THE ANOINTED 3: PROPHECIES OF FIRE (9 page)

ITALY-UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

As the receding patches of sunlight vanished, day gave way to the moment when the day hung on the point of the coming darkness. Around a rocky swirling road came a tall thick wagon pulled by a big oxen and its holds filled with sacks of white fleeced wool. It entered the circular old cobbled stone court yard and the man who sat upon it pulled the reins sharply, causing the oxen to stop with an angry snort and ruff shakes of its head.

The man squinted in the failing light and studied the fountain that stood in the middle of the courtyard, with a chipped angel who was missing one of its wings, before taking in the emptiness. No people were strolling the courtyard and it seemed as if the whole village was abandoned, but he knew that this was not the case. This was not an uncommon sight for a small mountain side village. In the world of Facebook and Twitter, many villagers still lived the simple life that their ancestors had for centuries. And they were really suspicious of any strangers and outsiders. Tradition was too embedded in the generations, change simply did not touch here.

The man jumped down from his perch on the wagon and stretched his limbs. He had been cramped on the wagon for what seemed like hours and it felt good to move around. He could feel the eyes on him as he went over to an oval shaped door and rap on it loudly. The sharp noise seemed to echo around the village courtyard. When there was no answer, he rapped again with a little more force.

“Where are your manners?” came a voice strong with curses in Italian. “Can honest hard working people eat supper in peace?”

The words ended as the door was swung open and a short squat man peered out with a scowl underneath his black bushy mustache.

“Yes?”

“I’m here with the order of wool for the village mill sir, my boss said it had to be here before nightfall. Where would you like me to put it?”

The short man leaned out the door and inspected the wagon before looking back at the younger man who towered over him.

“Wait here, I’ll go get my no good lazy sons to help with the unloading.”

“My thanks sir, it’s been a long rough ride. Almost broke a wheel twice.”

The short man nodded, knowing the mountain roads were rocky and treacherous. It took great skill to navigate them.

“What’s your name?”

“Verdi, Antonio Verdi.”

The man’s scowl relaxed a little as he released the double barreled saw-off to his wife, who was hidden behind the door. If the wagon driver did not know the proper code words, he would be dead right now.

“I know your father Benito well,” he replied and turned and gave a sharp whistle. Quickly, four thick compacted youths appeared and went to the wagon and started to unload the open sacks of wool. The courtyard went from shadows to pitch black as night had arrived. Soon, all five workers became six as a shadow detached itself from the back of the wagon to carry a sack of wool into the house before stripping off the workman clothes and given a black robe by the short owner of the house. The stranger nodded in thanks.

The stranger had never been here but he knew the lay out as if he had thousands of times and he went deeper into the house passed the same wooden table that the family had been eating supper at until the disturbance. The owner’s wife was now back over the cooling food and she ignored the robe figure as he passed and went deeper still.

Reaching a thick wall, he took off the hand sized crucifix with a ruby in its middle from around his neck and placed it in a slot at its base. The wall rumbled as it began to move and he retrieved the crucifix and put it back around his neck. When the wall finished, it revealed a metal/iron door. The robe figure knocked twice and waited patiently.

“Docendo, Discimus,” (we learn by teaching) a voice said from the other side in Latin.

“Ab Uno Disce Omnes,” (From one learn to know all) the robe figure replied.

“Fas Est Et Ab Hoste Doceri.” (It is right to learn even from an enemy)

“Ab Majorem Dei Gloriam.” (To the greater glory of god)

There was a pause before the heavy sound of a key could be heard being inserted into a lock. It squeaked as the heavy iron-bound door opened on rusty hinges. This man held a lantern and stood aside to allow entry.

“Greetings your highness, I hope your trip here has been…adequate?”

The robed figure passed him, shrugging as he went. The heavy door was push shut and relocked behind him.

“It was as adequate as can be expected due to the circumstances, brother.”

There was no need to elaborate on what circumstances that were stated because everyone inside their inner circle knew that they were fully and unquestionably at war. As a precaution, all movement of the core inner circle would be done covertly until all danger and Vae Victis destroyed, there could not afford to be any more lapses in security. One of them had already been murdered, no more could be lost. The man known as the doorkeeper turned with a short nod of understanding to light the way.

“Of course, of course your highness. Dark times are among the righteous that speaks of the end of days.”

