CHAPTER 53
_____________________________________________________
...Initiating Communication....
...Searching For Connection...
...Connection Found....
....Decrypting...
ZEUS: Have you got anything for me?
UNSEEN: Yes.
ZEUS: You found The Golem's lair?
UNSEEN: Negative. He's too careful. He covers his tracks too well. I followed the others this time.
ZEUS: The others?
UNSEEN: The ones you told me about. The woman and the hybrid.
ZEUS: The hybrid? Were you able to find where they're hiding?
UNSEEN: Affirmative. It wasn't easy, the hybrid moves fast. The woman as well. Following them without being detected was very difficult. But I have a location.
ZEUS: This is excellent. Send the GPS coordinates to me.
UNSEEN: Coordinates sent.
ZEUS: Now tell me, what was he doing with them?
UNSEEN: Talking.
ZEUS: Were you able to find out what they were talking about?
UNSEEN: No. I was too far away, on another rooftop. They spoke together for quite a while.
ZEUS: This is very curious. Have you anything else?
UNSEEN: I have uncovered the location of the “The General”.
ZEUS: The Golem's General?
UNSEEN: Affirmative. A private care facility, on the outskirts of the city.
ZEUS: Excellent, send me the details.
UNSEEN: Already sent.
ZEUS: You have done very well. Does Troy suspect?
UNSEEN: No, I believe he has no idea that I'm sharing information with you.
ZEUS: And are you planning on sharing all of this with him?
UNSEEN: Yes.
UNSEEN: I have to.
UNSEEN: I am loyal.
ZEUS: And yet here you are, sharing with his bitter enemy. Are you really so sure about your loyalties?
UNSEEN: You know I am conflicted. Don't push me.
ZEUS: Of course not. I just want you to remember, there's always a place here with us, where you truly belong.
UNSEEN: I know.
ZEUS: Can you do something for me?
UNSEEN: Something more?
ZEUS: It's a small thing. I want you to withhold some of this information from Troy.
....
....
....Connection timing out...
UNSEEN: What?
ZEUS: Don't tell him about the General's whereabouts.
....
UNSEEN: I can't do that. I'm sorry.
ZEUS: It's a small thing. It's not like he'd notice.
UNSEEN: What I'm doing here, communicating with you, is already betrayal enough.
ZEUS: I understand.
ZEUS: And I forgive you.
...Connection Terminated....
CHAPTER 54
_____________________________________________________
The Golem sat in a small armchair alongside the old man's bed. The chair was uncomfortable, obligatory for a hospital. He shifted in his seat as the old man slept. His eyes were vacant, looking off to a point on the opposite wall. Perhaps even looking beyond it.
The Golem looked over at the old man and said, 'I told them about the facility in Berlin.'
The old man didn't respond, his chest still continued to almost imperceptibly rise and fall without any change.
The Golem sighed, slumping lower in the chair, his perfectly pressed suit folding and wrinkling as his posture settled. He said, 'I know you meant me to go there. It's not that I don't appreciate it. I truly do. The day you gave me that folder, it meant a lot to me. That was the day I came to realize I really was a son to you, not just a tool.'
Still, the old man slept.
'You must have always known I wouldn't, couldn't, go there. I can't expose myself like that, it's simply not in my nature. Maybe you wanted to test me, to push me out of the cave. But it couldn't be. This way, though... This way maybe they'll bring me back something to tell me about myself.'
The Golem sighed again and shifted around in his chair some more. Then he resumed his staring match with the wall.
The hands of the clock on the wall ticked by slowly. They each remained in states of near-stasis. The old man, resting, just about breathing. The monster, gazing into nothingness with a predatory stillness.
After minutes had ticked away the phone on the bedside locker began to ring loudly. The sudden noise was shocking in the quiet room but the Golem did not start. His beady eyes simply rolled in their sockets to settle on the phone. He frowned. He paused. Then he leaned forward and, almost regretfully, took the receiver from its cradle and pressed it to his ear.
The Golem did not speak but simply waited. The voice on the other end of the line was a familiar gravelly rasp. It simply said, 'Hello, Albert.'
The Golem's eyes popped wide open. Then, immediately came to his feet. 'You!' he said.
'Yes, me. You sound surprised.'
'How did you...' The Golem's head shot around on his neck, checking the door and the windows. His usual calmness was gone now, replaced by darting eyes and a tense posture.
