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  “I almost lost my mind a little while ago, and was ready to charge into the gate myself. I wanted to kill anything that stood for the other side, because they had taken the only person who has ever meant anything to me.” Hanging his head, he whispered softly, “I went into a complete berserker rage; I lost all control. I don’t want to ever do that again.”

  Clara moved her chair to her husband’s side and took his hand gently. “I felt exactly the same way both times you died, honey, and I railed against Raquel to let me loose, to let me use her power. It’s really a good thing she refused,” she said with a sheepish grin.

  Frank leaned down and gently kissed his wife’s lips, softly at first, and then with increasing ardor. When he finally broke contact, Clara’s eyes flashed white and Raquel said, “He really is a dynamite kisser.”

  The lighthearted jest broke the heavy tension in the air, and everyone laughed a little nervously at first. But when Frank threw back his head and let loose a belly laugh, everyone joined in earnestly. Once the laughter had died out, Frank turned to Major J and said, “Let’s get to the airplane. The night’s not over yet.”

  “A PLEASURE TO MEET you, General,” Frank said as they mounted the stairs built into the door of the aircraft. “I must say, when Major J told me your airplane was equipped with a wheelchair lift and tiedowns, I was overjoyed.”

  “Please, call me Hiram, otherwise I’ll have to call you lieutenant all the time,” the General grinned. “My late wife was wheelchair bound for the last eight years, and we spent a lot of time travelling the world and seeing the sights,” he sighed. “I did my best to empty her bucket list before she went over to the other side.” His eyes took on a distant look, and Frank waited politely until he was finished with his memory. Shaking himself, Hiram said, “Anyway, you should get both Hamilton and your wife secured while I finish pre-flighting her,” he said, turning back to the cockpit.

  “You’re the pilot?” Frank replied to the unexpected announcement.

  “I’ve logged over two thousand hours in this beauty since I bought her ten years ago, and I’ve been multi-engine qualified for over forty years,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Flew C-130’s for the better part of them,” he added.

  The brilliance of his gaze belied the weather-beaten appearance of his face. This man was an old warhorse, and he was far from finished. Frank nodded and turned toward the rear of the plane to ensure all was in order. Ham and Clara were both secured to spots where seats had been hastily removed from the equipment rails on the floor. The remaining ten seats were filled with the other members of the team and four rugged and totally capable-looking men with long beards, short haircuts, and steel in their eyes.

  Daniel surfaced from Hofniel’s control for a moment to ask them, “Where did you guys serve?”

  The oldest-looking of the four turned to him and said, “Fallujah.”

  “Al-Zarqawi?” Daniel asked in return, referring to Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the chief strategist and Al-Qaeda leader behind the insurgents in Iraq during the battles for the city of Fallujah.

  The man pointed his chin toward the man across the aisle from him and said, “Kettlebell was on the crew that found the bastard so the wingnuts could take him out,” he finished, referring to the Air Force bombing of the safe house in which the terrorist leader had been hiding.

  “So, you guys all served together?” Daniel asked.

  “Major J, all of us, Hell, most everyone in our unit now, served under the General when he was CO of the Regiment. We’re all Palehorse,” he concluded.

  Daniel’s sharp intake of breath belied his calm exterior. He realized he was in the presence of some of the most seasoned counter-terrorist members the Marine Corps had ever seen.

  “How about you?” Kettlebell asked. “You look pretty hard yourself.”

  Daniel hesitated for a moment before pulling a large gold coin from his pocket. He held it up for the others to see the skull impressed onto its surface with the number 6 on the forehead.

  “Hoowee, lookee here, boys,” Crowed Kettlebell. “We got us a genuine Navy Frogman in our midst.”

  When Daniel colored darkly, the older man cut Kettlebell a hard look that silenced him immediately.

  “Sorry, Gunny,” was all he said.

  “Where?” Gunny asked.

  “Gardez, Turkman, Kandahar, Jbad, Kabul; three tours,” was all he answered, but it was enough.

  Kettlebell leaned forward and held his closed fist out; Daniel bumped his own fist against it. “We cool” He asked.