“You, of all people, know that this was expected brother, Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum.” (If you wish peace, prepare for war)

The tunnel they traveled took them from the house and deep into the bowels of the mountain. The Vatican had many such secret places hidden throughout the world, but for now, they chose to stay near their powerbase and that was Rome. They haven’t used this particular place for over a century but they all thought each of the core inner circles was targeted for assassination. And without them, it would take the church decades to rebuild and recover. In one blow, it would cripple everything that had been achieved and put into place before the true war came.

When the impostor is dead, the Roman Catholic Church would lead the righteous in the battle against the father of lies and be victorious. They walked on in silence, as both men wrestled with their own thoughts. After about one hundred yards, they came to the mouth of an opening that led into a vast chamber that could not be measured. Looking up, the walls of the mountains disappeared into the darkness and the sounds of bats could be clearly heard, the flaps of their wings floating down to them.

From the opening, a wide stone bridge led to a circular center and three more came from other directions, and the man seen that it was shaped in a crucifix like the one he wore around his neck. As they traveled across the bridge they were on, the doorkeeper explained that all the bridges were possible escape measures, if the mountain was ever attacked, which made sense. He couldn’t help but look over the side of the bridge into the gap darkness that mirrored above. He wondered how someone could build something so complex and vast but he knew that the Vatican was resourceful, if anything. Hundreds of candelabras made most of the chamber luminous.

Waiting for them were a circle of high stone chairs that represented the power, might, and the humble wisdom of their order. Only three men occupied three of the five chairs and the elder felt a momentary sadness that one of the seats would not be taken tonight, and he offered up a prayer for the soul that was surely being embraced by the heavens themselves while the angels smiled. After taking his seat, his guide and official doorkeeper bowed to the circle before turning back the way they came and soon vanished from sight.

“Brothers, our circle is complete,” declared their chairmen who was bald with tiny dark botches from an ongoing skin disease. His face was well wrinkled with cheeks that drooped a bit, given him an old Saint Bernard look. He was also the oldest member at seventy-nine and the only one wearing the scarlet robe with white crucifixes on a black scarf that was draped around his neck. Painfully, he got to his feet with the aid of a cane, but his eyes were clear and glowing in the light of the many candelabras that were spread around the chamber.

“Even with the loss of one of our own, the church moves on undulantingly against enemies seen and unseen as some have finally shown their blackened souls. Under the eyes of heaven, our order is blessed and accepted by all that are righteous.”

He sat back down with an audible sigh of relief, it was well known that his body ached and was frail.

“It is my understanding that our message has been sent and received?” asked the elder to the chairman’s right. He was the newly promoted Cardinal of the church.

“Not as of yet, but our senior field officer assured me that it would be in the next twenty-four hours,” replied the elder who just arrived. With the death of the Cardinal, it fell to him to resume the covert duties of the circle’s spymaster. His official rank was archbishop, but his position as an elder made him much more than a rank. It made him one of the leaders of the most powerful institution the world has ever known.

“Good, good. We had been discussing options before you arrived and we’re leaning towards re-activating protocol-nine. Do you have any views on this matter?” asked the new Cardinal.

The archbishop’s blood ran cold at the words. Before he had been promoted, he used to work inside the Vatican’s secret archives. There were records in there that were restrictive to all by the elders and the director, which he was at the time. One of the secret histories he had read was that of protocol-nine. His mind traveled back to those histories now.

Protocol-nine had started off as put together warriors discarded from other nations other than Christiandom lands for the purpose of terror and their relentlessness before the start of the Christian Crusade of the eleventh century. The church was adamant about the converting of these warriors from faraway lands and it was given reluctantly. In the fields, these warriors became legendary for their bloodlust and savageness that most of the church’s armies bristled at dealing with. With the turn of the thirteenth century, even the knights of Templar deemed them too dangerous and banished them from the war efforts.

“I wasn’t entirely sure that protocol-nine was a viable option. From the archives, it was written that it was disbanded by the church centuries ago.”

“He doesn’t know,” stated another archbishop from the left side of the chairman. “He may not have been briefed on the elder’s archives yet,” he finished.

These words caused the first archbishop to frown as they sunk in.

“Elder’s archives? Am I missing something here?” he finally asked, after the ensuring silence before glancing at the elder, who wielded the most power the chairman himself.

The chairman stared back with unreadable eyes before waving away his concern.

“You only been with us for eight years now brother, and there hasn’t been enough time to reveal to you all the secrets of the church, so it’s not that anything was withheld intentionally.” The chairman took a deep breath and the archbishop thought that he had finished but the chairman continued.

