The Betrayed Series: Ultimate Omnibus Collection With EXCLUSIVE Post-Shiva Short Story (159 page)

Vakasa tripped, so Rebecca picked her up as they ventured deeper and deeper under the temple. A stone tumbled down from above. Brandt swung around, flashing his light, trying to see if they were being followed. Did an errant footstep dislodge the rock or was it simply the nearly nonstop trembling of the earth?

He waited, holding his breath. No one emerged. No shots were fired. No grenades tossed.

Brandt did pick up the pace, though. If the Disciples didn’t get to them, these tunnels were apt to collapse if shaken much more. Finally, they arrived at a door. A single door with only a lotus blossom etched into its surface.

Rebecca moved out of the way so he could enter first. Even if they were entering the Holy of Holies, they still needed protocol. This door was heavier than the rest. He had to put his arm into it. Then it budged, opening into a large chamber.

Shining his light, they were nearly blinded by the reflection.

Brandt thought he’d been impressed back at the temple. He had been wrong.

CHAPTER 29

══════════════════

Temple of the Her Holiness

10:45 p.m. (IST)

Rebecca spun in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. Resplendent didn’t even come close to this most Holy of Holies. Forget gold. Solomon had brought out the big guns here. The walls were lined with every precious gem you could think of. Gold filigree wove around the dazzling jewels.

And the statues? The entire chamber was filled with rows upon rows of them. Every ancient god was represented. Anubus, their old friend Moloch, Diana, and so many more. Each faced east. Each knelt down on one knee. Each faced a carving that seemed fashioned out of one enormous piece of onyx. They all bowed before the Black Madonna.

Only, she didn’t seem a Madonna at all. The statue before them appeared to be just a beautiful African woman with a babe in her arms. Not just any babe, though, but one with rows of braids just like Vakasa.

“Don’t let her—” Brandt yelled.

However, it was too late, as Vakasa had rushed forward and hugged one leg of the statue. It was the only thing her tiny arms could encircle.

“Momma.”

Rebecca braced for whatever happened next. The roof to split open. The floor to cave in. Anything. Seconds ticked by, nothing happened. If anything, the earth beneath their feet seemed to quiet. The constant quaking died down to silence.

“Maybe it’s because she is home,” Rebecca suggested.

“Or she isn’t the Messiah, after all,” Brandt countered, although his features didn’t seem as hardened as they usually did. If anything, he seemed simply relieved. As did Rebecca. If Vakasa really wasn’t the Messiah, then her chances of having a normal life exponentially increased.

“Of more practical concern,” Brandt stated, “I don’t see another exit.”

Unfortunately, neither did Rebecca.

* * *

As the Tabernacle burned to the ground, Levont held up the C4 block. “Well?”

Davidson paced it off again. But without blueprints for the temple, how could he know for sure? He turned around and counted his steps again, trying to get a more thorough understanding of the underground temple.

“Things have quieted down,” Lopez remarked. “We could just wait.”

Davidson glanced over his shoulder with a look that, even with his damaged lips, should have said,
Really?

“If we place it wrong…” Levont didn’t seem to want to finish the statement. Who did? They could only begin to imagine how unstable the ground beneath them was. An inaccurately placed charge could bring the whole hillside down on Brandt’s head.

They had to gamble, though. They had to think proactively. Maybe if the Disciples weren’t down there with them, they could wait. But with that she-cat down there, along with the priest? They had to make a move.

Davidson indicated to the easternmost slope. “At the least, let’s set the charges so we are ready.”

“For what?” Lopez asked.

“Who the hell knows?”

* * *

“They are on the wrong side,” Stark said, pointing to the screen. “They are going to blow the wrong spot.”

Bunny tried the sat phone again. Nothing. She checked the ground-penetrating radar readout. The largest, most elaborate chamber was due west of them. Worse, if they took out that corner of the temple…Bunny was no architect, but a house of cards was more stable.

“Think,” she said aloud as if everyone in the room, with the exception of Prenner, wasn’t already. “We’ve got to get them a signal.”

“Out in the middle of nowhere,” Stark complained, cracking his knuckles. The nearly forty-eight hours straight hacking was beginning to take its toll on the young man.

