Avarice Unfortunate Sons

This is the fourth and latest book in the Avarice saga. People have been asking me when will I release some more... so here we go. Don't expect these chapters to release swiftly. I have at this time of year lots of farm work and less sit down time. Enjoy.. I thank you all for reading my work.

*****

Perhaps those who had survived were indeed the unfortunate ones, for there was a perceived rest in death. The lines for war have been drawn in the sand. Will the Wolf Lord conquer and take Stephan's home and people as slaves, or can those who treasure freedom triumph and vengeance be delivered?

The refugees press on into the unknown desert, facing hardship and strife. While those among them mend their former rifts and learn to work together while seeking a sanctuary to begin again..

The chosen draw closer to their destinies, and an uncanny chance meeting ignites their purpose and cements their unity. As they learn of a misunderstood culture that they had vastly dismissed as primitive.

Carlos makes a home for himself at long last on the verges of society, with the scintillating Celeste, a woman he deeply respects and loves, yet he holds back. To be with her means that he is inextricably drawn further into the politics of the Bridge and the dangerous men who run it. Will he emerge victim or victor?

Can Xonereth find the meaning in the Oracle's test to return at last with an answer for his people, and the plight of all creation? The stakes are high, and time runs out.

*****

Into the Breach

The rusted iron grate was resting in place just as they had left it, and it was easily pushed aside. The maw of the shaft loomed ahead of the raiders darkly, the entrance into the lowest level of the Wolf Lord's domain.

Bennett pushed Nathan into the breach just ahead of him. "Stay close." He whispered hoarsely.

Nathan ducked down and entered. It felt strange for him to lead. He had no intention of straying too far from his master's protection. The shaft sloped gently downwards; it was not tall enough for a man to stand. With not a word exchanged between them, weapons at the ready, they headed into the engulfing darkness.

The raiders had all wrapped their boots in rags to further muffle the sound of their intrusion. There was no source of light in this tunnel, and they carried no torches. At times, they had to carefully grope their way along the metal corridor. The sensation this blackness wrought was claustrophobic. The walls were slick with condensation, and the air was thin. Bennett didn't remember these conditions the last time he was here. He wondered, had the enemy run so low on fuel that most of the fortress had gone dark, and even essentials like the ventilation were being shut down?

At the first intersection, Nathan paused briefly, trying to recall the way. He could feel Bennett's broad warmth behind him. Last time he was here, they were burdened by a gravely injured Sven and were being pursued.

Knowing that he was protected by a pair of expertly wielded machetes gave Nathan more confidence as he turned right. His own hand rested on his knife for extra reassurance. This shaft was larger, and Nathan could see a vague light emanating towards its end.

The fortress was unusually quiet. There was, however, a distinct, faraway hum of the diesel generator, though it seemed much quieter than before.

They made their way along this larger shaft. Where they could almost stand in its circumference, making their progress swifter. The end of this tunnel again terminated in a T Nathan chose to go left. There was still very little light to see by.

Bennett watched Nathan's slender black clad silhouette before him, his men advancing behind. Being a large man, he had to be doubly careful to move silently. The space was too tightly confined for his size. He had hoped for this night for many months, and part of him had never expected this invasion to come. Yet here he was at last ready to strike.

The tunnel began to narrow again, and they had to crawl the remaining distance to the entry point. Bennett could remember this particular location from their exodus. It had been a struggle to maneuver Sven through this area.

They came to a wire grate, which overlooked the storeroom where they had hidden before their escape. Unfortunately, the grate had been repaired. But Bennett had expected this. He signaled to Todd to pass up the bolt cutters and began to cut the mesh one thick wire at a time. It was tedious and tight work; there was very little space for him to maneuver. The sound of each individual wire being cut echoed loudly in the small metal room. He would make one cut, then listen and wait. At this critical phase in the invasion, they could not afford to be heard.

Under the cover of darkness, Pig and the five boys ran down the slope toward the fortress. Ready to sow the seeds of chaos.

