Angels Scream (Echo Team Book 2) Read online

  Flynn leaned against the railing and used his mirror to look at what was beneath them and then did the same with the level above. The other two tiers were arranged just like this one, as the plans had indicted, and the center space below them was simply left empty. He didn’t see any sign of their quarry and he let the others know it.

  For Cade, the cell block was even worse than the corridor, for it was the place that the inmates spent the majority of their time. The Mother Church had long ago decided that it was unjust to simply execute those enemies that surrendered to its mercy, but knew at the same time that it couldn’t allow those same enemies any chance of escape back into the world where they could continue to wreak havoc and harm. Containment facilities like this one were the best answer the Church had come up with and it had put its most battle-hardened veterans, the Templars, in charge of the operation and maintenance. Cell Block D was in the lower security area of the prison, but even here inmates were not allowed to interact with each other, lest they combine their abilities and discover a way of getting past the guards and the wards built into the building itself, and so their existence was reduced to solitary confinement inside of soundproof cells. They were given an hour of exercise per day, in separate, isolated exercise rooms and only on rare occasions did they get the chance to see the sun and open sky.

  Some of the creatures confined in this space had life spans that were all but indistinguishable from immortality to the humans who operated it. Decades spent in confinement with only hope of centuries more of the same made for a blanket of rage and despair so thick that Cade had to take a moment to get used to looking at it all. When he was ready, they began moving along the walkway that extended the length of the cell block on the right side. Some of the cells were still sealed shut and secure; from outside of them the three knights caught glimpses of a variety of things that would have sent ordinary men away screaming in fear. They even recognized a few, captives from earlier missions Echo had carried out on the Order’s behalf. Others had been torn open, victims of the Eretiku’s search for nourishment and the corpses of more than one littered the walkway before them. The men from Echo were cautious, making certain the victims were dead before trying to move past them.

  They had advanced almost to the end of the first walkway when it happened.

  A hand snaked out from beneath the railing and clamped itself around Cade’s ankle. Before he had a chance to react, it yanked him off his feet and then dragged him with amazing strength across the walkway, beneath the railing, and out into the open air high above the floor three stories below.

  But Cade would not be so easy a victim.

  He released his grip on his pistol, sacrificing the weapon so as to leave both of his hands free. As his gun made the long fall to the floor below, Cade made a wild grab at the post of the railing as he was swept past.

  Luck was with him. He caught ahold of it with one hand, arresting his fall, but the Eretiku still had a firm grip on his leg and was already trying to pull him loose from his makeshift anchor. Against the creature’s awesome strength, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long. He began kicking at the creature, trying to loosen its grip.

  “Help!” he yelled and hoped the others would be in time.

  He could feel the thing’s claws digging right through the thick leather of his boot, searching for a better hold, and he redoubled his efforts to kick himself free of its grasp.

  Hands wrapped themselves around his wrists and he looked up to find Flynn holding onto him, the other man’s feet braced against the railing as he fought to keep Cade from falling. Beside him, Callavecchio leaned over the railing, trying to line up a shot.

  “Hold still!” he shouted, and Cade had a second to think Easier said than done before the other man opened fire.

  It was a difficult task, firing over a ledge at an angle, past the struggling body of a friend. Cade was all but certain he was going to end up with a slug in the leg, but even that would be preferable to the thirty-foot fall he was currently staring in the face, so he simply closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

  Callavecchio made three quick shots, one after another without pause, and the third and final shot was followed by an angry shriek that echoed off the cold, stone walls. Cade felt the grip on his leg loosen and realized with something close to shock that he was uninjured and free.

  “Quick! Pull me up!” he said and Flynn did just that, while Callavecchio kept his eye on the space beneath them, visible through his mirror.

  “Do you see it?” Cade asked, climbing to his feet and drawing his sword so that he wouldn’t be defenseless if it attacked again.

  Callavecchio shook his head while continuing to scan the lower area through his goggles. “No. It’s gone, for now.”

  But they knew it was there. Somewhere. The attack had merely increased their determination to find it and end its miserable life.

  An hour later, however, they were back where they had started, at the edge of the third tier, still empty-handed. They had searched the entire cell block and had not found any further sign of the creature. Cade knew it was here somewhere; there was nowhere else for it to go. But so far it had managed to elude their best efforts at tracking it down.

  Just where the hell was it?

  As he looked out over the open space at the walkway on the other side of the cell block, something swung down from the tier above, hanging upside down directly in front of his face. It was close enough that he could feel its fetid breath on his cheek, could smell the stink of its unwashed body.

  With the help of his Sight, Cade could see through the creature’s human guise, could see it for what it truly was; a rotting corpse with slavering jaws and molted skin. A third eye existed in the center of its forehead and it was from this that its wasting gaze originated. With the help of his Sight he could even see a black wave of power emerging from that orifice and he didn’t stop to think, didn’t even take the time to reason out the options, knowing his companions would be dead the moment they turned to look. Instead, he simply squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head forward as hard as he could.

