Book 1: The Rebirth of the Aztecs

Chapter 5 Part 2: Angels on the Warpath

Before Nelson could think to put his hands up, a commanding individual with one eye and a fancy black and gold embroidered eyepatch put a finger to his lips before waging the digit back and forth to emphasize his point. The Tech felt sweat form on his brow as his adrenaline spiked, and he forced himself not to move. There was nowhere to run, and they were close enough to strangle out any cries he tried to make. Besides, he was on this part of the ship to escape everyone else, and had even looped the security footage to get some privacy. No one was coming to help him. A fact that seemed all too coincidental given the circumstances. These guys must have the best intel imaginable. Not a good sign for the long life of Nelson Peck.

It might have been the Tech rushing through the stages of grief and landing on acceptance, but he found himself thinking about some of the questions Nelson had forced himself not to ask while on this prison ship. Those weren’t pretty sights he’d looked away from. They were the kind of things that could destroy someone if they thought about them for too long. They were so bad in fact that a small, but vocal part of Nelson couldn’t help welcoming these commando killers. They were going to kill him, but a whole lot of sick freaks were going down too. No one could survive that kind of dirty laundry being exposed. Still, it would've been nice to make it back to port one last time.

Eyepatch looked Nelson over once more before bringing out a smartphone, and checking what looked like a screenshot on the screen. The tech could tell by the reflection of the light on the man’s face. You picked up weird skills when stuck in front of a computer all day long in a dark room.

“Nelson Peck, today is your lucky day,” Eyepatch said in a gnarled voice as old as a redwood in a midlife crisis. Nelson sucked in a breath at the sound of his last name. That must have been a screenshot of his face and identity. These guys had some serious intel.

“Your Naan says you should’ve stayed in Napier, and I can’t disagree with her.” Of all things Nelson expected to hear that wasn’t even on the list. Peck had talked to his grandmother every time he’d scratched together time in port. How did a plummer’s wife manage to form up a commando posse to break her grandson out?

“Don’t get too excited kiwi. This rescue has a hefty service fee your sweet Naan can’t hope to afford,” Eyepatch unzipped a pouch and retrieved a heavy duty memory stick made out of stainless steel which was clearly meant to survive in adverse climates and trying circumstances. Kind of like slaughtering your way through a clandestine spy ship.

“You’re going to take everything this ship’s been spying on down to the Pope’s hidden mole on his left buttcheek he’s been sensitive about since choir boy practice, and put it on this hard drive. Don’t worry, it will fit. Then you’re coming with us after we’ve dumped every lackey overboard to the sharks. You can’t go home again. Your employers will retaliate on your family, but if they think your dead chum meat you’re in the clear. A permanent solution navy boy. No going back after you leap, no more fancy pants and fat bank accounts, but no more living on your knees pretending you didn’t see the rituals in the basement. You understand?” Eyepatch held out a hand to shake while boring into Nelson’s eyes like a single hazel drill boring through his brains and soul beneath.

Nelson almost asked what happened if he said no. Would they let him live? Leave him marooned? Feed him to the sharks with everyone else? These fear driven concerns were burning through the tech’s mind when a voice broke through the chatter, and cut right to the bone.

“Do you want to be a comfortable slave your whole life my son?”

Nelson grunted as the thought silenced every other voice in his head. He hadn't heard that tone since sitting in the front pews with his old Naan bored out of his mind, and trying to side eye the pretty girls in the back of the church. He didn’t fancy himself a religious man, but he’d seen the devil while on this nightmare cruise. The Tech’s employers were no normal men, and they couldn’t always hide it from their lackeys, especially the ones holding the keys to their surveillance apparatus.

Evil was real, alive, and crawling out of the walls. Sometimes literally. If the devil old Naan had warned him about lived then maybe the God she claimed banished and beat evil’s scaly snake hide to the curb was real too, and just maybe party boy Nelson, who didn’t ask questions, had heard him.

There was doubt of course. Nelson knew he was a small fish in a big sea. Why should such a being care about him? Still, Peck didn’t call himself “son” in his own head, and the possibility was enough to give this drifter some backbone. After seeing the madness, the cruelty, and sheer disgusting filth hiding underneath the underworld's carpet Nelson would do this even if they fed him to the sharks. Seeing those arrogant freaks have the fear of God on them was going to be all the pay this party boy was going to need this time.

The Tech took the offered hand with force and a determination he hadn’t felt since bootcamp. A smile crinkled Eyepach’s good eye as he tossed the harddrive to Nelson. With that the grizzled looking pirate glided past Nelson with a reassuring pat on his shoulder the commando’s boots as silent as the grave he was dumping monsters into. Peck almost tried cleaning his ears as not a single step made a sound. No wonder these guys had ghosted within twelve feet of him, and what was left of Crisanto.

The crew of commandos swarmed around Nelson just as quiet as Eyepatch with death in their stride. Nelson did his best to stay as soundless as the wraiths he’d taken up with, but they were as pro at their craft as the Tech was at his. They were here to clean house. Sometimes a man can just smell the ill intent in the air, and around these pirates the air was thick with coming demise. Angels of Death on holy crusade. Or at least that was the way Nelson decided to cope with the sudden change of course in his life.

The Tech did his part to a T with perfection on the mind, but he couldn’t help being both disturbed and grateful to old Eyepatch. The man was his savior today. Still, he could have let that pleased smile leave his face when the guts and brains started flying. No one stood a chance on the ship, and no alarm was sounded. Somewhere out there Ninjas were looking on in envy. Nelson really hoped he never ended up on his new employer's bad side. No one told him how terrifying angels were when God sent them hunting.

The Story Will Continue Every Monday

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