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Head over to the Attic to check it out!
Check out some of Ellen Waara's Beautiful poetry in her ongoing collection, Destinies. available in The Attic at http://attic-productions.com/destinies
The world may tip at any moment. But now that doesn't matter.
Clare Furniss
Artemis Fowl and the Rise of Angels, Chapter 14
The ride was silent and maddening. The Lear Jet's upgraded engine didn't even provide enough white noise for Juliet to sleep. It reminded her of her training with Madame Ko, when the trainees were made to stay in a room of absolute silence. To most of the trainees, it seemed like heaven, until they got in there. One at a time they walked in, and one at a time, whether it took twenty, thirty, or forty minutes, they all slowly went insane.
Your brain doesn't like absolute silence, it's used to some white noise being filtered through it at all times. Enough time without any sound, and your brain will start to make sounds for you to hear. Sometimes, it will make things for you to see to go along with the things you hear that aren't there. You will hallucinate. This is a fact that lead to an odd maxim being repeated around the academy that year: silence corrupts, and absolute silence corrupts absolutely.
Right now, Juliet would have welcomed the hallucinations, if only to give her something to do.
Usually, pre-op, Juliet wouldn't notice the boredom. Her adrenaline would be up, focus sharpened, she would be mentally block out anything around her, except the mission at hand. Usually, however, did not consist of a ten-hour flight to Brazil from Dublin. She remained focused and cued up for the first hour in a half, while Artemis and Marcus played chess. Around hour two, she started to lose focus, and Marcus got bored of losing. He sparred with Constantine for a little bit, in a Wing-Chung form that required both participants to stand still while their arms intertwined and struck at each other at blinding speed in an attempt to land a blow. By the fourth hour, though, everybody but her and her brother were asleep, and nobody even had the common courtesy to snore.
“The quiet is maddening, isn't it?” Butler asked suddenly, quiet enough not to wake the passengers.
“Huh?” Juliet wasn't paying attention.
“This calm before the storm, I always thought it was the worst part of an operation. During the action you're adrenaline is up, blood coursing through your veins. You don't even have time to think, you just act on instinct on training. But these long flights, when you have time to reflect on the fact that you might not be on the flight home – those really great on the nerves.”
Juliet didn't know how to respond – she had never heard her brother speak like this before an operation. Even before she lived the life, when they were just brother and sister, he never was one to talk about feelings and philosophy. He wasn't an “Oprah” kinda guy.
Though Juliet was surprised how he suddenly started pontificating, she was more surprised by what he said next.
“I think I'm going to retire after this.”
“What?” Juliet found her voice.
“This is my last op, Juliet. I don't want to do it anymore.”
Juliet jumped up from her seat next to him. Standing, she was at eye-level with him. “What do you mean you don't want to do it anymore? You can't just quit! You're the best there is!”
Butler smiled at his fiery sister. “Jules, I've died twice, been mauled by a troll twice, I've blown up four times, shot seven, and stabbed and cut more times than I can remember. I've killed, too, countless, nameless men who were under trained, unprofessional, or just unlucky.” He looked at Constantine, who was lolling in his sleep, mouth agape. “I wanna be around for the people I love – you, Artemis, Holly, and the baby.”
He stretched his massive arms. “After this, you can call me Uncle Dom.”
Juliet couldn't believe her ears. Uncle Dom? Her brother? A civilian? “What about Artemis' security?”
“Oh I'll still consult from time to time, update the Manor's systems every now and then, but I'm retiring from active duty”
Juliet couldn't believe it, her brother, Butler, a civilian. It just didn't seem possible. The end of an era, something you always knew was coming, but could never fathom cause it never seemed real in the first place.
“Maybe I'll start gardening.” Butler mused to himself. Juliet's eyes widened, before she saw the glint in his eye, the cock-eyed grin. He was joking! Butler never joked. As the realization of everything hit her, set back down. Everything was going to be different, wasn't it?
She shook her head. No. Everything was already different, it had been changing ever since Artemis got his memory back. Things had become tamer, less adventures, less death threats. It all happened so smoothly, so naturally, she hadn't even noticed. The presence of the odd adventure, the world-saving scheme here and there had helped fill the lull, and now it was all quieting down. Juliet wasn't sure she disliked it either.
