The Devil's Pact Pt. 34

We climbed stairs and then rounded a corner in the courthouse onto a long, straight hallway. Through a glass door, I spotted the limo idling outside. The passenger door was open, and Leah, my chauffeur, waited nervously, looking up at the sky. The bodyguards pushed us along. Violet sobbed as she clung to me. I held my slut tight, wanting to protect her.

"Hurry!" Leah shouted as we burst outside, beckoning urgently with her arm.

The moment we stepped outside, sounds crashed into my ears. I could hear sirens roaring from every direction, echoing down the streets. 51 wore a police radio patched into Tacoma PD's network, and the frantic calls for help came from police officers completely outmatched by the soldiers. The roar of helicopters and gunshots echoed through the streets. Shadows passed overhead. More Black Hawks escorted by smaller helicopters, dark against the blue sky, soared over.

"Holy shit!" I gasped. "It's a fucking invasion? Holy fucking shit!"

I pushed the crying Violet into the limo, then grabbed the wild-eyed Desiree and hauled her in, her big tits flopping. I jumped in next, landing on Desiree's lap. I rolled over her, sitting in between my two sluts. Violet clung to me as 51 jumped in. Leah ran around and hopped into the driver seat. With an AR-15 assault rifle clutched in her hand, 09 jumped into the passenger seat, while 32, also armed with an AR-15, piled in the back with us. She slammed shut the heavy, armored door.

What's going on, Mark? Mary's thought practically shouted in my mind.

In my panic, I forgot I could communicate directly with my wife. Soldiers attacked the rally, I sent back, trying to keep my terror out of my sending. I'm okay. We're in the limo and driving off. The soldiers are Thralls protected with the Zimmah spell!

Oh, my god!

The limo peeled away from the curb, the powerful engine growling. Leah followed two cop cars driven by my bodyguards, their lights flashing, sirens flaring. Two more squad cars followed. I looked out the windows of the limo. They were all thick, the limo armored with the best money could buy.

"We're safe, right, Master?" Violet sobbed.

I held her tight against my chest and kissed her brow. I didn't know what to say. Our limo was as close to being a tank as possible. And I didn't feel safe at all.

The lead cop cars took the left at 9th Street, our limo following. We headed up to the top of the hill that dominated downtown Tacoma and away from the firefight at the courthouse. Relief washed through me as I stared through the rear window. I could see the soldiers at the intersection of 9th and Tacoma Ave, occupying the ruins of the police blockade. None followed us.

"I think we're clear," I told Violet. I glanced at Desiree, giving her a tight smile.

She nodded back, hands to her naked chest.

51 didn't say anything as she listened to both the chatter from the Nextels and her police radio.

* * *

Mary Glassner - South Hill, WA

I gasped as 47 hauled me off my mother, my heart hammering, Mark's words echoing in my mind. Under attack. Fallen Eagle. That was the code used if something really, really bad had happened. Only Mark or I could give that command. Fear clutched my stomach as 47 dragged me from the bed. Two more bodyguards moved through the room, one grabbing my stunned mother.

"What's happening?" my mom asked, her face so pale.

"An attack. I don't know." I gasped, my head turning to the dresser. Fallen Eagle meant we were abandoning our home. "Wait!"

"We need to go, ma'am!" 47 insisted as I tugged at her arm.

"My locket!" I cried. We might never come back. I couldn't leave without my locket. Mark gave it to me the day we met. Next to the wedding ring on my finger, it was the most important thing I owned. "Please!"

I jerked hard, pulling out of her grip. The bodyguard were commanded to ignore Mark's or my orders to protect us. Mark wanted to be sure that they, trained cops, would make the decisions in case we panicked.

And I was panicked right now.

I reached the dresser and opened my jewelry box, pulling out the silver heart with the pink rose sculpted on the front. I quickly pulled it over my head to let it dangle between my breasts along with my protection amulet. Then I let 47 drag me out of the room.

My heart hammered in fear as I digested my communication from Mark. What could we do against Thralls when we couldn't use our mind control powers on them? And he said soldiers. God, that was like the SWAT attack last June on steroids.

We raced out of the house and the street bustled with activity. Some of the bodyguards were standing guard, AR-15s in their hands, while the rest were herding our family and servants out of their houses and piling them into the fleet of black SUV's we owned. One of the SUVs waited in the driveway, engine already running. I jumped in along with my mom. Lillian, Xiu, and Korina piled into our SUV and the rest of our sluts piled into a second vehicle behind it.