'Find you? It doesn't matter. All that matters now is what I have to say. And my leverage.'
'Your leverage?'
'I've found out about this little hospital room.'
'That doesn't matter. I can be gone from here in seconds. Into the night, where you can never find me.'
'Oh I know you can, and I don't have the resources in place just now to make a move on you. No, Albert, I know you can get away before I can do anything to you. But what about your companion there? I doubt he's so adept at jumping out of windows just now. And I have resources enough in place to make short work of him.'
The Golem's eyes fixed on the skeletal shape beneath the blankets and his shoulders slumped. 'What do you want? I'll give you a lot for his safety, but I won't give myself up for your madness.'
'I know that, Albert. Your overtuned sense of self-preservation is almost as fascinating as that incredibly unique body of yours. No, I won't ask you to come to me with your wrists held together. You can help with something that's just as good. Better even, perhaps.'
The Golem was nodding already, anticipating the request. He said, 'You want them.'
'Yes, both of them.'
With no small amount of distaste, The Golem said, 'I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but I have already been unsuccessful in confronting them.'
'Yes, yes, I know. When you faced their combined strength you were marginally defeated. Not defeated even, just driven away. However, I can offer you an ally. I have someone in the city. Someone who's special. Like you, or the hybrid. Very strong, very fast. I don't think they'd even pose a challenge to both of you combined.'
'No!,' The Golem's answer was immediate and resolute.
'But...'
'No. I won't expose myself to your people. If I so much as catch a glimpse of one of your creatures then this arrangement will be terminated, regardless of what you might do to the General.'
'I see. I can't say I didn't expect this. Very well, then I have something else for you. A weapon.'
The Golem cocked his head as the barest hint of a smile touched his lips, 'I'm listening.'
CHAPTER 55
_____________________________________________________
With a muffled chiming noise the "fasten safety belts" sign dulled on the panel above Stryker's head. He looked up and down the aisle, seeking the eyes of an unoccupied flight attendant. After a few moments, he locked gazes with a pretty young redhead. With a movement of his eyebrows, she was moving towards him.
'May I help you?' she said as she stepped alongside his seat.
He smiled broadly, never moving his eyes from hers, and said, 'I'm sure you can.'
He let the silence hang between them. As she shifted awkwardly for a moment, he could see her eyes dart briefly across his face and shoulders. He was very glad that his sweater covered his collar.
After hesitating, she said, ‘What may I do for you, sir?'
His smile widened, almost predatorily, and he said nothing for a moment. Her cheeks gained a small flush but, he noticed, she did not seem unhappy. After another heartbeat, he said, ‘I don't suppose you could bring me a drink?'
With a slightly breathless voice, she said, ‘Of course. What would you like?'
‘Any whiskey you’ve got and just a little bit of ice. If that’s not too much bother.’
‘Of course,’ she said.
He watched as she walked away. He leaned across the armrest to where Father O'Connor sat beside him. He opened his mouth to share a conspiratorial comment. Then he shut his mouth again as he observed that Father O'Connor hadn't paid attention to one iota of the exchange. The priest's attention had never moved, not for an instant, from Father Stryker's smartphone. O'Connor held the phone with both hands, just a few inches from his nose. Stryker heard the creaking moan of the elastic being stretched on a catapult, followed by the crackling screech of a bird being launched through the air.
‘Jesus, fuck and shit,’ said Stryker loudly.
O’Connor, without moving his hypnotized stare from the screen said, from the corner of his mouth, ‘What?’
‘You missed some magic there, Connor,' Stryker said.
‘Oh,’ came the monotone response.
‘I'm priming that beauty for some heavenly moments close to heaven, if you follow my thinking,' said Stryker, a lecherous grin spreading on his face.
‘Hmmm.’ said O’Connor, clearly not really hearing a word.
The red-haired flight hostess returned, bearing a tumbler containing a pale amber liquid. When she handed it to him she also placed a miniature bottle of Jameson whiskey directly into his palm with a secretive glance. She said, ‘I hope you enjoy sir.'
‘Oh, I will,’ he said, holding her gaze far longer than was decent.
When she was gone, he poured the contents of the tumbler down his throat and gave O’Connor a sharp nudge on the shoulder with his elbow. O’Connor dropped the phone into his lap and the spell was briefly broken.
Blinking rapidly, O'Connor looked around and said, ‘What was that?'
