Redemption (The Alliance Series Book 1) (2 page)

              I opened the bag I had loaded up before the centaur attacked and began checking my "survival gear", making sure we hadn’t left anything behind.

              Amidst the two AR-15’s, there was a large assortment of lethal and non-lethal items. Some hand grenades, a couple of smoke and concussion grenades, my belt which resembled an old west bandolier that housed the crystals I had been slowly acquiring, a few knives, two compact .357s and other odds and ends.

              The bandolier was one of my greater achievements. The crystals I had bought from the dwarven miner were naturally able to store vast amounts of energy, but with the use of runes I supercharged them allowing them to store even greater amounts of energy. I used a dwarven made crystal scribe to actually hand carve the particular runes that allow for greater energy storage. Cost me a bundle, but it was worth it. It takes an enormous amount of energy to set off the kind of destruction I usually did. I can naturally manipulate energy to do a ton of damage but sometimes a guy’s got to have backup. You never know when you have to take out a particularly dangerous cave troll. Their hide is tough as nails. The bandolier allowed me a large energy reservoir to pull from when I needed an extra boost.

Runes are symbols of power. There is no specific alphabet or particular order to them. They are different for each magic user and have to be created from insight and intuition. Each rune is unique and like snowflakes, no two are alike. It's tricky to get them right. Runes are infused with magic to give them their power. The magic user’s intent when making the rune is the most important aspect in their creation. They represent the will of the wizard, what the magic user wants to happen and the magic they have imbued within the rune. They can be made to do any number of things, but the skill needed to perfect complicated runes that do complex things takes years of learning and self-control.

              At the moment we were driving in a cute little Dodge Neon. It was a four cylinder, had a busted stereo and went from zero to sixty in five days. Beggars can’t be choosers I guess.

              Nathan stole the car after our daring escape from debriefing, where our C.O. tried to kill us.

              He has anger issues, not to mention the fact that Nathan and I had disobeyed a direct order.

              Sometimes you have to not listen to the man who wants you to murder innocent women and children and take a stand.

              We did.

              Now we’re on the run from God knows what.

              The Recall or Eliminate Division has some serious heavy hitters, wizards who can throw around some nasty spells or summon ferocious demons to hunt us down.

              We knew they were on our trail so we were heading East. Where we hoped to get in touch with the only man I trusted in the agency. Lt. Col. West, a decorated Marine made of steel and grit. He was the man who took me from the rat hole I was living in when I was five and trained me to be a Special Forces wizard.

              He was something of an enigma. He trained men to kill for their country but also taught me the lesson that magic was a force and its power was based on the content of the man’s character. 

              Nathan, a dark skinned descendant of the Cherokee tribe, was tall. He had the long raven black hair that is associated with Native Americans but he didn't like to wear it down. It could be easy for some clawed monstrosity to grab during a fight, so he kept it tucked away in an elaborate braid that I haven’t yet figured out how he did. He was also lean, not skinny, but taut muscled. He always reminded me of a spring ready to be uncoiled. His particular talent was self-centered. Meaning, he derived his abilities from his own chi, or mana. It was uniquely powerful, but required a lot of carbs and protein. I used the same source but when I was tapped out I got physically tired quickly, hence my bandolier. Every magic user is different, their styles are different and how they are affected by using magic is different.

              This is due to many aspects. A main one is the cultural beliefs in which they learned their craft. Their bloodline is important also. It’s as if magic acts in line with specific D.N.A. Nathan’s ancestors used magic to create rain, manipulating their environment to allow them protection while hunting the buffalo. He uses the same abilities only applies them differently. Good news for me. He has kept me alive more times than I can count. It also explains why wizards have different specialties and effects when using magic.

Chapter 3

"Hell of a way to start the morning." I mumbled as I tried to get comfortable.

              I have a hard time with small cars. I’m no giant or anything but I’ve never been considered small. At 6'2" with dirty blond hair and ice blue eyes I have more in common with the God of Thunder than a brooding wizard type.

              I tried to get my seat to recline and slide backwards but I think something may have broken during our morning adventure.

              "Centaur?" asked Nathan. "The Sarge must have really been pissed off for him to send in a hard case like that."

              "I have a way with people." I responded. "Although, I wouldn't have expected them to send a centaur after us, one with orders to kill. If he was sent by the P.S.F. protocol would be to bring us in until further investigations could be completed."

              "Unless the Sarge reported that we were compromised and targeted for termination." Nathan said.

              My head hurt. There was no way of knowing right now. Something wasn’t right though. I had no way to be sure, but it felt wrong. It’s not unheard of for the Agency to call in a centaur for a job. It just didn’t feel right. Centaurs usually took on jobs in order to settle some debt or to restore honor for themselves. I have seen cases where some bad guy deceives a centaur, who then feels honor bound to right this wrong. I haven’t tricked any centaurs or had any dealings with them. As far as I know I have steered clear of the attentions of centaurs. Seeing one trying to decapitate me was a shock. Something was going on, something I couldn’t put my finger on right now. The best thing I could do was regroup, get some rest and try to clear my head.

