Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 50
part #1 of Gods and Men Series
He glanced back over to the woman in black, sensing that she was different somehow. And…she moved closer to him. Not much, but it was enough to make him squirm.
Todd turned and headed back towards the security door leading down to the basement. Once he was through, no one could follow him. He was, in fact, the only one here with a keycard. That was enough for him to start calming some.
Just get downstairs, and you’ll be fine.
“Excuse me?”
Todd whirled around, reaching for the gun underneath his Robert Langdon inspired jacket. However, he released his grip on the weapon once he saw who was speaking.
It was the black-dressed beauty. She was standing not three feet from him. He wasn’t exactly sure how she could have covered that distance without him noticing. He remembered hearing her heels echo around the room when she initially entered. He surely would have heard them again.
It’s not like she could’ve jumped that distance and landed like a panther, right?
“Y-yes?” Todd couldn’t even look directly at her. She was sending chill after chill of nerve-wracking energy towards him. Breathing hard, he did his best to relax. Her posture wasn’t the least bit threatening. If she was, it was to his emotions and not to him physically.
“Could you help me find something, please?” Her accent was strange, yet familiar. He couldn’t place it, but it sounded Italian, mixed with something else as if she was trying to hide it a little.
“I…I can try. Yes, ma’am. What are you looking for exactly?”
She removed her Jackie Onassis-inspired sunglasses, revealing even more of her flawless skin, looking him in the eyes. The already apprehensive computer engineer froze when he saw the frigid blue, almost white colored irises. But they softened slightly like she was intrigued by his boyish behavior.
She blinked it away, though, her eyes becoming stern again.
They held a cunningness that could only mean trouble.
4
Typhoon Lagoon
Orlando, Florida
“Hank and Nicole have no idea what they’re missing,” Kane said, smiling wide as he looked at the bevy of waterslides.
“And we have no idea what we’re missing!” replied the very annoyed Frenchwoman by his side, her accent growing in strength with her annoyance. Olivia Dubois wanted nothing better than to be tanning next to Nicole on the beach, but instead, Kane coerced her into going to Disney World—more specifically Typhoon Lagoon waterpark.
“Come on Belle, it’s where dreams come true,” he’d said, using the pet name he came up with. It was the only time Olivia regretted her heritage.
She sneered at him. “So you’re telling me you’d rather play here than watch me tan on a beautiful beach in just the tiniest of bathing suits while sipping on beers with Hank and occasionally sneaking peeks at Nicole?”
Damn, he thought, didn’t think of that.
Kane’s face fell flat, and his cheeks reddened as he pictured the scene before him, but shook it away when he noticed Olivia staring at him, a smile forming. She loved to mention the fact that he had a small crush on Nicole when he’d first met her. But when he and Olivia had officially become an item, she even admitted to having a girl crush on the Swede.
“Who doesn’t think she’s magnifique?” Olivia said when he told her, making an overly generous hourglass shape with her hands. She even went as far as flicking her eyebrows up a couple times, teasing him further.
He shrugged off her proposal. “As long as you come down the slides with me, I’m okay with missing the ‘T and A’ show.”
Kane grinned as she turned away. “That is…” she stopped almost losing a flip-flop, facing back towards her boyfriend. She threw her hands up, waiting for him to finish, “…I’ll be content with missing the show…until we get back to the hotel room.”
“You know something, Jeremy,” she said, hands on hips, thrusting them to the right, “you really know how to sweep a woman off her feet.”
She smiled again and started left around the enormous wave pool. It was one of the largest in the world, reaching over ten feet in depth in some places. Olivia had no interest in it since she was only five-two. Kane, however, would easily clear the six-foot waves with his six-foot-six frame. Yes, over a foot separated them from each other.
They continued hand-in-hand, heading for the first slide they could find. It was a decent walk too. Typhoon Lagoon was a huge place and impressed the hell out of Kane. Then, he saw a bar and screeched to a halt, ordering him and Olivia a couple of frozen daiquiris.
