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Chapter -20- Battlefield Hymn

Saturday, October 2, 2049 - 1:06am Oakland, California ...

Vincent descended the rolling staircase , onto the tarmac. He glanced back at the chartered jet, watching for Nichole Parker. Of course, she wasn't _really_Nichole Parker.

Once she made it to the tarmac she looked around the airport. "Now what?"

"There." He nodded to a black Lincoln Town Car. A driver stepped from the front seat. Vincent placed a guiding hand against Nichole's lower back, moving towards the car.

"You called ahead and arranged for a pickup service, huh? What's next?"

Vincent smiled, proud of the connections he made over the years. "We head to San Francisco. I have unrestricted travel papers with a Government seal on them. They're going to let us pass through the city if any cops try and stop us."

"I was leery of this, earlier." Nichole walked besides him. "But now that we're here, I want to go to Alameda. Isn't that where the theft happened? Why are we going to San Francisco?"

"Call it a gut feeling. Do you trust me?"

Nichole shrugged. "I couldn't stay awake for some reason, but you didn't kill me. So I guess I trust you."

Vincent nodded to the driver and gestured to Nichole. He moved to the rear door and waited until the driver opened the door for her first. Once she was in the car, he ducked into the back door and sat down on a leather seat, adjacent to her.

The driver shut the door.

"Nichole, I was on the phone earlier. You were asleep. I spoke to a man in New York. He called me, claiming to be an oracle."

"I'm awake now. I promise. But I don't understand." She shifted her weight in the rear seat. "I thought Falcon killed all the oracles. He caused them to have an aneurism by overloading the wavelength their brain uses to see the immediate future or something."

"Maybe a new one manifested?" Vincent shrugged. "The guy knew a lot. He was a bit high strung, but he told me to see Sinopa. He said she has a friend who can help us."

"She was married to Jon Parker. She'll hate me."

"Just relax." Vincent lowered his voice when the driver settled into the front seat. He cleared his throat and told the man, "I have an address for your navigation."

The driver glanced back at them and smiled. "Parker Mansion, in Pacific Heights? That's what I was told by my employer."

"Okay, that is a little spooky, but yes. That's where we're going." Vincent leaned forward and passed an envelope up to the driver. "This is your permit to enter San Francisco. It's everything you'll need."

"Thank you, sir." The driver took the envelope, opened it, removed a placard and hung it from the rearview mirror, and put an emergency services light on the dashboard. The driver closed a window between the front and back, giving Vincent and Nichole their privacy.

Vincent turned to her and took her hand. "Maybe you should change your name."

"What?"

"You're not Nichole Parker, right? Do you want to be? If not, maybe you should figure out your own identity."

"I don't know what I want right now. I'll figure it out after we find this bomb. I feel like it's weird to drive away from Alameda."

"You're being drawn to something there - that's because you currently have my abilitya. Something with a concentrated source of radiation - most likely there are several Naval vessels, all running on nuclear power plants. You learn to ignore the background noise in time."

"Oh." She leaned back in the cushy chair. "Dinner on the plane was nice. The steaks were a really nice touch. I guess you know how to impress a girl. You're not as awkward as you thought you were."

"I learned a few things."

"From your rich spouses," Nichole surmised aloud.

Vincent put both his hands atop of hers. He took her hands and held them gently. "You said not to mention them. Let's not. I don't want things to be awkward for you."

"Yeah. Is it true I kiss different?"

"You do. I've only kissed one woman my whole life, and she's a little bit aggressive about it."

"How am I different?"

Vincent shrugged a bit. "You let me do the work. I kind of like it."

Nichole nodded and looked down at her hands, captured by his. "Yeah. He was a little on the firm side, too," she said in regards to Rufus. "You're very gentle, Vincent. I think I prefer it that way."

He smiled in reply.

"So this isn't weird?" she asked. "I mean, with me? Your brother's fiancée or whatever?"

"You're not her. I don't see any similarities, besides how you look. I'm with twins, Nichole. I've learned to look past two people who have physical similarities."

"Yeah, I guess. I'm just glad I didn't turn into a dog on the plane. That would have been difficult to explain."

Vincent grinned. "Yeah, maybe just a little. You've mentioned it a few times, but I haven't seen it yet."

"How long before we get to this mansion?"

"Funny, your doppelgänger grew up in this mansion. She was raised by her brother, Jonathan. And I don't know. It's hard to say, because we'll have to go through a few checkpoints and a lot of red tape, most likely."

"Oh." She eased her hands from his and peered out the window. "Sorry I'm still being weird. I'm not sure how to act around you."

"Just be yourself."

"Which self? My old bitchy self?"

"Be the version of you that I've been talking to since yesterday."

"Oh. The awkward, unsure version of me that kissed you."

Vincent grinned a bit. "Was that so bad?"

She grinned back, but kept her eyes on the window, facing away from him. "No, not really."

X

X

Unknown Date Celestial Realm ...

Karla turned from the pond and faced Reno."I'm glad Kalen, Laura and Kuda made it home safely. God, I hope nothing happens back there. I'm going to be worried sick while we're here."

Tamamo frowned. "Keep your head in the game, Karla-san."

"I'm trying. Sinopa is there. The mirror. We just sent Laura and Kalen there." Karla turned to face Tamamo and chuckled. "Not used to seeing your face. I'm used to seeing Tamae."

Tamamo put her hands on Karla's biceps. The kitsune wore a simple gi, sash, and headband with the Japanese rising sun over her forehead. She had tessen fans on her hips, and a sword on her back. "Karla..."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry."

She stepped back from succubus and said, "We must clear this realm. We must make this area safe for our friends; they may be forced to escape San Francisco into the mirror. They would be coming out of the literal fire, into the metaphorical hot place. We must secure this area, and then we must push back the enemy line."

