From Filth & Mud (34 page)

The Osprey flew through a murky soup of weather for an hour before the Manhattan skyline was visible. Jacob sat in the co-pilot’s seat while the pilot flew under duress. Doug held his large .45 caliber pistol steady against the back of the pilot’s head. Tim sat in the cargo hold of the large tilt-rotor craft, preparing two ropes for Doug and Jacob.
There wasn’t much to this plan
, Jacob thought. Their entry would have to be dynamic. He was counting on John to keep Sarah and the boys safe. His business was with Eckert.

The Osprey meandered in the city skyline around the towering edifices. Its reflection in the glass panes was distorted by the driving rain. Jacob ordered the pilot to fly lower, and Doug forced the issue. The pilot grudgingly obeyed, and the craft descended deeper into the cavernous cityscape where more steel-girded columns reached up like threatening stalagmites ready to impale them at any slip of concentration or loss of nerve. The BioSyn tower stood just another mile south, and the pilot began to tilt the rotors into an uneasy hover. The craft climbed vertically against an adjacent tower and crested its peak directly in front of the BioSyn tower’s landing pad.

Tim ran up to the cockpit to cover the pilot while Doug and Jacob prepared for their descent out of the rear ramp. Jacob grabbed the guide rope with his gloved hands and began his hasty descent. He’d no sooner left the ramp than a volley of gunfire erupted from Eckert’s office. The pilot pulled quickly away from the gunfire, sending the tale of the hovering craft into a tight spin. Jacob tried to hold himself against the overwhelming centripetal force, but was hurled clear of the rope and the path of the Osprey. He crashed against one of the tower’s ventilation fans, which abruptly stopped his momentum toward the edge of the building just three feet away. Dazed, he focused on the tracers that were streaming from the office. They lashed out at the Osprey now, circling about five hundred feet overhead. Curiously the Osprey did not return fire, and then he saw why.

From his vantage point he could see Doug’s large figure hanging by one arm over the side of the Osprey’s rear ramp. He was struggling to reach his other arm over the top of the ramp’s lip. A few BioSyn security guards ran out from Eckert’s office and onto the elevated platform of the landing pad where they opened fire, taking dead aim at Doug. Jacob leveled his rifle and hammered a steady beat of accurate, suppressive fire, knocking down one of the men, instantly dead, and forcing the others to take cover. He looked back to the circling Osprey and saw that Doug had made it safely onto the ramp, but his rifle’s momentary pause was answered with a hail of bullets that zipped by his head and tore through the sheet metal of the ventilation fan. He dove behind a second ventilation fan as the first was ripped apart by the barrage. Two of his attackers were suddenly felled by Tim, who had now brought his rifle to bear.

The odds now somewhat evened, Jacob took a moment to compose himself before reengaging the guards. From what he could see, there were only three guards left, and they had their heads down in terror of the sniper who had just dispatched two of their number in quick succession. He took the opportunity to dart across the roof to another ventilation fan in an attempt to flank the trio. A bright streak and roaring swoosh suddenly leapt skyward, the unmistakable signature of an RPG. Its deafening effect was instantaneous. Jacob lost his balance and crashed headlong into the ventilation fan, spinning around in time to see the Osprey heave against a low, billowing cloud then slowly list and bank into a death spiral. Smoke poured out of the ramp where Doug had stood seconds before, and the craft careened toward an adjacent rooftop where it crashed heavily. Bits of propeller blades flung back across the expanse between the two towers and sheared everything in their path, including the three guards who had stood to celebrate the downed Osprey.

Jacob doubted that his friends had survived. He was now seriously outnumbered and outgunned, a point that was driven home by the ensuing onslaught. He took a quick inventory and realized that he only had a few rounds left in his rifle and eight in his thigh-holstered pistol. He wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, and his attackers seemed to know it because they slowed their fire; now it was accurate and taunting. He popped out from behind the fan and dispatched on of the guards with two short bursts from his rifle before the bolt locked back over its empty magazine. Reinforcements streamed through Eckert’s office and out onto the roof. Jacob recognized their familiar black fatigues and the XPS insignia emblazoned on their shoulder patches. They were John’s men, and they joined the BioSyn guards in a phalanx. The line of men drew down on him and opened fire once again.

