Night of the Condors. Short Story

Night of the Condors

Jimi Hendrix was good at his guitar.

Elton John plays good piano.

William Shakespeare was a great writer.

There were those that were masters of their craft.

There were those that knew what they were doing.

Lidia Darling thought of this as she crouched behind the boxes looking out at the guards clad in purple uniforms. Their AR 15’s strapped to their chest.

The velocity and shockwave of one of those rounds, when it enters the human body, can speed by so fast that it literally busts vital organs from the shockwave without having to directly pierce the organs. The projectile then can tumble around damaging other vital organs. Eventually; if one is unfortunate to be shot by one of these then they may very well bleed out and die from blood loss.

Lidia Darling clenched her 45 Automatic and aimed for the head of one of the two guards standing in front of the warehouse.

She was given orders to make this specifically “go loud” to let the rogue faction of pirates know that the main three secret societies were still not allowing their operations to go unchecked.

Any occult items would belong to the big three especially the Illuminati.

Darling was trained in arcane rituals, if she were to be injured she would be able to at least attempt to heal herself before death would occur. She always reminded herself that she was not one of those bees like the agent of the Illuminati that had sent her here.

She had actually recently spent time in jail after breaking into a home of a conspiracy theorist and subduing him with a rear naked choke cutting off the blood flow to his brain. However; she had broken the glass of the back patio door as she could find no other way in. She was arrested for assault; however the strings of team blue were able to make sure that no arrest records were ever found nor any records of fingerprints or even jail surveillance cameras of a dark-haired young occultist ever being placed in a cell.

Darling breathed heavily as she raised her pistol. This would be the second time that she had taken a life but the first time with a pistol. Going in with only a handgun and fighting was meant to make a statement that only the big three, especially team blue were to control any artifacts.

Breathing heavily she put the purple clad pirate’s head in the front sight.

Firing; she was able to strike the head of the first century, causing him to fall almost immediately.

She was sort of shocked that she was able to make such a shot for the first time.

However; she did not have much time to think as the other sentry spun around with his AR 15 and began to fire.

Darling noticed that the hands of the assailant shot up in the air as a fully automatic burst caused him to almost lose control of his weapon completely.

Now is the time for her to take her shot again.

She once again focused on the front sites as best as she could attempting to go for a headshot.

Her round also missed as the projectile dug its way into a concrete beam next to the one remaining sentry.

The sentry hastily reloaded and pointed towards Darling who was still preparing to fire another round.

Once again it seemed as if his hands were shaking from the turmoil of being in physical combat.

He was on guard duty.

This is probably his first fight and the higher-ups of Team Purple had specifically placed him in such a low position for a reason.

Lidia Darling had six shots left.

Firing again she also missed. This time the projectile flew straight over her opponent’s head.

She had left one deceased with a shell casing beside him.

That should be enough to let the Phoenicians know that the illuminati were not playing.

Lidia Darling decided to use one of her specialties.

She noticed as the guard began to scratch himself as blood began to seep out of his eyes and nose he tore at his clothing viciously as if he were on fire. By the time he had the ground he was already dead from blood loss. Gashes and wounds were all over his extremities.

This trained young witch and occultist had used blood magic. Now it was time to head into the warehouse and grab the crate that contained something that she did not know the contents of.

Lidia Darling ran quickly towards the entrance of the warehouse.

The grated gate was lifted open.

She ran through it and made her way over to the left of the warehouse as instructed. She was to find the box with Spanish written on it. It was a shipment from Santiago.

Darling thought to herself,

“Why would my handler want something from Chile?”

Finding the oak crate, Lidia once again scanned the area for possible assailants. Seeing none she dropped to one knee and produced a flashlight and grabbed a crowbar from her bag.

There were those that were good at their craft.

She had heard their names.

Though she had never met them.

Aubrey Yates

Tsuroko Tanaka.

Kiranne Talmere

Ian Janda.

Chihaya Veda.

Klaus and Angel Von Richter.

Her handler Peter Sartre, had told her that those two were to be considered one.

There was also Amaryllis Wicker, the sister of the famous occultist Theodore Wicker who resided in Hell.

Lidia Darling was getting better.

Soon her name would be spoken among those legends that she had never met but only heard of.

She was getting there.

She pried off the lid of the crate.

She removed several old documents.

There were Spanish documents, yes.

They had to have been at least fifty years old.

Beneath those documents though were documents in Cryillic or Russian. These look to be very old, around ninety years.

They had yellowed with age.

She carefully removed these papers and set them to the side.

Beneath those were extremely old pieces of paper.

These were written in French. They were at least 250 years old

Not being trained in ancient languages she was going to need to use an electronic translator.

As she called her handler Sartre, a word stuck out to her. She had seen it in high school all those years ago.

Thermidor.

“Brother George has told his men that we are too radical.”

“Would that not serve as an excuse to say that we disbanded due to our own recklessness?”

“It would serve as that. And it will serve as that.” said Montressor as he placed the pyramid upon the wooden desk.

“Robespierre made one mistake,” said Lavaal.

“His speech of denunciations took too long. He forgot to name names.”

“Maybe we were pushing it too far.” said Montressor. We shouldn’t of been renaming the months of the year. But the artwork on those calendars was exquisite…"

"Lavaal, as my apprentice, you will see the new century of the 1800s. We are going to restore some order here, 1789 was not meant to be the year of the Dragon in France.

All Robespierre had to do was name names, no trial, no evidence, no anything.

Just a name and they were enemies of the revolution…

It worked well at first, we are certain that he was able to get a few Templars… but then he just switched to random citizens, people disappearing off the streets and the Parisian night. Using their human right of free speech that we drew up as an excuse to arrest them. A lot of them are still peasants, we will make sure that the level of egalitarianism does not take place here despite the rhetoric of some of the politicians that we own who wear the red bonnet and have a radical socialist Republicanism.

We will make sure that they just say words, we will make sure there is a hierarchy in this new liberal Republic of ours. In fact; not Republic may not last very long at all.

We have a perfect candidate for our order.

An artillery commander.

Louis Bonaparte."

“So we overthrow one king and replace them with another one who is “enlightened?” Master Montressor?”

"Exactly Apprentice Levaal… Enough hierarchy to make sure that the Dragon cannot hold sway or that The Templars don’t take hold of the nation. Place your hand on the pyramid. It’s time for you to begin the great work.

The great work that makes all the blood coming off that guillotine and all the blood that came off it before today worth it.

The two men stepped forward towards the desk and placed their hands on the pyramid. It began to glow blue. The candles in the room were extinguished and blown out by a wind even though all the windows were closed.

Both men knew they were feeling something a century away. They felt electrified as the only light in the room was of a blue pyramid that energized both men yet made them feel as if they were being burnt alive by lightning.

"You are no longer an apprentice. Let your heart stop. Let the darkness enshroud you Lavaal.

You will rise from the ashes.

Order out of chaos."

Outside blue lightning streaked across the sky.

A loud thunder burst like the whip crack of a diabolical coachman.

It muffled the screams going on in the darkness of the room lit up only by the blue pyramid.

As the screams stopped, the pyramid darkened.