“Cheers, sweet cheeks,” Kane said, clinking his plastic cup against Olivia’s.
“Santé, you big lug.”
Kane’s eyebrows creased. “Where’d you hear that?”
Olivia shrugged. “Hank’s been helping me with some Kane-centered American insults. He thought they’d help when you annoyed me.” She then laughed at his hanging open mouth, patting his cheek as she walked by. “Come, let’s see this Humunga Kowabunga.”
Kane smiled and followed along, thoroughly enjoying his drink. “Humunga Kowabunga…sort of sounds like when we—”
She whirled on him. “If you’re going to turn the name of a family waterslide into a sex joke, please don’t. I can only take so many in one day’s time.”
Kane looked down at his watch. “But it’s only noon.”
“Exactly!” she hissed, slapping his shoulder, making him spill a little of his drink.
“Ugh, party foul.” He licked it from his fingers. “You should know better Belle. We Americans take our alcohol very seriously.”
She smiled again. “Especially at these prices!”
They laughed it off and continued around the wave pool, eventually passing a section of kiddie slides and other activities.
“Ketchakiddee Creek,” Olivia said, carefully pronouncing the title. “Cute name.”
“Don’t even try,” Kane said in between slurps. “They don’t take too kindly to grown-ups splashing around in the kid zone.”
Before Olivia could ask why he knew that, Kane pointed to another small tiki bar, already finished with his drink. “Round two?”
Olivia shrugged, slurped down the rest of her own drink and shambled over. She wasn’t nearly as big as Kane and had a much weaker tolerance to the liquor-infused beverages. But they were on vacation, and the CIA was paying for everything.
What the hell? she thought, accepting the even bigger drink.
“You trying to get me drunk?” she asked, half-joking.
“Are you trying to say that I’d intentionally get you schnockered and take advantage of you?” His acting job was perfect, making her shoulders sag a little. “Because if you are…” He tilted his head a little and shrugged his shoulders, sucking down the extra-large drink, revealing his flawless performance, something he’d honed while in the CIA. You needed to act the part in certain situations when out in the field.
“God,” she said, stamping her foot, “you and your drama skills are so insufferable sometimes. It’s like you majored in theater or something.”
“I did,” he said, continuing forward. “They had us take acting classes right when I joined up with the company. Instructors said I was a natural at lying.” He laughed at the last part, but Olivia didn’t.
He stopped and reached a hand out. “But I don’t lie to those I care about.”
She blushed in the summer sun and accepted the offered paw of a hand.
“Let’s find that slide so you can finally get your jollies off.”
Kane smiled, holding back another joke, saving it for later.
You’ve got time. It’s only noon…
As they neared their destination Kane thought back to the first time he and Olivia shared that ‘moment.’ It was the first time he saved her life.
They were on the steps of a stone pyramid in Teotihuacán, being attacked by living golem-made serpents. The snakes were the size of Hummer limos and were slithering up after them.
Olivia tripped, twisting her ankle in the process. As the nearest snake closed in, about to consume her, Kane leapt over her prone form and landed in between her and the beast.
He acted like a hero from the movies and jammed his rifle into its mouth, pinning it open. Then he swiftly drew his twin Desert Eagle handguns and unloaded them into the back of its throat.
Kane looked down at his still-healing left hand. It had been crushed later, in D.C., while chasing the mastermind behind the mercs, his old army teammate, John Frost. Their Jeep flipped, mangling his hand in the process, ending his dual-wielding days. His hand still ached, having just gotten the cast off, but it was a livable pain. He was alive after all.
Unlike Dr. Boyd…
It hurt him to think of Hank’s dad as dead and gone, but he was. They couldn’t bring him back, but at least they got the bastard that shot him. Frost eventually killed himself, accidentally stepping in front of a train outside Washington. He freaked when Hank showed off his…abilities.