‘I’m gonna regret ever showing you that fucking game,’ said Stryker.
‘What? No. I was listening. The game, though, it's amazing.'
‘Amazing might be a strong word for “Angry Birds”,’ Stryker said.
‘No, it really is something, ‘said O’Connor, vacant amazement on his face as he picked the phone back up from his lap.
‘Hang on a second, how about you give me a few minutes of companionship before you turn that thing back on, eh?’ said Stryker.
‘Just one more minute,’ said O’Connor. ‘I just have one more thing to do.’
Stryker leaned over O'Connor's shoulder as he launched birds of many colors at hapless green pigs that impotently awaited their doom. As a little red bird struck a stack of wooden crates, labeled with the letters "TNT", O'Connor laughed. The explosion caused the questionably assembled structure above them to immediately crumble. But, before the glow of the explosion had faded from his retinas, O'Connor's face settled into one of pallid stillness. Stryker looked from the phone to O'Connor's somber face. For a moment he was puzzled by his friend's stillness but then comprehension dawned on him and he said, ‘Oh Jesus, it's just a game.'
O'Connor's vacancy remained, his stare unmoving, as he said, ‘Yes. I know.'
Silence rested between them for a moment before Stryker said, ‘That was a long time ago. You’ve more than made up for that shit.’
When O’Connor turned his face to look at Stryker there was a wetness in his weathered eyes. He said, ‘I know.’ He didn’t even slightly sound like he believed his own words.
‘We’ve all done bad shit,’ said Stryker.
‘Have people died for the “bad shit” you’ve done?’ said O’Connor. ‘Women and children?’
Stryker looked away. He said, ‘That wasn't really you.'
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
‘Couldn’t have happened without me. I knew what I was doing.’
‘And you were young. You were a different person, Con.'
O’Connor stared into nothingness, his expression empty of all emotion. Behind his face, behind the nothingness, there was a sadness and regret.
‘For God's sake, Con, you took a collar so you could forget about all that shit, didn't you?'
O’Connor looked weary as he said, ‘I took a collar so I could repent for it. It’s not exactly the same thing.’
‘Oh, ‘Stryker looked at the back of the seat in front of him. He twisted the top off the bottle of whiskey and emptied the contents into the glass in front of him, the melting ice cube clinking gently as he did so.
Stryker said, ‘ I guess I wouldn’t really get that. The collar was always in my future. From as early as I can remember.’
O’Connor smiled, maybe with a hint of bitterness, ‘And take a look at how that’s worked out.’
‘What?’ Stryker said, a little too loudly. He then spoke overcompensatingly quietly, ‘I’ve done a shit-tonne for the church.’
‘Yes,’ said O’Connor, color returning to his face, his demeanor melting into something a little more cordial, ‘But you haven’t been very… pious… priestly… along the way?’
‘Ah!' Stryker waved a dismissive hand. ‘What do you expect? I was a fucking experiment to them. I never believed a word of that shit.'
‘You mean you don’t believe in God?’ O’Connor said, his voice full of mock astonishment.
Stryker pointed an accusing finger at him, ‘Don’t try and tell me you do either!’
O’Connor said nothing.
Stryker said, ‘Ah fuck it. I’m going to try and see if that red-headed young critter wants to join the mile high club! I suppose you want to get back to that fucking game of yours.’
O’Connor looked at the phone in his lap. He said, ‘Not a while Stryker. Not a while.’
CHAPTER 56
_____________________________________________________
The time passed slowly for Ardia. She was in a kind of stasis as they waited for Razmik and O'Connor to return. Ardia was impatient to move on to Berlin, but without Razmik she was unwilling to leave. Razmik aside, she already felt enough of a kinship with O'Connor to feel that she should probably wait for him as well.
The hours were passed paying a portion of her attention to the television and even less to her mother’s diary. She found that she couldn’t focus on the written words in the book, so great was her excitement to explore the mystery in Berlin. She would leaf through a few pages, occasionally becoming engrossed in her mother’s story, only to become lost in the words as her thoughts wandered.
