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Old 03-19-2020, 11:16 AM   #61
Icelander
 
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Join Date: Mar 2006
Location: Iceland*
Default E13: Venus in Robes

It’s been a long time since the cassette reached the end, but neither man had noticed the silence. Wojciechowski flipped the cassette over to the B side and Leonard Cohen started to sing ‘So Long, Marianne’, sadness palpable in his scratchy voice. Wojciechowski spoke without affect.

“From Houston we learned that they had contact with Danny Daniels for whole hour after Dante Villareal went in. Danny was communications sergeant in Special Forces, he’d set up our radio rig and tactical comms for reaction team. Last they heard from him, he was reporting that Dante hadn’t checked in, had spent longer in there than he should and that Izzy Landry was considering entering health club to extract him from whatever trouble he might have found.

“Houston also notified us that cell tower in area was on fritz and last communication from Danny was coded message on AM radio from car, telling them tactical radios didn’t work. Message in clear, so not specific, due to need to avoid ham radio operators hearing things they shouldn’t, but Danny said that he had tried everything to overcome interference and just managed to get out this message. Could have been technological jamming, but more likely, surge in thaumatological energies.

“Paranormal phenomena interfere with modern electronics. Both we and others have developed ways to use that effect deliberately, make technological communication difficult or impossible. As magic goes, not difficult to perform, as long as there is energy available. Occult causes also consistent with Vietnam-era radio continuing to work when cell phones and modern tactical radios were useless. Something with history, something restored as labor of love, interacts differently with supernatural forces than commercial technology.”

“Is that why you use something like an outdated bolt-action hunting rifle instead of a modern weapon?” Kit asked. “It has some kind of a personal meaning to you?”

Wojciechowski nodded. “Tak. Mannlicher-Schönauer M1903 carbine. It was my grandfather’s. Old Man Kessler has linked it and some of my other weapons with my life force. Enchanted weapons, you could call them, although more accurately, enchantment concerns link between object and person. I carry Mannlicher for silver bullets, M28/30 Finnish Mosin for cold-forged iron. Powerful enchantments were even harder to do back then, but strengthening of old rifle to handle unusual ammunition was subtle enough to work even in early days.”

“Clever,” Kit said. “Supernatural beings usually have some kind of weakness, just like in fiction, and instead of just trying to carry ever more firepower, you guys focused on the ability to hit them with the right kind of weapon. Silver bullets, literally. So you and Vlad loaded up with enchanted weapons to ride to the rescue, like an awesome lock-and-load montage?””

“We had to use subtlety,” Wojciechowski said. “Health club, ‘Venus in Robes’, was over river in East St. Louis. State of Illinois doesn’t recognize Texas license to carry and any kind of open carry ranges from doubtful to forbidden there. You know East St. Louis?”

Kit shook his head. “I’ve never been.”
“Don’t bother.” Wojciechowski said seriously. ”You know movie, ‘Escape from New York’? Kurt Russel as Snake Plissken, sent into lawless post-apocalyptic hellscape urban jungle to rescue President?”
“Sure”, Kit said dubiously.

Wojciechowski grinned coldly. “Well, it’s filmed there. Since 1950s, city has lost two thirds of its population. Post-industrial wasteland, they call it. Movie was surprisingly true to life, except that East St. Louis still had embattled police force, overworked, undermanned and not likely to take kindly to heavily armed strangers on their streets.

“So, we carry longarms in gun cases in trunk of car and hid pistols under coats. Illegally, but at that point, we had decided that we would have to break some laws. This was back when we bought Heckler & Koch weapons, so we had Mark 23 pistols with Knight’s suppressor as full-size Night Rider handgun. Good boat anchors; stupid choice for carry handgun. Still, .45 ACP copper hollow-point filled with blessed salt are worth carrying, just in case.

“Vlad drove us there. He was Spetsnatz before he was Legionnaire. Been soldier almost as long as I. Vlad became man in Afghanistan; left some other things there. So [fornicating] Vlad was grinning like madman while he drove, because he had been bored working security detail and because that man was only happy when someone was trying to kill him.

