Friday, October 19, 2012

Paranormal SWAT #3


Greetings all, we've arrived at week three and story three. Once again we're following the adventures of the Paranormal S.W.A.T. if you'd like to see them from the beginning head back to Cul-De-Sac to Hell. This week we take a look at the idea that not all monsters are supernatural or strangers. Hope you enjoy it and remember to tune in next week for a more traditional story of monsters and beasts.

Paranormal S.W.A.T.
Supernatural Weapons & Arcane Tactics
vs. 
The Death Squad of Champaign County


It was an hour after sunset when the trucks headlights broke the thick fog that  clung to the ground like a wet carpet. It was particularly dense this time of year as the temperature began to drop and the dense canopy from the forest blocked the little heat provided by the sun. The truck shuddered under the weight of it’s cargo as it bounced on the lip of the bridge over the river that nearly encircled the town. The truck slowed as it approached the massive protective barrier built around the town and passed through the huge stone gate before finally entering the town of Refuge.

Before the truck had even stopped Douglas Wulf, close quarters fighter and wilderness survival expert, jumped out and jogged the last few yards to the community square. People filed out of beautiful ranch homes and called out in excitement gathering around Wulf to pat him on the back and hug him. Cheerfully he returned the hugs and greetings, stopping to pat children on the head, and smiling at the faces of long missed friends.

“Hello brother,” a tall powerfully built man with long blond hair hanging loosely down his back waved as he walked towards the gathering. “It is good to have you home.”

“Joseph,“ Wulf broke away from the crowd and moved up the slight hill towards his brother where they hugged deeply for several seconds. “It is good to see you as well, I only wish it were under happier circumstances.”

“It is what it is.” Joseph nodded toward the rest of the team as they unloaded from the truck, “and why are they here?”

“Their my team.”

Joseph stepped away not taking his eyes off the others, “This is a community matter, we should deal with it ourselves.”

“No.” Wulf shook his head, “There’s a team of heavily armed killers coming here to murder every man, woman, and child. You call me and tell me this and think I’m not gonna bring the best people I know for this sort of thing. If you wanted this handled internally then you shouldn’t have called me.”

Captain Albert Card, the teams leader and sorcerer, approached the two men stretching his arms and wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Hello, Joseph. I’m glad we could come up and help.” He reached out his hand to take Josephs.

Placing his hands in his pockets, “it was unnecessary. We can deal with this problem ourselves.”

Albert pulled his hand back, “I have no doubt of that, but we need to know where these people came from and who gave them their information. Historically, you fine people don’t leave anyone in any kind of condition to answer these questions. Do you at least know why their here?”

“Yes, We know why their here, they did in fact announce their intentions. It was awful decent of them, they gave us twenty-four hours to repent our sins and give up witchcraft.”

Wulf let out a bark of laughter, “they think you’re witches?”

“Yes, it is very amusing.” Joseph smiled and joined Wulf in his laughter.

Albert turned toward the truck and started back, “God, I hate witch hunters.”

Dr. Griffin Wells, the teams scout and forensics expert, watched as Albert approached, “so what’s the word?”

“There‘s witch hunters in the mist, on the upside I’m pretty sure their cocky and self confident.”

“What makes you think that?”

“They’re not here yet. Seriously, if we we’re going after just a coven of witches, much less an entire community, you guys would have hit it long before now. You don’t  go after witches at night? That and since their still not here I’m guessing they’re planning on hitting the community at midnight, so it’ll be more challenging or God help us honorable.”

Rabi Adam Stein, expert in religious studies and heavy weapons operator, stepped out of the back of the truck carrying an assault shotgun, “so these are just people?”

Wells looked into the back of the truck, “that means regular bullets. Do we have regular bullets?”

Adam ignored him, “Do you want to wait here and set up a perimeter?”

Albert looked around the town, “I’d rather not, there’s going to be to much collateral damage if we fight here. Ultimately, I’d like to take it to them.”

Adam began fastening his armor over his black turtleneck, “if we do in fact have to fight that makes sense, but how do we find them in between now and then?”

Albert looked over at the teams final member, who was throwing a ball with some of the local children. “I think we should send Blake.”

“Are you sure about that,” said Wells, “that’s a pretty big break of the ‘never split up’ rule. Plus if anyone was going do it, it should be me. I mean, I am the sneakiest bastard here.”