The only true distraction for her came in the form of Homer. He asked questions about the most mundane things. Many of his questions only heightened to her how little she understood of the world she lived in. When he asked about motor cars and what made them "go", she was able to tell him a little. But when he asked about the microwave in the kitchen, she found herself completely at a loss for an explanation. She was reminded of a quote she had read by Arthur C. Clarke: "Any significantly advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." Homer was amazed by the mysterious workings of the microwave and when she found she had absolutely no explanation for how it made food hot, she realized that she should probably approach such things with the same sense of wonder. In a way, he made her feel ashamed. He approached all of these unknowns with questions, demanding explanations for how they worked while she had always taken them for granted. She realized suddenly that she should maybe have taken a little more of her time to learn what made the world around her work.
For Homer the time moved more quickly. As much as he missed O'Connor, he felt secure in attaching himself to Ardia. He felt a burgeoning kinship there. She was ever present to attempt to answer his questions about the world. He was unsatisfied by many of her explanations, like when she said of the operation of the microwave, ‘It's… ah… radiation and stuff.' Largely, though, he could see she was patient with him. At times he could even sense when he was exhausting her patience and at those times he would often desist and pester one of the others. They were little, puny and uninteresting but sometimes, to distract him, they would brew coffee.
Coffee. This was the source of the only real conflict between Homer and Ardia as the hours passed. Ardia felt Homer was inclined to consume more of the magical liquid than was good for him. On the other hand, Homer felt that the facial twitches and shooting pains in his left arm were simply indications that the coffee was working. In the end, they found a compromise. A rationing system was established, with Ardia as warden, to make sure that Homer didn't die from a heart attack in the priest's absence. While Homer could agree that he didn't want to die suddenly because he had over indulged, he was nevertheless very resistant each time his supply was cut off.
Thirty hours after their encounter with the Golem, when the morning was still newborn and shaky in the legs, Homer roused them all with a bark. He was crouched by the window, one huge finger parting the curtains so that he could look out and observe the world outside. He had spent many an hour like this, just staring at the cars that shot past. This time, though, his posture was tense.
Ardia came to his side. He said, ‘A car is stopping outside.’
Ardia glanced over her shoulder at the Kokoureks and Abraham. She drew a Silverballer from beneath her jacket and racked the slide. The three men made similar preparations, each moving to a position of cover, in sight of the door. Homer squeezed his fists together and his knuckles made crackling noises as loud as popcorn exploding in a pot.
There came a knock at the door. Ardia motioned for Homer to stand behind the door, where he could be nearby. Once he was in position, she moved to the door, with her pistol held behind her back. Grasping the handle firmly, she turned it and opened it just a little bit. When she saw the face of Razmik looking back at her, smiling slyly as he was wont to do, she breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door wide.
Instantly Homer leaped from his position and, with a ferocious bellow and bared teeth, held his arms wide in a posture of terrible intimidation.
Even Razmik’s composure was rattled by the sudden eruption of sound and teeth and size. Ardia just shook her head and turned to pat Homer on the shoulder. Looking past her, Homer saw Razmik and his horrifying expression melted into one of embarrassment.
‘Hello, Razmik,’ Homer said.
Regaining his composure, Razmik said, ‘Hello Homer. Good to see you again. I presume your father hasn’t returned yet.’
Homer shook his head solemnly. Then he smiled slightly and said, ‘But Ardia has been keeping me company.’
‘And we have kept the company as well,’ Marek yelled over his shoulder.
‘Shut up, Marek,’ said David.
Ardia welcomed Razmik with a warm embrace and she closed the door behind him.
‘I’m sorry for my absence,’ Razmik said. ‘It was unavoidable. Tell me, what have I missed.’
They gathered for coffee once again. Once again, Ardia policed Homer’s consumption. Razmik watched with interested humor as Ardia scolded the massive creature for attempting to pilfer an extra cup. Along the way, they shared with him what they knew.
‘So tell me,' said Razmik, ‘where exactly is this "facility"?'
Ardia said, ‘The Golem told us that it's beneath the subway. He described an entrance that was hidden long ago, before the break-up of the Soviet Union. He believes that the German government has no notion that it exists there. He thinks there might even be nobody in the Russian Government that still knows it exists. It was never really explored, it never became a priority for them. It has been there, under the city, for decades, and it is almost completely undisturbed.'
‘Then why hasn’t he gone there?’ asked Razmik.
‘He’s afraid,’ said Homer.
‘He’s paranoid,’ said Ardia. ‘He’s afraid that whoever it is he thinks is looking for him is monitoring the entrance to the facility and that they will pounce on him if he attempts to go there. I think he might be crazy, but either way, he won’t take the risk.’