“There are always two versions of the histories written, one for the secret archives and another for the elder’s archives, which omits nothing. Too many cannot be trusted with some of the things that the church may have to do. Protocol-nine was never disbanded as the histories told you, true they were gathered and ultimately disassociated publicly as their deeds came to light, which were not new to the church’s leader, but their allies were appalled at the stories of the armies. They screamed for justice but those in charge knew that real war was operated on a different level than the moral principles of the right or wrong. The message of the church at the time was done by fire and sword, not morals and words. So protocol-nine was buried and forgotten over time by history, but never by the chairman of this order and over the centuries, they were spread out over the world to train, breed, and wait until they were needed by us once again. We even took in unwanted orphans around the world to infuse younger blood into their ranks and until this day they thrive and wait.”

The archbishop knew that the chairman told the truth but still, that couldn’t excuse the atrocities that protocol-nine had done. Rape, torture, mutilation, and even cannibalism. The list was endless and all in the name of god.

“Do we want to unleash them on the world again?” asked the archbishop. He was really worried that once protocol-nine was resurrected, they would be very difficult to control. It was like the mythological story of Pandora’s Box. Would this bring all the woes and evils that would plague mankind? It was the Cardinal who answered.

“We’re facing an unspeakable evil that would cast our world into darkness brother. Our priests are being murdered and left like trash on the side of the street as we learned yesterday. Besides our VSO, we don’t have the necessary personnel to take the fight to the Vae Victis and it is clear that we have to. Our priests can only defend themselves but so far against demons planning our destruction. What would you have us do if that is unsatisfactory?”

The archbishop had no answer, so he kept silent.

“Sometimes to combat evil, the righteous must use that evil against itself,” said the chairman before looking at each one of them in turn. “Choices are always hard for those that walk with god’s blessing.”

“May god forgive us,” the archbishop whispered knowing that a plague was about to be unleashed.

CHAPTER THREE

Kimiko silently stalked her prey through the very trees that she used for concealment. As their branches swayed with the wind, she paused for a moment and used her experience to listen for unnatural sounds that would alert her that the enemy was near. After a long minute, she started to move, once again satisfied that her position was not yet compromised. In her hands were her RES that looked like solid golden bars, the blades were not extended for fear that the enemy would spot the sun’s reflective light off of their razor sharp blades.

But this didn’t make them any less ready. Suddenly, movement in front of her caused her to freeze one foot just inches from the ground. Thick bushes rustled noisily and she knew all pretense of stealth was lost. The enemy had found them. With a press of a button, her RES separated with ease as their blades broke free.

She took her fighting stance knowing that it wouldn’t be long until they were engaged. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Daniels move and she moved a blade in his path, halting his movement. He nodded as she raised the blade. They both knew that in a fight, as with war, the advantage went to those with the most patience.

The big man had done the near impossible by recovering mostly from the armor transplantation operation that was done on him. Her one-time liege lord had overseen his healing and said that it was the armor that had healed him so quickly. Her failure to him still tasted like bile inside her mouth as she thought about him, but he had elected to give her a chance to restore her honor and she would use it to be his avenging blades or die in the attempt. Either way, her family’s name and face would be restored. It was everyone’s job to make sure Daniels went through the physical therapy to get use to what his armor could do in real combat situations. For it would be foolish to send him untrained (like a baby bird not being able to use its wings) out into the field against dangerous monsters. His hope of surviving wouldn’t be good and with what the sect was entrusting him with, that couldn’t be allowed to happen.

Returning her concentrating on the woods around them, she noticed that the birds had stop chirping to each other. Never a good sign when you were fighting in wooded areas. Two barbed tip arrows came whistling through the air one after the other, almost giving her no time to react. Twisting into the air more gracefully than any Cirque Du Soleil performer, the arrows passed inches under her.

“A small child could’ve defended against such a pathetic attempt!” she yelled out in a challenging tone.

Silence met her words as if they figured out she was trying to provoke them into a premature action. There was an unexpected explosion and she turned just in time to see Daniels fly off his feet and into a tree sideways. Angrily, he got to his feet making the sir around him turn a muted yellow as his force field shield went up.

Black snake scaled metal armor flowed quickly through his pores and over his body. The armor went up to his neck and he brought his infrared/thermal imaging technology online as an enhanced colored lens came up to cover his right eye. His computer system went through an identifying sequence before locking on to the image of a man concealed in the branches of the tress above.