"Yeah." Karla frowned. "We're not fighting the Jötnar anymore. Those creatures can't be beat, and Lord knows it would've been way easier to rip them apart. Anyway, what's the plan?"

Tamamo drew her katana. The flames of kitsune-bi roared to life, crackling around the blade. "Besides wedging objects into their heart or brain, one of the hunters has reported a way to inhibit their regrowth."

Karla glanced at Reno, briefly, and back to Tamamo. "Well, that's good news! What's the trick?"

"Cauterize the wounds. It takes some measure of time for their cellular regeneration to push through the cauterized wound to regrow the limb, or regenerate a new head, or body. It buys more time after striking down the enemy."

"We need something permanent, though!"

Tamamo nodded in agreement. "When we find older, more powerful deities, they will know how to handle such creatures. They know of limbo-like realms where our attackers can be taken for disposal. They will harm no one, as these realms are void of inhabitants."

Karla rubbed her palms together. "Let's get to work. What's the plan, fearless leader?"

"We split up," Tamamo said, directing her voice to the group. "Karla, Reno, take the hunters down on the footpath, and march towards the hub. Strike down every enemy you can. Find a way to cremate them without burning down the realm, or leave them paralyzed for now."

Karla mock-saluted Tamamo. "You got it, boss."

Karla put her hand on Reno's shoulder and pushed him towards the tree line. "Let's go, Top Cop!"

Tamamo sighed, watching them leave. She turned to Evan and gestured for him to follow. They left the clearing together, headed through the trees, and emerged on a footpath where Tamae stood in wait.

Evan smiled and nodded to her. "Hey. How are you holding up without your Symbiont?"

Tamae tilted her head, speaking carefully so that the English she'd learned from Tamamo's inhabitance could be understood. "Symbiont? I ... is that like a symbiant? You mean without Tamamo-sama?" She nodded in respect to Tamamo then said, "Evan-san, I am honored to help her. And when we are finished, it will be my honor to take her back to Earth to see Conner-kun."

Tamamo grinned. "She is like the sister I never had, Evan-kun."

Evan smiled. "Symbiont ... is a sort of joke, sorry. They're these creatures in Star Trek, called the Trill. God, I haven't watched Trek in twenty-five years. If we survive this, I'm going to marathon the whole franchise."

Tamamo and Tamae exchanged glances.

Finally, Tamamo nodded to Evan. "Very well. You have a creative and unfettered way of taking down the creatures. You can immobilize them in a way that surpasses most other ways of attacking them. You can also create barriers. I believe Tamae will be safest with you. Take a small battalion of soldiers. They are grouped in four lines further up the footpath."

Evan turned to face a group of people in lines, standing around and conversing, nearly a thousand feet up the large footpath. "How ... how many people are there?"

"A little more than three hundred."

Evan swallowed. "I've never ... what's a battalion leader? Lieutenant Colonel? I would need a handful of Captains and Majors to help me keep them together. I've never..."

"Shh, Evan. Be calm."

"Sorry."

Tamamo kissed the side of his face, took two steps back and bowed. "This is how chivalry works in western cultures. Your Dungeons and Dragons, yes? The princess kisses the knight in a chaste fashion, correct?a"

"Uh, yeah." He smiled bashfully.

Tamamo smiled. "Take your hunters into the realm of Asgard. Find Thor and Sif. Tell them that Loki is behind this attack."

"Oh, right," Evan said, "Because Thor and Loki already beef with each other."

Tamamo furrowed her brows. "It is because Sif's bastard son, Ullr, is Loki's lovechild. Loki has seduced many with his charm and his forked tongue. Thor and Sif do not speak of that moment, but Loki cut Sif's hair. And, when close to her, Loki took advantage of the situation. I assure you Thor will push the warriors of Valhalla outward, and help to lead a charge."

Evan licked his lips. "Man, this stuff is never like the comics or the movies. It's always more complicated."

"That is because the faithful humanity that gives our kind life is more complicated than a small team of comic or cinema writers, Evan."

"I hadn't considered that until now."

She nodded in understanding. "Bring Tamae back alive." Tamamo turned to Tamae and they embraced.

"You've given my life purpose, Kitsune-sama." Tamae bowed deeply. "You've given me love - a man with whom I can grow old. You have given me a mate with whom I can stand proudly at his side. You've given me wisdom, and you've given me courage."

Tamamo smiled softly. "I am pleased you forgive my past transgressions and celebrate my life in the wake of Konoe-tenno."

"I am not Rachel Razin. I've always appreciated the good in people and accepted their darknesses. I had my own darkness. I learned to appreciate the good in my life, with your help. The least I can do is be your servant for life."

Tamamo smiled and turned to Evan. "Bring her back to me alive."

"I promise." Evan bowed to Tamamo; she returned the gesture. He turned back to Tamae and said, "Well, major, let's go introduce ourselves to our troops. I've never led a freaking army into battle before."

"They have their own hierarchy amongst them, Evan-san."

Tamamo nodded, agreeing with Tamae, and said, "It is built on respect for those with influence in their peer circles. And now, you will have influence over them. You are now their leader."

Evan remembered a conversation with Karla, which took place twenty-five years ago. He smiled brightly. "Yeah. Yeah, you're absolutely right! I'm their leader; I have influence. Let's go lead our troops to a glorious victory!"

Tamae smiled somewhat and nodded in agreement. "Hai. We will bring honor back to this realm."

Evan brightened. "You may not know what a Klingon is, but you're definitely cool in my book."

"Hai, a Klingon is a warrior race from the show you mentioned - Sutatorekku. I know more about pop culture than Conner-kun." She smiled. "Shall we?"

Evan beamed. "Heck yeah. Let's go kick some monster butt." He lead her up the footpath towards their awaiting battle group.

Tamamo watched them from the tree line and shook her head with an amused smile. She turned to the group of remaining hunters. "Those of you who remain, you are sentinels. Guard this pond so these creatures cannot return. Remember to cauterize wounded enemies before they can heal. If possible, place an object into their skull, or stop their heart."