Danny was excited as he clutched the battered military issue rifle to his chest. As long as he could remember, he had always loved to shoot. The Austeyr he carried tonight was a far superior rifle compared to the ragged collection of guns he had learned to shoot as a boy. He loved the way this particular weapon felt in his hands, the weight of it. The short, compact stock made it easy to maneuver in tight spaces. It was a weapon designed for practicality and purpose.

When Danny took up a firearm, it was as though all the distractions of the world ceased to exist. It was just him and the gun. An inner quiet would envelop him, and he felt entirely at peace. Shooting with accuracy was easy, and he had shown uncanny skill even as a small boy.

Tonight, he would kill his first man. He didn't know quite how he felt about that. Sure, he had played at soldier with his brothers and his friends growing up; tonight, though, it was going to get real. The excitement of the mission somewhat deafened Danny's sense of morality. The ones that lived down there were the bad guys after all. He had heard the stories relayed by these raiders of what they did to their captives. The raven-haired youth also longed to live in that stronghold with every convenience he could imagine.

Pig had guided the boys to a spot where they could overlook the fortress and take up position on the targets. As Bennett had indicated, there were very few sentries on duty. The keen-eyed Danny could only make out three watchmen.

"Should I begin counting?" Louis asked Pig impatiently. He wanted to do well on this, his first mission.

"Give 'em a minute," the ugly, scarred man replied, as he squatted down to remain unseen behind some low brush. His one good eye leered out from under the dirty piece of rag he always kept tied over his empty eye socket.

Owen and Barrel were also taking up position on either side of Danny. Rifles trained on each target, waiting patiently to begin the countdown. Danny sighted in his rifle on the black clad figure patrolling the front gate. The world went quiet about him as he concentrated on his task. He knew it was important that this man fell, and Danny felt confident he could make the shot, even possibly get the other men if Owen and Barrel failed.

The grate cut the men entered the small square room. Where mostly domestic supplies were stored, all stacked neatly on metal shelving. The door to the adjoining corridor was not locked. Bennett opened it quietly and peered into the dimly lit hallway. There was not a soul present; the air was thin here as well, making breathing labored. It was obvious that this lower level had been vacated.

Bennett signed to the others with a cryptic hand signal. The raiders had been together for so long that they had developed their own silent language. Gareth flanked Bennett, gripping his sharp axe, with Dwayne close at his shoulder, bow taught.

Bennett then looked at Nathan and pointed up the hallway. Nathan knew his master was asking if that was the direction they must go. Nathan nodded in the affirmative, and the men silently filed out of the storeroom. Wyatt, Murray, and Josh, the least experienced of the men in the rear, were being led by Todd.

Josh didn't like being placed as rearguard; he wanted very much to use this chance to show Bennett what he was made of. He had promised himself that tonight he would prove his worth and move up in the ranks of the raiding party. He was hoping for a choice of the women that he was sure this fort housed.

They moved silently in unison along the hallway to an area that was brightly illuminated. They still hadn't encountered a soul.

It was then they heard a call from somewhere behind them. The gravelly voice of an older gent. "Henry, is that you?"

The raiding party turned about, but they could not see the owner of that voice. Whoever it was obviously hadn't seen them either, and was not yet far enough along the corridor to do so.

Before Bennett could react and dole out orders, Josh broke from the group and darted down the passageway in a headlong sprint and was lost in the darkness.

The others did not move a muscle; every man's eyes engaged their leaders in silent request. It was taboo to break ranks on a raid; the senior men knew that. Bennett's left cheek twitched with a barely suppressed fury. His blue eyes gleamed malevolently in the dimness. A series of thuds came to their ears, followed by a strangled wet sound. Bennett was ready to just let Josh go as collateral damage. He hadn't followed orders, and he was not jeopardizing this raid for the recklessness of one man.

Bennett made to turn about and signal the wide-eyed Nathan to continue forward when he heard the sound of feet behind them. It was the blond-headed apparition of Josh, blood splattered and grinning crazily from ear to ear. He held a disembodied head clutched by its short gray hair.

Bennett gazed at his errant warrior with a look of molten fury, but this was not the moment for retribution. Though he would be sure to make an example of Josh later. With an impatient flourish of his black gloved hand, he ordered the young man back to the rear.