Albert sighed, “true to both, but with seventy-five percent of the terrain out there being rivers and ponds, I’m guessing it’ll be hard for you to find a path and with water it’s got to be Blake. As for splitting up, while that’s a great rule for the supernatural,  these are a bunch of guys with guns and I don’t foresee them having the same response skill set. Plus their looking for witches, not us. I seriously doubt they will have prepared for us.”

Wells chuckled, “you want to cackle maniacally and hope for lightning?”

Adam reached into one of the drawers in the truck and pulled out a flare gun, “I’d at least give him this. If he gets into trouble he can signal for help.”

Albert took the flare gun and called Blake over. Blake Lagoona, trained in aquatic operations and a gifted sniper, tossed the ball back to one of the kids, waved and jogged back to the team. Using sign language he asked, (what do you need boss).

Albert quickly laid out the plan for him and handed Blake the flare gun. Giving him an hour and no more he sent Blake off. Blake jogged away and with a barley audible splash dove into the river and was gone.

After they watched him go Adam separated from Wells and Albert to let them plan the rest of the evening. He slowly walked over to were Wulf was leaning against a house watching some children play and leaned his seven foot frame against the wall, “you OK?”

“Yeah, it’s just been to long since I was back.”

“Other than two weeks ago?”

“No, I mean, I don’t know.”

“It’s OK, I understand, you haven’t spent any real time here since we formed the team. A long weekend every three weeks or so isn’t the same as a prolonged visit. Maybe next month, when the busy season passes, you can take a bit off and spend real time here?”

“I’d like that. I just miss this place so much. And it feels weird to be here now, like I’m a stranger in my own home. There’s new faces, I used to greet everyone who came here, and help with the transition. Plus with everything on the internet lately and all the increased activity out there.” Wulf made a vague motion with his hand in the direction of Chicago. “I just want a chance to be normal again.”

“To be fair, normal set sail on the five of us a long time ago.”

“True.”

 “Saying that, I’ll talk to Albert and make sure you get to spend real time here after the Halloween.”

*  *  *

Two hours later, the team was gathered in the woods just outside of a small camp full of men. With only a couple of hours till midnight Adam had convinced Albert to attempt to talk it out. “After all,” he had argued, “they think they’re hunting witches, if they find out the truth they may just leave.”

The camp itself was a small sparse affair, set up in a very military fashion with clean lines and minimal waste. As Albert approached the camp he noted no singing, which probably meant no alcohol. He had hoped for alcohol, it would have been a sign that they were armatures. There were fifteen men in the camp, at least that had been Blake’s best estimate without getting to close. They were clearly getting ready for a raid and each one moved with the precision born of routine, gathering gear, prepping weapons, and donning armor.

They had set up in what was now a fairly large clearing, maybe fifty feet across, and several recently removed trees spoke to just how they had gotten such a large perimeter. Several large halogen lights were pointed out into the new field and the hum of the generator that had led Blake to them whirred on. One side of the camp had backed up against a lake and several flat bottom fan boats stood at the ready, clearly their planned approach on Refuge.

Albert stood in the woods just outside of the light, and listened for the team to report they had arrived at their positions. Three good to go’s and a double click let him know everyone was in place. With that he gave a short count and called out, “Hey, you in the camp.”

Everyone immediately turned and began readying weapons, he could hear bolts being slammed closed and clips being driven home. The men he could make out from his hiding spot had begun focusing on the woods in all directions, though quite a few had discerned his location and were aiming weapons at his position.

“Hold your fire. I’m coming out to talk.” Albert with his hands up at his sides walked out of the woods and moved a few feet into the clearing. At this point he was an easy target, even if his armor hadn’t had the glowing white runes on it, but all he could do was wait until someone in charge said something.

Finally, a man in his mid thirties came out of a slightly larger tent in the middle of the camp. He took one last drag on a cigarette and blew out the smoke in a long slow inhale before flicking the butt off into the lake. “Stay ready men, but less not star’ shootin’ jus’ yet.” He moved to the edge of the camp and called out to Albert, “you wanna meet half way? Would tha’ be ecumenical to you?”

“That would be agreeable.”

“Very well. Now, I suppose I don’t have ta tell ya,” indicating the armed men around him, “I got a mess a guns trained on you. Just like I’m certain you got at least a couple trained on me.”

“I suppose not.”