No one spoke, but everyone had their eyes on Tamamo. She bowed long and low to the remaining hunters in the immediate area. "Nothing can get through to Earth." She turned to the goddess, Sekhmet, and bowed. "There may not be great honor in guerrilla warfare, Sekhmet-sama, but it is effective against such opponents. We must release the deities who have been captured and imprisoned."

"Yes, agreed. A hunt is a hunt. I waged a one-person war against all of Egypt, once. It is quite effective. My people are a confusing sort. Many have been assimilated into one another at one point of time or another, and all of them are nearly forgotten due to the growth of Islam in Egypt."

Tamamo nodded in understanding. "That settles it, Sekhmet-sama. We go, first, to the realm of Shinkai. It is the closest. The shelf of my people begins near the Hallway of Reflection. It isn't far."

Sekhmet nodded. "And after we release them from the Cave of Heaven, you mentioned a god of war that can assist us?"

"Hachiman is the god of wars. He knows strategy, tactics, and he is brilliant. But he is not a warrior."

Sekhmet tilted her head. "Then who will fight at our side?"

Tamamo smiled a bit. "Takehaya Susanoo-no-Mikoto. Susanoo has slain many creatures."

"What is he like?"

"He lives up to his name." Tamamo paused, tilted her head, and added, "Swift, impetuous, male augustness."

"I am a woman warrior, often mocked and misunderstood by men because they see me as inferior simply because my gonads do not dance about between my thighs when I run. I see masculine warriors inferior for the same reason - because they have such a glaringly obvious weak spot in such an accessible area of their body."

Tamamo bit her tongue, in a failed attempt not to snort with amusement. "It is the man's hot blood that makes him a suitable warrior." Together, they began walking towards the Celestial Hub, glowing in the distance. "Although, men have a muscle grouping in their shoulders that women do not possess. Perhaps evolved from throwing spears before humanity learned to write."

"You are quite knowledgeable, Tamamo. But how did academia serve you in the governing chambers, when I rescued you from the Jötnar? Women warriors are superior because we fight with heart, spirit and_passion. We fight as hard as we love. We are powerful enough to create life. In contrast, we are powerful enough to know when, and know when _not to take it away."

"So says the one who could not stop killing until she was drunk on what she thought was blood." Tamamo smiled.

"That is the passion I mentioned. It is rare that a man is overcome with passion. Passion is the embodiment of effeminacy. Passion can be used effectively in the bedroom and the battlefield. Passion can lead a warrior to triumph because it is the appetite, the rage, the fury and the thirst to make the most of the moment."

Tamamo adjusted the strap of her sword sheath. "Perhaps you will like Susanoo after all. That is, once the two of you stop the eventual pissing contest I predict to happen."

Sehkmet smirked. "Is he married? I could use an august, impetuous male - I would leash him and show him humility."

"Ah ... hai, Sekhmet-sama. He is married."

"Yet he has not been properly tamed?" Sekhmet smirked. "That does not matter. I could show his wife how to tame such a man." She bared her claws and narrowed her gaze. However, her pupils dilated to a full, round size. "Look."

Tamamo opened her mouth to response to Sekhmet's playful banter, but was unsure of how to reply. The warrior goddess' change in tone, however, caught Tamamo's attention. She looked up, along the path, and saw two deformed creatures ahead. "Ah, excellent. Remember it is best to insert an object into their skull."

"Yes, and do not remove their limbs," Sekhmet replied. "I recall. It is of no concern. They have ribs."

"Ribs?"

Sekhmet dropped to all fours and galloped like a feral lioness. She dove at the closest creature, up ahead.

Tamamo moved her sandals to her sash, tying them into place. She ran on the balls of her feet, up the dusty footpath. She drew her sword, unleashing the flaming blade, which rang out like a tuning fork.

By the time she caught up with Sekhmet, the lioness had ripped a rib from the creature's chest and forced it into the monster's forehead.

The deformed being dropped to its knees, twitching involuntarily. It fell forward onto its face, writhing.

Sekhmet reached through the creature's back, creating a bloody hole in its torso. She snapped another rib free and pushed the curved bone into the back of the being's skull, at the base of its neck.

"The heart and breathing are regulated here," said Sekhmet. "It will stop flailing soon."

Tamamo slowly sheathed her sword. "The Medulla Oblongata. As Konoe-tenno's court would often attest, I am knowledgable in all forms of academia. They would tell poems and stories how there was no question I couldn't answer."

A playful smile tugged at the lioness' maw, displaying her snow-white fangs. "Answer this, then: Why were you overrun by the Jötnar? Why did you need my help?" Sekhmet held her bloody hands up. "Do not answer. It is rhetorical."

Tamamo frowned. "Why do you heckle me in such a way? Surely you understand my shame. Where is your feminine empathy?"

Sekhmet placed a bloody palm on Tamamo's shoulder. "You tout your mental prowess and your great knowledge. But bragging has no place on a battlefield, Tamamo. Save such self-love for the victory celebration. At least then you can blame your lack of humility on a glass of sake, or a pitcher of beer."

Tamamo frowned and nodded, seeing wisdom in the warrior's words. "Consider myself humbled, Sekhmet-sama." Tamamo bowed.

Again, a sly smile tugged at her feline face. "Now, let's go 'rescue' your great warrior, Sosa no wo no Mikoto, or whatever you called him."

Tamamo replied with a weak smile. "He once slayed an eight-headed dragon."

"Color me unimpressed. I will form my opinion when I see him in battle. Lead the way."

Tamamo nodded emphatically. "It isn't much further."

"Does he fight with passion?"

"He ... is an impassioned man, yes."

"Passion is the key to slaying an army of creatures. How passionate is he?"

