Invisible Dawn Page 9

  He flew through the first, second, and third agent without effect. His helplessness further fueled his fury. Picking up speed, he swept through a multitude of stairs and the last remaining agent. Then, a man he knew from his research stepped out from Daniel’s apartment window. Standing tall and ominous in his long, foreboding trench-coat was the PASTOR operative known as Father Leodenin.

  If anyone deserves a torturous death, it’s this man, thought Jedd as he sped toward Leodenin. His name keeps popping up in everything I find.

  The thought was fleeting, but passionate. Stretching out his arms, he reached for the devil below and bellowed to the gods. As the blood curdling scream reached its peak, his hands clenched into fists of iron and crashed into the false Father’s chest.

  Jedd smiled at the sound of snapping bones. His momentum carried them both into the corroded railing and sheared the bolts in two. As it gave way they tumbled toward the cement alley below. Seconds passed like minutes as Jedd struggled to break every bone in the slender man’s body. His blood surpassed its boiling point and with each strike his hatred became an inferno. He thrust a clenched fist at the long haired man, striking his ribcage and face. He landed blow after blow.

  Leodenin fought back against the unforeseen foe. Grasping at anything he could, he pounded him with knees and fists in an attempt to break free. As the twisted mass of appendages fell to the earth, Jedd’s screams echoed from building to building. Flipping through the air, the long coat engulfed them both in a suffocating grip. It was as though it had a life of its own. The wind roared past, drowning out his war cry. But it did not matter.

  I’LL KILL YOU! KILL … KILL … KILL... Jedd swore. The words swept through his mind amidst the turmoil of his hatred. He was not sure whether he said or thought them but he did not care. This man had to die.

  With each blow he landed on an icy eye or pale cheek, his bloodlust grew. He was awash in a shower of the Father’s blood but his ardent attack was curtailed at the last moment. The paved alleyway loomed over the dark shifter’s shoulder and a split-second of fear pierced Jedd’s focused hatred. It was not a fear of dying, but dread that PASTOR’s prized pupil would escape the punishment he so justly deserved.

  Before diving into the pavement below, Altran pressed his feet into Leodenin’s chest. He smiled maniacally and cherished the thought of the false father dying at his own hands. Then, he propelled the man into the shadowed pavement below.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 9: A Show of Loyalty

  Wednesday, June 21st

  Sacrificing your life for those you care for is easy. Making the ultimate sacrifice for strangers is truly difficult, but it’s the noblest thing a person can do. In the short time I’ve known Daniel, he’s taught me this lesson repeatedly, and I am honored to know him…

  ~Excerpt from the Journal of Madelin Boatweit~

  Marlin and his men cursed under their breath as they filtered into the room. The burst bulb was not a coincidence and the tip off had been just enough for their prey to escape. Whoever she was in league with was trained for just such a situation. He caught a glimpse of the two of them before they disappeared up the fire escape. After scanning the outdated room he followed the escapee with Shanahan hot on his heels.

  Madelin and Daniel flew up the rickety stairwell well ahead of Marlin’s men. To cover the distance the commander took the steps two at a time, rounding each end of the stairs without hesitation. Suddenly a fierce gust of wind blew past, forcing him to the rail and widening the distance between him and his quarry. He vaulted up the last few flights, only to watch them disappear over the roof edge a few yards away. Reaching the small palisade encircling the rooftop, he peered over the ledge with his silenced 9 millimeter at the ready.

  The battle veteran’s worn boot sole disappeared behind a sun-baked chimney protruding from the tarred roof top. Marlin fired a warning shot into the exposed bricks before leaping the low wall in a catlike motion. Without a second thought, Shanahan followed his lead, propelling himself over the ledge and onto the black tar.

  With nowhere to hide they spread out and surrounded the chimney. The sun had heated the black roof, melting the tar, and their shoes were soon mired. They were forced to break free of the gooey muck with each step. A sickening sound followed them, like pulling apart liquid Velcro.

  Shanahan was not deterred but Marlin reconsidered their current approach. A rooftop restricted the two fugitives’ movements but it was like trapping a wild animal. With no place to go and nothing to lose, they would fight back to their last breath. Inches away, the ledge was an ominous reminder that he was locked in a cage with the enraged beast.