“We told Dr. Lapointe to stay behind in hotel. Safe and sound. He thanked us politely and then went ahead and did what he wanted, which was to come with us. Les filleuls are all cousins, at least to their way of thinking, and way he saw it, he had two in harm’s way. Dante and Izzy. So, he fixed ridiculous glasses, checked fancy Damascus-steel pistol his godfather must have given him and told us things we’d really rather not hear.

“Like that Mississippi river was blocking some of it, but even so, he could feel raw energy surging from east. See, Cahokia, Mound City, to north of St. Louis, is Indian ruins site everyone knows about. On east side of river, though, less than half a mile from us, much of East. St. Louis was once mound site also. They were building new bridge over river at that time and archaeologists were working overtime trying to analyze some of these sites. Fifty prehistoric mounds, centered somewhere around where ‘Venus in Robes’ was located, just over river.

“And something had woken power there, power to match what could be found inside Vile Vortices. Maybe smaller area, maybe just temporary, but that was small comfort to us that night. We were heading into it. Dr. Lapointe told us that energies roiling around were enough for gifted occultist to shape effects he could only dream about in ordinary times. Some consolation, eh, żabko?”

From the car stereo, Cohen sang ‘But let me ask you one more time; O children of the dusk; All these hunters who are shrieking now; Oh, do they speak for us?

Wojciechowski continues his tale, “So, maybe thaumic energies not entirely bad thing. Double-edged sword, as magic so often is. Dr. Lapointe, he has all kinds of occult gifts. Using old compass, map and sextant, he could pinpoint all our fellow Night Riders. In minutes, he performed divinations that should have taken days of preparations, and he found them all, with precision like GPS. They were inside health club and they were alive.

“So, we crossed Eads Bridge and drove past riverboat Casino Queen, into wooded area to northeast of it. Less than three klicks, but might as well have been moon. Few factories, mostly abandoned. Ghosts of old stockyards; one of greatest abattoirs in history. And one fancy new health club, ‘Venus in Robes’, lit like Christmas tree, all marble and neon, like slice of Las Vegas in overgrown urban desolation. Standing on Cahokia Street, because of course it was.

“We found Izzy’s Cadillac and Dupont’s Mustang parked in next street from health club, well hidden. They were empty of men, but locked, well-secured. Like Izzy would have left them if they made entry to extract Dante Villareal. On ‘Venus in Robes’ parking lot, we saw Babe Olson’s Lincoln Continental, looking empty from distance, so that was where rest of Dante’s team had been stationed. No threats visible at first glance, but we parked half click away, behind abandoned factory.

“So. I hope to God you never have to do something so stupid, żabko, but we were more afraid of what was in there than of police. So I put on tactical vest with rifle plates and attached Mannlicher with sling to me, gave Finnish Mosin to Dr. Lapointe and told him to carry if for me. Vlad had VEPR rifle, civilian copy of RPK, semi-automatic, with folding stock and modern tactical accessories. He was already citizen, I was not yet, so he had night vision and I did not. We would have broken any laws or regulations at that time if we could, but we hadn’t brought NVDs for me.

“We sketched up quick plan and moved out. We were going to approach the health club and then Dr. Lapointe was going to reach our people with mental contact. He knew spell for it, one that he had never tried outside of Penemue library while sailing occult tide. Still, with thaumic energies as they were here on top of ancient mounds, it was worth try. No use planning for what we’d do after that. It depended too much on what contact would reveal if we succeeded.

“Me, I was hoping that we could call in local police and then disappear. Better have Izzy and them fight gun charges in Illinois court than me and Vlad having to fight whatever [fornicating] thing had trapped nine Night Riders without raising any alarms. Hell, it might be Illinois, but this was still America. If O.J. Simpson and Robert Blake could be acquitted for killing wives, all because they had few dollars, having godfather like Kessler should be good for making gun charges go away. Otherwise, what did I become capitalist for?

“Neon lights outside health club were flickering, bathing all in eerie lighting that was there one moment, gone next. Vlad tapped my shoulder, signed at me to get down. Pointed out what he saw. Couple of guys patrolling. Walked like men of war, that kind of arrogant certainty of their own power that you see in soldiers, at least young or dumb ones. Except they don’t seem to have rifles, just clubs. And in cold November night, they were bare-chested, wearing silly masks.

"It wasn’t until one of them half turned I could tell he had wings.”
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