"Mistress!" Lillian said, her face even paler than usual.

"We'll be fine," I gasped, embracing my mother. "We'll be fine. The bodyguard trained for this."

"What's going on?" Tears fell down Korina's doll-like face.

I tried to speak, but only sobs escaped. Mark was in danger. Soldiers were after him. The tears fell down my face. I was so scared. We were all connected to Mark. I wished to live as long as he had, thinking his wish for a long life would ensure I had one, too. But would that wish save him from a soldier's bullet?

"It's going to be okay," Mom whispered, stroking my hair just like she did when I was a little girl. "Just okay."

I nodded my head.

In just a few minutes, everyone who lived in the neighborhood—our sluts, our families, and our important servants like Sam and our accountants—were loaded into the SUV's. With a roar, we were off. The plan was to drive north to Boeing Field in Seattle. Our Gulfstream was too well known. Any enemy attacking us was sure to try and seize it or stop us from reaching it at the nearby airfield in South Hill. Julius Prescott III, a billionaire we knew, owned a freight airline known as Air-Cargo. We had arranged for a hangar of his at Boeing Field to be set aside to house a 747 airplane. Hopefully, our enemy did not know about this plane.

In five minutes, we were clear of our neighborhood, driving north at breakneck speed. I could hear all sorts of chatter on 47's police radio and on the Nextel.

"What's going on?" I asked 47, regaining my composure after my mother's soothing words.

"The police have just issued a tactical alert," 47 answered. "There are reports of US soldiers setting up roadblocks around Tacoma, and a convoy of Strykers is rolling up 512 towards South Hill. They're running cars off the road, Ma'am."

"Strykers? Those are armored tanks, right?" I asked in fear.

"Armored personnel carriers, Ma'am," 47 corrected. "Not as heavily armored as a tank, but just as dangerous. Squad E has abandoned the Gulfstream. They saw several Black Hawks flying towards Thun Field."

"Please let them not know about our other plane," I prayed, though I had no idea to whom. "Please!"

* * *

Brandon Fitzsimmons

"My Lord Fitzsimmons, we've taken the courthouse," Colonel Abbey said.

Though he was sitting right next to me, the only reason I could hear him over the roar of the helicopter's rotor was through the chopper's internal intercom. I was wearing an uncomfortable helmet with headphones over my ears that blocked most of the Black Hawk's rotor noise. We were in the Command Information Center, or CIC, Black Hawk, hovering high over Tacoma. Colonel Abbey was the G3, or operations officer, for I Corp and coordinating the occupation of Tacoma.

"Do you have Mark?" I demanded.

I could almost taste my victory. Mark Glassner would soon be mine along with his wife, Mary. I would make her my concubine and force the bastard to watch as his lovely wife became my whore. It was what he deserved for stealing my beautiful Desiree.

I looked down at Tacoma, surveying my conquest. The Army Rangers who had fast-roped into Tacoma were surrounding the courthouse as the Stryker Brigade barreled down the freeway to secure the city. The main part of Tacoma was built on a peninsula that jutted out into Puget Sound. There were about a dozen roads that crossed the Nalley Valley separating the peninsula from the mainland. If those streets were blockaded, the city would be cut in half and trap anyone on the peninsula, including Mark if he managed to escape the courthouse.

"My Lord, Chalk 2 reports a limo heading west on 9th Street with a police escort," Colonel Abbey reported after a minute. If I remembered the briefing correctly, a chalk was a group of rangers deployed out of the same helicopter. Chalk 2 was tasked with taking the intersection of 9th Street and Tacoma Avenue.

"Damn it," I snarled. "I want that limo stopped and everyone inside captured."

"Absolutely, my Lord," Colonel Abbey replied. "Bandit 1 and Bandit 3, do you have eyes on a limo heading west from the courthouse on 9th Street?" I couldn't hear the reply. I was only listening to the helicopter's internal comms, not the battle comms. Colonel Abbey nodded. "Disable the vehicle and provide support. Raider 3, head west and drop your chalk on that vehicle."

Bandits were the Little Birds, small, agile helicopters armed with mini-guns that were quite deadly in urban operations. Raiders were the Black Hawks carrying a chalk of Rangers. Mark wouldn't stand a chance.

A triumphant smile crossed my lips.

Chapter Three

Death rained down on the Living God.