I leaned back in my chair, intent on getting a little rest. I can throw a lot of lightning around with small problems, but snatching up a few tons of pavement and making a centaur ramp, on the fly, takes a lot out of a guy.

              "You know I would go with you anywhere. We've been through too much together. I just have to know what you think the likelihood is of us getting to D.C., getting in touch with the Col., of him actually being able to help and getting out alive again is?"

              "On a scale of one to ten? One being dead meat, ten being home scott free?" I asked.

              "Yeah, whadya think?" Nathan looked at me sideways while still keeping his concentration on the road. We switched a few miles back in anticipation of me needing some rest.

              "Oh, I'd say honestly, point oh five." I grumbled.

              "So, you're saying we at least have a chance." He said.

              "You know you don't have to go with me. If you wanna bail I'd understand. I mean this is a whole lot bigger than sneaking out of our barracks during training and hitting the bars." I looked at him with a small smile and said.

              "You could always go back to being the second in line for shaman gig."

Nathan smiled back, “I just don't see myself dancing all day for rain, you know?"              

"Besides, who would keep your skinny ass from getting skewered by six feet of centaur sword?"

              "So, you really think we can trust the Col.?" Nathan asked changing subjects.

              "I know you don't trust him like I do, but the guy took me in and raised me like a son." I answered.

"He taught me everything I know about magic. I trust him."

              "He also taught you how to kill people without a second thought." Nathan pressed.

              I looked at him with irritation, drawing lower in my seat. I tried to ignore the wind that assaulted me as it came in from the broken windows.

              Nathan shrugged his shoulders non-apologetically, "I'm just saying."

              Once I closed my eyes the past events that led me to be in this beat up Neon, with no windows, kept playing out in my head like a broken record.

              I kept seeing faces of men, twisted faces of pain and anguish. Faces of the targets I was supposed to eliminate, a mother and daughter of Asian descent. Dark raven black hair, so black it looked blue. Scared, with desperation in their eyes looking at me with fear and hope...

Chapter 4

The hatch slammed shut. Everything is louder in a ship.

              I guess that wouldn't be accurate, it wasn't a ship so much as an aircraft carrier. Describing it as a ship just doesn't do it justice. The U.S.S. Enterprise, the pride of the Navy, a massive aircraft carrier with the latest in air defense on board. She carried the F-22 Raptor, capable of vertical takeoff and stealth attacks, the AH-64 Apache Longbow, capable of low level sneak attacks and enough firepower to level a small city, not to mention a few top secret aircraft. The ones that no one sees or hears but claims to have spotted them hovering over a city street, you know, the black helicopters.

              Yes, they exist and they are pretty cool.

              Turning the lock to ensure the hatch was secured, Chief Anderson, a short man with hairy arms and a bushy mustache, nodded to Nathan.

              Nathan got up, went to the door and made a few quick motions with his fingers and said something under his breath that I couldn’t quite hear. Nathan’s magic is more complicated than mine. He uses words and hand motions to help formulate his spells. The ones that were more delicate or complicated used more focus. He has, working with me, had to learn to create shields quickly and often and has gotten those down without the use of added focusing techniques. Creating a sound dampening field is more complex.

              My ears popped, like they do when you go up in altitude.

              I knew his sound proofing had worked. No one could hear us outside of this room and no sound could pass from inside the room to outside by means of a bug or listening device. Magic doesn’t ruin electronics unless it’s directed for that purpose but it can, when engineered properly; disrupt the effectiveness of a listening device if it's meant to.              

              Nathan meant to.

              "All set." Nathan said, sitting down in front of me in the briefing room.

              Chief Anderson nodded and said. "All right gentlemen, you know the drill."              

"Standard operation objective, we have Intel reports that a South Asian green dragon and her hatchling have infiltrated the highest levels of the North Korean hierarchy and are goading Kim Jong into attacking South Korea."

              "We have confirmed reports of nuclear testing underground with positive detonation of a low level warhead."

              "Kim is attempting to build a long range missile capable of reaching Honolulu and maybe San Francisco."

              "We have tracked the movements of the dragons and have followed them to a house in San Francisco’s China town. We believe they are here in order to get finalized weapons guidance systems. We don't know who their suppliers are and hope this operation may shed some light on that."

              "We are under orders to infiltrate the dragon’s home, gather Intel and then dispose of the targets or vice versa, with extreme prejudice."

              "Remember, the greens love acid. It can eat through three inches of steel in under eight seconds, nasty stuff. Make it quick and clean, come home in one piece. Any further questions about tactical arrangements or personnel please direct to Sgt. Brookes here. Thank you and God speed."

              Nathan turned around to me and said, "Green dragon? You up for a lizard hunt?"

              Dragons are a nasty bunch. Sure, there may be an exception to the rule, a dragon that is nice and just wants to live in peace. I haven't met one. To be fair I have only come into contact with one other dragon, a European red. He was in human form and had established a large trading firm that was involved in the shady banking deals that caused a huge problem for economies worldwide. He walked away making billions. I'm still hoping I can settle that particular score.

              "I could use a new pair of boots." I said. Nathan smiled and relaxed back into his seat.