Channeling the energy of his core, he released a fusion type shock blast that took out half of the top of the tree setting it aflame. The shock blast was more vicious than he intended and he watched as the man leaped from the tree and rolled to the ground. He could still feel the core power surging through him as his computer locked in on the man again. Nathan materialized out of thin air behind him and quickly placed a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around and throwing the second shock blast wide.

It was hard to keep the look of surprise off his face. The first attack had been a diversion. Nathan wore the sect’s more traditional armor that only covered his chest but Thomas knew it could do some spectacular things, as it had just shown. He also knew that Nathan’s armor was tied into Vae Victis’ supercomputer, instead of the on board systems that he had.

“Invisibility technology, I’m impress. My armor doesn’t have that.”

Nathan wore thick bracers around his forearms and two swords blades slid from them with a distinctive clear ringing.

“Your shield only works to ward off a frontal attack. But it’s only electronic and can be vulnerable and disarmed. Data support, magnetic pulse charge blast online.”

Thomas’ computer systems turned statically before his electronic shield wavered then winked out.

“No need for advantages here.”

Kimiko took a step forward and raised her RES blades in challenge.

“I would be honored to have your steel cross with mines, possession leader.”

“No Kimiko, “Thomas said gently. “This must be a test between us. Me against the possession leader. Armor versus armor.”

“Do not worry Kimiko, your hands will be full enough. If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you shall receive,” said Nathan, gesturing to the male figure that came into view and Thomas could see that this was the man in the trees, and he also now had two huge battle axes strapped upon his back. Thomas was a big man, 6’4, two hundred forty-six pounds to be exact, but this man was even bigger and it seemed unfair that tiny Kimiko should go against such a giant. But Kimiko showed no fear as she studied her foe.

“I just hope he’s not a disappointment,” she said, looking at the crossbow he carried. She recognized the weapon immediately since Masaaki Sawatatsish was its designer. She had trained with the weapon many times herself. Its outer shell consisted of a light interchangeable metal that transformed in the user’s weapon of choice by sensitive controls of voice recognition. It could be a very dangerous weapon in skilled hands.

“If his fighting skills are as bad as his archery skills, then I believe I will have more than enough time left over to flash my blades with you.”

Without warning, Thomas released another shock blast at Nathan who crossed his blades in the form of an X in front of himself, taking the blast directly in its center, the impact pushing him back in a trail of dirt. It was an amazing sight. Kimiko ran and used the truck of a tree as a stepping stone, leaping into the air with her RES blades raised high.

“Quarterstaff!” the man shouted in a booming voice, swinging the crossbow upwards as it transformed in his hands with surprising speed. As the RES blades descended, the force of the newly formed quarterstaff stopped their momentum with an explosion of sparks. Kimiko countered by doing a backwards flip, kicking the quarterstaff out of his hands and into the air before landing with the skill of a gymnast.

But the man moved with a speed uncanny to his size, kicking her squarely in her chest and driving the breath from her lungs. The move allowed him to catch the quarterstaff and attack. Kimiko, still a little winded, retreated a couple of steps from the viciousness of the attack, bringing up her RES blades to parry the probing thrusts. The metal that made up both weapons where built to be indestructible in the war against Pallida Mors and they continued to give off blue sparks as they met.

Sweeping the quarterstaff low, he hooked Kimiko’s heel, taking her off her feet to land hard on her back. As soon as she was able, she rolled, knowing an attack was coming and she was rewarded as two arrows embedded themselves into the spot she had just occupied. The man changed the weapon back to the crossbow setting and was shooting arrows at her pointblank. Coming to her feet, she instinctively swung her RES blades deflecting two more arrows, even as a third landed in the tree beside her head.

It quivered as she turned to look at it in surprise. An inch to the left and it would’ve impaled her to the tree through her right eye. The man was a better fighter than she had previously thought. Furious at her underestimating, she twirled one of the RES blades in her hand and threw it with blinding speed as the man fired off two more arrows.

Kimiko had only a Nano second to react by bending her body over in a bridge, barely dodging the arrows. Straightened back up, she saw that the RES blade had sliced opened the man’s cheek as it went pass, the blood leaked down his cheek in a trail of reddish streaks. The anger that he’d been wounded was clearly in his eyes.