  “Yeah,” Daniel replied. Then Hofniel’s eyes flared bronze and both Marines jerked their heads back. “We’re cool,” he said.

  Major J stepped into the front of the airplane cabin from the cockpit and announced, “Strap in, we’re wheels up in 10.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  “WE’LL BE ON THE GROUND 30 minutes before dawn,” Major J was explaining as they sat facing each other in the forward part of the cabin. “The local unit has three vehicles waiting for us; two vans with lifts, and a Hummer for the rest.” Looking at Frank, he continued.

  “With your concurrence, we’ll put you, Clara, Sharon, and McElroy in one van, and Ham, Marrisa, Jason, and Daniel in the second. My squad and I will follow in the Hummer, with the General.” For whatever reason, the Major couldn’t bring himself to address the vessels as their rider’s names.

  Frank nodded. “Raquel is an Archangel, and McElroy is God’s Wrath, so we’re well protected. Plus Arariel, who does amazing things with weak-willed people.”

  “I have to tell you, in just the brief time Cassiel was my rider, I understood how all this works; but it still creeps me out,” he said, shuddering visibly. “It just isn’t natural for an angel, especially an Archangel, to occupy a human’s body.”

  “We’ve been helping humanity fight against the forces of true evil for nearly six thousand years,” Camael remarked. “Long before the Shang Dynasty was organized or Upper and Lower Egypt were united. And it’s the only way we can manifest in this plain of existence.”

  “How does that happen, anyway?” Gunny asked in earnest. “I mean, if one of the vessels gets killed, how do we keep the angel here to continue the fight?” For him, it was pure logistics. Keep as many power pieces on the board as possible at all times.

  “Unless it’s a moment of dire necessity, we try to assimilate into the volunteers mind slowly, to avoid the shock you experienced,” Raquel explained. “But as we’ve already discovered tonight, we can even enter into the body of an effectively dead host if prior permission has been granted,” she continued, smiling at Frank to ease the memory of that incident.

  “So, does that mean you can bring someone back to life if they’ve given you permission before it happens?” Gunny pressed the question, leaning forward in his seat.

  “So it would seem, although we are hardly in the practice of doing so under routine circumstances,” Camael interjected. “We, too, have certain guidelines we’re expected to follow; certain tenants to which we must adhere.” He smiled. “And it kind of creeps me out as well, to think of jumping from one host to another to simply to repair whatever damage has been done to their flesh.”

  “Sure, but as a leader, you can see why that concept appeals to me?” Gunny pressed.

  Nodding, Camael replied, “Yes, as a leader, I see the value of the practice.”

  “Then let’s make it official,” Gunny pushed the issue. Looking around at his three compatriots, he asked, “Any of my guys not want an Archangel to jump in and bring you back to life if you bite the big one tonight?” All three Marines gave Gunny an immediate thumbs up. “Then it’s official; you have permission from all four of us to jump in if you feel the need.”

  “Anyway, keeping Ham safe is mission one,” Frank continued, steering the conversation back to the division of personnel on the ground once they arrived. “So we need to send him, Azrael, who is the Angel of Death, Hofniel, who is God’s favored Warrior, and Camael, the Archange
l to protect him. And we need to send them wherever Sariel, Priscilla’s angel, and Uriel are. I have a feeling Ham and Pris are the key to finishing this whole disaster.”

  A tone chimed and Major J stood. “That means were on long final. We’ll be on the ground in ten.”

  “The gate is at a place called the Cordorus Furnace,” Ariel informed them when they landed at Donegal Springs Airpark. “It’s a 30 minute drive, but only 19 miles. The rural roads around here originated as market cart trails, and many aren’t much improved,” he said with a knowing grin.

  He was an older man in his mid-50s, with a flowing mane of tawny golden-brown hair and a self-assured posture. He was built like he had worked as a pipe fitter most of his life, with arms the size of small trees.

  “Then we should get moving,” Frank replied coolly.