‘So you must take the risk?’ asked Razmik, staring into her eyes.
‘We must take the risk,’ Homer corrected him, his eyes darting in the wild manner they did after he had ingested caffeine.
Razmik looked at Ardia and then to Homer. He said, ‘Homer… I don’t think we can sneak someone of your… appearance into the subway system in Berlin.’
Homer glowered but simply repeated what he had said, ‘We must take the risk.’
After a moment, Homer said, ‘I must see this place.’
Razmik and Homer locked stares then for a moment. Homer’s gaze was unwavering, which was something that Razmik was unaccustomed to. Then there was a very gentle cracking noise from the window, followed by the tinkle of tiny shards of broken glass, and a pink shape blossomed from Homer’s shoulder.
They all started, unsure of what had happened. Then Homer reached to his shoulder and snagged the object that was attached to his shoulder and held it out to them.
‘What is this?’ Homer asked, the same question he had asked Ardia a thousand times since they had arrived back from their meeting with The Golem.
‘I think it’s a dart,’ said Ardia. ‘Homer, are you alright?’
Already Homer had begun to waver where he crouched. He managed to say, ‘It feels.... Like… not-coffee…'
With that, he slumped face forward onto the coffee table, smashing it into a hundred pieces and sending chinaware crashing into shards.
Then the windows and doors all exploded inward at the same time.
CHAPTER 57
_____________________________________________________
An excerpt from the diary of Damien Slayer-
Berlin hasn’t been easy. The documents I got from the Russian guy are really out of date. Like 40 years out of date. When the cold war started to get a little milder, and it began to become apparent that Berlin was going to become one city again, the guys in charge knew they needed to cover their trails. The lab was already underground and with just a little bit of work they were able to hurriedly conceal the entrance.
The problem is that in the years following the unification of Berlin, the underground railway system was overhauled. The closed tunnels in East Berlin were eventually brought back online. For the Russians who had worked to conceal the lab, this presented a problem. Through back-channels, it looks like they managed to steer works away from where the entrance was concealed so that their secrets would stay secret.
The problem is that the technical drawings I have date from the original covering of the entrance. Since that time, there have been a lot of changes, refurbishments, re-digging and relabelling of things. Needless to say, trying to find this well concealed entranced with questionable information, all while trying not to draw attention, has not been easy. And, needless to say, I don't think I've even come close. I know it's been bricked up so, even when I do locate it, there will still be the very significant problem of trying to brick it back down.
I know if I can get in there that I'll find something concrete about Prowler. My contact told me that the Soviets had almost no opportunity to get in there, which means that whatever evidence the place contained is probably still there. Anything would be useful. Something that might help predict the pattern of attacks. Or something that could help explain Prowler's proclivity for redheads.
The problem now is that my time might be growing short. I don't think that I'm here alone. There's something else here as well. Whatever it is, it doesn't want to show itself. This gives me some security, here in the hostel, as I'm constantly surrounded by people. It is making it very difficult to explore the lonesome, and poorly lit, tunnels.
The thing reminds me of my time in Africa. The thing reminds of Metis. It is like her. Maybe not as strong in that way, but with the same ability. I can feel it in my head. They're only whispers right now, inaudible murmurings. But it started like that with Metis, as well. Soon, I think, the murmuring is going to start turning into words. Then my eyes will start to betray me.
I'm safe in the hostel. For now. But the thing is nearby, maybe it's right outside the window. And it's messing with my brain, working its way into my thoughts and dreams. What happens when I can't trust what my eyes and ears are telling me? What happens when it makes me do something stupid.
I think I’m in trouble.
The only thing left to do is look for help. That's kind of the problem with being a lone vigilante in this particular line of work. There's not a lot of people I can turn to for help. My one shot might be The Secret Order. I've got intel they might like. The only problem is that I'm not sure what they'll do with me if I expose myself to them. It was different with Stryker.
But this constant murmuring in my head… I don’t think I’ve got a lot of choices.
CHAPTER 58
_____________________________________________________
Intense white lights blossomed before Ardia's eyes, deafening pops erupted, forcing her to clasp her hands to her ears. Flashbangs. Her initial reaction to this was to expect to see policemen, or Prague's version of a SWAT team, come rushing in through the doors.
That's not what happened, though.