Tamamo bit her lower lip and sheathed her sword. "In a fit of rage, he destroyed his sister's rice fields, hurled a flayed horse into her loom, and killed one of her personal attendants. She hid within the Ama-no-Iwato, hiding the sun from the skies over Japan for a measure of time."

"Mm. Perhaps I will like him after all. Not because he brought grief to his sister, but because his blood runs so very hot. Very well, he will fight with us. Where to, Tamamo?"

"The Ama-no-Iwato I just mentioned - that is the heavenly rock cave, where the deities have been imprisoned."

"I cannot recall a time where I've saved the life of a man in battle. This will be a first." Sekhmet licked the blood from her palms. "So far, I am deeply disappointed by the number of creatures to fight."

Tamamo silently whispered a prayer of gratitude for their good fortune, and the lack of enemy creatures. She wanted to fight, but she never wanted to feel helplessly overcome again.

However, walking alongside of Sekhmet made Tamamo feel powerful and confident - a sensation she missed. She uttered a soft prayer to Hachiman.

They walked in silence.

Tamamo looked up and saw a tiny dove perched on a tree branch. A dove - messenger animal of Hachiman. She asked for a blessing.

Sekhmet looked up at the small dove and glanced back at Tamamo. "What is its significance?"

"He will take a message to Hachiman. I asked for his blessing. He looks over warriors."

The bird flapped its wings and flew ahead as if in a hurry. Sekhmet licked her fangs. "I hope that your prayer included more opportunities for me to rip the throats from my enemies. I thirst for their blood."

Tamamo grimaced, forcing a weak smile. "Ah ... yes. I asked for his blessing. I am ... quite sure there are more creatures ahead. The Jötnar were numerous, yet these creatures overpowered them."

"We will crush them, and then we will drink ourselves unconscious in celebration of our victory." Sekhmet beamed with delight at the thought of the battle to come.

The footpath opened into a clearing and the forest ended. Large marble pillars acted as a gate over the footpath. The ground became paved with glistening, smooth white marble bricks.

Tamamo unsheathed her sword again. The snap-hiss of her sword igniting caused her left orange-furred ear to flicker in irritation. Tamamo twirled the sword expectantly. "When I fled the realm, this area was overrun. It is the Celestial Hub, which links the realms of all the pantheons."

"Yes, it is near here that I rescued you," Sekhmet recalled. She sniffed at the air and sighed as though in content.

"What do you smell?"

"Our next meal." Sekhmet growled in delight. Her smile caused her whiskers to shift back along her short, feline muzzle. "A blood buffet. Come, it is time to feast."

X

X

Saturday, October 2, 2049 - 2:40am San Francisco, California US 101 ...

Rafiq El Ahmadi tightened his hands on the steering wheel. He cut his eyes to the rearview mirror and sighed. An annoying strobe effect of emergency lights illuminated his face and most of the city block.

Rafiq pulled to the right until his tires touched an empty curb. The police cruiser moved into position behind Rafiq's van.

"Loki, we're pulling pulled over. What do I tell them about you? What if they ask about the materials in the back?"

"Have faith, Rafiq. They won't see me; stick to our plan for the delievery."

"They will see you," Rafiq argued.

"If your faith in Allah is great, and if you follow the teachings of Muhammad, you will see the truth of Allah's might - the police officer will not see me."

Rafiq sighed. His faith had been dwindling at best since leaving Morocco. He reached over to the glove box and withdrew a registration card for the van. He fished out his driver's license and his green card. Rafiq reached up for his proof of insurance card, fastened to the sun visor.

The officer approached the van and shined his flashlight in through the driver side window.

Rafiq opened the window and passed his credentials out. "I know I was speeding; I'm sorry. I have a 'hot rush' delivery to Marin General."

The officer looked at the license, the green card, and the registration card. He passed the proof of insurance back. "Rafiq El Ahmadi - am I saying that right? Okay, you were speeding, but I wasn't clocking you. What are you doing driving through San Francisco? This is a quarantine zone."

"Officer, I have a radioactive isotope onboard. I'm transporting it to Marin General Hospital. There is a patient lying on the table in the ER, waiting for brain surgery. It's a hot rush delivery."

The officer eyed Rafiq for a moment. "US 101 is closed. Who let you through San Francisco?"

"With all due respect, taking the 92 around to the I580 would take too long. The man is in need of this delievery. I have the radioactive tags on the van and the paperwork with the container in the back. I can show you."

The officer stepped back and waved with his flashlight. "Reach through the window and open the driver door with the outside handle. Make sure I can see both hands at all times. Then I want you to open the back of the van and show me the cargo and the paperwork."

Rafiq swallowed. He looked over at the passenger seat but Loki was nowhere to be seen. Rafiq reached out through the window with both hands and opened the driver door.

He kept his left hand out the window and said, "I'm going to unbuckle my seatbelt."

He reached his right hand back, unfastened his belt, and brought his right hand back to the window. Rafiq slowly guided the door open with his knee, sliding through.

The American officer followed the Rafiq to the rear of the van, brightly illuminated by the patrol car's spotlight.

Rafiq opened the rear doors and handed the officer a clipboard with papers attached. He opened the lid of the cargo. Foggy evanescence rolled out from dry ice within.

"Don't open it," said the officer. "Close the lid unless I ask you otherwise."

"Yes, sorry sir." Rafiq pushed the lid back down on the container and clamped the handle locks.

The officer pointed his flashlight at the words on the paper. His eyes flit back and forth between the paperwork and Rafiq. "Huh." The officer handed the paperwork back. "I would give you an escort but it's outside of my jurisdiction. This is all legitimate. You're right, the quickest way from San Mateo to Marin General is US101."

"Yes, sir."

The officer handed the clipboard back to Rafiq. "There's just one problem."

"Sir?"

"You're headed southbound."

"There are a series of large potholes up ahead. I cannot chance damaging my cargo. I turned around so I could take a side street around that section. I was planning to get back onto US101 further up."

