we’re joined by Edgar and Percy again.  “Someone was not happy with Gregory” Edgar shares with a large grin on his face.

“We have direc
tion for you both and our guild mates too,” chimes in Percy.

Edgar explains to Greg that he has been asked to go to Boston, in anticipation of an attack on the seat of the Catholic Church. “Too predictable
,” is Greg’s response, which brings a knowing nod from Edgar. 

“Fine, I’ll go,
” Greg concedes following a few moments of silence.

“Arthur
,” Percy follows up, “The Protectorate wants you and your group to go to Nashville to check on the use of a credit card that was held by Znuul.”

“For the love of God!”
cries out Gregg, half laughing. “Credit card, after this time?  Let’s just call a trap a trap.”

I hadn’t even thought about it until Greg spelled it out that way.  It does seem suspect.

“Hey trap identified is much less of a trap,” I respond. “We could learn something.”

Greg looks over to his silent partners.  “Kejii and Yosuke you are with Arthur.”  They look at him and ask him if he’s sure.  He nods back to them.  “I’ll be fine.  Arthur’s walking into who knows what.”  They look at each other and Kejii speaks up. “One of us goes with him… the other with you.”

“Fine,” is Greg’s response. “Spare a soldier from your ranks Edgar?” he continues, looking over to our rotund friend Edgar.

“I can spare a hat for our friend
,” Edgar says with a wink. “Might even be able to get you a Paladin too.”

That I doubt after the gym escapade.  But all the same, I accept whatever help is granted me.
I’ll see if the Pallys allow themselves to be seen consorting with demon types.

Somehow
, I doubt that very seriously.

At least I didn’t have to take this flight alone.  In addition to an invisible Pffif, Yosuke and Paul Sparks of the Techno
Guild are with me. The Paladins had other things to attend to. We fly commercial to Nashville.  Yosuke is the silent type.  Paul on the other hand, likes the sound of his own voice.  But he seems a nice enough kid and is not coming off as self centered or arrogant.

I just don’t think he gets out a lot.
 

Paul bant
ers on about seeing The Opry, Country Music Hall of Fame and other sites.  He must think we’re on vacation. Yosuke just seems disgusted. Through my true sight spell I see invisible Pffif mocking Paul’s continual “yap yap yap.”

After we land we pick up our rental SUV and head to the hotel to pick up our thing
s.  The kind of things we’ll need wouldn't exactly make it through airport security screening, so they were shipped to us in advance to our fine accommodations at the Super 9 motel near the airport. After checking in, we arm up and the team is summoned one by one.

Yosuke seems intrigued by the summoning of my group and for that matter my group itself, keeping a sideways eye on us as he arms himself with
an assortment of knives, stars, spikes, small explosive balls, guns, and other things I have no idea about. After arming himself, he stands and addresses all of us.

“We are not to forget, this is most likely a trap
. We approach with most caution.  We take time and do not rush. When time comes to look into dangerous places – I will be the one that looks ahead for the group.”

“I be thinkin…
not,” Pffiferil says stepping through between Sil and Vets. “Ima the sneaky one here and besides… if’n I get caught and killed, Master Arthur can be bringin’ me back. Can’s ye say the same?”

That
response gets a nod of acknowledgement from Yosuke and a brief reply to Pffif, “I will not be caught.”  There is a pause in the room, which is broken by Pffif who tells Yosuke, “Ima not gonna fight ye for the right to die first, lad. Just thought to be doin’ ye a favor.”

We review the
mission.  The card was used at Bendex Real Estate.  Given that firm has been long established, we doubt the trap lies there.  Most likely it lies at the property leased for $43,204.   So, Bendex is the first stop.

We pile into the SUV and make our way to Bendex. Yosuke and I under the guise of Interpol agents armed with credit card transaction data and fake ID’s
, go inside to find out what we can.  After being stonewalled, Yosuke is ready to leave. I call out the office manager and advise her that unless they cooperate their accounts will be frozen and their business subject to epic IRS audits.