She looked around at the cabins inhabitants, Artemis sleeping gracefully, with a concerned look on his face – even in his sleep he never stopped thinking. Marcus' head, in contrast to Artemis, lolled on his shoulders, his mouth hanging open in a dumb gape. Constantine looked peaceful. Lines of worry had been drained from his face, but he didn't smile. He seemed perfectly enraptured in whatever dream his subconscious was enveloped in.
A movement caught Juliet's eye, and she looked down – the forefinger on his right hand was twitching, like he was pulling an invisible trigger.
Korea, 1953.
Constantine approached the compound, clad in black body armor decades ahead of anything anyone had at the time. He had a massive revolver in each hand, one nickel-plated, and the other was iron-black. A soldier jumped out from behind a truck, in a blink of an eye Constantine swung up his left hand and a flash and a bang mowed the nameless man down. Constantine's face showed no remorse for this, yet know shout or sound of pleasure escaped him either. Death was not something he took pleasure in, it was strictly business.
Several more soldiers streamed out of the compound and various barracks and bunkers around it until the air resonated with the sound of gunfire. Constantine dispatched each one in an efficient manner, and eight more fell before they could fire their rifles. The next three actually managed to fire at him, but his reflexes, trained in The Pit and honed over almost half a century of war, were faster than his opponents aim, and not a bullet grazed him.
The air seemed to be exploding around him, and it sounded like a war was happening around various other parts of the compound – his friends were kicking up quite a ruckus.
He lifted the revolver in his right hand and fired at another soldier who seemed to be shaking in his boots. The gun clicked. The magazine was empty.
Constantine saw the realization in the man's head, that he might have a chance to succeed where his comrades had failed, to avenge their deaths. The Angel shook his head at him, not in pleading, but in warning. His warning was not headed, however, and as soon as the soldier raised his gun, his head exploded in a mess of blood and gray-matter and a disgusting squelch.
Constantine lowered his head to stop the blood and gore from getting in his eyes, then looked up to the mountain, a little over a mile away, where he knew Bane lay prone with a sniper rifle longer than him. He raised his gun to his forehead. And a puff of mound of earth and clay kicked up at his feet. Constantine swore and raised his middle finger in Bane's general direction. Reliable? Yes. Insane? Probably.
His keen hearing picked up the sound of someone loading a machine gun in the Bunker behind him, and without a thought he ducked behind a concrete barrier as .48 caliber rounds filled the airspace where he just was at 800 rounds per minute.
“Any time now, Bane.” He muttered to himself as he was showered with concrete filings from where the bullets impacted behind him, but the flow never stopped.
He rolled his eyes. Bane probably had his feelings hurt by Constantine's gesture, and was being obstinate.
“Shit!” He shouted as a large piece of concrete fell on his shoulder. He had to move. He glanced around the barrier and saw a burned out truck with fat tires. He leaped out from behind the crumbling concrete and bounded for the truck, diving behind it to safety, the bullets always two steps behind.
He reloaded his revolvers with practiced movements, and turned the corner of the truck to fire back, only to see the Korean behind the gun slump backwards, a red flower blooming on his chest.
Constantine dropped his arms to the side,exasperated. “Now he decides to fire.” He glared at the mountainside.
The air around him was quiet now, all the sounds of war had died. All except a low rumbling that seemed to be coming closer.
With much ado, a Jeep loaded with five men screamed into the clearing in front of the compound.
“Yo! Porcupine!” Marcus called from the back of the Jeep. “What took you so long?”
Constantine smiled. “Me? I'm the one waiting for you assholes!”
Severus grinned at him. “Man, you should have seen it when these guys saw his sword, they went nuts. One guy even charged him with a katana.”
Constantine laughed. “Did you cut a girder in half again?”
Marcus looked up to his right, scratching his neck, as if trying to remember. “Nah. Was a car.”
Constantine snorted. “Geezus, man.”
“Yeah, that's why we're stuck with this heap” Said Ryan, a tall, thin man with glasses.
“Cool it Gizmo, you got all the tech you need back home” Boomed out a deep bass behind him. Tank was a giant African, who's real name was something so obscure and so rarely used that the other Angels could barely remember it.
“Still, tank, it woulda been nice to leave here in style.”
“Ryan, you wouldn't know style if it walked up and hit you on the tush with it's naughty parts.” said a large Russian with blonde, slicked-back hair: Ivan the Five.
“At least I don't walk around in red and white striped shirts all day, Berserker.”
Ivan grinned. “That's exactly what I meant.”
“How's Bane, Conny?” Severus asked, cutting off the argument.
