Rise of the Nephilim (11 page)

The viewing area was one long room divided lengthwise down the center by a wall to effectively make two separate spaces. The side closest to the auditorium sported two tiers with chairs behind glass for spectating, while the side running along the hallway contained a few couches and chairs for lounging. The glass had been shattered by the stage bombing, so its view of the main auditorium made it an ideal sniper’s nest to stop any enemies daring to pass through. Jude and Emily’s attention was drawn away from their new vantage point, however, by a familiar clerical-collared figure relaxing on one of the padded chairs.

“Antonio! I’m so glad to see you’re alive and well,” exclaimed Jude with a sigh of relief as he gave the man a hug.

“I am a resourceful man,” Gallo smirked, as they pulled away from each other. He nodded toward the two guns-for-hire. “Luckily, I met these two
signori,
while I was roaming the halls assisting people.”

Brad gave a large, flourishing bow of over-exaggerated bravado, and Emily gave a false swoon in playful return. Jude admitted it felt good to relax for a bit.

“Were you able to find the Archbishop?” He asked, noting they were without their assigned VIP. Brad shook his head sadly.

Eric spoke, “We found him just outside the doorway of one of the conference rooms. He must have fought to be one of the first people out after the blast, only to be murdered by one of those... things… in the hallway. I remembered seeing these rooms in the schematics and decided this would be a great place to defend our backs and keep our attackers out of the auditorium. It seems like that was the right decision, since it helped us saved you two. We found your friend here tending to the wounded, and he insisted he come with us.”

He paused, as Brad fired his rifle at another gunman fleeing across the top tier of the auditorium from a pursuing Swiss tactical assault team. He saluted the pursuing peacekeepers and signaling his status as a friendly.

Jude sighed, “As much as I didn’t like that man, I never would have wished that on him.”

“This whole thing stinks,” agreed Eric. “Now, can you tell me what the hell is going on here? I think we deserve to know. I saw one of those priests grab a guy and fry him alive, like he had picked up a live wire. The bastard went down easily enough with a head shot, but I’m guessing if he had actually been prepared for me, I might have gotten roasted myself.”

“I guess it’s inevitable at this point,” Emily stated, as she assumed command of the conversation. “Those men you saw outside were what you would call ‘demon possessed’. We had anticipated some kind of resistance from them, but I never thought they would stage an outright attack like this. Especially not as members of the clergy…”

Brad abandoned his post to stare at her in concert with Eric. Both men fought to process what she had just said. Brad was the first to speak.

“If I hadn’t seen what I’d seen today, I would be the first in line to call you crazy. Hell, I’m still not sure I’m going crazy!”

Eric nodded absently while Jude assured Brad, “Believe me, I wish you were. So, what’s the plan now?” We need to get out of here and do some damage control. People are going to be in a panic over this one. I mean, it was on international television, after all. This may have done much more harm than good.”

Emily sat down on one of the chairs. She leaned forward and dejectedly put her pale face into her hands. “I can’t believe how badly this all fell apart. They’ve always kept to the shadows and pulled strings from afar. This is reckless, even for them. Surely this can’t be because I had a hand in this! If those two down there hadn’t mentioned me... It looks like my mission has failed,” she intoned, looking at Jude apologetically.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, my girl,” said Father Gallo in a soothing tone. “The Church had its top people working to make your involvement as secret as possible. It wasn’t too hard, you know. You simply took a holiday to Rome, met one of your favorite authors, fell madly in love, and followed him around the world to support his cause. What I believe we have here is the result of a mole in the Vatican. I’m going to try to procure an audience with the Vicar to discuss it when we get out of here.”

Eric’s radio had been chirping intermittently the whole time they were in the overlook, but now a mix of French and English voices were beginning to steadily bleed through. He grabbed the radio and inserted himself into the conversation.

“This is Eric Strauss of TacShield. I and four others have taken refuge in the southeastern overlook of Room One. We are requesting permission to evacuate. Repeat, we are requesting permission to evac.”

The radio was silent for what seemed like ages before a male voice answered back. “Copy that, Mister Strauss. We are still engaging suspects in the upper floors, but your position should be clear. How can we identify?”

Eric answered, “Four males, one female. One of us is a Catholic priest.”