Albert moved slowly towards his new opponent sizing him up as he went. Albert’s eyes flickered over the mans pearl handled revolver tucked loosely into a leather holster on his right hip. Military issue combat fatigues were neatly pressed and tucked fastidiously into the tops of his calf skin combat boots. Custom fit combat armor clung to his body but still allowed for a distinct swagger as he strolled easily across the field. Albert stopped short of the ten foot mark looking at the ornate iron crucifix that hung loosely from the mans neck.

With a slight bow the man said, “Colonel Darius Jacobs Winterhaven, at your service.”

“Albert Ulysses Card,” and returned the bow.

“Am I to assume ‘at this is about ‘at little town up ta rivah.?”

“Refuge. It is. I’d like to ask you to take a pass on this one and go away. Quite frankly, violence would be inconvenient tonight.”

“We gave ‘em the opportunity ta repent thay sins. Thay ‘ave chosen not to. If thay wish to keep witchcraft in thay ‘arts then I fear we ‘ave no choice but to cleanse ‘em.”

“I would accept that if it were true, hell we’d help, but they aren’t witches.”

Darius pulled a pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket, “Ya mind If’n I smoke?”

“Go ahead.”

Darius tapped a long thin European cigarette from the pack and offered one to Albert who refused. After returning the pack he removed a silver lighter with an ornate cross on the side from the same pocket that lit with a dancing green flame. “A filthy habit, I should quit, but in this line a work it’s rarely the cigarettes tha’ kill ya.”

“To often that’s the truth. Did your lighter tell you what you needed to know?”

Darius chuckled, “I see your versed in tha tools of tha trade. It says you think your tellin’ tha truth. However, yull ‘ave ta forgive my doubt at your intentions, your runes do speak a differen’ story.”

“I’ve never claimed to be good. In fact, in our line of work, I often find the opposite to be far more useful.”

“You could repent. I’d be willlin’ and capable of hearin‘ ‘ur confession.”

“I’ll give you points for persistence. Sadly, I cannot be saved. I’ve spilled far to much blood, guilty and innocent, to ever be redeemed.”

“It sounds ta me like your punishin’ yourself. It is a choice I can respect even though I don‘t necessarily agree wit‘ it.” He took a long drag on the cigarette, “As to the residents of the town, we have iron clad proof that they is what we claim.”

“I want to be perfectly clear on this. You have proof their witches?” Albert locked eyes with Darius it was his most subtle trick and something he felt the men in camp wouldn‘t notice at this range. He held Darius’s attention keeping they’re eyes locked, the lighter conversation had been just enough of a distraction form him to pull off the mesmerism.

“Proof they witches, absolutely. We don’ jus’ wipe out whole villages cause we feel like it.”

“I’d love to see your proof.”

“See our proof, absolutely.” Darius yelled over his shoulder, “Johnson. Bring me the folder from my tent.”

A young man, somewhere in his early twenties, shouldered his weapon and jogged back into the large tent, after a few moments he jogged out to the middle of the clearing holding a think manila envelope. As he approached he held the file out to their Colonel who was about to grab it from him.

“Could he give me the file?”

“You the file, absolutely. Son take it over to ‘im.”

Johnson paused a moment, “yes sir,” then he walked over and handed the file to Albert.
“I don’t think we need anymore targets out here, I wouldn’t mind pausing while Mr. Johnson gets back to camp.”

“Back ta camp, absolutely. Johnson, get yourself under some cover.”

“Yes sir.” Johnson turned and jogged back to the barricade.

“You mind if I take a moment to look at this?”

“Look at it, absolutely.”

Albert quickly opened the file and began flipping pages, “So, I‘m guessing Johnson is reporting back that something’s wrong right now isn‘t he?.”

“Something wrong, absolutely.”

“I’m guessing your all programmed to use the word absolutely at the end of every sentence when hypnotized.”

“Hypnotized, absolutely.”

“It’s a shame really, I like you and in another place and time I think we would have been friends.”

“Friends, absolutely.”

A low wumph echoed from the camp and Albert turned and ran for the woods as a tear gas canister slammed into Darius’s back, knocking him face first to the ground. Albert used the cover of the cloud to mask his movements as he ran for the lifesaving cover of the trees. Flares of light and noise exploded behind him as his own team began taking out the halogen lights illuminating the field. As he dove forward into the woods bullets ricocheting off his armor Wulf moved out of the darkness just a little way off to one side in a low crouch.