When Hank’s emotions are off-the-charts, he can summon the fires of Atlantis. It resembles the Greek fire that’s been fantasized in lore and myth, covering his entire body if he chooses. Most of the time he wills it to only wrap around his hands, using it when he needs to beat the shit out of someone.
And melt their faces.
Hank’s powers were tricky, though, only being easily conjured when he’s in contact with an Atlantean relic made of their signature metal, orichalcum.
Which is few and far between.
They have only found two such objects so far.
The first was actually found five years ago by Nicole and her late husband, Tomas. They dug it up in Spain, where it was quickly whisked away by Frost and his men. Nicole’s husband, along with the rest of their team were killed. Nicole was left to die too, lying beneath the body of her Tomas.
The second Atlantean artifact was a sword found in a burial chamber on an island off the coast of Campeche, Mexico. Hank has since named it Elvis as it resembles the fictional elven swords from The Lord of the Rings. Legolas’ short sword in particular.
“We’re here.”
Kane stumbled, caught off guard. He looked around and couldn’t find her.
“Jeremy?”
He spun and found her behind him, motioning to the stairs nearby. Blinking, he focused on her face, seeing a look of worry.
“You okay?”
He quickly nodded, lying. “Fine, just thinking of the first time I had to save your sweet ass from death.”
He watched as the hands-on-hips display of displeasure repeated itself.
“And of everything else too.”
Olivia’s irritation immediately subsided. She knew how hard things have been on all of them lately. This vacation was supposed to cleanse them of that. Only Ben and Todd had refused to go on theirs. Ben had been clipped by a bullet, but quickly recovered, and Todd wasn’t even physically involved. He didn’t even know any of them besides Kane at the time.
“Come on,” she said, beckoning him forward. “Let’s have some fun.”
Kane gave her a soft smile and followed, squeezing her butt a few times as she ascended the steps in front of him. It was a relatively short climb to the top of the Humunga Kowabunga slides, giving Kane ample opportunity to cheer himself up. He may have felt saddened before, but nothing quite cheered him up like teasing the crap out of Olivia.
As they climbed, Kane suddenly got a strange feeling that they were being watched, but the only person he could find looking at them with anything more than a glance was an on-duty lifeguard. She was stationed at the top the slides, organizing the mixture of kids and adults.
He usually wouldn’t have thought of it as anything odd, they were supposed to be watching everyone. Disney was really up to keeping everyone safe around their various parks—waterparks included.
Just then, Olivia’s and his “sunglasses” pinged, stopping them halfway up the steps. They moved out of the way of the others following behind them and quickly answered the communiqué. Each of them gently brushed the right temple with a finger, unlocking and activating the NVS software.
“I didn’t send an agent to Algeria,” Kane said, dumbfounded.
He looked back up to the lifeguard, her eyes never leaving him. The fluorescent blue and shimmering silver eyeshadow, chopped black pixie-cut, and multitude of earrings made her stand out like a sore thumb. Disney didn’t allow that kind of makeup and jewelry on their cast members.
But her eyes were what gave him the feeling of dread. Her blue eyes made the back of his mind scream for a weapon.
5
Marriott Stanton Hotel
South Beach, Miami, Florida
The gun goes off in my face, but thankfully the bullet zings past my right ear, punching harmlessly into the sand behind me. As I clutch the assassin’s wrists and shove up, I feel an unworldly resistance.
Damn, he’s strong, I think, trying desperately to disarm him in the process, swiping at the gun. I have an ace up my sleeve, though, but decide now is not the time. The public definitely isn’t ready to see that.
Instead, a solid punch connects with the guy’s right temple, coming from a smaller, yet insanely effective fist. Nicole slugs the shooter, still holding her bathing suit top in place with her right hand, keeping it from flailing about with the incoming ocean breeze.
The blue-eyed assailant teeters slightly giving me an opening. Kane’s training takes over, and I attempt to judo flip him, only executing the move at half its intended effectiveness. Instead of just him getting flung into the hammock, we both do, tripping over each other like a bad line-dancing duo.