The man on the radio confirmed, “You are cleared to evacuate. We will be waiting out front.”

“You heard the man,” Eric said, as he reattached his radio to his utility belt. “Now is as good a time as any to get out of here.”

The group gathered their belongings and queued up behind Eric, while Brad established himself as the rear guard. Jude kept close Eric to assist him if they met any resistance. Father Gallo hung back with Brad in the relative safety of the back.

Eric peered outside the room to determine if any danger remained and saw no cause for alarm. The group slowly vacated their temporary refuge, remaining alert for any surprises. The hallway and mezzanine further down were grotesquely quiet amid the bodies littering the floor.

The reality of the attack was finally beginning to sink in for Jude. He felt a mix of nausea and tears welling inside him now that he had the luxury of soaking in the carnage caused by the Nephilim. It had taken an entire police force to subdue, per his own estimate, merely a dozen of them, including a few human fighters. How could they fight against that kind of power?

His thoughts were cut short, when he caught his foot on a something and stumbled to remain upright. He stifled a sharp cry, as he looked down into the blank eyes of a dead monk. He realized with sadness that he had met the man on their journey to Singapore only a few months ago. The look in those glassy orbs begged Jude to tell them why such a horror had fallen upon them. Jude choked back a sob and silently asked for the monk’s forgiveness. He tried to mouth the man’s name in silent memorial, but realized he could not remember it. He was just another anonymous casualty of war, his very existence already transforming into a footnote in the pages of history.

Eric gripped Jude’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze of understanding. He nodded, knowing no words could diminish his reaction to the hellish scene surrounding them. He knew no amount of experience could make it easier. It had taken him years to learn how to partition the emotion of battle from the need to maintain situational awareness. He merely tugged gently on Jude’s shirt sleeve to signal the need to get out of the building. They could do the dead no favors right now.

The small cadre entered the mezzanine without incident and descended the stairs into the main lobby. They hustled past the upended registration tables, barely glancing at the fallen cronies of the Nephilim. The number of fallen policemen and damage done to the surroundings suggested that some of them had been possessed before they were neutralized in the battle for the entrance.

The party picked up speed as they came closer to the entrance of the complex and pocketed their weapons in order to not alarm the peacekeepers outside. A breath of mountain air caressed Jude’s face, reinvigorating his frayed nerves and beckoning him further away from the building. They halted only when an amplified voice ordered them to do so. The group stood in front of a defensive arc of Genevese police, all pointing their weapons in their direction. Jude and the others instinctively raised their hands in surrender.

“Drop your weapons and come forward slowly”, ordered the man behind the megaphone. Jude noted that he must be their erstwhile radio contact. “If you cooperate, you won’t be harmed.”

Jude and Emily cautiously complied, immediately followed by Eric and Brad. Relieved of their arms, the five survivors marched toward the opening gap in the barrier line. A hyper-alert detail of guards met them halfway and led them behind the line toward a black trailer protruding with antennae and satellite dishes. A handful of personnel were inside intently coordinating audio and visual communication between the teams inside the convention center.

A man in a dark gray suit and blue tie, exuding the air of command and carrying an orange megaphone, detached himself from the crowd and made a course to intercept the group. He was giving orders on a Bluetooth headset in a
patois
of mixed French and German unique to the area. He cut off his conversation, as he neared them.

“
Bonjour
,” he greeted them with a thick accent, as he surveyed the bunch. He walked up to Eric and offered his hand, “
Herr
Strauss, I assume? I am Captain Louis Beaulac. I am happy to know you found your way out safely after our conversation. It seems you and your associate are two of the few security personnel to make it out alive. We would like to request you attend an immediate debriefing about what happened inside. The terrorists seem to be using some kind of unidentified energy weapon. My superiors are asking questions I cannot answer.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have many answers myself, Captain,” Eric answered and glanced at Emily, questioning how much she was willing to divulge at present. She gave him a slow shake of her head. “I’m willing to help however I can, though. Is it acceptable if I contact my superiors first? My cell phone is fried.”

“Of course,” the captain told him. “Head to the communications trailer and someone will assist.”

The officer turned to address Jude, Emily, and Gallo. “Do any of you need medical assistance or psychological counseling? We have an aid tent nearby, if so.” All three of the civilians responded in the negative.