Josh was disappointed; he had expected high praise for eliminating this threat. He tossed his grisly trophy down on the metal walkway with a thud, and it rolled away into the dark. He had now killed his first man, and he had to admit it was far easier than he had expected it to be.

Nathan again went forward. He was almost nauseous with fear. He could feel beads of sweat breaking out on his brow and upper lip. His heart was pattering in his chest, and each tiny noise infused in him a new wave of panic. He wanted his revenge, but of this place and its denizens he was deathly afraid. He crept forward on silent feet, knowing with certainty where he was.

They came to a set of metal open rung stairs. Nathan pointed upward toward the next level. The level that contained the prison and the kitchens. The youth shuddered at the memory as his feet began the ascent. The rest of the men behind him.

On reaching the top of the staircase, Bennett pulled Nathan protectively behind him, ordering him to remain in the rear. He would no longer need the boy to guide him; he now knew exactly where he was.

The air quality was vastly better on this floor, but the lighting was still sparse. They stuck to the shadows as they moved toward the barracks. Bennett was feeling quite confident that they would easily take the fortress; it did seem as though it was almost deserted.

Unexpectedly, as they were passing, a door opened to their right. In the door frame was an Asian woman in her mid-thirties, with long dark hair, wearing a navy pencil skirt, a white blouse, and court heels. When faced with the raiders, she attempted to scream.

Will, who was closest, immediately reacted and, in a practiced move, stifled her warning shout with his hand, dragging her back into the room from whence she had come. The others paused while he bound and gagged the woman; she put up quite a fight.

As the armorer restrained her flailing hands, he gazed around. The room was orderly, clean, and a proper home. Something Will had forgotten the experience of. There were comfortable furnishings, a soft floor rug in bold blue and white, and a shelf lined with books. This is what they fought for: a better life, and today, if all went to plan, they would at last have it. No more sleeping on bare earth, living in filth, and surviving hand to mouth. Perhaps coffee, good food, and all the real cigarettes they could smoke awaited them?

The woman under his grip squirmed as Will checked her bindings to ensure she was well secured. She was very pretty, and Will hoped that there would be more just like her in this compound. He had also noticed the flash of gold on her wedding finger as she scratched and clawed. Married or not, he genuinely hoped that she would be allotted to him as a war prize.

Once she had been subdued, they continued forward. A lone guard ambled into view, a half-smoked cigarette hanging from his lips, but the man never saw the threat. Dwayne, now in front of the party, raised his longbow, and the soft twang of an expertly placed arrow sounded as the unsuspecting man crumpled to the walkway dead.

They were drawing close to the barracks and the officers' lounge. Bennett felt incredibly tense as he neared this location. This is where the real fighting would begin. He hoped that he could eliminate the men in this area before they sounded the alarm, and he had discussed this part of the operation with his men extensively.

They crept along the hallway toward the officers' lounge. Nathan, as instructed, hung back in the shadows, relieved he did not have to be involved in the heaviest fighting. Bennett didn't expect many men to be in the lounge or in the barracks. If Lothar had indeed gone to war, Bennett was sure he would have taken his best soldiers and all of the high-ranked officers with him.

As they approached the partially opened doorway of the lounge, they paused, flattening their backs to the wall. Bennett was in front with Gareth at his shoulder. The sounds of cards being slapped on a table top were apparent, and the jovial banter of multiple men exchanging bets and boasts.

"I'll wage my next coffee ration on this hand," one man was clearly heard to say. Bennett grinned; it looked to him as though he would never get to make good on that bet.

Bennett took a quick peek around the partially opened door, hoping the man who was sitting facing him didn't notice. The soldier, though, was engrossed in his hand. There were four men at the table, all in uniform, and they were armed with.9 mm pistols holstered on their belts. What Bennett didn't know was how many men, if any, were in the barracks just up the hallway. It didn't matter; the decider of the battle would be fought here.

Bennett signed his orders to his men. They all took up their arms. Nathan, Todd, and the three recruits were to wait in the hallway and intervene if anyone escaped the room, ran from the barracks, or if someone inadvertently wandered past. If they could prevent the alarm being raised for as long as possible, it would give the raiders the greatest chance of a smooth takeover.

