Devil Incarnate Chapter Twenty-six

Legs planted and hands on his waist, Edward surveyed the surrounding area, not seeing anything of importance. Where fires burned at the last compound, there was nothing but darkness to greet them at the location near the bunker in Virginia. 

They'd landed far off the target location so they could assess the situation without acquiring heavy fire. The mountain with the massive hole carved out was due west, tiny blinking lights barely visible on the horizon. They'd found it at the last minute, and decided intercepting the bomb was a better use of their time than storming the underground lair. Allegedly, Holden had sent a team for recon, but when a man spoke with a forked tongue, it was hard to know what to believe. The team discovered Zion setting up camp to live for a few years, if necessary, and their burrow was a natural occurrence in the mountain. It was one of the main reasons it took so long to find. No one had reported anything blowing up, no permits, no suspicious amounts of explosives purchased to carve out a space. They merely took advantage of that which nature already offered.

If the Cullens took out Zion now, while there was another plan already in motion to take out, say, Capitol Hill, then they'd have failed their mission. Saving the world should never have been their duty, but Edward felt obligated to try. It had never been in exchange for going easy on them; Zion had targeted who they wanted all along the way, breaking promises left and right. But it felt, at the time, that he was doing the moral thing. 

In the end, maybe the only futures he could save were those of their children. 

"Did we ever figure out their Plan B?" Edward asked Holden.

"No, but everyone with any position of power is on red alert and in their own bunkers as we speak."

Three months. That was how long they'd been playing the game, trying to keep up with ever-changing rules, attempting to discover the end goal before it was too late. Losing, that's all they'd actually done. 

They'd lost so much. 

"You're telling me—after all this time and with the combined brain trusts on our side—we aren't any closer to knowing what they want than when we started?"

"Not especially, no."

Edward stared hard at the side of Holden's head. "Does my immunity cover the vicious, cold-blooded murder of the worst operative I've ever met?"

James didn't even bother to turn his head. "That's saying a lot, considering how much you hated O'Byrne."

"You haven't taken a bullet for one of my men." His grin took over his face, and he resembled a nightmare. "Care to change that?"

"Not tonight, no."

"As long as we know where we stand."

"By the by, where's your wife? I miss her feisty spirit."

Jaw clenched, Edward walked away, considering the conversation over. No doubt, that was the plan as soon as Holden opened his mouth. 

Certainly, there were reasons to distrust the agency and Holden in particular. There'd been moles, incompetence, and fuck-ups. Plenty of room for the agency to solve this on their own without including Edward and his family, and yet they'd claimed to require help. Edward felt that all he'd done was run interference, side stepping hyperbolic landmines along the way. If the agency knew as much as they claimed, how did they allow those moles to screw up the previous op? What had Kiernan O'Byrne truly died for? Did the poor man know with his last breath that the chain of command had ultimately betrayed him?

A worthless death, then. One that could have been avoided and was not in exchange for service to his country. If that wasn't the very definition of betrayal, then what was? At least Kiernan knew in his final moment that he'd saved a life. And that was certainly worth something on the scales of justice. 

Edward had been slightly stunned to learn the operative had a wife and a handful of children. He came across as a single man, one too annoying for anyone to want to put up with for decades. As he'd promised, though, Edward had sent a large anonymous donation, enough to help the children through college if that's what they chose. Their oldest was Cat's age, with three more younger than that.

And yes, Edward couldn't help but think of his children and how they'd react once the dust had settled. There was no going back to a normal life, not anymore. They could try, but they'd forever be altered by the events set forth by a terrorist. Therapy might not be enough to untangle the mess he'd made, not when Quinn wanted him to eat a bullet in atonement. He supposed there were some sins which couldn't be absolved.

So, he had limited time to fix what was wrong, to make amends where he could, and thwart Ivan. Again, if Zion had the real bomb—which at that point, they didn't—and blew up the east coast, it would be catastrophic. But it wouldn't give them political power. 