The officer studied Rafiq's expression for a moment. "Hurry up, get where you're going, and avoid San Francisco on your way back to San Mateo."

"Yes, sir. Have a good night."

The officer didn't say anything. He folded his arms and waited.

Rafiq closed the back doors of his van, made his way back to the driver side of the van and climbed up into the seat. He strapped in, put away his license and green card, and sighed. "Allah is great," he whispered.

"Yes, He most certainly is," Loki said, sitting in the passenger seat.

Rafiq flinched and turned to face the Norwegian man. "I don't understand. You're European; why are you telling me you are a prophet of Muhammad?"

"We've been over this. Drive, Rafiq."

"Yes, I saw your magic. But you could be here to deliver me astray. Who are you?" Rafiq eased into the accelerator and the van moved forward again.

Loki spoke in Moroccan Arabic, carefully forming his words. "Rafiq, I am the Norse God, Loki. I have come from the Promised Land, to give you a task for Allah. I asked you to believe. I told you that the officer will not see me, because it is Allah's will. Why do you question Allah's greatness?"

Rafiq's eyes widened. "You speak my home language."

Loki nodded. In English, he said, "I also speak Norn, Proto-Norse, Old Norse, West Norse, English, French, Latin, German, Spanish, Mandarin, Russian, and Japanese. I have had a very long time to learn how to speak important languages. I have had a long time to study the changing cultures of the world. It is how I passed the time while enduring my trials of penance."

Rafiq headed south on US 101, deeper into the heart of San Francisco. "Why did you pay penance? What was your crime?"

"Hubris and rebellion against Odin's peers. I spoke of my tryst with Thor's wife, Sif. I spoke ill of their favored warriors. I spoke ill to Heimdallr, knowing my eventual fate against him in human prophecy. I was ensnared in the remains of my son, tied to a bolder in the Hot Springs, burned with a slow-dripping poison. This lasted a great length of time."

"How did you study the world while locked away, burned by poison?"

Loki sighed. "My wife, Sigyn, placed a bowl above my head to collect it. She brought me word of the world, and provided me with the tools necessary to learn. I prepared myself for my freedom."

"Have ... you met Allah?"

"No. Deities are forbidden to meet the creator. We either have faith, or we live eternity wondering 'what if?' I choose faith, and ask that you do, as well."

"Then be honest with me."

Loki tilted his head in confusion. "In what way, Rafiq?"

"What is in the container behind us? It is not an isotope of any sort. They are not so large." Rafiq tightened his hands on the wheel. "What happened to the other driver? The one who signed the paperwork before you found me?"

Loki reached over and placed his hand upon Rafiq's forearm. "His faith wasn't like yours. I visited the mosque, and I paid a large sum in loose diamonds. I spoke to a man with connections. They said they knew a driver. They called you. Your wife, your two daughters, and your two sons will have enough money to live comfortably. Your children will receive an education."

"And me?"

"Allah needs you to drive. Did the officer see me or did Allah conceal me to his eye, just as I'd promised?"

Rafiq frowned, torn by confusion. "I drove medical supplies before. I once delivered an isotope for a surgery. It was in a much smaller container."

"Just drive, Rafiq. Follow the GPS to the address."

Rafiq withdrew his cellphone and called home. It rang twice, and a woman picked up. She sounded tired. "Karima, are you alright? Are the children safe?"

"Rafiq?" she said over the line. "I thought you were called in to drive for your old boss?"

"I was, Karima. How are the children?"

"Fatima's fever broke shortly after you left. Nadia has been helping with her. The boys are asleep."

Rafiq sighed in relief. "I am glad."

"Rafiq? Are you truly driving for your old boss?"

"I am, why do you ask?"

"A man came by the house. He gave us an envelope. I haven't opened it, but there are small rocks inside of it. You can feel them through the envelope. He said it was payment for you doing Allah's work."

"Open it, Karima." He waited, able to hear ripping paper over the line. A moment later he heard a gasp. "Karima, are there diamonds inside?"

"Yes, Rafiq! How can we accept this? What are they asking you to do?"

"Make a delivery. That is all I am doing."

"Some of these diamonds are two to three times the size of the one in Najat's engagement ring!"

"You do not need to compare yourself to your sister and her ignorant rich doctor husband. Never again, Karima. I promise you."

"No one pays so much for a man to drive a van. What have you done?"

"I am doing Allah's will, Karima. I love you." He cleared his throat so as to stow his emotions. "Tell the children I love them. The delivery is near Sausalito. They are paying me a great deal because I am taking a delivery to a hospital to save the life of a man waiting for surgery. They are paying me well because I must drive through the quarantine zone in San Francisco to get to the hospital on time. I love you, Karima. I simply wanted to check on you and see if Fatima's fever had changed."

"You are a good man, Rafiq. Be safe. Come home to us, so we can put this money to good use."

"Of course. I will see you soon." He thumbed his phone and put it into the cup holder. Rafiq turned to Loki and frowned. "I should not have lied to my wife."

Loki folded his hands over his lap. "Does a man answer to his wife?"

"I tell her everything. It's always the way it has been. Now, tell me what we are carrying in this van."

"The van's destination matches the paperwork. It was headed to Marin General Hospital. There is a man in need of an isotope. I hired a courier to deliver it, so the paperwork adds up. No one will know."

Rafiq swallowed. "What are we carrying?"

Loki reached over and gently clasped Rafiq's wrist again. "What are your son's names?"

"Said," he replied, pronouncing the name to sound like, 'Sigh-yeed,' Rafiq licked his lips, adding, "And my youngest, Youssef." He glanced at Loki. Rafiq looked down at the hand on his olive-skinned arm. "Will I die?"

"If it is Allah's will for you to join Him in the Promised Land. But were you to die, what happens to Karima?"

"My brother, Omar, lost his wife to cancer. He would have the money and the maturity to see that my family is cared for. Loki, what is in the back of the van?"