Josh had heartily wished to go in with the others. The exclusion had irked him. He fingered his blood-smeared machete and tried to hide his simmering resentment.

The raiders poured into the dimly lit room, a formidable wall of black leather, fur, hide, and steel. The man nearest the door was instantly mown down by a sweep of one of Bennett's twin machetes, which made contact with the side of his neck, burying the wide blade in his spine. Blood sprayed, and Bennett, with his superior strength, tore the blade from his target, who lay convulsing on the floor.

The remaining three card players sprang into action. The blond-haired man who sat directly across from the doorway pulled his pistol on the leather and steel-clad giant. The room reverberated with gunfire. His aim went awry, as Gareth, seeing the threat, batted him hard with the flat of his axe, sending the man sprawling onto his back. Another swing of the heavy weapon neutralized his threat.

Bennett felt the bullet that was meant for his head graze his right cheek as he sidestepped the shot. His fingers came away from his face, daubed in blood. He didn't cease his assault; however, injuries and near misses were a common event in his life. He was already wrestling with another of the men, trying to divest him of his blade that was seeking his heart.

Dwayne skillfully employed his bow from the doorway as the others fought. He shot one of the defenders dead as they grappled with Will. The startled armorer looked up as the quivering arrow embedded itself in the man's chest just inches away from his own face. The man beneath him ceased to fight.

Gareth rounded on the remaining man who was grappling with Bennett. He battered his opponent mercilessly with the heavy two-handed axe, beating the knife from his grip. The bloody skirmish was over in moments. The four defenders lay dead on a floor slick with blood.

There was a commotion in the hallway. Bennett's neck snapped around, his blue eyes wild in his blood-spattered visage as he gripped his weapons tightly. Dwayne, who was halfway in the door, turned and let an arrow fly. The projectile missed its mark and its iron-tipped point scraped along the checker plate steel with a shrill metallic scream.

As instructed, Todd, Josh, Murray, and Wyatt attempted to chase down the lone man. However, they didn't catch him until he had managed to sound the warning. The alarm rang out in the fortress, deafening in the confining hallways.

Bennett at once bounded like a coiled panther from the room, running at speed toward the barracks. His steel-shod boots echoed hollowly on the walkway. By the barracks, the group of raiders collided with three men who had appeared to be sleeping. They were half-dressed and poorly armed. They had not expected to be attacked, secure in the knowledge that their stronghold was impenetrable. That complacency was to be their undoing; they were mown down with brutal efficiency in frenzied moments.

Louis was beginning his countdown as the boys eyed their targets on the walls. Pig was just a spectator, as his eyesight wasn't good enough to shoot anything reliably.

A shrill siren sounded down below, its blaring call to action galvanizing the men on the walls. Danny didn't need to be told as Louis' unfinished countdown faded to quiet; he sighted the man on the gate and squeezed the Austeyr's trigger. The man dropped as Danny sought his next mark. Other shots rang out as the rest of the boys peppered the compound from above. Danny hit his next man in the back as he was running along the east wall to the stairs. He tumbled ingloriously many feet below and lay motionless in the sand.

Barrel had missed his mark, and the guard was fleeing, dodging the prevailing gunfire. Danny hit him in the leg, but he escaped.

Once they were sure the walls were unmanned, to the wails of the alarm, they moved from their concealment on the upper slopes toward the gate. Here they would wait and hope that Bennett and his men had successfully subdued the inhabitants.

Merton had been in the dispensary when he first heard the commotion. He had been as instructed by Victor, inventorying the precious medicines and making sure all the liquid antibiotics were properly refrigerated. He went toward the source of the sound and took a peek into the hallway. It didn't take too much imagination before he realized that the fortress had somehow been overrun. If he didn't believe it at first, the sound of gunshots was enough to convince him.

He shut the door and locked it from the inside with fumbling panic. Fortunately, the door to the medicine dispensary was built to withstand any attempts at breaking it down. Just as many of the doors were on the more important areas of the fortress, such as Lothar's and Victor's own private quarters, and the science lab.