The room did fill with people. But they weren’t wearing uniforms. Their guns were not the uniform arsenal of a police force. They were armed with an assortment of sawn-off shotguns, Ak-47s and a plethora of handguns. Caught completely off guard, Ardia and her companions had little choice but to raise their hands.
Razmik looked at her, his eyebrows raised. She could only shake her head to indicate that she didn’t know who their attackers, or captors perhaps, were.
The mystery was swiftly resolved. Dressed in his usually impeccable manner, The Golem strolled in through the door, behind the last of his men, his arms clasped behind his back.
‘Golem!,’ Ardia spat. ‘What the fuck is this? I thought we had a deal.’
The Golem held up his two hands, miming an imaginary weighing scales. He said, ‘Deals change, I’m afraid.’
The monster turned his head to Razmik. He said, with mock delight, ‘And if it isn’t the famous Razmik! It would nearly be worth this course of action just to acquire you.’
Razmik held the creature’s gaze and glowered.
Ardia bared her teeth viciously, ‘What do you want, you fuck?’
The Golem said, ‘Why, I want you and your magnificently unique friend here.’ He pointed to Homer’s inert form.
Without fully realizing it, Ardia stepped forward to place herself between The Golem and Homer.
‘What did you shoot him with?’ she said.
‘Worried are we? Don’t be, there won’t be any lasting effects. It is a cocktail of chemicals I received from my benefactor. Specially designed for the likes of Homer.’
The likes of Homer, Ardia thought.
‘I think my benefactor will be very pleased with me when I deliver this prize to him.’
Ardia widened her stance and squared her shoulders. ‘You’ll have to go through me.’
The Golem glanced around at the small army of men that were pointing their guns at Ardia and he smirked. With a wave, he sent two of the men into action. They quickly and efficiently searched the group of captives and removed their weapons. Ardia felt her frisker linger on her chest as he searched her and made a mental note to be especially unpleasant to him if they were to escape.
The Golem said, ‘I don’t think it would be much of a problem to go through you, Ardia. I think it would take little more than a nod from me to have you completely riddled with bullets… However…’
The Golem shrugged off his jacket, handing it to one of his men. He began to unbutton his cuffs and roll up his sleeves. As he did this, revealing leanly muscled forearms that were coated in his creviced black skin, he said, ‘I don’t think it will matter what condition you arrive in, as long you get there alive. What do you say Ardia? I’ll even sweeten the deal. Take me down, man to woman, and I’ll even let you all go. Now don’t go grabbing for any of the guns in the tasteless collection I see lining the walls. We’ll have to call that cheating and the result will be the instant deaths of your friends here.’
He stared at her a moment as he let her chew on the idea. He said, ‘Well? What do you say? Fancy your odds?’
The truth of the matter was that she didn't fancy her odds. Not at all. He was nearly as fast as she was and he was significantly stronger. His skin was the real trump card, though. At least Homer's club like fists could punish the armor. For her, as powerful as she was, that thick carapace made him a truly dangerous foe.
But what choice did she have? Even if he didn’t plan to keep his word, at least there was a chance. And it would buy them some time.
She nodded her head and dropped her arms from above her head. Clenching the hands into fists, she dropped into a defensive jujitsu stance. Maybe, if she could get the leverage, she could break some of his bones. Maybe not. It was better than cutting her knuckles to bloody stumps on his impenetrable skin.
He looked at her formally trained stance with something like disgust. Then, with a loosening roll of his neck, he pounced forward. She barely avoided the attack. She had no hope of gaining a position of leverage. She pushed him forward, adding to his momentum, to create some space. He came at her again, immediately, this time slicing the air with quick jabs instead of bodily assaulting her. She parried the blows as best she could, moving backward around the small space.
She had no hope of success. All she could do was keep him at bay, and even that was only a temporary thing.
She caught a glimpse of Razmik. She could see he had reached the same conclusion. His cunning eyes were moving around the room, from the guns on the walls, to the line of armed men. They were distracted by the fight and were only paying cursory attention to their captives.
The Golem caught Ardia with a thundering blow to the stomach and she flew through the air, landing badly on the back of the couch and slumping over it. The Golem strode forward briskly and tossed the couch aside as though it was completely weightless.
Abraham caught Razmik's eyes. There was a telepathy between them, borne of long years spent side by side. Abraham was chomping to do something, Razmik could see it.