“Device disengage,” he said, making the crossbow fold in on itself until only a flat piece of metal remained. Pocketing it, he slowly backed up, never once taking his eyes from hers and turned to take the RES blade from the tree behind him. He admired the blade and swung it skillfully, testing its weight.

“A RES device is crafted and molded only for one person’s hand. For someone else to use it is almost impossible,” Kimiko stated, watching him.

“Well, it looks as if I can so--,”

The rest of the words came out in a sharp intake of breath and he dropped the blade like it was red hot to the touch. Kimiko knew that the hilt had sent a very powerful electronic shock through his hand and along his spine to his brain. Reaching behind him with both hands, he gripped both axe handles and pulled them free with an animal like growl.

“It’s for the best I suppose,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to humble you with your own weapon as I thought to do.”

He kicked the blade back across the ground to her.

“An act of charity. This is personal now, blood has been drawn.”

“Agreed. Now let’s see how good you are with these oversized weapons of yours.”

Picking up her second RES blade, she rushed to attack once more. When the axes and blades met, there were even greater sprays of sparks.

*****

Nathan and Thomas had not been idle.

Nathan was, at the moment, fighting off an attack in which Thomas was using his enhance strength. Huge thick trees made loud protesting replies as they snapped and broke while being unearthed to be used as massive clubs. Nathan wisely dove out of the way as a large trunk slammed into the ground where he had been standing, the force of the impact shattered it with surprising ease into shards of fire wood.

“Why don’t you stand still for this conversation?” Thomas grunted out, as he easily resifted what remained of his jagged makeshift club. Nathan was on the balls of his feet waiting, his eyes on the big man.

“Yeah, I’ll do that as soon as you quit using nature for your anger issues.”

Thomas reversed his grip to swing the splintered tree like a baseball bat, but this time Nathan didn’t move as he used his blades to carve massive lengths from the truck, making it fall short of its target. Before Thomas could react, Nathan was moving towards him, retracting his blades as he closed the gap. Thomas swung the second trunk hoping to pin him in between the two, but Nathan was not where he was supposed to be.

Nathan did an acrobatic frontwards flip over the swing club and put Thomas at an awkward angle. He had no choice but to drop the trucks to defend himself. Nathan was already inside his guard, however, and executed a skillful leg sweep that took Thomas’ legs out from under him. Scrambling back to his feet, Thomas only made it as far as his knees before the unmistakable sound of steel rung out and Nathan’s blade was at his throat.

“Just remember rookie, I had more practice with my abilities than you.”

Thomas nodded curtly, barely able to move his head. He swore that he felt like he was back in basic training before he had become a SEAL years ago. Seeing that the message had been received, Nathan removed the blade and retracted it back in his bracer and offered Thomas a hand to get back to his feet. Thomas’ armor retreated back into his pores. Nathan looked over at Kimiko and the guard of Gabriel he had inserted into the mode, locked into a heated clash.

“Okay folks, that’s enough for today,” he said in a clear loud voice. It wasn’t really surprising that the clash of the weapons did not ease one bit. “I said, that’s enough!”

“Looks like your daddy saved you this day, little girl. The next time I won’t be so nice or accommodating,” the guard of Gabriel whispered through clench teeth.

“Anytime, anyplace big boy. I already given you a souvenir to carry in remembrance,” replied Kimiko heatedly.

“Computer, end simulation. Run diagnosis for study.”

The guard of Gabriel, the forest, and sky vanished at Nathan’s words. They found themselves in a blue squared room with white trim around each square. This was a powerful generating grid where Vae Victis ran their simulation training in, but the threats and dangers could be as real or if not realer than a foe and was built and designed with such intent.

“You do know he was only a projection, don’t you Kimiko?”

Kimiko look ticked off that her foe had disappeared back into the circuits of the computer.

“I really, really loathe that man, possession leader,” she replied, pushing the buttons to retract her RES blades. “It’s probably why you brought him.”

“Master your anger or it will master you.”

Kimiko looked coolly at him at the quote. “It seems that the possession leader has been reading Stephen King again.”

“Wisdom comes from all forms of creative work, Kimiko. I find nuggets in most things.” His face turned serious. “I need you to get back to the fight Kimiko. With these attacks and ambushes by the Vatican and Anais, I need you to organize the guards to counter these or at least slow them down. I would prefer that you eliminate them all together, but we’re fighting on two fronts now and we’ll need a small miracle to hold the lines.”