“Hold on,” Bunny said, her mind racing. “What if we dumped the satellite? I mean, dropped that puppy out of the sky.”

Stark’s brow creased with confusion. “I mean, sure we could, but why…?”

His mother, though, smiled. “I like the way this girl thinks. You need to find a girl like her.”

As Stark blushed a thousand shades of crimson, Bunny asked, “The satellite is in ultra-low orbit, right?” Stark nodded. “So it is right over their heads, and if we force it into the atmosphere…”

Clearly, Stark began to get it. “It would light up even that ash-filled sky.”

“They will have to know something was up.”

Stark nodded. “I’m on it.”

“No,” a voice said from behind them. “I don’t think you are.”

The CIA operative still pointed one gun at Prenner but the other at Stark. “God will decide what happens.”

“Emily?”

“I am not thinking of just our lives,” the woman said. “I am thinking of the global clu-taster-fuck that will happen if that child emerges from the temple.” Emily nodded to Bunny. “You of all should understand. You know of her potential, yet you said nothing, why?”

Bunny shook her head. “All’s I did was keep my mouth shut. I didn’t actively endanger my friends. A little girl, Emily. Doesn’t that cross around your neck mean anything to you?”

“It means everything,” she said, fingering the crucifix. “Which is why we are going to simply watch and see what happens.”

How Bunny wanted to just strike out and pimp-slap the CIA operative, but Prenner gave the slightest shake to his head.

Didn’t the lieutenant know? Patience was
not
Bunny’s virtue.

* * *

Brandt cocked his head. “Did you hear that?” he asked Rebecca as she and Vakasa made their way around the statue.

“Did you
feel
that?” Rebecca countered as she rejoined him.

She was right. A distant rumbling vibrated through his boots. It felt like thunder that began on the horizon, then powered toward you. That was not the immediate concern, though. The immediate concern was the door to the chamber opening and a grenade sailing through the air.

That was the concern.

“Get down!” Brandt shouted, knowing that it probably wouldn’t make a difference. When the thing landed, it just spewed smoke, though. The Disciples must have been trying to keep the structural damage to a minimum. Good for them.

“Get Vakasa behind the statue,” Brandt whispered, urging Rebecca away from the center of the room. Pulling up his shirt to protect his lungs, Brandt slunk forward, keeping a statue of Anubis between him and the door.

Through the chamber’s haze, Brandt saw the flash of a muzzle as a gunman braved the smoke. He held his fire, though. The Disciples had too many men with them. Brandt had to wait to make his stand count. More than one must have made their way through the series of doors. Sure enough, another stepped into the chamber.

Behind him was the girl, Monnie, Brandt thought her name was. She appeared unarmed. Before the group got much farther, Brandt braced his bad shoulder against Anubis and fired, hitting the first gunman in the gut. He winged the second gunman. Monnie darted deeper into the temple as another figure entered. Brandt had the bead on him but pulled up short.

A priest. Why did it have to be a priest?

* * *

The chamber shook as smoke churned. Gunfire pinged off a statue. Rebecca held Vakasa tight to her. The air cleared as a form approached. It was too short to be Brandt. Should she call out for him, or would that only draw the danger closer?

Instead of the monstrous Frellan, a lithe, young woman emerged. With her smooth skin and emerald eyes, she should have seemed nonthreatening. That was not the case.

“You know who I am?” the woman asked.

Rebecca had no clue, except for the fact that religious megalomaniacs usually gave themselves away. They wanted you to know who they were. Rebecca could piece together the rest. A female Disciple. The only one to find the Holy of Holies. Rebecca could venture a pretty damned good guess.

“The Master?”

The woman’s lips spread into a smile. “So you know that you must give the child over to me.”

Rebecca knew no such thing. However, she did note that the Master had a knife and Rebecca was weaponless. Underfoot, the floor gave out as steam rose from the earth. Scrambling back, Rebecca avoided falling into a huge crack in the ground. Would it be enough to keep the Master back?

Unfortunately, the Master had that wild look in her eye. The one that religious zealots got just before they did something really crazy.

“God shall guide me,” the woman said, rushing toward the gap, easily clearing it.

Perfect time for him to take sides
, Rebecca thought.