When it clicked in his head, he marched back to Holden. "Would you personally vouch for every man inside the bunkers?"

Slowly, Holden turned his head. "Well, no, that's above my pay grade."

"Are the president, vice president, etc., separated?"

"Normally, but—"

"There's your Plan B," Edward interrupted. "Whatever is about to come out of your mouth next."

"Son of a bitch." Holden moved away to get on the comms. Edward tuned him out, feeling the slither of satisfaction run along his spine. 

"You wouldn't believe how high up this goes," Holden said when he returned, plopping on a chair next to Edward. "I've passed it on; that part of it, anyways."

"Now what?"

"We're still tasked with taking out Ivan, Alexei, and Nikolai."

"Good. I'm feeling a little need for murder-and-mayhem, death-and-bloodshed tonight."

"How's that different from any other Sunday night?"

"Ha. Ha."

They'd set up a small command station alongside the silent bird, and Edward moved over to it. He needed to inform the others of what was next. 

"Emmett, Jasper, we're going on a killing spree."

Emmett rose to his full height and clapped his hands. "Oh, goody."

Jasper quirked an eyebrow. "Who's coming?"

"You know, I'm not really in the mood for a spree right now," Seamus drawled, his legs stretched out on the ground in front of his chair. "Maybe more like a mass murder event. We could piss up their night right good."

"Killian, you sitting this one out?" Edward asked. Seamus and Holden had bandaged him up, and he'd live.

"I think on this one, yeah, but hit me up next time you have immunity so we can fook some shit up."

Edward chuckled. "Quinn—"

"Don't even bother." Edward’s oldest stood with his back turned to the group, his arms folded over his chest. “I don’t want any part of death, not anymore. No more bloodshed.”

“Son, it’s not as cut and dry as—”

Once more, Quinn cut him off, turning to face them with the look of someone tormented. “Shut up with your facile generalizations and jokes about war! You’re fucking obscene!”

If he only knew what obscene truly looked like. “Fine, so you’re sitting this one out. No need to get snippy.” 

With a roar, Quinn charged his father, attempting to throw a punch. He was met with a hand wrapped around his fist and a useless struggle. “Fucker!” he screamed.

Jasper stood, but Edward held him off. “Save it for later, Quinn.”

With a light shove, he pushed Quinn away and strode for the weapons cache. They’d need to be prepared for what they were about to do.

Emmett joined him. “He’s young still.”

Snorting, Edward picked up a gun, checked it. “I took over for my father when I was barely older than Quinn is now, you know that.”

“Yeah, but you were raised in it; didn't have a choice.”

“It makes no difference, he’ll never forgive me.”

“Should he?” Emmett’s voice had been mild up until then, but it hardened into steel. “Should any of us?”

“I did what I had to do, which is all I’ve ever done. You know, I had a general misanthropy at his age. Didn't give a fuck about the rest of the world, as long as my Family was in order. How the fuck I got roped into saving the world I always hated is beyond me.” Racking the shotgun in his hands, Edward faced his cousin. “But right now, I need to teach Zion that if they come for the king, they best not miss.”

Checking his own weapon, Emmett said, “Looks like they created a monster.”

“And now it's wearing the crown.” Spinning, Edward motioned to those joining him on the mission. “Let’s roll.”

They crept forward under the cover of the mountain’s shadow; it was twilight, and they were using that to their advantage. With black-painted faces and gear, they blended into the shadows until they became one entity, a silent specter of death creeping toward the enemy. Half tempted to tell them they were coming, Edward nevertheless kept all communications muted. He wanted them terrified, shaking in their boots at what was coming for them, but he would not get his wish. Not unless he wanted them all to die before they made it halfway.

“Got the bomb?” he checked in a whisper.

Jasper nodded, holding up the control. 

They moved forward, stealthy, undetectable. Holden spoke in Edward’s ear, just the faintest noise. Putting his hand up, Edward stopped their progression. Plan B was unsuccessful, stopped in its tracks by the heads up given by James Holden. The country was safe from the hands of terrorists, and now all they had to do was make them pay for the grief they’d caused.