Wulf moved quickly across the field the red runes on his armor giving off little light through the cloud of teargas. When he ducked into the cloud, the Colonel was presumably back to camp with the rest of his men. Wulf sprawled on the ground listening to the shots coming from the woods on both sides easily able to recognize the HK assault rifles of Adam and Wells over the Remington’s used by the witch hunters.

After a few moments of intense fire everyone began to start reloading and waiting for someone to give up their position in the woods. Wulf took one deep breath and raised himself up on his knees and elbows. After a three count he charged into the camp and in a few short strides and one leap he was over the wall into the midst of their enemy.

He danced around, his twin knives flashing against the armor and flesh of the witch hunters. At first there was panic, how did he get there so quickly, none of them had prepared for this, they had come to fight witches, not commandos. Each of Wulf’s blades became less and less effective as the men switched from their rifles to the more personal weapons. They began to coordinate and push back, he felt a knife strike his arm and another blade dig into his leg. He began to falter and moaned into his ear piece, “anytime now.”

In answer Adam cried out, “grab dirt.”

Wulf stepped backwards away from his foes and with a quick movement dove over the barricade just as Adam began firing his automatic shotgun through the camp at waist height. Tents exploded and men screamed as the shells tore through armor and flesh. Adam slowly moved the weapon from right to left toward the lake cutting men down as he went. Under his breath he gave up a small prayer for each of their souls.

As his gun destroyed the camp Adam began walking, his dark imposing from moving slowly forward, he was death himself come on judgment day. Some men stood and tried to fire back but even as they raised their weapons he cut them down. Some men ran, and as they fled Adam watched as one lone man rifle in hand stood to defend his fallen friends.

Johnson stood readying his rifle, trying to grasp the trigger not realizing his arm was gone. Adam stepped over the barrier and took the gun from the young man.

“It’s all right son. You can rest now.”

Johnson began to cry, “I don’t want to be buried in a swamp. I wanna go home.”

“I promise, I’ll get you home.” Adam, lay the young man to the ground, closed his eyes, and waited for him to be gone.

Wells watched as two men came charging towards him in the dark, at the last minute he stepped out and prepared to fire his trusty sawn-off. As he pulled the trigger one of the men, higher ranking by the decorations on his shoulder grabbed the other and used his body as a shield. Both of Wells barrels emptied into the mans chest knocking him back into the officer.

The officer shoved the dead man forward, and drew a long thin rapier from his waist then moved towards Wells. Wells stepped to the dead body and grabbed a similar sword from it’s belt then holding his shotgun in his left hand and the sword in his right he began backing away. His feet stumbled over the roots and trees about him and the officer lunged, Wells barely deflecting the blade into his shoulder.

The officer pushed his advantage, stabbing into Wells leg forcing his to stagger off to one side. Wells swung the sword inexpertly in a wide stroke and the officer blocked the blade easily. Wells tried again and again each strike easily blocked by the officer. Wells lunged and the officer parried and brought the blade up and drove it into Wells side just under his armored vest. Wells staggered back, his breath coming in short labored gasps.

“Ah, my friend, you are pitiful.”

“Thanks, I practice.”

I have spent years training with a sword and you clearly have rarely, if ever held one. Do you really think you can beat me?”

“I don’t have to kill you. I just have to distract you long enough for my friend, the walking murder machine, to sneak up on you with his knives.”

The officer spun, his sword at the ready to block the strike from Wulf’s blades. As he turned Wells stepped forward and rammed his sword up into the mans back. As the last breath gurgled from his lips Wells laughed, “Seriously, you fell for look out behind you? God, your stupid.”

Off in the distance the last few men charged up the shore towards the airboats only to have them explode as they reached them. As they staggered backwards grasping at their heads to recover from the explosions Blake leapt up out of the lake, his assault riffle poised and ready. Several men realizing what had happened began grabbing weapons and preparing to defend themselves until Blake made it evident that he would shoot them. They each paused and, after a moment of indecision, dropped their guns.

*  *  *

In the end, sixteen men died and three were taken prisoner. As Adam and Albert searched the camp for information and ID’s they noticed a complete lack of the Colonel. Somehow in the midst of all the fighting he had managed to sneak away.

They had been searching for an hour when Joseph and a few men from the village had come up. Joseph greeted Wulf with a smile, “brother, it is good to see you have survived the evening. I see that you were successful.”

Wulf remained seated on the sandbags and looked at Joseph, “Yeah. We all did.”

“Of course, good news all around.”

Albert stepped forward holding a beat up file, “I was wondering when you’d show.”

