Part 36 (1/2)

”Home,” Ethel said.

Aaron had just reached the outskirts of Chicago, when Ethel got a call. The conversation was brief.

After the call was done, she reported, ”Smythe is missing. Two men dressed as police officers 'transferred' him out of jail. A detective tried to intervene and was killed with an exotic poison.”

”The Eternals,” Aaron said.

”It seems the Almighty wants Smythe to meet the enemy in person.”

”They'll torture him.”

”I hope we can find him before permanent damage is done,” she said.

”You want to rescue him? A while ago you were talking about killing him.”

”Until I do, he is still a member of the team. Besides, I think this experience might finally teach him a lesson. He won't be so quick to ignore my orders next time.”

”If he survives,” he said. ”I'm sure the Eternals are extremely p.i.s.sed after the smack down we just gave them. They won't be gentle.”

”I know. Drive faster.”

Chapter Twenty-two.

Smythe's back, neck, and legs ached from being forced to remain in an awkward position for hours. He was also cold and very hungry. There was no possibility of sleeping under these conditions. His only entertainment was the sound of pigs grunting and pa.s.sing gas.

Sunlight filtered through tiny windows in the shed, which meant morning had arrived. He wondered if this were his last day on Earth.

As bad as his situation was, he knew it could be worse. He still had vivid memories of the repulsive horrors Ethel had committed when torturing her prisoners. It was impossible for the Eternals to be as cruel.

Four men in black robes entered the shed and extracted Smythe from his cage. His muscles were so stiff at first that he couldn't stand. The men carried him outside, where the air was very cold. Still wearing only underwear, he s.h.i.+vered uncontrollably.

A garden hose was used to wash off the filth. The water felt like ice when it struck Smythe's bare skin. The shock caused him to collapse and curl into a fetal position on the dirt.

After the men finished rinsing him, they dragged him across the yard and towards a huge house with dozens of windows. The plain, rustic building was painted all black.

Smythe had regained the ability to walk by the time they reached the door. However, with guards on all sides and his body still crippled, escape wasn't a possibility. They climbed a flight of stairs and entered an office. He was quickly tied to a steel chair in the center of the room using thick ropes. The four guards stood at attention behind him.

A man sat behind a desk in the office. His robes were made of s.h.i.+mmering, black silk, decorated with geometric designs sewn with gold thread. His hood was thrown back to reveal short, golden hair. Thin scars on his forehead formed the ”sunset” symbol of the Eternals.

”You must be Timothy Smythe,” he said. ”They told me you're a soldier, but you don't look like one. You're soft.”

”Who are you?” Smythe said through chattering teeth.

”I'm known as the Harbinger of the Night. You may call me Master. Are you hungry?”

”Yes.”

”You may eat after you answer some questions.” Harbinger glanced at a sheet of paper in his hands. ”You told the detective we're a.s.sa.s.sins, and you told him about the poison. Where did you get this information?”

Smythe looked around the office. There was a black flag on the wall with the red sunset symbol embroidered on it. A display case held a variety of antique knives and swords, and some of the items looked ancient. A refrigerator with a gla.s.s door contained flasks of blood. Heavy, black drapes covered the windows. Most of the light came from a single lamp on the desk.

”I asked you a question,” Harbinger said.

Smythe had no incentive to answer. In fact, cooperation would end his life quicker because the Eternals would kill him as soon as they had no more use for him. His best strategy was to be as stubborn as possible, and to hope for an opportunity to escape. It was a slim hope.

He doubted the Spears would make a serious effort to rescue him. Ethel was planning to kill him anyway. In her eyes his capture was a well deserved consequence of his insubordination. He couldn't argue with that position. He would still be with his team if he had just followed orders.

”I'll talk after I eat,” Smythe said.

”Don't test me,” Harbinger said. ”I'm normally a patient man but you caught me at a bad time. We had trouble last night. Some of my best men died.”

”What a shame. Do you want to talk about it?”

”No, I want you to talk about it.”

Smythe shrugged. ”I was here all night. I don't know anything.”

”Who is my enemy? Why did they attack us? Are the same people responsible for the other recent incidents?”

”Timothy Smythe, Captain, United States Army.”

”What?” Harbinger's eyes widened.

”Timothy Smythe, Captain, United States Army.”

Harbinger stood up and came around his desk. With his impressive height and bulk, he had the physical presence all military commanders craved.

”You will talk,” he said, ”eventually. Until then, you'll suffer in ways you can't even imagine. I have yet to meet a man I couldn't break. When I'm done draining the information from your mind, I will drain the blood from your veins. Of course, you'll beg for death before then.”

A short, thin man with a shaved head hurried into the room. He only glanced at Smythe before das.h.i.+ng over to Harbinger. The newcomer whispered into Harbinger's ear.

”d.a.m.n,” Harbinger said. ”None of the relics were recovered?”

The thin man shook his head sadly. ”Sorry, sir.”

Harbinger grimaced. ”This is unacceptable. There were only two of them! You'd think an entire regiment attacked us. Are we really that vulnerable?”

Smythe smiled slightly. Sounds like Aaron and Marina had a busy night, he thought. I wish I was with them.

”And the attack was too precise,” Harbinger added. ”I'm starting to think the enemy has an informant. We've had too many suspicious setbacks lately. There must be a traitor in our midst.”

The thin man stepped back. ”That's impossible, sir! Everybody is absolutely loyal to you.”