The woman slashed with a knife, narrowly missing her arm. Rebecca pushed Vakasa out of the way. The Master cut upward. Rebecca barely danced out of the way in time. She’d gotten lucky.

But how many more of those could she evade?

* * *

Brandt finally took down the guy he’d winged, but the priest was in the wind. Or more accurately, in the smoke. A scream rang through the chamber. Turning, Brandt was too worried about Rebecca and ran smack into the rod that the priest wielded. Reeling backward, blood coursing down his forehead, Brandt brought up his gun.

Again, that damned black robe and white collar made him hesitate just a split second too long as the staff arced up again, coming down on Brandt’s shoulder. That was completely unnecessary.

Brandt brought his gun around to bear, but the damned priest used the butt of the stick to hammer his obliques.

As he doubled over, the priest smiled. “I didn’t think that wound had completely healed.”

Oh, game on
.

Brandt didn’t bother rising from his position, he just ran at the guy like a linebacker. The priest apparently didn’t play many sports in seminary school. He tried to dart to the left, but Brandt was all over that. Tackling the priest around the waist, Brandt slammed the man into a statue of Moloch.

He might not be able to shoot a man of the cloth. But knock the wind out of him? That Brandt could do.

* * *

Rebecca dodged to the side. God love Brandt. He’d tried to teach her hand-to-hand combat. Every time they practiced, though, they usually ended up in bed. It was not a very productive teaching environment. As the knife swept sideways, nearly slicing her open, Rebecca really, really, really wished she’d paid more attention.

Watch the attacker’s shoulder
, she could hear Brandt demand.

It was a little hard when that shoulder moved all over the place, smoke blocked her vision, and steam from the earth’s interior made it hard to breathe. There it was, though. Before the woman even made the swipe, Rebecca jumped to the side, avoiding the sharp end of the blade. She was sure Brandt could have maneuvered a way to disarm the Master, but hey, Rebecca would take not being gutted as a win.

Distract your opponent
, her memory of Brandt reminded her.

She had never quite gotten that one down. How could you distract your opponent without distracting yourself. But she had to try, as another blow had nearly landed.

“Is this what your God wants?” Rebecca asked.

“
My God has wiped out many nations. Devastating their fortress walls and towers
.”

“Zephaniah Three:Six,” Rebecca said, identifying the passage.

A flicker passed over the Master’s face. Surprise? Doubt that another could know the Bible as well as she? Whatever it was, it transformed into anger pretty damned quickly.

The woman charged, a war cry on her lips. But it was a ruse. Her shoulder wasn’t committed. Rebecca held her ground, ready to leap in the opposite direction once that shoulder told her which way to go.

Rebecca should have gotten away cleanly, except for the condensation on the floor. Her foot gave out, and she fell into the attack. The stabbing didn’t hurt as much as Rebecca would have imagined.

Still, she couldn’t help but scream.

* * *

A pained cry filled the air. Brandt pushed the priest back, but the guy just would not give up. And Brandt really needed him to get over it. Rebecca needed him.

“You will have to kill me.” The priest sneered.

Could he? Could he kill a priest, even if he was one evil son of a bitch? Brandt raised his gun, a prayer on his lips, when a plume of lava jetted through one of the fissures on the floor, dousing the priest in molten flame.

The man flailed, spraying himself further with liquid heat.

Brandt backed away as the priest lunged for him. Blinded, the father must not have seen the growing gap. He fell headfirst into the churning orange lava, boiling the priest as he hit the surface.

Crossing himself, Brandt backed away as the floor split in two.

Throwing caution to the wind—since how much had it really helped him in the past?—he charged forward, to find Rebecca crumpled beneath the Black Madonna. Even injured, she tried to keep Monnie away from Vakasa. The little girl tried to cling to Rebecca but Monnie, jerked her to her feet, put a knife to the child’s neck.

“Drop the weapon,” she demanded.

“You won’t kill her…” Brandt said, advancing slowly, trying to find a window.

Monnie’s eyebrow went up. “Clearly, you don’t know exactly how nice it is to be the Master.” The woman brought the knife even closer to Vakasa’s jugular. “It would have been far better to bring her to the sanctuary to prove my devotion than have the girl die a tragic accident, but I am sure I can wing something.”