"A lead box packed in dry ice, Rafiq. It is well secured, and it is safe. We are driving it to a contact who will utilize it to its full potential. The less questions you ask, the better we will be."

"And why couldn't you drive? Why me?"

Loki smiled. "I've never driven a human automobile before. The man at the mosque, the one with the connections, said you know the streets of this region very well. He said you're an honest man, who puts your family first. I am here to help you. All I ask is that you have faith in Allah's will, Rafiq."

"Will I regret my decision to help you?"

"Not at all. All we're doing is delivering this lead box to a warehouse in downtown San Francisco. We're nearly there."

"I have trouble trusting Europeans who smile so easily, and pay so much in diamonds for a simple delivery, especially one in a quarantined area."

"Just ... have faith." Loki smiled in a reassuring fashion. "It won't be long, now."

X

X

East San Francisco, California...

** "Do you feel that?"** Vincent asked, suddenly alert.

"I ... I don't know," Nichole said. She looked around at the empty city with a frown. "I feel like I can't sit still."

The Town Car was quiet and smooth, rolling down the street, headed west towards Pacific Heights.

"I think we're near something radioactive, Nichole."

"I feel like I've had a glass of wine. I don't mean tired or drunk, I mean I feel like something is relaxing me. But I feel excited at the same time. Does that make sense?"

He grinned at her. Vincent leaned forward and knocked on the window that separated them from the driver. It lowered. "Sir?"

Vincent placed his hands in the window frame and leaned into it. "We just passed a warehouse, two blocks back. Can you take us there first?"

"Sir? A warehouse?"

"Just turn around and drive back the way we came. I'll show you where we're going. It'll just be a moment." Vincent looked down at a gun holster inside the man's dress blazer. "You may need that Glock in your jacket. Probably not, but just ... better safe than sorry in a city where everyone left except people who shouldn't be here."

"I ... I understand." He driver made a U-turn at the next intersection. "I got my carry license because the jobs pay better but I've never had to use it."

"Let's hope it stays that way." Vincent sat back in the seat and shrugged at Nichole. "You feel it, right? We need to check it out."

"I feel something. I know that warehouse, though."

Vincent leaned forward, watching it coming back into view. He frowned. "So do I."

"Do you?"

Vincent nodded with a sour expression. "Twenty-five years ago, there was a renovated church next to it. They turned it into some sort of gothic nightclub. It was a cover to bring in large trucks full of unmarked equipment. They had a lab beneath."

"How do you know so much about it?"

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and whispered,"I died there."

The Town Car pulled into a parking lot. Nichole and Vincent opened their doors nearly in unison to the driver stepping out.

She looked him over. "You okay?"

"I've come here a few times," Vincent said. He looked up to the roof, spying a security camera. "It's owned by Dr. Falcon. You might be right. He might be behind this."

"Can someone tell me what's going on?" asked the driver. "My documents give us permission to go to the Parker Mansion, but we're not allowed to deviate. If we're caught here, we could be arrested."

Vincent frowned. "I have reason to believe a terrorist is in that building. I can't tell you my source; it's complicated anyhow. Haven't you ever wanted to save lives? Be a hero?"

The driver licked his lips and unbuttoned his blazer. "Nobody is that selfless. If it's true, we should call the police, or the military, and distance ourselves." He reached into his jacket and unsnapped the top of his holster. "Do you think they'll shoot at us?"

"I just need you to watch the car. I have something much better than a gun." Vincent canted his head towards Nichole. "I have her."

"Right." The driver withdrew his weapon and held it in both hands, pointed down. "I'll just ... wait here, Mr. Nevada."

"Thanks." Vincent took Nichole's hand and walked towards the warehouse. He glanced over his shoulder and said, "I never caught your name."

"Andrews, sir. Randall Andrews."

Nichole arched her brows. "Randy ... Andy?"

Andrews frowned. "That was a nickname I've had a long time. It started in high school and college because I have four kids with three different girls."

"I think you've been my driver before. I remember the nickname."

"I've been with this agency for two years," he told them. "I think I took the both of you to a power plant in Maryland a few months ago. It was on the district coast, east of Washington DC."

Vincent glanced at Nichole then back at Andrews. "Oh. I didn't recognize you. You won't, uh, report what you see to your employer, will you?"

"No, I'm paid not to ask questions. My company is discrete."

Vincent smiled. "That explains why my people use your service. Stay with the car. Keep the doors open and the engine running ... just in case."

"Just in case," Andrews repeated.

Vincent walked with Nichole to a small side door at the corner end of the building. "At least he won't tell his boss to alert Falcon that we're here."

"Sure hope not, Vincent."

He stopped in front of the small door and looked up at a security camera. "They can't see us. I'm putting off enough radiation that it's interfering with the feed. Nichole, is this a mistake? Coming here I mean?"

"So what if it is?"

"I just don't want to do something stupid and get in over my head. I don't want to live to regret whatever is on the other side of this door."

She gave his hand a squeeze.

He squeezed her hand back and released it.

She smiled somewhat. "I've made mistakes, but I don't let my mistakes make me." She reached for the door handle and closed her eyes. A moment later, the door popped open. She opened it and offered him a slight smile. "And neither should you."

"That, uh, was actually kind of profound."

"I ... guess." Nichole shrugged and walked through the door first.

Vincent followed her in. His eyes landed on a disfigured creature twenty feet away. His eyes widened and his heart dropped into his stomach. "Oh god. It's one of those things."

"That monster thing?" She whispered.

The being began to lumber towards them.

Vincent swallowed. "It was one of those creatures that killed me when I was a teenager." He took a deep breath. "It ripped my back open with one swipe."

"Did you use your ability on it?"

"I'd only just manifested and didn't know anything about it," he whispered back. "Nichole, this thing will attack almost anyone."

Nichole pushed her sleeves up past her elbows. "In that case, this is going to be therapeutic for you."