Ardia had regained her footing and valiantly managed to defend herself from more of The Golem’s punishing blows. Then he jabbed through her defenses, crashing his stone-like fist into her jaw. She staggered back and fell to one knee. Blood dribbled from her mouth and onto the floor.
Razmik could see Abraham almost jumping into action with each blow that Ardia received. If Razmik couldn't form some kind of plan immediately, then Abraham was going to do something. That something would almost certainly get him killed.
The Golem caught Ardia by her long hair and pulled her head up. He pulled back his other fist, straining his body for what would surely be the final blow. His face was a maze of madness and Razmik wondered if the creature had forgotten it wanted to take Ardia alive.
A number of things happened at once. Razmik sensed Abraham was rising to his feet. Razmik could see nothing else to do but to throw himself at their captors as well. They both moved. The armed men were captivated by the fight before them and reacted slowly. Razmik and Abraham each reached an opponent before their guns could be turned on them. It wouldn’t have mattered. Even if they had each subdued their respective opponents, the others would have leisurely time to gun them down. But then the shadow swept in through one of the open windows.
It was a big shape. Not big like Homer, but big for a man. And it was fast. As fast as Ardia on her best day. As confusion erupted, the shadowed figure plowed through the gunmen. He was a blur of inhuman speed, bellowing laughter and snarling devilishly from behind a bearded face. Bodies flew through the room, knocking into their comrades, blood geysered in spouts from many men.
The Golem turned, fist still poised over Ardia’s face. He let go of her hair and let her fall to the ground.
What the Golem saw was astonishing. Where before there had been a dozen of his men and four captives, now there was just carnage. Inert bodies were scattered everywhere. Razmik and Abraham each stood armed on either side of the newcomer. And the newcomer was familiar to The Golem.
‘You,’ The Golem breathed. There was hatred in his voice, mingled with rage. But, also fear.
‘Me,' Stryker said. He stood upright, hands on his hips, his priest's collar glowing in the dimness and settling dust. He looked like a linebacker preening for the crowd after a successful sack of the quarterback.
Abraham raised his captured AK47 to shoot but Stryker held up a hand. He said, ‘No. It wouldn’t do any good. Besides, this fucker right here is a piece of unfinished business for me.’
With no more to be said, they threw themselves at each other. Stryker and The Golem collided mid-air with such force that the others could feel the shockwave in the air. They were a blur of action, two shapes locked together, smashing into the walls, crashing through furniture like it wasn't there. The ceiling shook with the force of their battle, dust cascaded from the cracking plaster. Razmik looked around with the sudden fear that they were going to bring the building down.
Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. Stryker stood over the broken form of The Golem. Stryker was bloodied, his clothes were torn and he was breathing very heavily. The Golem was worse. His armored skin was cracked in several places. At a point on his forehead, a palm-sized piece had been smashed off, revealing the shocking white of his skull beneath it. One of The Golems arms was very obviously broken. The two adversaries locked gazes for one more moment before Stryker raised his foot to finish it, aiming for the exposed skull.
The boot came down but The Golem had rolled away. Somehow the creature leaped to its feet and moved for a side door. As it went, it yanked at the pipes in the wall that had been exposed by their crashing battle. As they broke, the pipes the room filled with a loud hissing noise and the unmistakable smell of gas.
Stryker moved to pursue The Golem as it burst through the door.
‘Stryker, no!’, O’Connor had appeared at the rear entrance.
Stryker turned to look at his friend. O'Connor pointed to Homer, then gestured to a hemorrhaging gas pipe. Then his hand encompassed the room where electrical wiring at many points was exposed from the battle. In the dimness, sparks could be seen hopping from frayed cables here and there. And surrounding all of it we cases of ammunition, grenades, explosives.
‘We need you,’ said O’Connor. ‘Homer is too heavy for us to move.’
Stryker looked back again at the door where The Golem had just disappeared through. He even started towards it. Then he stopped with a bitter shake of his head and ran to the huge inert form of Homer. With a mighty heave, he had Homer draped over his shoulders. Homer was so large that his arms still dragged on the floor, Stryker looking puny beneath him.
‘Go!’ said Stryker.
He followed them, walking awkwardly with Homer on his back. Following Razmik's urging, they all piled into the back of the Kokourek's van. Somehow, they all fit inside and the van tore away from the place.
The glow of the explosion washed over them before they plunged into the darkness of the highway.