Of course
the office manager tells me to bring it on.  So we leave and I do. It’s nice to be affiliated with the Techno-Mage Guild, they can do things so quickly.  I ask Edgar to let me know when they’ve frozen all their accounts.  Five minutes later he calls to let me know it is done.

Yosuke and I head back upstairs
.  I ask to speak to the office manager lady.  She storms into the lobby telling me she will call the police for harassment.  I look at her with the dispassionate look I give Sil and tell her that the police may be helpful in collecting their records for the IRS audits.  Then I tell her to check the status of all the business accounts.

It’s amazing how quickly people’
s attitudes can change, Ms. Queen of the office now seems to want be helpful.  We find out a very large gentleman rented the basement and first floor of a vacant building at 400 Fourth Avenue South for the next six months, pre-paid.  She knows nothing of his name other than “Mr. Z” and that he works for a corporation called M-Collections.

Well if that ain’t obvious enough to those of us in the know.

After leaving I make the call to Edgar to release the accounts and apprise him of what we learned. His advice: it’s a trap.  He asks if we need more man-power.  I tell him “no.”  We’ll scout the building and be smart.

It’s all I can think to do. After all, nothing
’s probably there but a trap.

The building is older and thankfully, we were given keys to enter.  The building apparently
has been vacant for some time and without any income coming from it, the lease wasn’t questioned. We approach the main entrance and unlock the door with anticipation.

We
enter the main atrium area and look down the hall to a bank of empty offices.  Hjuul leans against my leg, feeling a little trepidation and unease.

Me too.

We go through the first level room by room and find little to be concerned of.   There are vacant offices with nothing to even indicate anyone has been there. The dust is thick an undisturbed. We head down the hall where the restrooms are located and find our evidence of activity.

Now I start to sweat.
The exit door has been secured. Welded shut is more like it - and recently.  Nothing says don’t use this more than metal girders welded to the frame and the door.

Yosuke looks at the door and turns to us, “Must be basement access, it makes no sense to leave the front and rear accessible.”

We agree with his assessment.  He adds that since the sign says “exit” there may be access from outside. So we head back outside and around the side of the building down the alley way. Sure enough there’s a door there.  I stop the group with a quiet, “wait.”

Yosuke and Paul look at me and understand my concern immediately.  The alley way is a choke point
. There are two dumpsters that would be good cover for an ambush. We have been led here. All signs point to bad.

I instruct everyone to look away from Pffif.  He knows what to do.  Invisible now, he scouts ahead to the dumpsters.  There is a clanging as the lid to one of the dumpsters flies open.  Then the other.  Pffif is now visible standing in front of the dumpsters.  “It be clear!” he
sings out.

Yosuke is not as confident.  His eyes look up and around at the buildings surrounding us. I step over to him and he whispers
, “We are being watched.” He turns back towards the door in the alley way.  “From atop the building, behind.”

"
Are you sure about that Yosuke" I ask him.

"I am
not completely sure, but felt eyes upon us for a moment," he replies.

  That’s still enough to have me on edge. 

"Maybe I should stand watch outside," Paul suggests. 

We all think that’s a good idea.

The group approaches the door and there is no sign of welding or it being secured by anything other than its lock.  Again, we have the key.  We open the door and are greeted by musty odors. Yosuke takes the point. From the landing there is the welded door in front of us and a stairways to the side going down.  Hjuul sniffs the air and whines lightly. Yosuke nods to Hjuul and whispers, “wait here” to the rest of us. 

H
e heads down into the blackness of the stairwell.

I get out my flashlight and my .45.  Everyone else arms themselves too.
Vets, sword in hand pushes her way through the limited space to stand in front of us. Shey follows behind Vets, her deadly bow in hand.  We all wait pensively for Yosuke’s report.

Then we get his report, in the form of a blood curdling scream.

Vets and Shey tear off down the stairs.  Flashlight on, I follow – though with a bit more caution. I see Shey at the bottom of the stairs bow in hand firing a steady thrum of arrows at something.  Arix pushes through to the front of our group.

A furry black figure throws itself at Shey, knocking her back into the wall.  She screams in pain as it begins to wail away on her
with its black furry arms.