He looked forward to meeting them in hell.

Using hand motions, Edward directed them to put the bomb on the combat drone and drive it in the direction of the mouth of the cave. Several motion detectors were set up along the perimeter, which the operatives had located previously and drawn on a map. Pointing to them, Edward showed Jasper where to maneuver the drone so it wouldn’t be detected.

Once it was as close as they figured they could get it, they backed up to find their escape. When they were almost to the cover of scrubby bushes, they heard the unmistakable sound of running feet.

Seamus shouted as he dodged something falling out of the sky. “Shit!”

“Safe to say they know we’re here,” Jasper said as he ran.

“Too soon for the bomb, or we’re all toast.” Edward was prepared for the eventuality they’d be caught, and dove for the cover of a few boulders. Heaving the missile launcher onto his shoulder, he set it off and ducked. The explosion was enormous enough to rock the ground under his feet.

“We know you’re out there, and we’re coming for you!”

He didn't recognize the voice, but it hardly mattered. They ran hunched over, closing in on the helo. It was already powered up and ready to go at a moment's notice, ever since their cover had been blown.

Someone hit him in the back, and they rolled together. Coming up swinging, Edward tried not to cry out from the pain when he caught a blow to the stomach. Charlie’s kidney jab still smarted, and now someone had tackled him to the dirt. He had to brush crap out of his eyes to see his opponent better, but then he realized he was face to face with Nikolai Demov, Gianna’s husband.

“You look familiar,” Edward said, crouching into a fighter’s stance. “Is it because I banged your wife?”

“Cocksucker!” Nikolai screamed, barreling forward to plow his head into Edward’s torso.

Edward buried his tactical knife in the side of Nikolai’s throat before he could land another punch. “Should have run when you had the chance.”

Shoving him to the ground, Edward stood and dusted himself off. In the distance, he saw fires burning and people fighting. Not as much gunfire sounded as he would have expected, instead finding hand to hand combat between Zion’s men and his. 

“Is there something in their cave that’s sensitive to gunpowder?” Edward asked into his communication device.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Holden answered. “Nothing I can detect. Helo is clear if your men can get here in time.”

“Affirmative.” He whistled to get their attention, circling his arms and gesturing to the waiting escape. 

“Watch for stragglers and anyone with a weapon large enough to take this thing down,” Holden instructed.

He couldn't see anything, which worried him. “Jasper, did the AMB make it inside?”

“Pretty deep,” was his response.

“Back it up, everyone.”

When his men moved, he watched and waited. A couple Zion peons were still hanging around, but Emmett, Jasper, and Seamus took them out with a few bullets.

“From what I hear, Ivan is hiding in the depths with Alexei.” Jasper joined Edward as they walked backward to keep an eye on things.

Holden’s voice squawked over the headset, stating, “We have detonation of the false bomb.”

“Time to go!” It would be very bad if Zion found out they’d been tricked at the same time Edward and the others were within firing range.

They climbed into the helicopter yet again, and Edward did a head count. Everyone was accounted for, so he tapped Holden on the shoulder with the go ahead. As soon as they were in the air and far enough away, Jasper rolled the drone deeper into the cave and hit the button.

Instantly, the mountain was surrounded by a black cloud, a sort of sucking void that ate everything in its vicinity. They’d calculated the damage and figured out that the surrounding area would disappear into a crater, that the depth of the subterranean mountain range would help minimize the destruction. It was ugly, and it would take out any wildlife unfortunate enough to live in the area, but it wouldn't be enough to destroy the world. Ivan Zaytsev and the men comprising Zion were indisputably dead, and Edward could breathe a sigh of relief. 

What he had to face next was intimidating, and it would be horrible. But the terrorists had finally been defeated.

Agent James Holden

Antimatter Blackout Bomb

Nikolai