Jacob emptied his pistol as he dove for cover.
It would be over soon,
he thought as he sat against the riddled fan, but then a deafening silence interrupted the cacophony of the night. There, just above the ringing in his ears, he heard Eckert’s voice.

“Come out, Jacob! It’s over! I promise that my men will not open fire.”

Jacob sat quietly until Eckert called for him a second time.

“She belongs to me, Jacob! Not you or anyone else. She’s no good to you without my people. I promise that I’ll give your son the treatment.”

Jacob moved away from his position and roared back: “Monte-Alban told me that Lilith is a weapon. That’s what you want, nothing more! There’s no cure, at least not one that you want.”

Eckert’s face contorted above a magnificent grin, and in that fleeting moment, Jacob understood his adversary. There was no reasoning with him. He lusted for power. He didn’t care if the Chinese, or anyone else, got their hands on Lilith. He just wanted Lilith to be unleashed on the world. He would extort the highest price for her sale and watch from his throne atop the BioSyn tower as the world’s powers battled for her.

“I knew that it would end like this, Jacob. I cherish the battle.” Eckert stripped off his jacket and calmly cast it aside. “Your redemption is through me,” he spoke as he climbed onto the landing pad and stood in the middle of the X-centered ring. “Join me, Jacob!” he pleaded before extending his arms in a striking messianic pose.

Jacob was out of options. He was unarmed, and Eckert’s men awaited with weapons readied. He cautiously joined Eckert on the landing pad. The wind swept furiously here; its echoing wail leaving no doubt that death was near. John had cautioned him about Eckert’s fighting prowess, but this was not a fight,
this was war
. Eckert was the enemy and in order to vanquish him, Jacob would have to revisit that dark place that had haunted his dreams for the past decade; the dark place where he’d lost himself and his control, seeking vengeance for Mendes’ death.

Jacob gathered himself on one edge of the landing pad and looked around the platform, quickly searching for any weapon that he or Eckert could use. The city lights polluted the night sky with a reddish hue and cast a bloody shadow on the impromptu arena. The moon hid, distant, gray, and faded behind inky clouds. At this height, the sounds of the city were obscured by the wind, which now threatened to knock him over. Eckert stood impervious to its force. With a flick of his hand, Eckert waved his men inside and waited for the office doors to slide shut behind them. The two combatants stood isolated on the blistery pad.

“What do you say we start this endeavor?” Eckert paused momentarily as if awaiting Jacob’s response, but in another instant he sprang into a full sprint toward Jacob.

Jacob whirled around and ran to the office doors. He sensed Eckert gaining with each stride, closing in as he neared the doors, a hair behind him, but Jacob did not slow down. Instead he sprinted faster still until the very moment of impact with the doors. He planted his right foot into the door and spun his body, driving from his foot through his hips and up through his spine. The forceful chain reaction seamlessly transferred through his body like an uncoiling snake as it drove through his shoulder and into the tip of his right elbow, which he drove into Eckert’s nose. It immediately shattered and sprayed blood onto the glass. Jacob attempted to follow up his surprise attack, but Eckert expertly covered his face in a defensive shell, and Jacob’s onslaught was rendered impotent. Eckert parried one of Jacob’s wild haymakers and threw him to the ground with ease.

Jacob was stunned by the suddenness of the technique, but he managed to roll away from Eckert’s stomping heel. He sprang back to his feet, bounding back several times to create space between him and his attacker. Eckert spit a thick wad of blood and pawed at his nose.

“Not bad, Jacob. I didn’t expect that from you. You got first blood.” Eckert smiled through his bloody teeth as he continued to walk Jacob down. “You won’t land another strike. I assure you.” Eckert closed the distance in the blink of an eye and connected with a kick to Jacob’s left leg, which instantly buckled. Eckert stopped to admire his work as Jacob grimaced. Blinding pain drove through the sciatic nerve on the outside of his leg. Eckert connected with a quick jab and then backed off again, toying with his prey. He was light on his feet. His attacks were effortless, artful, and devastating. Jacob continued to give ground, trying to create space between himself and Eckert only to have that space stolen by another crushing kick to his leg. He winced in pain as Eckert’s shin repeatedly dug into the now tenderized meat of his quadriceps. He resisted the urge to buckle to the ground, but just barely. That would be certain death.