Without taking his eyes off Joseph Wulf broke in, “if you don’t mind Al, I think I’ll handle this myself.”

Albert handed Wulf the folder and backed away slowly.

“Brother, what is the matter?”

“We found their information about the village, god bless armored foot lockers. Although, I’m guessing you’ll have a different opinion.” Wulf threw the file at Joseph. “This is all you, every piece of information is from you.”

“Brother, I don not know where you got your information, but…”

“Do you really think we’re that stupid. We’ve seen the website. You think we don’t know that exists? You think we haven’t seen the forum posts, Facebook page, and the editorials. Do you know Refuge is on a cult watch list?” Wulf jumped to his feet and began pacing. “You think I didn’t notice the two new faces?”

“I don not know…”

“The kid and the older guy who every fiber of his being screams PI. The kids depressed as hell, did you even talk to his parents, let him talk to his parents, explain what were trying to do here?”

“They would not understand.”

“Of course not, and what could possibly go wrong with that system. Oh, I know they hire a private investigator to find their son. That man looks afraid to breath out loud. I don’t think he’s slept in a week.”

“I handled it, he is in the community now, everything is going to be fine.”

“Yeah, because once the PI stops reporting in everyone’s gonna drop it. I mean it’s not like anyone’s gonna to call the cops.”

“You have been gone too long, you do not understand. You need to come home, then everything will be OK.”

“Is. Is that what this is all about? Getting me to come home?”

“Of course, now that you have seen the community is in danger you have to come home to help protect us. The outside world is no place for us, you should never have left. But that does not matter now, once we deal with these three and your team no one will bother us anymore. Even if they do we will simply handle it as we have been. They can join the community or they can die.”

Silence filled the clearing for a long moment until Wells broke it by audibly pumping his shotgun.

One of Josephs men turned to grin at Wells, “you think you can stop me little man?”

“You bet Sparky. Now you and Puddles sit before I rub your noses in it.”

Wulf stood in silence for a long time and starred at Joseph and the others. Slowly he sat back on the barrier starring at his brother. “Sixteen good men died tonight because you want me to come home?”

“They weren’t good men, they were hunters.”

“No, they were good men, they were just lied to. We’ve looked at your frame up, it’s absolute. Since their Colonel escaped I can only assume they’ll be more unless something is done about it.”

“As I said, we will handle it Brother.”

Wulf stood and in one smooth motion drew a knife from his waist, spun it upright, and drove it up under Josephs ribs into his heart. “You’ve handled enough brother.” As he slowly slid his brother to the ground he drew the blade and looked at the crimson runes dancing across the surface of the silver blade. It didn’t give him the reassurance he had hoped for.

*  *  *

Adam finished loading Johnson’s body into the coffin in the back of the truck while most of the team sat nearby and watched the mourners carry Josephs body away. The three prisoners had been locked in a small house on one side of the village for their own safety. Albert watched Wulf walk away from an excited young man and back towards the team. “What do you think he’ll do?”

Adam thought on it for a second, “what’s right.”

Wulf came to a stop a little way from the group, “Hey guys.”

Adam walked away and motioned for Wells and Blake to follow. Albert looked at Wulf, “kid looks happy.”

“Yeah, I told him to call his parents and invite them up here. They need to know what were doing and be walked through how this place works. Everybody here has the same disease, once we stop treating it as a greater than thou calling, everything should be fine.”

“So, you’re staying?”

“For a little while yeah. I looked at the books and Joseph has totally screwed this place up. There’s stuff we never found, he’s really made a mess of how this place looks from the outside.”

“What about the new guys?” Albert nodded to the house with the three witch hunters.

“I think I need to arrange a meeting with their superiors and try and figure out how to achieve a peace. I don’t want to keep going to war with these people, they‘re really good.”

“Well, if you need anything give us a call. We’re only two hours away, provided the expressway isn’t a parking lot.”

“So, your three hours away.” They laughed, longer than necessary. “There is something, the new tack armor you got worked up for me, could you send it up, I’ll try it out next week and see if it does what you say.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Next month is October and you seem to think you’re not gonna need me at full capacity plus a little extra for every night of the month?”

“Ok, we’ll send it up with the coffins and address for the men we killed. Adam is being insistent, apparently he made a promise.“

“Sound like him.”

“Anyway, I’ll see you in a couple weeks,” with that Albert climbed into the back of the truck, closed the door, and with three hours before sunrise they were gone.


end

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