We topple into the rope swing and immediately get slung to the ground. It’s exactly what happened to me earlier, only he’s under me. I think I have the edge on him as the gun finally goes flying, but boy am I wrong.
Like the weapon, I go sailing through the air too, thrown. I land a good ten feet away, further down the beach, shielding my eyes from the airborne puff of sand. Mr. Flower Shirt stands with zero difficulties, having no signs of pain or discomfort from Nicole’s knockout blow.
He takes a step towards me but stops.
“Hey, buddy,” a voice says from behind him, making him turn and pause his attack. “Think we can settle this another way?”
I lean around the imposter waiter and see the last thing I expected. Nicole has let her bikini top fall back into place without securing the back of it. If another current of salty air rips through here, she’ll be exposing herself to the world for sure. Regardless, her display has caught the attention of a few other people besides me, including our foe.
Understanding her motives, I leap to my feet, seeing her comb her hands through her blonde hair. She’s trying to reel the waiter in deeper and deeper, doing her best to give me ample time to retaliate. A few months ago I would’ve been dying after four steps through the soft powder, but now, after some of the most intense Special Forces training anyone could go through, I’m barely breaking a sweat.
Her distraction pays off, and I dive into him before he can turn, sending him headfirst into one of the palms holding up my hammock. An audible crack can be heard as I drive him into its base with all my strength. Only, it wasn’t his skull that cracked, it was the damn tree.
Holy shit!
I again jump to my feet, but instead of continuing on the counterattack, I turn to Nicole, doing my best not to gawk at her in the process. Shaking off the last of the alcohol’s effects, I quickly grab our gear, running west, up the beach, making for the hotel. This isn’t a fight we can win without our weapons.
Our conventional weapons anyways.
Doing her best to cover herself while running, Nicole keeps up with me without issue, ignoring the fact that she’s basically out there. She’s just reminding me and everyone else why I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.
Sue me for being proud.
“What do we do?” she asks with not the least bit of embarrassment or concern over her current state. “This isn’t some normal hit or anything. That guy wasn’t even bleeding after he hit the palm.”
Another reason why I’m so lucky. Her attitude during moments like this.
“No idea,” I say, “but we need to lose him in the streets and regroup with the others as soon as we can.” As I say the last part, my bag begins to chime. I reach in and yank out my NVS4’s, slipping them on.
Before this model was given to us, I had to wear the previous version twenty-four-seven in public, keeping my gold-bronze eye color hidden from the world. Now, I’m wearing a specially made set of contacts that do the same thing. The orichalcum swirling through my eyes is something I’m going to have to live with forever, but the public eye doesn’t need to see it. Ever.
Nicole follows suit and gets the same message I do, an email from Ben.
“Read aloud,” I tell my glasses as we continue our run, reaching the path between the beach and the rear of the Marriott Stanton resort. It’s a gorgeous hotel, costing what I consider an untold fortune to stay there, but we aren’t paying for it, so whatever.
I stumble a bit when Morgan Freeman starts speaking to me. It’s a feature that Todd hacked off of another GPS app. Apparently, he updated my pair without telling me. Before it was just a rude sounding British woman.
To Indy, Marion, Beast, Belle, and Q:
I shake my head at the ridiculous codenames Kane came up with. He was super paranoid that someone could eventually hack into our network even though Todd assured him it wasn’t possible. There were reported leaks inside the CIA all the time, and this was his way of keeping our identities secret.
Possible danger in the desert. Will report back when, and if, confirmed. Keep watch for anything suspicious. A “friend” of Beast’s has shown up here. Be careful.
It’s signed with a simple, M.
Indiana Jones, Beauty and the Beast, and James Bond—all present and accounted for. Thanks, Kane—I mean, Beast. But the message is more concerning than the names. It seems Ben is having his own problems with an unwelcomed guest in Algeria. Kane doesn’t have any friends in the CIA that are permitted to help us, or even speak to us for that matter.