Arix says
, “Stand back, this is easily dealt with using fire.”  He begins gesturing for a spell and I step back up two stairs.   He proceeds towards the creature pounding on Shey rounding past the wall. Before he can get the spell off, several other furry things crash upon him, beating him relentlessly. Hjuul tears off into the fray expanding to his normal huge size thanks to a talisman created for him. Sil yells “no!” at him and grabs for his mane.

He barrels into the creatures and I hear him whelp in pain.
Despite the outcry of pain, Hjuul is swinging paws and knocking down all the creatures in his path, that is, until he snaps a bite at one of them.  The damage he did was immense, but he stops dead in his tracks coughing, spitting and whining.  The creatures swarm over him, with clubbing blows.

I unload my .45 into the fray -w
hich gets the attention of one of the creatures.  It gets up in a herky jerky fashion, turns around and begins shambling quickly to the stairs. I am pushed to the side as Sil steps forward, transforming into her regular demoness self.

“Run!” she screams,
as she whips out both of her 9mm’s. The creature stops, flails its arms to the side and its chest expands.  It exhales a blackish mist.  Sil’s wings thrum forward and push the mist back into the room.  Both her guns explode in rapid fire succession.

“Get out of here!  They’re infectious
!”

I feel a tug on the back of my pants and realize its Pffif, urging me to listen to Sil’s warning.  Sil has waded
full on into the creatures, pushing them back and raking at them with her own formidable claws.

The word “infectious” clicks in and I
bolt up the stairs.  I feel one of my team return to the white.  Then another. We reach the top of the stairs and fling the door open to see the bloody shredded remains of Paul.  Somehow out of the corner of my eye I see a man with a flamethrower step out from the side of the dumpster.  The nozzle points our way and I jump back into the stairwell and slam the door closed, feeling the rush of heat against the metal of the door.

Trapped.  Death to
the left of me and death to the right.

We hear the wet wheezing sounds of whatever those things are, beginning their shamble up the stairs.
  That’s followed by the sound of an explosion from outside, that shakes the door.

“Ye try to make a break for it
,” Pffif shouts - “I’ll try to hold em back.”

I shine my flashlight over to see one of the creatures approach
ing the stair landing.  Quicker than I would have thought and with an athletic grace I could have never imagined, Pffif jumps midway up the wall, pushes himself off it to the side wall and kicks off slamming into the creature’s chest causing it to tumble backwards down the stairs, hopefully taking other ones with them for the ride.

I feel another of my party fall. 

I grab a quick loader, dump the shells from my .45, and reload.  Taking a deep breath I slam into the door and come out shooting.

In
front of me is a small inferno. Based on what I can tell this inferno used to be flame thrower man.  I make note of the black Lincoln parked to the side of the second dumpster and slam the door to the basement shut.  I see a man poke out from behind the second dumpster with some kind of hand held cannon. I fire off several rounds as fast as I can to keep him off balance. The cannon fires. I dive and go as flat as I can, the pavement biting into me.  Luckily, his aim is off due to my shots and I see the wave of devastation cast against the side of the building.

Paul never stood a chance against that thing. 

I scramble to my feet and level my .45 in the shooters general direction, squeeze the trigger and hear a terrible sound. 

“Click”

The shooter hears the “click” too and steps around the dumpster with a very satisfied grin on his face. He hoists the cannon up.  I jerk back instinctively and his head explodes in a gory spray. The windshield of the car spider webs and the passenger window shatters.  His limp body falls backward on the hood and the cannon to the ground.

I know what’s coming next.
Sniper or not, I sprint over to the door, sliding for a moment in Paul’s blood to slam it shut. I look around for something to jamb the door with.  There’s a very large shadow shrinking before me.

I look up
and see the source of the shadow – a pair of large dark wings are expanding as the body they belong to hits the ground less than ten feet of me.  I feel pounding on the door behind me.  I see the being in front of me stand, almost like it’s uncoiling. I look into the red rattlesnake eyes of Ahtsag Znuul.

Once
again I have death facing me in all directions.