Guardians of the Herald - Issue #80 | The Pen and the Sword

Catch up on the first 45 issues on Kindle HERE

“Why can’t that boy hear me?” Colonel Peters asked.

“I don’t know, sir. He’s not in the gear so maybe that’s why,” Sergeant Sanchez said.

“Those angels aren’t using gear and we can hear them. De Paynes and his man weren’t using our gear and we heard them too,” Colonel Peters responded.

“Uh,” was all Sergeant Sanchez had to add, as she centered her focus on her computer screens.

He made a quick decision and snatched the phone from its cradle on the console. He jabbed four quick numbers and waited. Two rings later the other end of the line picked up.

“Detention. Lieutenant Jones speaking,” the voice on the phone said.

“Lieutenant, are you the Officer of the Day?” the Colonel asked.

“Yes, sir, I am,” Lieutenant Jones responded. “Who is this please?”

“This is the base commander, Colonel Peters. I want the prisoners brought to Heaven under armed guard immediately, full combat load. Any attempt to escape is to be met with whatever level of force you deem necessary, including deadly force. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir! We’ll be there in five minutes,” the lieutenant said. Colonel Peters hung up the phone without another word.

“Sir, I can’t figure out how Cherry is getting inside. I can’t figure out how to get him on our comms either,” Sanchez said, without looking up from her displays.

“Maybe Hugh de Paynes can help us with that.” Sanchez grunted her agreement but continued evaluating her data. The sergeant’s body language changed sharply as she leaned in closer to one of her monitors. He wondered what had captured her attention, so he moved to one side and peered over her shoulder.

The display showed several boxed-in horizontal readouts that streamed multi-colored lines from left to right on the screen. Two of the displays read Icarus and Guardian Three. Two others read Bogey’s One and Two. The last one simply read Environment, but it contained more squiggly lines than the others combined.

“What did you find, Sergeant?” Peters asked.

“I’m not sure sir, but I think I found Cherry, but he’s sort of hiding, like the angels,” she answered.

“Hiding, what do you mean? They’re not hiding, they’ve got readouts right there,” he said pointing to the lines designated as Bogey’s One and Two.

“Well, we’ve gotten used to them being there so I programmed the system to pull them out of the background and into their own displays when they’re present, but they’re in the background too. For that matter, everything is in the ‘background’ unless we’ve identified it as a repeating pattern and isolated it. Cherry’s just blending in with the clutter really well right now.”

“Okay, what’s that mean to us going forward?”

“For starters, I think I can get him on comms,” she said.

“Good get his butt on the net now. I have a few choice words for that young man,” Peters said, straightening up and smoothing his uniform in a practiced and unconscious manner.

“Eventually, sir,” she said, still working furiously with her systems. “I can’t isolate that part of the feed yet, now that I’ve found him. Give me a day or two with this data and I’ll have it.”

At that moment the door to the control room opened, and four soldiers in full combat gear entered, carrying their rifles at the ready. Hugh de Paynes and Planche entered along with a young solder wearing the silver bar of a 1^st Lieutenant. Colonel Peters started to address the group and stopped as the pristine nature of the lieutenant’s uniform sunk in. He turned and faced the group openly evaluating the man. The visual appraisal was not lost on the lieutenant. Anyone else would have straightened their spine ever so slightly and sucked in their stomach just a hair more. The lieutenant didn’t have to do any of that, already standing ram-rod straight. The air fairly whistled through the man’s fingers as he cut one of the quickest salutes Peters had ever seen.

“Lieutenant Jones reporting with the prisoners as ordered, sir!” the man said.

“At ease Lieutenant,” Peters said, coming to attention and rendering the cleanest salute he could muster. Jones was either an outstanding Army officer or useless at anything other than keeping his uniform squared away, but any man who could get creases in his pants as sharp as the ones he saw on the man standing before him deserved the benefit of the doubt, for now.

“So, we are your prisoners,” Hugh de Paynes said, turning to face the colonel.

“Yes, you’re prisoners. Make no mistake. Until I’ve ascertained your intentions towards this program,” he responded. He didn’t know if he liked this man or not yet.

“How long will that take precisely, mon colonel?” de Paynes asked.

“That depends on your cooperation.” He didn’t know how he’d prove the man’s intentions one way or the other. Perhaps he’d get Billy Ransom to peer into their minds, if he could be found and if he was still with the program. He didn’t like it, but he had to admit the possibility did exist that the boy had gone over the hill. An alarm claxon sounded adding punctuation to his thoughts. “Report!”

“Enemy activity incoming. Guardian’s position!” reported Sergeant Sanchez.

“Keep your eyes on these two!” Peters ordered the four men surrounding de Paynes and Planche, then he rushed to Sanchez’ monitors. “What’s going on.”

In answer to his question, the door to the nursing home room opened and Robert Dante sauntered in carrying a large bouquet of assorted flowers. The diminutive grey-skinned demon name Rabdos hopped in right behind him. They both froze as everyone in the room turned to face the new arrivals.

Join us on Facebook HERE or follow us on Twitter @FirstChevalier

Issue #80