Guardians of the Gates - Part 3, The Osiris Gate by Jeff Schanz (classic novels for teens TXT) 📕

performance. “Severinus, you may be a tough old bastard, but you’re a dumbass when it comes to airplanes. We’re in a pressurized tube way up in the atmosphere, and if one of your trigger-happy boys puts a bullet in the fuselage, I won’t be the only one in the morgue tonight.”

Though Severinus made a game attempt to keep his confident glare, it twitched and faltered a little.

“Besides,” said Sebastian, “they wouldn’t shoot after I incapacitated our dear Sergeant Major, and held him in front of me like a shield.”

Harris, who had been ignoring the banter, suddenly stiffened. His knife stopped scraping against the whetstone and he slowly wiped it on his pant leg. Lucian’s hand graduated from being in the vicinity of his holster to flicking the unfastened flap of his holster back and forth nervously.

“Son,” said Harris, drawing the word out very slowly and deliberately. “You are going to get yourself in a world of hurt in a moment. Screw with me at your own goddamned peril.”

“Please. You couldn’t shoot straight to save your life. Or mine for that matter. Not one damned wolfer did you hit on that rooftop. Not one. You’ll probably cut yourself with that knife.”

Sebastian sensed that Harris hadn’t wanted to be dragged into the game until it was absolutely necessary, but pride is a funny drug that dulls rational judgment. The unexpected circumstance was that Severinus was once again taken aback by new information. Sebastian sensed that Severinus hadn’t known that Harris was involved in that rooftop escape.

Harris should’ve reddened, but instead paled. Sebastian sensed that whatever plan Harris had in mind was still in effect, though there may be a new complication. He may have to take action to make it work, now. Good. I don’t know if I’ll win this – whatever this is, but you three will definitely have to work hard for it.

In a near growl, Harris, said, “Son, I have dragged myself through jungles, deserts, and swamps to kill the world’s most dangerous men while you was suckin’ at your momma’s tit. I hunted and killed men in pitch-black tunnels inside mountains that were wired to explode, while you were shittin’ your diapers.”

Sebastian nodded casually. “Well, that makes you really old, then, doesn’t it?”

Harris’s mind snapped the moment before he followed through with an action. That was just enough time for Sebastian to counteract what he was already expecting. Harris was extremely fast, and against anyone else who couldn’t hear thoughts, Harris’ target would’ve have been at his mercy. The move was only supposed to intimidate, no harm intended, but it didn’t matter to Sebastian. As the knife came up, Harris attempted to grip it so he could hold it to Sebastian’s throat. Sebastian’s timing, however, was perfect, and he reached out like a snake strike to grasp Harris’ wrist, jerking it forward and flipping the loosely gripped knife in the direction of Lucian. Lucian saw the blade spinning at him, even if it was not at fatal speed, and reacted how anyone would by dodging the projectile. As Sebastian let go of Harris’ arm, he aimed his already poised elbow at Harris’ head and hammered him in the bridge of the brow, sending Harris limply back into his seat. Harris had never unbuckled himself, so he slumped and bobbed in his trappings.

Lucian had quickly recovered his wits and his balance and was already grasping his pistol. But Sebastian had not been exaggerating about the speed he could overtake someone in close quarters, drawing from many years of hand to hand fighting in both underground MMA matches, and more recent run-ins with craven creatures. He hooked his leg behind Lucian’s leg and jabbed his hand against Lucian’s shoulder, pressing the man to either spin and fall down, or stagger and recover his balance by leaning the opposite way. Lucian did exactly what Sebastian expected and leaned forward to counteract the pressure, his arms thrown forward as counterbalance, his gun simply a waving hand weight. Part two of Sebastian’s move was sliding behind Lucian, gripping the other of Lucian’s shoulders, then propelling him forward, adding to Lucian’s counteraction momentum, and slamming the gunfighter’s head against a steel box that extended from the fuselage wall. With a sickening thud, and a small squeak from Lucian’s mouth, followed by a “whump” of expelled lungs, Lucian’s head bounced off the unyielding metal and wobbled like a bobblehead toy as his body crumpled to the ground.

Severinus had almost finished drawing his feet and body into a fetal position as the whirlwind-fast melee happened in front of him. It had taken only three or four seconds in total, barely giving Severinus a chance to suck in two halting breaths. Sebastian reached down and retrieved Harris’ knife which had come to rest near his feet. He then stepped forward and pried Lucian’s gun out of the unconscious man’s hand before Severinus had a chance to rediscover his balls and recognize that there was a weapon nearby.