"What the hell is it doing here?"

She rubbed her palms together. "This thing is here acting as a sentinel. It's obvious - we're at the right place." She walked towards the creature, suddenly confident and sure of herself. "By the way, whatever it is I feel ... it's _really_close, now."

"I feel it too."

Nichole launched herself towards the grotesque, disfigured creature. She tackled it down, barreling straight through.

She sprung up to her feet. "I'll handle this thing. Go do your radiation bloodhound thing! Go! We might be running out of time!"

"Right!" Vincent hurried across the large otherwise empty room. A section of offices were constructed at the far end.

The warehouse ceiling towered three stories, but the offices were only one story high. Cables and wiring came down from above, connected to the drop ceiling of the offices.

He hurried to an office door and paused. Vincent glanced back, watching Nichole and the creature fight in the distance. He sighed.

Vince took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped into the office.

A large workbench was in the middle of the office. On the long table he saw a missile casing with United States markings.

The closer he came, the more he felt the radiation within, beckoning him with its sweet siren's song.

"Vincent?"

Nevada looked away from the missile casing on the industrial workbench in the middle of the room. He turned the other direction, spotting Wilhelm Snipes.

The man had barely aged in twenty-five years. Just a few years at best.

"You."

"Me. What are you doing here, Vincent?" Wilhelm walked to the office door and peered through a square window in the door. "Is that Nichole out there? Why is she fighting one of our soldiers?"

"That isn't a soldier. It's a biological weapon. And it's a mistake. It's a goddamn monster."

"Falcon found a way to make them docile to a localized master. They can take orders now. Why is she attacking my guard? Tell her to stand down. Your orders are to take her home, so get the hell out of here."

"My orders? I felt the pull of radiation. What are you doing here? Not to mention, you're not wearing protective gear."

Snipes narrowed his gaze. "Vincent, my driver is dead. I'm stranded in San Francisco."

"Are you here to stop the bomb?"

"Wait, is your driver here?"

"He's out front," Vincent said with a head tilt. "Are you here to stop this bomb?"

"It can't be stopped. You need to get out of this city or you're going to die. Come on, let's get moving. Who is your driver?"

"Andrews. Why can't it be stopped?"

"We don't have long, Vincent. I'll explain later. We have to get out of San Francisco now." Snipes headed for the office door, leading out to the warehouse. "I like Andrews. He's one of the better drivers."

"He's taking me to the Parker Mansion."

Snipes shook his head. "Well, now he's taking us to Oakland Airport. _Quickly_as possible, I might add. We're running out of time."

"I'm here to stop the bomb." Vincent moved around the workbench to the other side of the missile casing. He opened an access panel with a bent corner.

"Vincent..."

"Stop worrying, Mr. Snipes." The casing appeared empty but Vincent felt the radioactive residue from putting his hands on the casing. "What the hell?"

"Loki has it. Falcon couldn't talk him out of it. Loki killed my driver and told me to wait and watch the sky."

"What! Why?"

Wilhelm shrugged. "Because of my religious beliefs. He asked me what I believe. I told him. He shot my driver, told me to watch the sky, and that I'll be with my maker soon. He said there is no place in the world for people who pray to a 'creator that doesn't exist.' Then he left with a team of people and the payload."

"God, what if the weapon is several megatons?"

"No, Vincent. That U.S. casing packed twenty. But the nuke will be only ten, maybe twelve kilotons."

Vincent slammed his hands on the missile casing. "Call your creature off, we have to stop this bomb!"

Snipes opened the door to the office. "No. I don't agree with some yuppie-god nuking San Francisco, but there's no time to find the weapon. I'm leaving with or without you. If I don't get back to Falcon and report his new business partner's actions, it will happen again."

Vincent opened his mouth. No words came out. He licked his lips.

Snipes stepped out. "I'll tell the twins you were vaporized."

"Wait!" Vincent hurried around the workbench and approached Snipes. "Why can't you just call Falcon?"

"This city was evacuated, Vincent! The towers were taken offline! I don't have a satellite phone handy, okay?! Are you coming or not?"

Vincent pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had service. "No. Get back to Falcon and convince him this Loki-guy is nuts. I'll find the bomb. I can stop it."

"Jesus, kid. Whatever."

"Maybe it's your provider. I have service. Now call off that freak show partner of yours..

Snipes shouted across the warehouse from the office door. "Stand down!"

The creature, out in the large empty warehouse came to a halt and stood still, staring right through Nichole as though she didn't exist.

Snipes shrugged at Vincent. "Good luck, kid. My driver is dead and one of Loki's people took his car."

"Loki, as in ... the actual Norse bad-guy god, Loki?"

"Yeah. And he pays with loose diamonds, and large gold coins bigger than a Krugerrand. He has people helping to make a dirty bomb."

"Twelve kilotons is a lot." Vincent ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "Are they going to detonate it in the air or on the surface?"

"I don't know, but they're moving it in a van, so probably the surface."

Vincent frowned. "That will create more radioactive fallout."

Snipes punched his fist against the office doorframe. "You're talking a three hundred foot creator, a hundred feet deep. Everyone within two miles will die in a few hours from radiation. Everyone within a mile from the blast will die from third degree burns. Berkley will be covered in fallout, Oakland will have to be evacuated right away or they'll be next. The whole bay area will be fucked, Vincent."

"I can stop it."

"And what if you can't!?"

Vincent clenched his hands into fists. "I can absorb some of it. I can save lives."

"If you absorb that much radiation, you'll be putting your _own_life in danger, Vincent. Don't be an idiot. We don't even know where they're going to set it off. It could be downtown, it could be _any_where."

Vincent stared at the man, surprised by his expression of fear. "Just..."

"Whatever." Wilhlem stormed out of the office. He walked across the warehouse. He stopped at the entrance, leading out to the parking lot and turned back towards Nichole and the creature. "Kill them both." He slammed the door shut and locked it from the outside.