Gallo spoke up, “If at all possible, I would like to get back to my hotel. This ordeal has been incredibly exhausting. I also need to make some calls.”

Beaulac nodded and pulled out a small metal box from his back pocket filled with business cards that he passed out to everyone. “Please, get some rest and call my office as soon as you can. We still have much to do here, so we can spare you for now. Be careful, though. We do not know how many of these people remain in Geneva. Do you need protection?”

Gallo protested that they did not. Emily and Jude agreed. When he returned, Eric insisted that he and Brad guide the group back to the hotel before their own debriefing with the Genevese police. The captain consented and, after checking their Swiss concealed carry permits, sent for the two professional soldiers’ pistols. Re-equipped, the party walked down the block back to their hotel.

“I think we should stick to the alley ways”, suggested Gallo. “The captain was right. We don’t know how many Nephilim are in the city. I have no doubt we’ll be targeted if we are seen.”

“You’re right,” said Emily. “I gave away my presence when I used my power. They may not know precisely where I am because of the commotion, but they are probably on high alert. We need to stay inconspicuous.”

Eric and Brad agreed the tactic was sound. They devised a plan to traverse the surrounding parks to minimize possible detection, and slowly make their way back to the hotel. Once the convention center was finally out of sight, Jude could feel himself beginning to unwind from the incident. It seemed everyone else was, as well. Even though they remained in a solemn mood, their posture relaxed and they made some successful attempts at small talk. A small amount of normalcy was finding its way back into their lives.

They left the parks and wandered the smaller service roads inside the city proper. Emily took advantage the spare time to explain the situation in detail to Brad and Eric. They were bewildered at the story, but pledged to do whatever they could to help her and the Grigori repel the Nephilim threat. Jude had begun entertaining them with stories of his travels, when Emily held up her hand for silence.

“I think I sense one of them one up ahead,” she said quietly.

“Stay here,” warned Eric, “I’ll check it out. Brad, you watch our six.”

“I’m coming with you,” insisted Jude. “You may need a second pair of eyes, and I’m tired of feeling like extra weight.”

“Very well,” relented Eric when he saw the resolve in Jude’s eyes. “But be careful and stay behind me.”

Jude nodded, “You don’t have to tell me twice. Beaulac didn’t give my gun back, after all. I won’t get in your way.”

“Be careful,” Emily said, pulling him close and gave him a fierce kiss.

“I will,” assured Jude, as he released her. “Let’s go, Eric.”

The two left the group in a cross alley and crept down the main path. They carefully scanned the street on their approach for anything suspicious. Jude made sure to stay low behind Eric, in case any more gun fire erupted, while Eric kept his hand at the ready on the holster at his hip. They approached the narrow opening between buildings on both sides and carefully searched up and down the street for any sign of the possessed person Emily mentioned. Jude strained his eyes to peer through the bustling crowd of people traversing the sidewalks. He was growing frustrated at the lack of results when Eric released a quick, low whistle for his attention.

He followed Eric’s directed nod in an attempt to discern what the man was seeing. Nothing stood out for a few seconds until his eyes stopped upon a small street-side café. At one of the tables sat a thirty-something blonde woman on a laptop, who was intently staring into the crowd and deconstructing every person that walked by. To the standard passer-by, it might seem as if she was merely waiting on someone, trying to find them in the crowd. Jude felt there was definitely something “off” about her, as he continued to watch her. He was certain she was the Nephilim they were looking for.

Eric crouched down and made his way over to Jude for a chat. “We can get around her, if we cut back and go west a couple of blocks,” he said, keeping an eye on their quarry. “I don’t want to risk her picking us out of the crowd with that freaky sense thing Emily can do.”

“Sounds good,” agreed Jude wholeheartedly. “I’m ready to get the hell out of here.”

He tried to leave, but Eric held him still. “Wait a sec,” he cautioned. “She’s getting up.”

Jude watched the lady stand up and gather her things. She looked up and down the street and began to walk in the direction opposite them. Jude breathed a silent sigh of relief. Suddenly, the lady stopped, turned around, and looked right at them. She smiled at their startled expression and held her hand up in imitation of a pistol. She mimed pulling the trigger and mouthed the word “pow”. He dove to the concrete and heard the distinctive crack of gunfire echoing nearby.