The biggest gamble in his plan was what the soldiers might do. They were Harris’ boys, and Sebastian wasn’t certain what Harris’ overall intentions were, though he still suspected the soldiers would hold their fire until they had some kind of definite order. As Sebastian rose with the gun, he finally took the time to see what the soldiers’ reaction had been. If their orders had been to defend Harris and Severinus on their own accord, then Sebastian would’ve already been shot, and there would’ve been no time to worry about it. So he hadn’t worried about it. He had made the decision to take the risk, and all he could do now was see what new situation he was in, then make adjustments to his plan accordingly. In other words, he wasn’t dead, and his unlikely plan had gotten him this far, so now what? The soldiers were all still seated, their rifles gripped in ready postures, no longer slung, or laid across laps, or propped against knees. Their feet were firmly underneath them and ready to move if called, but they were most definitely awaiting some kind of order. Sebastian had bet his life on that guess, and he had won the bet for the moment. Not wanting to tempt his fate any further, he moved quickly to an open area behind the unconscious Lucian and flattened his body against the wall. Should anyone decide to shoot him, they would be hesitant since they might miss and blow a hole in the fuselage, or potentially have the bullet go through Sebastian and still go through the fuselage. The risk of either scenario gave him a modicum of breathing room and time to think of his next move.

Severinus’ head resembled a volcano on the verge of erupting. “What in the hell are you doing!” he barked, spittle flying from his lips. “You are going to destroy us all and the entire Saints organization!”

“Nope,” said Sebastian with a calm he did not feel. “Just you.” He tucked Harris’ knife in his boot and kept the pistol in his hand. He checked the chamber and saw that a round was already loaded. “Told you guys. Two moves. You feeling lucky, punk?”

He was hoping to goad Severinus into making a move without Harris, and by the look of the Saint leader’s lava-colored face, it may have been possible. Although Severinus was trembling with rage, he flipped his head at Harris to force the Sergeant Major’s hand.

One way or another, Sebastian was about to find out where Harris really stood.

Harris stood, crossed his arms in an easy posture, and stared at Sebastian with an expression somewhere between amused and curious. He either had himself a foolproof plan for solving the problem of Sebastian, or didn’t need nor care to do anything at the moment. The latter made more sense, as they were expecting to touch down somewhere Severinus likely had his men waiting to escort Sebastian to whatever fate they had in store. Since they had barely left British airspace, this stand-off would have to last quite a while longer. Sebastian’s figured he was in for a very long, awkward flight.

Harris stayed still for a few pregnant seconds, then turned to his men with an arm extended and palm down. The soldiers all relaxed and let themselves sit deeper into their seats. But they kept their rifles ready in a two-hand grip. Harris re-crossed his arms and cocked his head as he resumed his stare at Sebastian. He made a small gesture that looked like a brief chin point at Severinus. The kind that two conspiring people would use to tell the other person to notice or look at something. Unfortunately, Sebastian had no idea what Harris meant. Sebastian glanced at Severinus to observe whatever it was Harris might be alluding to. The Saint leader was sitting there. He was angry. Those were the only visible observations he could make out at present. So? What am I looking at?

Severinus was still very much enraged, but stayed quiet, waiting for Harris to do whatever the backup plan called for. The carefully orchestrated primary plan had been so thoughtlessly ruined by Sebastian, creating this complicated stand-off scenario. Sebastian could sense that Severinus still had plenty of confidence that the overall result would culminate in Sebastian being taken out of the way, with Severinus remaining in charge, continuing the ultimate plan to rein in Ashe while using his research more beneficially. Unfortunately, Severinus may have to get his hands dirty, which was something he despised. Sebastian was curious what Severinus’ next move would be. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Severinus got up and strode toward Sebastian with very deliberate malice. His eyes were narrowed, but calm, not like the rage they had held just moments ago. Sebastian hadn’t canceled his plan, just complicated it. Severinus stopped himself about three feet away. Lunging distance. He crossed his hands behind his back looking very confident, albeit still angry.

“Assaulting Lucian has solved nothing,” said Severinus, in a tone like a mother at her wits’ end, scolding her child after the kid bit another kid. “There is no situation where you win, Sebastian. One way or another, you will leave this plane in custody. I’m truly sorry it came to this, but you refused to abide by my judgments, which ironically would’ve kept you safe and out of harm’s way. And would’ve spared Lucian your usual barbaric method of handling adversity.”

Give it a rest you hypocritical piece of shit. You bring an itchy-trigger-fingered assassin as your heavy, and you’re surprised that his intended victim defends himself?

Without removing his eyes from Sebastian, Severinus waved once in Harris’ direction. Harris apparently understood the signal and stepped slowly forward. He also made a casual gesture to one of the soldiers who stood up and approached the three men. Behind Severinus, Lucian was stirring, still not fully conscious.

Sebastian imagined popping a few bullet holes in Severinus, threatening the other two until he could locate a parachute, and then finding a way to jump out of this crate. But the armed soldier walking toward him made a complicated plan even more impossible. Plus, his initial look around had located no parachute, a new precaution from the all-too-recent memory of having to leap off a tall building with a patio umbrella after someone stole his parachute. He acknowledged that it might be paranoia, nevertheless, it made him temporarily obsessed with parachutes and backup plans whenever being very high in the air. And this plane was fresh out of both umbrellas and parachutes.

Lucian was attempting to prop himself up, making slow gains. Swell. As soon as Lucian clears the fog from his brain, I’ll have one more guy that I need to incapacitate and don’t have a plan for. He was reluctant to shoot anyone at all, even Severinus, who was testing Sebastian’s code of refraining from killing non-demons. Especially not the soldier. That guy was just doing his job. But witty commentary wasn’t going