"What?!" Nichole exclaimed. The creature leapt at her.

Vincent, from the doorway to the office, didn't hear Snipes' command. However, he saw the creature jump towards Nichole. He rushed towards them.

The biological weapon froze in midair, claws outstretched. Robbed of inertia by Vincent's radiation ability, the creature dropped to the concrete at Nichole's feet.

She brought her foot up and stomped on its head, empowering her foot with the strength of Collobulous. The creature's head burst, killing it instantly.

Vincent hurried towards her. "Let's go, now."

They headed for the front door. Nichole ripped the door from its hinges and threw it aside. She rushed out into the parking lot and looked around. "Fuck! Where did he go?! Where is our driver?"

"They're gone? Dammit, they're fast!" Vincent clenched his hands into fists. "We're clear across the city from Pacific Heights!"

"Where's the bomb?" she asked.

"Someone else has it. I went in the office."

"What did you find?"

Vincent sighed in frustration "It was the empty missile casing. They're going to get away! We have to find a car. I don't know how to hot wire modern cars!"

"What're our options?"

Vincent looked around, trying to sense a direction to head. He was too worked up to get a bead on the location of the dirty bomb.

"Well?" she asked.

He grimaced. "If we can find an abandoned car dealership, or rental car office, we can steal keys and grab a car. I haven't driven in a while but we should be okay - there's not many people left in the city."

"Can we die from a nuclear blast, Vincent? I'm not so sure I want to know what that's like anymore."

"Nichole ... we have a better chance than anyone else, but not if we're at ground zero. We would be vaporized, then it wouldn't matter."

"God, Vincent, don't say that."

"Let's just ... find a car. We'll do our best. C'mon."

An angry roar from the doorframe caused both of them to turn around. The creature stormed out, into the parking lot, charging towards them. It went towards Nichole first, seeing her as a threat from their recent fight.

"We don't have time to fight!" Vincent shouted. "We have lives to save!" He moved between Nichole and the deformed monster.

Its claws extended towards him. He reached forward, towards the creature. His hands met its throat. Vincent discharged all the radiation he'd absorbed in the past several months, all at once.

The creature dissolved in his hands, turning to ash. Momentum caused the powdery dust to cover his clothes.

"Vincent!"

He turned to Nichole with a look of confusion. "What?" He saw her eyes wide and looked down at a hole in his shirt. Blood ran down the front of his shirt and pants. "I don't ... I don't feel it. It's like Wile E. Coyote. Now that I looked down, I'm going to fall off the cliff aren't I?"

"Shut up, you're in shock. Sit down." She put her hands on his shoulders to help.

"No, wait, I don't want to bunch up my stomach muscles if I'm hurt." He slowly lowered to his knees, keeping his back and torso straight. "I should lay down or something but then I can't see." He pulled up the front of his shirt. "Wait..."

Nichole knelt with him and put her hands on his stomach. "You ... you vaporized it just as it stabbed you. God, you are lucky. It doesn't look too deep."

"It's starting to sting."

"The adrenaline is wearing off."

Vincent winced. "I don't have time for stitches."

"Shut up, let me think." She looked around and spotted an abandoned CVS across the way. "C'mon, let's get out over there. We'll find something. They'll have a clotting agent, like Wound Seal. It's a powder; you pour it on the puncture. C'mon."

Vincent followed her across the street to the abandoned CVS. The doors were shattered, making for easy access.

Most of the shelves were cleaned out from looters. Vincent frowned. "Now what?"

"People steal stuff that makes them high. Nobody steals a cheap powder that creates a scab. This way." She took him down an aisle of first aid products.

Most of it was cleaned out but there were still a few Band-Aids and, just as Nichole predicted, a package of Wound Seal.

Nichole ripped open the first package in the pack and handed it to him. "It might sting for a moment. It's turning the blood around the wound into a scab instantly. It's chemistry. There's a lot of nerve endings there. Just take a deep breath before you pour it on."

"A deep breath huh?" Vincent took the opened packet of powder between his thumb and forefinger. "So I can scream?"

"Should I hold my ears?"

"I'm not a sissy." He poured the powdered potassium ferrate onto the puncture mark on his stomach and winced. Vincent ground his teeth together, not wanting to let her see him squirm.

"It's a deep wound. It's okay if you scream."

"Nope," he hissed through his teeth. He sucked air through his molars, adding, "Got this."

"It's probably serious, and needs medical attention. Wound Seal is for, like, if you cut your finger open in the kitchen."

"It wasn't gushing," he murmured between breaths. "I'm not bleeding internally. I'm fine."

Nichole scoffed. "A dying man's last words, 'I'm fine.' Men whine over the littlest thing, then they try and act tough to make up for it, so they refuse to get medical attention. And then they die from a little infection. Don't die because you're a stubborn boy.."

The initial sting resided. Vincent relaxed his breathing and sighed. "I'll be fine. The city is evacuated. We don't have a lot of options. Let's try and find this stupid bomb. Or a shallow stab will be the least of my problems."

"Yeah. You're right. You did good. I'm proud of you."

"How proud?" he offered her a lame smile.

She cupped either side of his face and kissed him.

Vincent's body flooded with adrenaline again. Suddenly, the stab wound wasn't all that bad anymore. He returned the kiss.

Just as he was starting to really enjoy it, she broke the lip-lock and stepped back. She eyed him with a grin.

"That ... that was nice."

Nichole's grin broadened somewhat. "Glad you're okay enough to make out. But ... another time. Maybe when we don't have to worry about San Francisco going up in a ball of flames."

"Yeah. You're ... you're right. Let's go."

She pushed the other Wound Seal packets from the box into her pocket. "We might need more of these later. Hopefully not, but you never know." She nodded back towards the front of the dimly lit store. "Let's get out of here."

---

Next Chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/805152