“The same as always: insulted.” Constantine said. “Everyone ready?”
The Angels loaded their various weapons with metallic clicking sounds. Severus walked to the front of the group, stood next to his brother, and smiled. “Lock and load, boys.” Tank kicked down the front door.
The group fought bitterly and mercilessly. There were seven of them, versus 70 more soldiers. One had to feel sorry for the soldiers.
The Angels reached the top floor where their target was located, and, supposedly, where he would be surrounded by the best bodyguards. The hallway at the top of the stairs was empty, save for a few mines which Gizmo quickly dismantled. At the end of the hallway were two heavy, steel double doors. The Angels lined up in two lines, Constantine and Severus at the front. The brothers put their shoulders to the doors, and waited for the signal from behind, which came in the form of a tap on the shoulder. They busted through.
As soon as he was through the door, Constantine felt a shotgun blast explode in the steel over his head.
“Oh shit!” he shouted as he ducked and rolled to the nearest corner, pulling his revolvers out of the holsters on the way. He leveled them at the attackers, and noticed equally-sized weapons leveled right back at him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his entire team lined up next to him, no one firing, with their weapons up. A stalemate.
“Hey, hey, these ones are good.” Tank said, grinning.
There was a moment of silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Wait!” Severus shouted in Korean, putting his weapon to his side.
“Hey, Severus, whatcha doin?” Marcus muttered. His sword wasn't of much use in this situation, so he kept the handle up above his head, the tip pointed down, hiding almost his entire body behind the wide blade. He held a pistol in his left hand.
“Trust me on this one.” He muttered back. Then, to the bodyguards he said, “Let's avoid unnecessary bloodshed. You're best fighter versus ours, hand to hand combat, first one unable to move loses. Loser's team leaves.”
There was a moment of silence as the Korean men considered his deal. “How do we know you won't just shoot us as soon as we drop our guards?”
“Damn, these ones are smarter than most.”
“Shut up, Be'rk.” Constantine thought for a moment. “The same way we know you won't! We can either sit here staring at each other till someone falls asleep, or trust each other in this. It's best for the group.”
The Koreans thought about it for a minute, none daring to look at each other, till one particularly tall one at the head of the group put his gun down. “I'll fight.” He said.
Constantine nodded. “Put your guns down, boys.” he said, as he holstered his own revolvers, and dropped his belt to the floor. He walked towards the center of the floor.
“Who died and made you Major?”
“Your mother, Giz.” He looked back at the Angels. “Don't worry about it, just sit back and relax.”
“Shit, I'm up for that,” Tank said as he slumped down into a corner. “This is gonna be over quick anyway.”
“Try not to kill him.” Severus told Constantine.
“Yeah, but you know what it's like, stepping on an ant.” Constantine said, turning to face his opponent. Severus shook his head behind him.
“Well at least try.”
Constantine would have replied, but he was facing his opponent already. This was a cold fight, neither one knew either about the other, but the Korean, having the size disadvantage, would probably try strike first.
Snap.
There it was. He thrown a kick, which Constantine parried with his left arm as he returned with a straight right, but the Korean blocked it, so Constantine threw up his left knee to put some distance between them. The bodyguard turned using his extended leg as a pivot and moved behind Constantine, who managed to turn his high knee into a rear donkey kick, which connected low on the Korean's left arm. Constantine felt it snap. Without letting up, he turned and threw two quick jabs at the man's left side, where he couldn't defend. Before he could fall, Constantine grabbed him by the neck. He was now standing straight up with the praetorian at his right side, suspended by Conny's hand with his feet on the ground, but his knees bent at ninety-degree angles. After a breath, Constantine flipped on the spot, letting go of the Korean's neck halfway through the movement, the dropping his knee down on the man's chest before he hit the ground.
The entire fight took a little over twelve seconds.
As the bodyguard lay on the ground, coughing up blood, his comrades stared at Constantine, who recognized the look they gave him.
“No, NO!” He threw his hands up to stop them, but it was to late. They had raised their guns at him, and were quickly mowed down by his own comrades in a hail of gunfire.
“Dumb Motherfucks!” Constantine shouted.
“Sorry, man, we had to do it.” Marcus said. The barrel of his pistol was smoking.
“Shit, I know. It's just...”
Severus put his hand on Constantine's shoulder. “I know man, I know.”
“What should we do with this one?” Ivan asked, indicating to the fallen fighter with his gun.