  This isn’t the best way to recover the patient, thought Marlin, a little too late. Considering the consequences, it might be better not to return at all, especially if we kill the woman.

  Daniel ducked further into the aged chimney’s shadow as the gunshot rang out. Chips of brick and dried mortar flew into his face. Reaching behind him, he reassured himself that Madelin still remained hidden.

  “If I can take care of these two, we might have a chance. When I say so, make a break for the roof over there,” Daniel whispered, nodded to the building across from them.

  The details of his plan became clear when Madelin looked at the five-foot gap between buildings. Her cool composure fractured at the thought of leaping from one rooftop to the next. The demise of her one tie to a family she no longer remembered flashed before her eyes. Echoes of her godfather’s hate-filled screams ricocheted through her mind. She quivered at the thought. Fear took hold and her new shoes shuffled backward as though capable of depositing her into the very pores of the bricked chimney. Daniel seized her wrist and she froze in place. Teetering at the edge of the shadow, his solid hold helped to subdue her panic.

  “It’s okay. I’ll help you,” he said, but her reaction made the futility of the plan quite clear. Her head shook back and forth while her eyes remained locked on the small chasm. For a moment Daniel contemplated throwing her across himself, but dismissed the idea after considering the consequence of a simple mistake. His plan crumbled at the thought.

  If she isn’t willing, I’ll have to find another way. There has to be something I can do … God, I need a drink.

  Driving the thought away, he focused on the problem and searched the rooftop for an answer. Another gunshot reminded him of the immediate threat encroaching on their position. With nothing coming to mind, he shifted his back to the edge of the brick wall. Holding his Glock 19 poised, he chanced a look around the corner. The light haired agent unloaded another shot at his exposed face and Daniel ducked back behind the brick wall. The sounds of their approaching boots resounded through the air, prompting him to action.

  “Well if you want me, then you got me,” Daniel muttered under his breath. Keeping the jutting chimney between him and the two men, he side stepped a few more inches, still holding Madelin away from the visible sides.

  “They’re trying to surround us, and more are coming up the stairs. It’ll be checkmate if we don’t act now,” he told Madelin. After a slight pause and a deep calming breath, he continued. “You stay here.” All of his emotions fled with his decision to act, leaving his voice stern and vacant.

  Before the last words left his lips, Daniel released the magazine into his hand, checked the bullets, and hammered it back in with his palm. The clip clicked metallically, signaling the weapon’s thirst for blood. Madelin looked back at him in astonishment as his plan dawned on her.

  Daniel ignored the look. Resting his forehead on the cold metal barrel, he took a few measured breaths, then strode around the shattered brick corner. His gun’s muzzle sighted the two black clad men on instinct.

  The beast Marlin feared emerged from the shadows with eyes of stone. Rays of sunlight glinted off a handful of polished chrome. The gun spat once … twice … three times at Shanahan. The agent spun under the gunfire. As a bullet caught his shoulder, he was tossed off the rooftop. Daniel continued his
march toward the Marlin without missing a step.

  He shifted targets and leveled the Glock on the commander as his pistol hungered for more. Daniel pulled the trigger again but was blindsided by an agent surging across the rooftop. The impact knocked him off balance and the shot went wide.

  The man tried to grapple him to the ground. Using the melting roof’s added stability, Daniel resisted the onslaught and twisted out of the man’s fingers. His shirt trailed in the wind as he landed on one knee. His metallic friend settled on the older agent’s midsection, ready for another chance at blood. Marlin’s unwavering black pistol returned the death stare. A calm serenity settled on Daniel’s shoulders and he pulled the hair trigger before rolling out of reach.

  The split-second response of Marlin’s firearm missed Daniel, instead eating through his shirt as it trailed after him. The pistol swept over the rooftop carrying out the commander’s wishes. The bullets dove into the apartment building, inches away from Daniel’s tumbling figure. Flipping back onto a knee, Daniel’s finger tensed to unleash another lethal shot when a fourth man leapt over the parapet and bulldozed him from behind. The collision hurled him face first into the tarred roof. Marlin seized the chance, kicked the gun away, and stomped on his hand with a boot heel.