  Once everyone was situated in the vehicles, the caravan moved. Frank yielded his driver position to the local militia member whose group had provided the vans. He obviously knew the roads and alternate routes better than any of the Oklahoma crew. Ariel chose to ride in the back of the van with Raquel and they chatted animatedly. When they had been moving about ten minutes, Raquel called to Frank.

  “Frank, Ariel is Father’s Lion, and he is fearless in the face of any odds. He would not tell you so himself, as we do not boast of our titles, but he will not desert you in the hardest of times. Father has asked him to be your partner, and he has something to share with you.”

  “I have some local information about the site if you think it will help,” he offered.

  “Let’s hear it,” Frank replied.

  Now that they were nearing the point of confrontation, he had retreated to his warrior mode; he was calm and collected, but nearly stone-faced.

  “The Cordorus Furnace is an historical landmark. It was built in 1765 by William Bennet to provide foundry work for the area,” Ariel quoted, as if he’d read a tourist guide. “As such, it has thick walls built of local stone, cut by master masons. It sets in front of heavy woods next to an active creek, and isn’t far from the Susquehanna River.”

  Frank nodding his understanding of the tactical location. “It once boasted a furnace, and it is from there the gate has been opened. Many demons and several wraiths are loose in the countryside, and the local militia group hunts them in earnest. They area for 15 miles in every direction is sparsely populated.”

  “Who guards the gate?” Raquel asked.

  “Adriel and Ariel are there with Sariel and Uriel,” he answered. “Theirs has been a valiant effort, but the gate was already active when we arrived. None others have entered this veil since our arrival, but we know not the number before us.”

  “How many militia in the woods, and are they the only humans out there?” Frank asked.

  “The militia commander is Colonel Jeremiah Goldsmith, U.S. Army retired, and he has forty seasoned members in his group,” Ariel provided. “They are mostly retired military, police officers, and two Federal Agents, but they’re all still very good at what they are doing. There is also a Game Warden who is involved, although I do not fully comprehend her role.”

  “Do any of the members own or have access to a drone with FLIR capability?” Frank asked as he ran through the standard escapee search protocols he had used many times.

  Ariel produced a cell phone from his jacket pocket and punched in a number. Handing the phone to Frank, he said, “This is Colonel Goldsmith’s number I just called.”

  “Goldsmith,” the voice at the other end answered.

  “Colonel, Lieutenant Frank Kratos from Oklahoma. We’re the...”

  “I’ll save you the time, Frank,” Goldsmith cut him off. “I know as much as I need to about you and this incident, thanks to your janitor and...how the hell does a thirteen-year-old manage to get an Archangel rider, anyway? Never mind, I like Priscilla, she’s a spitfire. How far out are you?”

  “Probably 15 minutes, but I need to know if anyone has access to a drone with FLIR,” Frank asked again.

  “Negative,” Goldsmith replied. “Wouldn’t do any good, canopy is too thick for any thermal imaging. Good idea though. We’ve got something better; tracking dogs. Three of the unit’s members train search and rescue dogs, and they’re hot on the trail. I’m getting regular reports of confrontations, and some of my men are totally spooked. Some of the things they’ve killed defy the imagination. But they’re soldiering on, and we’ll have them mopped up eventually.”

  “Speaking of S and R, have you been able to establish a perimeter?” Frank asked next.

  “Normally, I’d take offense to someone trying to tell me my business, but this isn’t normal; not by any stretch of the mind,” the Colonel chuckled. “We’ve got four-man teams of local LEOs and a few State Troopers at every goat path and rabbit trail leading away from Hellam Township out to thirty miles. All they know is there may be some dangerous wild animals which have escaped from a circus travelling through the area.”

  “It took some convincing, but they’ve allowed us to take the lead,” he continued. “Our story is; we’re the security team the circus hired to find and capture their loose beasts. They’re on high alert, which is the best we can do. No sense getting them all worked up over something most of them wouldn’t believe anyway.”

  “Copy that, sir,” Frank replied with growing admiration. This man knew his business.