—The Gospel of April 36:3

Mark Glassner

The limo bounced around on Tacoma's streets. The city had lost the war against potholes years ago, and the streets grew worse and worse every year. Leah must be doing nearly sixty as we raced away from the courthouse, and we were being thrown about in the back, Violet clinging to me.

"Hold on!" Leah shouted, braking hard, and then the limo made a sharp turn onto Sprague Avenue, pressing me against Desiree. Then we were racing south for Highway 16.

Violet kept sobbing into my chest. "Shh, it'll be alright," I told her, stroking her brown hair. Though I wish I could believe that.

The roar of the approaching helicopter sent fear through me, my stomach clenching. I looked up at the ceiling of the limo out of instinct. Then I craned my head, looking out the rear window, peering up at the sky. Violet buried her face into my chest at the sound.

"Shit, it's in front of us!" Leah shouted.

I bent down to look out the front of the limo and saw streaks of yellow raining down from the sky.

Tracers fired from a helicopter.

The lead cop car exploded in sparks and careened off to the side of the road. The second cop car tried to swerve to dodge the attack. A torrent of bullets shredded its trunk. The tracers marched quickly towards us. It sounded like hail as the bullets struck the limo's armor. The windshield splintered. Desiree was engulfed by blue light as her amulet deflected a bullet. The limo swerved suddenly to the left. Metal crunched. I was flung forward, my seatbelt digging into my chest and waist.

What the fuck just happened? My mind was fuzzy and I groaned in pain.

"We need to move!" someone shouted.

"Leah's shot!" another person screamed.

"Shit!" Someone was shaking me. "Sir, we need to move!"

A Black woman's face hovered in front of me, urgently speaking to me. It took me a moment to realize it was 51. I blinked, looking around. There were dents and holes in the roof of my armored limo. In the front seat, Leah lay slumped over the steering wheel, blood staining her back. The bodyguard in the passenger seat was struggling to open her door. 51 pulled out her folding knife and quickly cut my jammed seatbelt.

"Leah," I shouted, climbing across the limo and grabbing her through the open barrier separating the back with the driving compartment. Blood pumped from a large hole blown through her back. I concentrated on her being healed, and whispered, "Tsariy."

Energy flooded out of me. A wave of dizziness washed over my vision. Red light engulfed her body. She convulsed. I felt the energy sink into her, repairing shattered rips, perforated lungs, and ripped muscles. When the scarlet light faded, Leah sat upright, perfectly healed. Around her neck, the bronze amulet smoked, the protection spell overwhelmed by the helicopter's mini-guns.

"We need to go, sir!" 51 shouted, grabbing me and pulling me out of the limo.

I stepped outside, blinking against the morning sun. We had crashed into a traffic light, the metal pole bent and fallen across the top of the limo. The hood was torn to pieces, and white smoke curled serpentine up into the air from the engine block. Metal scars and pockmarks littered the body of the limo where the armor had withstood the mini-gun's fire. I looked for our escorts and saw the twisted remains of the four cop cars. The helicopter's guns had shredded them into mangled mockeries of sedans.

Two bodyguards crawled out of the wreckage of their cars. Their amulets must have saved their lives, but the other six must be lying dead or dying in their vehicles. I started to run for the nearest wreck when 51 grabbed me and pointed up at the sky. Two small helicopters, both of which had large mini-guns slung on the sides by the landing skids, were banking around, and beyond them a Black Hawk swooped towards us.

"Leah, Violet, and Desiree, scatter!" I shouted. "They're after me! You might get away!"

"Yes, Master!" Violet said, tears falling down her face as she ran away.

Desiree nodded at me then took off running after Violet.

"Go!" 51 shouted at me, pushing me away from the wreckage.

09 led us, running with her AR-15 out. She darted down an alley between two buildings. I followed, 51 and 32 on either side with 18 and 27, the two survivors from the escorts, bringing up the rear. The downdraft from the Black Hawk slammed into us and kicked up stinging dust as it banked overhead. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see two thick ropes drop out the side of the helicopter. The soldiers deployed.

"Shit!" 51 shouted. "Back, back!"

We turned and saw one of the small helicopters hovering at the mouth of the alley, cutting us off. There was a fence and someone's yard to the right. I jumped, grabbing the top and easily hauling myself over. I was never more thankful for getting the Gift from Tiffany than right now. It gave me increased physical strength and stamina, and I was going to need every advantage I had to survive this.

51 followed me over the fence. Gunfire rang out. 32 was halfway over when a bullet bounced off her shielding. She made it over as the fence splintered from the gunfire. I could hear the remaining bodyguards returning fire in the alleyway, buying us time.