“Leave him, I didn't hit him that hard, he should recover soon.” Constantine walked over to him, and kneeled by his face. “If you ever want revenge, for what happened here, I'll be waiting.”
He stood up and rejoined the Angels. Marcus and Severus said nothing.
“Geez, you're not getting soft on us, are ya?” Gizmo slapped him on the back. “Eh, Constantine? Constantine?..”
“Constantine?” Present day. Constantine awoke to what appeared to be a giant blonde fly staring down at him. He blinked a couple times and the fly came into focus. It was Juliet, waking him up. They were on a plane, the engines were off. They must be in Brazil. Oh right.
“We're here, Conny.”
“Right.” He shook his head, clearing the distant memory from his head, and stood up. He stretched and cracked several vertebrae in his back with a harsh, popping sound. He grabbed his coat from the seat next to him, where his revolver was stashed, and made his way through the plane, following Juliet down the stairs and out onto the runway, where Artemis and Butler were waiting for him.
“Here again.”
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Ellen Waara's newest poem, Fall From Grace, has now been published in The Attic at http://attic-productions.com/destinies#/fall-from-grace/
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Artemis Fowl and the Rise of Angels, Chapter 13
“This is what I've been able to come up with based on the information you gave me.” Foaly said to the group gathered in Artemis' study. It was everyone who would be involved in the hunt for Severus, sans Marcus. The group had no wish to involve one more human in the affairs of the People. They had gathered the day before they were supposed to leave to draw up a plan, Constantine would relay it to Marcus, who had been sent – to his displeasure – to get some supplies, later.
“How much information did you give him?” Constantine asked Artemis.
“Marcus emailed me pretty extensive digital files, I edited out some of the superfluous or unnecessary pages and emailed that to Foaly.”
“Which still left me with about a terabyte of info.” Foaly muttered.
“I had faith you'd figure it out. If you think I was wrong...” Artemis sneered. Constantine laughed like a schoolboy who had been told a particularly inappropriate fart joke.
“Did you-?”
“Yes.”
“Are you gonna-?”
“Of course.” Artemis nodded.
Holly rolled her eyes at the duo's in-synch geek-speak. They had been doing it since the day before, it was cute at first, now it was just getting annoying.
Foaly cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt the budding bro-mance, but the Genius has life-saving plans here.”
Constantine chuckled. “I'm sorry, Foaly, go on.”
Foaly stopped. “Was that an apology? Holy Frond, I'd almost forgotten what one felt like.”
“Foaly,” Artemis said, tapping the wooden armrest on his chair to gain the centaur's attention. “any day now.”
“Oh, right.” Foaly hit a few keys and a giant map of the world was projected on the wall opposite Artemis' desk, instead of his face. “From the digging I've done through the files, I've located several facilities throughout the surface which had served as bases, safe-houses, and armories for the “Angels”, as you call them.” About 40 red beacons appeared on he army-green map. “I narrowed the search by which ones still had power.” Foaly's head popped up again on a an insert-screen in the corner of the map. “I assume you're looking for someone who's alive?”
Constantine nodded.
“Alrighty then!” Foaly had gone through a faze where he watched nothing but Jim Carrey movies, and he built an entire website dedicated to the actor.
A moment later, about 15 of the red beacons had disappeared.
“That's still too many, Foaly” Artemis said, before Constantine could speak up.
“I realized that. That's why I did a search for who now owns each location, and cut out major electronics suppliers, Factories, and the like.” Twenty more disappeared. Two red lights blinked near Beijing, three more blinked in Australia, South Africa, and Brazil. “These two,” A red circled appeared around the two in Beijing “are owned by a small storage company, and are used for warehouses. Completely legitimate. The remaining three, however, are owned by an international customs law firm, which doesn't seem to be doing any business at all.”
Constantine, who had been leaning against Artemis' desk, had stood straight up, and moved directly in front of the map. “What's the name of the company?”
“Custodies.” A small, blinking C appeared instead of the red icons.
“That's the one.” Constantine was silent for a moment, then turned away from the screen. “The sonofabitch is mocking me.”
Juliet and Butler, the only two without a grasp of classical languages, looked at each other.
“I-I'm sorry.” Juliet began. “But what does Custodies -?”
