John soared over the Federal Reserve, twirling within the burning smoke caused by the explosion. And like a comet from space, he came crashing down to the outdoor parking lot, causing many armored cars to tumble over like dominoes. Lying in a crater the size of a city block, he gathered what strength he had left to stagger up to his feet. Dizzy. Trembling knees. Intense pain. Walking like a zombie, he got as far as the entrance gate before collapsing to the ground. Winded. He sobbed like a baby, steaming with aggravation and panic. Fumbling through his pockets, he found his cell phone and dialed Grandpa. It went straight to voicemail. Redialed. Same result. After several repeats, nothing changed. The Angelite had ruined his plan. None of the loot had been recovered. His team disbanded. Grandpa hadn’t even called to confirm if the mission was a success. He felt abandoned. “Grandpa... that traitor!!” he whined. “Who needs him?! All he did was hold me back! Blame me for his blunders! My plans were ruined because of him. YOU HEAR ME OLD FOOL?!!!! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!!!! THE HELL WITH YOU!!!!”
As he limped and hobbled his way to the street, he heard his name being shouted from yards away. A tall suit ran toward him, holding a firearm. Was it a cop out-of-network planning to finish him off? No. It was a worried Saxon
Davis. “What in the name of John Wayne is going on here?” he asked, rushing to aid his number one officer.
“OHHHHH – THANK GOD IT’S YOU, SIR!!!” John exaggerated in a distressed tone. “I barely escaped with my life! They’re all gone, sir…my team was murdered. We…failed…to protect this city.”
Saxon shockingly stared at the upper half of the Reserve engulfed in flames. “Who did this?” he sternly asked.
“The NYPD! They got organized. We’ve all been hoodwinked! My team and I gathered some last-minute Intel about officers looking for retribution over the prison massacre.” John gulped. “I would’ve called you, but we had to move quickly. They were planning to cripple the city’s finance and hold Goldberg responsible. I had to stop them...I tried to prevent this from happening…I’m sorry, sir.” Tears ran down his face while overacting with sobs.
Normally, Saxon would’ve believed his every word. However, he sensed something wasn’t right. John’s story seemed vague, not so believable. “What sources did you use?” he asked. “How could you’ve come to such a conclusion so fast?”
While in a discombobulated state, John’s mind control power had weakened. He grabbed the side of his head, pretending to have a migraine. But
no matter how hard he pushed, Saxon couldn’t fall under his spell. “Look around you, sir!!” he protested. “Do you think I’m making this up?!! All these officers are dead – AND FOR WHAT?!!!! Those cretins at City Hall will brush this
under the rug and take even more from us like they’ve been doing for the past five years! Goldberg will continue to make us look bad until he has complete control and that won’t happen until he gets the city to turn on us! Look what happened to the cops from the 14th. This won’t be the last time you’ll hear about a cop going on an insane killing spree!”
“…A cop?” Saxon questioned. “Autopsy reports confirmed that the
officers were butchered in their cells, but the evidence was inconclusive on who committed the act. They never said anything about it being an inside job. How did you know it was a cop who killed them? WERE YOU THERE?!”
John trembled in frustration, not saying a word. Not since the death of his wife had Saxon felt such heartache. This was the worst betrayal he could’ve ever imagined. “Gina was right,” he gasped. “Why’d you kill them, John?”
Next to the detective was a fallen bank guard with their firearm still in the holster. He couldn’t trick his boss any longer. Only one option left to take. He dropped to his knees and begged for forgiveness. His bottom lip quivered. “P-pl- please…d-do-don’t kill me, sir!! I didn’t know what else to do!! I felt like I was
f-f-fa-failing this city…I was their sworn defender…forgive me.”
Saxon didn’t know how to react. He thought John was demented and needed help. He went to touch the detective’s shoulder, assuring him that everything would be okay. All of sudden, John popped up with his hand wrapped around the gun.
BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!! Saxon’s white shirt got drenched in blood. He stared at the holes planted in his chest, leaking red before his eyes. Losing feeling below the neck as he dropped to the ground. Taking in final breaths, his faded eyesight while watched John drop the gun by his feet and hobble away without a care.
The veteran then heard a sorrowful yell. Shivering from a rush of cold wind that brushed over his body, his finest officer had emerged onto the scene. “Bless you, Gina,” he whispered, followed by a long exhale. His head tilted sideways as his life force vanished.