  His skull smashed into the Eretiku’s, dazing it, and he felt its weight fall upon him as its clawed feet lost hold of the railing. They tumbled to the floor, each fighting for the advantage, and ending up with Cade on his back and the Eretiku lying atop him, his hands wrapped around the other’s wrists as he fought to keep its slavering jaws from sinking into his unprotected neck. He bucked back and forth, trying to throw it off him, but it managed to wrap its feet around the back of his legs and held him close. He could hear it shrieking its rage and hunger at him, but he wouldn’t let that distract him.

  As the creature shoved its face forward in another attempt, Callavecchio’s hand shot out and held a mirror directly in front of its eyes.

  The result was astonishing.

  Cade didn’t know if it was because its mystical gaze had been redirected back upon itself or if it simply couldn’t bear the sight of its true nature, but the Eretiku reared up, its prey beneath forgotten for the moment as it clamped its hands over its eyes, shrieking in agony.

  Flynn was ready and waiting. His sword flashed out in a savage blow, slashing through the creature’s arms just below the wrists and continuing forward, severing its head.

  Its screams cut off abruptly and the body fell over backward, spewing blood as black as tar in every direction, as its head rolled off the edge and disappeared from sight.

  For a moment no one moved, shocked into immobility by the suddenness of its end, and then Cade was kicking the thing’s rotting corpse off him in disgust as the other two men helped him to his feet.

  “Are you all right?” Flynn asked, his gaze never leaving the Eretiku’s corpse, as if he wasn’t quite convinced it was dead. It was a move learned from long experience; too many of the things they’d faced had a nasty habit of getting up again.

  This time, however, the creature was good and gone.

  Cade nodded in repl
y and fought to catch his breath. That had been closer than he liked. But the job was done and once more Echo had defied the odds, coming out on top without the loss of a single man. That made him smile, then laugh, and soon the other two men were laughing along with him in simple relief at the fact that they were alive while the enemy lay dead at their feet. They clapped each other on the back, congratulating themselves on the success of what they had accomplished, and then turned toward the doors leading to the rest of the complex where their friends and squadmates were waiting.

  Once again, Echo had triumphed.

  But in the back of his mind Cade realized how close they had come to disaster.

  Next time they might not be so lucky.

  Chapter Three

  “Come on! Pull!” Riley yelled from his seat on the flybridge of the Hatteras 50 fishing yacht they rented in Islamorada. Duncan was in the aft cockpit below him, desperately trying to reel in his fifth marlin of the day, while at the same time ignoring the good-natured insults coming from his left where Patrick Flynn was seated, a beer in each hand and a grin on his face.

  With the defeat of the Eretiku at the Longfort Containment Facility coming so close on the heels of the confrontation with the necromantic Council of Nine and the recovery of the Spear of Longinus, the higher-ups decided Echo was due some much needed rest and relaxation. After the debriefings were done, the team, with the exception of their senior commander, was given two weeks of leave.

  The three men from Echo’s command unit wasted no time in getting out of town. They flew by commercial airline to Miami, rented a car and drove down to Islamorada where their charter boat was waiting for them. For the last six days they had done nothing but fish, drink beer, and bask in the warm Florida sunshine.

  Riley was of the opinion that while danger can bring men closer, fishing would bond them for life. He had a standing deal with one of the charter boat captains on the island; he paid a handsome fee to keep a boat ready and waiting for him and the captain made certain it was available on a moment’s notice. Over the years he’d made it a habit to go out with each of the team’s newcomers, getting to know them in a non-stress environment, doing what he could in that short time to size them up and understand how well they were going to fit into the unit. Those that didn’t pass his unofficial test were quietly transferred out of the unit by Cade, no questions asked.

  Riley had pretty much made up his mind about the new guy before the trip had even gotten underway; Duncan’s performance during the assault on the Necromancer’s stronghold had seen to that. He’d been pleased to see how well the young lieutenant had fit in with the two of them and after six days of hard fishing followed by nights of hard drinking, the three were as close as brothers.

  As he watched Duncan struggle with the fish, the satellite phone clipped to the helm console between the depth sounder and the VHF rang. Riley ignored it at first, intent on the battle in the aft cockpit below him, but by the sixth ring his dedication to duty got the better of him. He spun his deck chair around and snatched the phone from its cradle.

  “This had better be good.”

  “I assure you it is, Master Sergeant.”

  The voice was crisp and clean, with more than a hint of arrogance. Riley recognized it immediately and came up out of his chair, surprised into standing nearly at attention. Despite the fact that the man on the other end of the line was some 2,500 miles away, Riley’s back was ramrod stiff and he stared out at the horizon directly in front of him, his attention completely focused on what was being said.

  “Sir. My apologies, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t, Master Sergeant.”

  Riley held his tongue, though it took some effort. “What can I do for you, Preceptor?”

  “It’s Knight Commander Williams. I haven’t been able to reach him by landline or satellite phone. Nor has he returned any of my pages. In light of recent events, I’m concerned something might have happened to him.”