“Come on, Jacob! I expected more from you. You are supposed to be a worthy adversary.” Eckert unleashed his leg like a whip and snapped it against both of Jacob’s legs. “How about that, Jacob? You see I am sporting about it. I could very well just keep targeting the one leg until I break your femur, but there would be no fun in that, at least not now, not so soon.”

Jacob rallied and dove headlong into Eckert, attempting to tackle him, but Eckert pivoted immediately and struck Jacob with a fist behind the ear that instantly robbed him of his equilibrium. Jacob windmilled his arms and landed hard on the edge of the landing pad. He clung to the edge as the world spun around him and his eyes drifted in and out of focus. Pushing himself onto his elbows, he attempted to rise to his knees, but his legs refused to respond; meanwhile, Eckert stalked relentlessly. He stood above Jacob and kicked him with a flare of revulsion. Jacob rolled helplessly down onto the roof surface, which dropped over the tower’s edge just a few feet away.

“Pathetic! You disgust me, but mercifully no one will know how you fought here today. You can count on me to tell a good story about you to your two boys. Well the
one
anyway!” Eckert cackled. “What would you like me to tell him, Jacob? That you were a hero or a coward? Maybe I should tell him that you were robbed of everything before I ended your life? And what should I tell him that you died for, that you abandoned him for?” Eckert bent over him and yanked him by the collar up onto his knees then crashed a fist into Jacob’s orbital bone. Jacob fell from the force of the blow. The taste of salty blood oozed into his mouth. Eckert bludgeoned him mercilessly with a quick succession of blows. “Do you know what I admire about you?” Eckert paused his hammering. “It’s that you refuse to give up. Your insolent attitude is quite astonishing, but I’ve broken many men like you. You all die the same way, face up or face down.”

Eckert kicked Jacob’s limp body toward the edge of the thousand-foot drop. The chill wind bit into Jacob’s face and carried away Eckert’s rants. He willed himself to his elbows, and his arms vaguely complied as his executioner steadily approached. Jacob rose to his knees, warm blood streaming down his face, while Eckert stood victoriously in front of him.

“And now for the kill!” Eckert stepped behind Jacob and wrapped one arm across his throat and the other around the back of his neck. The pressure slowly increased and Jacob’s carotid arteries were gradually clamped. “I enjoy feeling the life leave a body. It is truly an intimate experience. Right here, in this moment Jacob,
I
am your angel of death.”

Jacob struggled against the pressure at first, instinctively grabbing at the arm that was crushing his windpipe, and pulling against its murderous grip to no avail. Moment by moment he weakened, his strength sapped, his mind not responding, he flailed desperately at Eckert’s face.

“Let go, Jacob. Let go. It’s okay to let go,” Eckert whispered into his ear.

And then he did. He simply let go, and gave himself to the Leviathan, the one that had haunted the shallows of his subconscious, the one that had called for him since the day he had buried it in the filth and mud that fed the brackish waters of the Shatt Al-Arab. It now rose from its watery grave and emerged in its true form, a human figure, whose reanimated eye stared back at him and judged. But Jacob had no advocate this time, no alibi, no redress, just a plea for mercy, and it was granted. He was forgiven. Jacob was cleansed and ready to receive his soul once again. Jacob nodded to his longtime tormentor and it to him, then closed his eyes and held on tightly to Eckert’s crushing arms. He mustered his remaining energy, dug his heels into the ground, and pushed with all of his might, driving violently to the tower’s edge until he was falling, free.

Eckert screamed and tried to release hisarms, but Jacob held on for death as his tears were lifted from his eyes, offerings to the heavens above. He felt Sarah’s warm embrace around his arms while the boys hugged his wais
t
 
a
as they always did. They would be okay.

Then there was peace.