Refusing to lose faith, Gina’s teary eyes looked into his aura. No glowing color. Performing CPR at rapid speed wouldn’t help. His body gave out. “Not him...please don’t take him yet,” she frowned. After their ugly spat, Saxon trusted her after all. She owed him. With untapped power in her possession, she hoped for some way to revive him as Pastor Goode had done for her. Maybe she can somehow summon a warrior angel on her own? Perhaps transfer her powers onto him? Either way, she had to work fast. The veteran’s stellar career couldn’t end like this, being gunned down by a coward. “Lord. You need to guide me on this.”
She closed her hands and focused on healing. Shortly after, underneath his bloody shirt developed a golden coating, sparkling under the midnight stars. Glowing orbs flew around like butterflies, populating by the second, fluttering in a circular motion. Like honey flowing from a beehive, the orbs poured all over his body and then seeped into his skin. During this supernatural transformation,
a large hole opened from the night sky, shining a blinding light down directly on the veteran. Just then, a warrior angel zoomed through the atmosphere and plunged into his body.
Flowing blood retracted back into his body as his wounds sealed shut. Limbs and tissue got consumed by the coating, shining off his skin brighter than glow sticks at a rave. And just like that, the light evaporated. The hole in the sky closed. “What just happened?” Gina gasped as the orbs fluttered away.
Saxon opened his eyes. He looked up at Gina drying her eyes. “Thank God,” she
Gina helped the veteran to his feet and rested him against a busted armored car. Getting his thoughts together, Saxon was still unsure as to what just happened. “I must be getting Alzheimer’s because I don’t have a clue how I got here. Did I drive? Did you bring me here?” Gina couldn’t answer. “Forgive me, Vasquez…I wasn’t myself. With Beverly – my drinking – John and…I owe you my deepest –”
“Stop it, sir,” she interrupted. “It was wrong for me to put you in such a difficult spot. It’s I who owe you an apology.”
“But, I came anyway. And I owe you my life.”
“After what you’ve done for me over the years, I’d say we’re even.” “Fair enough.” He looked around the lot. “Where’s Hart?”
“He got away.”
“Why’d you let him go?”
“It was either getting him or saving you. A no-brainer.” “Then we have to go after him.”
“You’ve been through enough. Rest up first and then -”
“I can’t. You warned me about him and I should’ve listened. Now I want to
see that son-of-a-bitch suffer.”
“It’s not that easy, sir. Hart’s too powerful to be put in a prison cell. Only I
can stop him.”
“What do you mean too powerful?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, sir. It’s better if I show you.” Gina swirled around the lot like a tornado and started gathering armored cars like groceries. Saxon shielded his eyes as he watched heavy winds, getting dizzy from the various colors spinning before him. He looked once the winds stopped and saw Gina dust off her hands next to a mountain of thrashed vehicles leaning like the Tower of Pisa.
Saxon’s quivering jaw made it hard for him to talk.“I am sober now, right?” he doubtfully asked. “That is you - Gina - in front of me, right? I’m not home on my couch drunk as a skunk, am I? Am I dreaming?!”
“You’re not dreaming, sir,” she assured. “Angels have blessed me with supernatural powers to protect the world from a demonic invasion. That’s how I was able to bring you back.”
“Bring back? What do you...?” Saxon touched the red on his shirt. Fresh blood. He then looked at his chest and caressed the healed bullet wounds. All he could do was gasp in amazement. “How long have you had these gifts?”
“About a week now,” she guessed. “How on Earth did this -”
“No time to explain. I got to find a way to get Hart and save Allie before–” “He’s got Alexandra?!”
“His soldiers do. They’ve sieged FBI Headquarters to spring a trap for me.
I got to get her out of there, but she made me promise to stop Hart first. He may know you’re still alive, so I suggest you lay low until this fight is over and –”
“Go after Hart. I’ll rescue Alexandra.”
“With all due respect, I don’t think that’s a good idea. John is the first of many demonic soldiers to come and he’s got that entire building filled with demonic-crazed cops who are ready to kill at the drop of a dime. They will gun you down at first sight and not think twice about it.”
“Vasquez. Do you doubt my ability as an officer? You may have youth and power on your side, but I’ve got years of strategic and tactical operations under my belt. Do you think I run the state police because of my good looks? I’m in charge because I’m the best. If I tell you I’m going to get your sister out, then trust me when I say that I’m going to get Alexandra out.”
Gina was proud to once again see the strong-willed captain she always
remembered. “Be careful,” she warned. “I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”
“Take your time,” replied Saxon. “I got this.”