  Riley let the Preceptor’s comments sink in for a moment. Cade had always treated this man’s predecessor, Preceptor Michaels, with a fair degree of respect, but it was equally obvious that he didn’t care for Preceptor Johannson at all. And unlike all of the other combat units in the Templar hierarchy, Echo reported directly to the Seneschal at the Order’s headquarters in Rosslyn, Scotland. If Cade didn’t want to respond to the Preceptor’s attempts at contacting him, he was perfectly within his rights not to do so.

  But recent events, including the attacks carried out by the Council of Nine against various Templar commanderies and the discovery of a mole deep within the Order, had left everyone shaken. Security was at an all-time high. At a time like this, Cade was unlikely to ignore any attempt to contact him.

  “What do you want me to do?” Riley asked.

  “I understand you’ve been to the Knight Commander’s residence?”

  “Yes, sir, I have.” Unlike the men in the ranks, the senior commanders were allowed to live in private residences rather than on the commandery grounds. Many did not, but Cade was certainly not a typical Templar commander, and he kept a small piece of property in rural Connecticut not far from the Ravensgate commandery.

  “I’d like you to pay him a visit. Double-check that everything is alright. Once you’ve done so, I want you to report back to me. Understood?”

  Riley didn’t say anything for a moment. He noted the way the sun sparked off the deep blue waters of the Atlantic, inhaled the crisp, clean scent of the ocean air, and paused to watch a seagull soar high overhead, hoping for a scrap of bait. It had been a good trip, while it lasted. He sighed and then said into the phone, “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.”

  Once the decision was made, the three of them moved in earnest. As the other two were bringing in the lines and cleaning up the deck, Riley turned the boat to the west and opened up the throttle. While he wasn’t yet convinced that Cade was in any real danger, he didn’t intend to waste any time trying to prove that fact one way or the other either. He was headed straight for Miami, where he could catch a direct flight later that afternoon to New York. The other two would take the boat back down to the Keys, square things with the boat’s captain, and then join Riley as soon as they were able.

  Hopefully, they’d get back to headquarters and discover Riley and Cade having a good laugh about the Preceptor’s unnecessary concern.

  The sun had long since fled the coming of night by the time Riley pulled his rented Ford Explorer into the driveway of Cade’s personal residence in the quiet town of Willow Grove later that evening. The house was set a good distance back from the street and nestled amidst a thick grove of oak trees; a quiet, reserved place that seemed to be in direct contrast with Cade’s driven personality, until you considered the fact that even driven men need a sanctuary to call their own. Cade’s black Jeep Wrangler was parked in front of the house and Riley pulled his own vehicle in behind it.

  As he got out of the car, the first faint tendrils of unease began stirring in his gut. The house ahead of him was dark. If Cade was home, and the presence of his Jeep seemed to indicate that he was, then there should have been lights, some sign of activity. Instead, the space beyond the windows was dark and lifeless. Riley unzipped his coat, giving him access to the pistol he wore strapped in a shoulder holster, and then climbed the steps and rang the bell. When there was no answer, he rang it again. Finally, he tried the knob.

  The door swung open at the touch of his hand.

  “Cade?” he called, into the darkened interior.

  There was no reply.

  Maybe Cade had simply left his door unlocked, but then again, maybe he hadn’t. In this line of business, Riley had learned to be careful.

  He stepped inside the house and quietly closed the door behind him. He stood there in the darkness, listening for signs of life.

  The house around him was silent and the silence itself felt heavy, ominous even, as if the building was holding its breath, listening back.

/>   That faint tendril of unease grew into a thick, ropy tentacle that wrapped itself around his heart.

  Riley drew his gun, the heaviness of the weapon providing some sense of reassurance. Holding it in his right hand, he reached out with his left and flipped the light switch, illuminating the foyer and the living room beside him.

  Everything looked to be in its proper place.

  “Cade? You home, man?” Riley called, his concern over being accidentally shot as an intruder by his friend overcoming his worry that someone else might be present in the house.

  There was no answer.

  Riley moved through the lower rooms, turning on lights as he went. The living room and foyer led into a formal dining room and then a kitchen/great room combination. All were empty. The kitchen sink held a few dirty dishes, but they had been rinsed free of garbage and there was no way of knowing how long they had been there.

  A staircase led upward from the great room and Riley climbed it to the second floor, calling out again as he did so. There still was no answer, but he didn’t take that as evidence that the house was empty. There was always the chance that Cade had been injured and was unable to respond. The upper floor held two guest rooms separated by a guest bath, all of which were empty, and there, at the end of the hall, a master bedroom.

  Turning on the light, Riley was surprised at the Spartan nature of Cade’s personal sanctuary; a bed and a nightstand were the only furniture in the room. Equally surprising was the large photograph hanging on the wall opposite the bed. It was of a young woman, vibrant with life, caught in the act of turning toward the camera with a shy smile on her face. Her long, chestnut hair was in motion, twisting with her, and the light in her eyes made it seem as if she could come alive at any second.

  Riley had no doubt that he was looking at a photo of Cade’s deceased wife, Gabrielle.