"Keep running!" 51 shouted.

I ran across the yard, glancing over my shoulder to see that damned small helicopter dogging our steps. The pilot must be radioing our position. I reached the opposite fence, jumping up and quickly scrambling over. As I lowered myself on the other side, I froze. 32 had stopped, turned, and knelt in the middle of the yard, aiming her AR-15 at the small helicopter. She carefully fired at it, rounds striking the windshield, glass cracking. The copter pivoted smoothly, lining up its guns at 32.

"Run!" I shouted as 51 scrambled over the fence. "Run, 32!"

She ignored me. The only time the bodyguards could ignore my orders was to protect my life.

Fire spat from the helicopter, clods of dirt exploded around 32. She kept calmly firing. Blue energy sprang up around her as the rounds struck her protective charms. For a second I thought she was going to be fine, then the torrent of fire overwhelmed the spell. The bullets ripped through her body.

But one of her rounds must have hit something important because the helicopter pitched to the side. The pilot inside struggled with the yoke. The copter drifted closer and closer to a tree. It tore through branches as the blades dipped into the canopy. And then there was a woody thunk and a loud, splintering sound. The rotor blades disintegrated, throwing debris everywhere. The chopper spun in the air and slammed into a shed with a satisfying crunch of metal.

I grabbed the fence and started to climb back over it. If I reached 32 before she died, I could heal her.

"She's dead, sir," 51 said as she grabbed my arm. "You're not. We have to go!"

I cursed and let go of the fence. "Fine."

We were out on a side-street and we could hear booted feet approaching. We cut diagonally across the street, racing for a small, brown house with a mossy roof. There were several cracking pops from behind us.

Everything around me went blue.

"Fuck!"

My amulet had just stopped a bullet. Adrenaline was screaming through my veins. There were more gunshots. Shots whizzed past and blue erupted around me a second time, a third time. My shoulders writhed each time.

"Shit, the car!" I shouted, pointing at the beat up, gray Plymouth with red primer staining the hood. "We need cover. The amulets won't take much more gunfire!"

51 nodded, changing the direction she ran.

We dived behind the Plymouth as gunfire pounded against the car. Glass shattered and metal pinged with every bullet strike. My heart hammered. I risked a glance around the car and saw the soldiers at the corner. Several were firing at us while others dashed across the street. Fire and maneuver, I think it was called.

51 shot back with her 9mm service pistol. The soldiers hit the dirt and returned fire. Her amulet deflected two rounds.

I didn't see an escape. There was no cover for twenty or more feet, and there were just too many soldiers. I closed my eyes, concentrated and sent: Mary, I love you. I don't think I'm getting out of this one.

No! I can't lose you, Mark!

I swallowed. There was only one hope. Tiffany said the Gift made Monks into fighters, that their powers were combat oriented. I was as physically strong as a man could be. I possessed swift reflexes. If I charged them, maybe somehow I could defeat them. The amulet might sustain a few more shots.

"Stay in cover, 51," I ordered.

She gave me a sharp look. "Sir?"

"Only chance we have," I said as I readied myself.

I took a deep breath. My muscles all tensed, ready. Adrenaline pumped through me. I could do this. I had powers. With a roar, I burst out from the car and ran as fast as I possibly could. As fast as any Olympic sprinter. The distance between me and the soldiers disappeared rapidly.

The soldiers were startled by my sudden charge, but their training took over. They opened fire. The world turned blue about me as the amulet deflected another shot. And then I was on the first soldier. He rose, bracing himself as I slammed into him. He fell back hard. I nearly lost my balance and fell with him.

But I didn't.

A second soldier leaped at me. He grabbed me by the waist, my suit jacket tearing as we grappled. I was stronger than the soldier, more agile, but I lacked any training. I didn't know how to fight. The soldier did.

I pushed him off of me and took a clumsy swing at his face. He easily grabbed my arm, did something with his hip, and I then was flipping over him and falling on my back. I grunted, the wind knocked out of my lungs. The soldier pulled out his knife. Before I could react, it was pressed against my throat.

Cold. Sharp. My artery pulsed against it.

I froze.

* * *

Violet Matheson

Master ordered me to run. I did.

I didn't want to run. I wanted to stay with him, even if it meant I might die. He was my Master. I loved him. But his commands had to be obeyed. My body reacted even before I realized it. I ran as hard as I could.