  Madelin’s sole protector fought back with an elbow to his new assailant’s chin. Breaking loose from the man’s iron grip, Daniel surged into Marlin. The commander’s black pistol quenched its blood thirst, licking at the veteran’s side. Unaware of the pain, his momentum carried him upward. His clenched fist smashed into the commander’s chin with the force of a charging bull. Marlin flew backward and his knees buckled. Daniel turned to confront the two new aggressors as they regained their footing on the windy rooftop.

  His adrenaline soared through the clouds and he neglected the blood lapping at his soaked undershirt. His loose button-up billowed around him as though straining to reach the other men.

  Standing unarmed, Daniel tensed and braced for the charge. The soles of his combat boots sunk into the inch-thick tar beneath him. He shifted his weight and dug the ball of his foot into the ground as he prepared to pounce. The air was charged as the three men glared at one another. Each waited for a signal, an opportunity to gain the upper hand.

  “You ready to die?” asked Daniel viciously.

  “You’re the one that’s gunna die today,” shouted the larger of the two agents. “Ready to meet your maker?”

  “I’ve been ready,” Daniel growled back. “Here’s to spilled blood.”

  Madelin’s fear flared back to life. Curbing the growing uneasiness in her stomach, she braced herself against the wall. Gunfire buffeted her ears but it was over before she could summon the courage to emerge from her hiding spot. Fearing the worst, she edged over to the corner and peered out at the isolated rooftop.

  The chaos that had erupted milliseconds before slowed to a crawl. The agent that followed them collapsed at a blow from Daniel’s fist. It was as though the agent’s body were attempting to mold itself to the torrid rooftop. Three men stood stock still, perched at the edge of tumultuous air currents.

  The calm before the storm ended as swiftly as it began. Daniel bolted toward one man, flecks of tar flying from his shoes. He lowered his head and tore over the rooftop faster than she thought possible. The two PASTOR agents appeared out of their element. One reached for his gun, but was not quick enough. Surprise blossomed on his face as Daniel bounded toward him. The other operative attempted his own charge but was slow to leave the gate. Each step was delayed by the tar’s insufferable grip. Seeing his error, he reached for his gun as an afterthought.

  Daniel’s target was a trim operative without an ounce of fat on him. He had no sooner caressed the handle of his pistol before Daniel tackled him low, pinning the man’s arms to his side. Rising up, Daniel lifted the sandy haired man from the roof. The wounded veteran’s arms slipped lower, encircling the agent’s knees like a wrestler. He grinned at what was to come.

  The agent struck at Daniel’s face with his freed hand, but the veteran’s grin was immovable. Shifting his weight, he spun in place like a top. Gravity pulled the agent’s torso away and his knees bent under the centrifugal pressure, lowering him into the wind like an airplane propeller.

  As Madelin watched in anticipation, the hulking man standing between them leveled his gun on Daniel’s head. Without thinking, she launched herself out of the shadows. After crossing half the distance, she leapt into the air and her feet slammed into the man’s back just as he pulled the trigger. The impact hurled him forward, arms flailing and face exposed as the shot missed Daniel and tore into the miniature brick wall.

  Seeing his chance, Daniel sent his captive into horizontal flight, propelling him into the unsteady operative like a trebuchet hurling a bolder. The momentum of the collision powered both agents over the ledge. A series of metallic crashes echoed from the alleyway as the more fortunate of the two landed on the shaky stairwell. The sudden shock forced the top flights to collapse and trap him in place. The one unlucky enough to have missed the jutting stairwell screamed in horror, flailing his arms as though he might find salvation. Seconds later, a heavy thump granted him eternal silence.

  Daniel flipped back around, ready for more, but found the last man lying unconscious. Seeing no further threat, the throbbing pulse of adrenaline drained from his ears. Madelin stood up from the scorching black tar and wiped her hands free of clinging globs. Daniel turned to her with an air of compassion, thankful that she had come away unharmed.