  “Colonel, if you don’t mind my asking, how is it you’re not sideways on this whole situation?”Frank asked curiously.

  “You mean why am I not scared spitless by what I’ve seen and heard?” Goldsmith replied. “Same as you, only I was on the Army’s paranormal research team. Twelve years at Area 51 as Security Program Administrator. Alien is alien, regardless of where they originate.”

  “So, you were in charge of the Cammo Dudes?” Frank fished.

  Well, played, Lieutenant; but they were only a small portion of my security forces,” Goldsmith retorted.

  “Well, at least aliens aren’t bent on the devastation of the planet and enslavement of the human race,” Frank reminded him.

  “Not that you know of,” Goldsmith replied nonchalantly.

  “SISTER, IT IS VERY good you have made the journey here,” Uriel said as Raquel rolled off of the lift. “I fear we may need every Brother and Sister before the day is done. Can you sense the activity?” he asked, indicating the foundry.

  Priscilla came running from somewhere in the woods, leaping and dancing as she made her way across the open grass around the building. “Ham, I’m so glad to see you,” she effused as he rolled off the lift from the van he was in.

  Dropping to her knees, she hugged him fiercely and, pulling her head back, locked eyes with him for a moment before kissing him soundly on the mouth.

  “Priscilla?” The exclamation burst out of Marissa’s startled mouth.

  “Mom, excellent, you’re here as well,” Pris said, looking at her mother without rising from her position next to Ham. “Sariel says we’re going to need every hand to prevent the coming attack.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being just a little forward?” Marrisa asked her daughter. “I mean, here, in front of all these strangers?”

  “Mom, there are no strangers in these woods tonight except for the demons we hunt,” Priscilla replied matter-of-factly. “And we could all be dead before sunset. So I’m not wasting any time,” and she leaned over to kiss Ham again.

  “Well alrighty then,” Ham crowed. “Which way is the fight?”

  As he turned his chair toward the foundry building, all the angel vessels turned to face him. Each in turn placed their closed right fist across their chest, centered over their hearts, and bowed their heads slightly.

  “What?” Ham asked, bewildered.

  “All my Brothers, Sisters, and Cousins can sense the immense power you wield Hamilton, and they pledge you fealty,” Sariel spoke. “We need to prepare you for the coming battle; to engage our power with yours so as to have the best chance to prevail.”
r />   “Hey, I just sent Amom to the Moon, and he was one big, bad dude,” Ham smiled. “I figure whatever they throw at us, together we can handle. We got this,” he said with confidence.

  “Amom was indeed a formidable opponent,” Uriel said, walking up with Raquel beside him in Clara’s wheelchair. “But we all sense the same forces at work on the other side of this open portal. Leviathan amasses his horde, and Abaddon the Destroyer comes. Five other Archdemons are joined in; Mammon, who searches out greed in every heart; Amayon, the King of East Hell; Corson, the King of West Hell, Ziminiar, the King of North Hell, and Astaroth, the Grand Duke of All Legions of the Pit. Their numbers are truly legion, and if we fail in closing the gate before they arrive, all is lost.”

  THIRTY

  “THIS LOOKS JUST LIKE the gate in Texas,” Ham said upon entering the forge. “I closed that easily enough. Why would this one be any different?”

  Uriel had cautioned him against displaying any power until they were all ready and positioned to engage the gate as one. “The gate was held open in Texas by Amom and his horde,” he explained. “Once he was vanquished, the gate had very little energy to sustain itself.”

  “So, this gate is being held open by the combined power of all the Archdemons you just mentioned?” Ham asked softly, almost in a whisper.

  “They can’t hear you, Ham,” Azrael said kindly. “And currently, only Abaddon holds the portal in place. Once opened, it takes much less energy to maintain. This is why we must assert all our power simultaneously to close it,” she continued solemnly. “We may very well get only one chance to do so.”

  Ham found himself dead center in front of the blazing gate, angels and Archangels ranked to either side. Sariel had positioned the various vessels in points fanned across the front of the furnace, based on their abilities and levels of power.

  “Let us prepare,” he ordered.