“It's Latin, it-it means the watchmen!” Constantine said, angry for the first time, waving his right hand at her, his left on his hip. He turned and waved his hand at the map. “It was a front company we had set up near the end to make our interactions with customers look legitimate. He must have taken control of it once we split up, using it to fund whatever demented plan he-”
Juliet stepped forward, and put her hands on his shoulders. “Hey.” She whispered to him. “We're gonna get him, alright?”
It seemed to calm him down. He nodded, but said nothing.
Foaly watched the scene, smart enough not to make a crack, for once. “Umm, if it means anything, I checked the power usage on each of the sites, and the one in Australia is using a much more massive amount of power than the other two, almost 8 times the amount.”
Constantine looked back up at the screen. “That's where he'll be.”
“How do you know?” Holly asked.
“Because, whatever disaster he's planning for humans, he'll be making it there, and he wouldn't be caught away from his “master plan”. Not on his life.”
“So that's where we'll go!” Juliet said.
“No.” Constantine said, not taking his eyes off the map.
“Why not?”
“Because that's not where my daughter will be. If he's keeping her as a hostage, then he'll keep her away from him, so if we come right after him, he can still use her as a bargaining chip. That's why he didn't bother to try and hide which one it was. He want me to come after him.”
“Why?”
“Cause he thinks he can beat me. And then his problem is over with.”
“Then why didn't he kill you a week ago?” Holly this time.
“Because he wants to toy with me. He's insane, he thinks I've become too soft, and he wants to show me his grand master plan before he offs me, maybe even get me to join him. He wants me to go after him.”
“Then how do we even know he has your daughter? This could all be a trap.” Artemis said.
“That's the thing,” He turned to the group for the first time. “I don't. But it's my daughter, and if there's even the slightest chance she could be alive....Well, I have to find out. I really can't ask any of you to come with me on what could be an incredibly dangerous wild goose chase -”
“Don't be silly,” Juliet said. She was still standing right next to him, and she took his hand in hers. “We'll be right at your back.”
Artemis nodded behind her, and both Butler and Holly smiled at Constantine; who looked at all of them, then back to Juliet. “Thank you.”
“Aww, how cute, I bet your babies will be miniature Hulks...With none of the Bruce Banner.” That was Foaly. Ruining the moment. Juliet quickly let go of her hand.
Constantine turned towards his face projected on the screen, which had now replaced the map. “How do you even -?”
“I pirate American cable. A lot.”
“Ah.”
“Yes. Well, unfortunately, that's all the help I can offer you from her. Did you get the equipment I had left outside Tara.”
Artemis nodded. “Yes, Foaly, we appreciate it.” He had sent Butler to pick up the drop the day before.
“Alright, good. I have to go, I'll send you a copy of what I found as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, Foaly.” Constantine said. “Really.”
“So much appreciation,” Foaly said, putting his hand on his chest. “I just might die.” With that, he cut the connection, and the screen went black.”
“You two spoil him.” Holly said.
“Everyone deserves to be spoiled every once and a while.” Said Constantine, his customary smile beaming at her.
She smiled back. Everyone said their goodbyes, Juliet gave Constantine a longer-than-Butler-would-have-liked hug, and eventually Juliet, Butler, and Holly filled out, to go about their various tasks. The Butlers to check supplies and weaponry, and to make sure the Lear Jet was ready for them to fly, while Holly went to set up the communications gear, that she was going to operate from Fowl Manor while the rest went out onto the mission.
“Constantine.” Artemis said, once they were the only people left in the room.
“Yes?”
“You said “if” he was going to use her as a hostage. What if he's not.”
“If he's not. Then...”
“Then he's raised her as his own...”
Constantine couldn't look at him. “Yeah..”
“What will you do then?”
“I've tried not to think about it.”
“But I know you do.” He steepled his fingers. “It's as much a curse as a blessing, for men like us, that we always think about things like this. Whether we want to or not. We can't turn it off.” Artemis stared intently at Constantine, who looked back at him, his eyes watery.
“That's what scares me the most. I've been thinking about it non-stop, in the back of my mind, always somewhere it's been there, nagging at me, and I still haven't a damn clue.”
You can check out Ellen Waara's poetry collection in The Attic at http://attic-productions.com/destinies
Looking for beautiful poetry? You can read Painting Petals, and the rest of Ohhhwillow's poetry collection, at http://attic-productions.com/ohhhwillow-poems Happy Reading :)
You can check out E. Leslie Devotie's Les Marais at http://attic-productions.com/les-marais
Or read his poetry collection, Holidays, at http://attic-productions.com/holidays