  “Thank you, Daniel.” Her voice was sincere and she spoke with a kindness he had never known.

  He was about to reply when a shooting pain rippled through his stomach. Daniel fell to his knees and clutched his side. A wet substance oozed through his fingers. Memory of the viper bite from the commander’s gun flashed through his mind. His hand came away coated in red.

  There’s too much blood, thought the veteran. He placed his hand back over the wound. How much time do I have?

  Madelin watched in dismay, helpless as a baby lamb. A whispered, “My God!” escaped her lips as she knelt next to him. She placed a hand over his in an attempt to stall the bleeding. “We’ll get help. I promise.”

  Her words were like a soothing balm but the peace was short lived. Voices echoed across the rooftop from the main stairwell. Pounding blows rang out as they discovered the locked door. Summoning his courage, Daniel pushed aside the pain and rose to his feet. He waved Madelin away and prepared himself for another onslaught.

  I can’t believe I made it through that last meeting, he thought. But it ain’t over. There’s more to do and still time enough to salvage something of my life.

  “It’s okay … I’ll be okay.” Daniel lied, taking a few ragged breaths. “Hurry, we’ve gotta get out of here.”

  Glancing down the fire escape, they watched the PASTOR agent attempting to extricate himself from the crumpled mass of metal. His efforts looked futile. The other agent lay sprawled at the bottom of the alleyway, death having claimed him.

  Daniel ran through a list of escape plans, counting each one with a finger as circumstances ruled them out, one after another. Within seconds, each finger on his free hand was extended and he could think of nothing else. Accepting the final verdict and the sentence that had been passed, he pointed a blood-soaked hand at the shadowed chimney.

  “Get over there. I’ll take care of this.” His voice was firm and distant.

  She obeyed without complaint, which Daniel appreciated, but he could not shut out the worry welling up in her eyes. He knew the disappointment and fear she would feel after this was over.

  I wish I could stop it, keep her from feeling abandoned. It isn’t her fault. She didn’t choose for this to happen. Those bastards just keep coming, and they ain’t after me. What the hell is with them? he wondered. Why do they want her so bad?

  Silence answered his questions.

  I hope I can last long enough to take some of them with me, he
thought, grinding his teeth. Maybe she’ll have a chance if I whittle down their numbers.

  He could feel his life draining onto his shirt. He applied more pressure and felt the flow diminish. His mind whirled with fatigue.

  I wasn’t able to do as much as I’d hoped, thought Daniel, but maybe it’ll be enough.

  As the world around him changed, the memory forced him back into one of many nighttime horrors. The doorway to a small mud hut was blockaded with clothes and wood scavenged by mercenaries.

  Did I help pile those against the door? The answer that echoed through his mind shamed him further.

  He tried to stop his hand from pushing the torch into the thatch roof, but the past could not be altered. He shoved the flaming branch deeper and it illuminated the children within. They stared at him from the dancing shadows, the whites of their eyes pleading for him to stop. The smell of dust and sewage interwove itself with the burning stench of the house, flooding his nostrils as the flames grew. The voices of children, mothers, the elderly, and all that were left in the village cried out in terror. Their sounds mingled with the now roaring flames.

  How many did they stuff into that small cottage?

  He had no idea. He had not counted at the time but with each memory it seemed that more eyes stared out at him. He felt as though all the innocents of the world were burning for the sins of those like him. The nauseating odor of cooking flesh swept through him, cutting off his air and threatening to strangle him.

  Opening his eyes, the rooftop reeled around Daniel’s waterlogged gaze. The sights and sounds of the PASTOR agents breaking down the door reminded him of the job he had to do. Taking a few deep breaths, Daniel urged his legs to work and forced himself over to the unconscious commander. Once there, his knees thudded to the ground. Daniel leaned down and picked up the metallic 9 millimeter, the closest thing he ever had to a friend, and stashed it under his belt. He ignored the warmth from the smoking barrel that seeped through his clothes. Sliding closer to the grey-haired operative, he pried the black pistol from his hand and contemplated ending the man’s tyranny that very moment. The gun wavered, its barrel mere inches from the man’s tar-splotched hair.