{"id":5925,"date":"2020-09-01T21:23:49","date_gmt":"2020-09-01T13:23:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.benjamincheah.com\/?p=5925"},"modified":"2020-09-01T21:23:49","modified_gmt":"2020-09-01T13:23:49","slug":"wolves-of-babylon-chapter-7","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/?p=5925","title":{"rendered":"Wolves of Babylon Chapter 7"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

For the Good of All<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Karim was many things. Cop. Operator. Protector. Elect. In his short life he had seen so much, done too<\/em> much. He had saved many people, yes, but he\u2019d also killed more men and monsters than he\u2019d dared to count. He\u2019d upheld the law, but he\u2019d also gutted a government. Of all the things he\u2019d done, there was one thing he wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Murderer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Until now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Staring out the windshield, dark thoughts bubbled through his head. How the hell had his life gotten to this point? What the hell was he even doing here? Why the hell was he even doing this?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the STS shut down, it felt like a part of him had died. He\u2019d spent his life working up the ladder, taking on the monsters that threatened Babylon. It was who he was, and Galen\u2019s support made him a better warrior, a better protector. Having reached the top of the tactical food chain, any lesser assignment felt like a demotion, an insult, a hollowing out of who he was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the first three months, he wandered the length and breadth of the country, telling himself that he was still underground and on the run. Maybe the truth was, if he\u2019d found a job in another PD, he\u2019d have to start again from the bottom, and he couldn\u2019t stand it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim Mustafa, the man who\u2019d run with Team Black Watch, who had stared down the New Gods and rooted out corruption in the highest levels of government, who had been chosen by Galen himself. After a life like that, how could he go back to writing parking tickets? How could anyone?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Still, reality kicked in. His savings were running low. And by choosing Galen, he had cut himself off from his clan, from the people who still believed in the absent Allah. Finally he\u2019d swallowed his pride and applied for jobs. Was it too little? Too late?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t know. Only that his choices, one after another, had brought him to this point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019d thought Galen was finished with him. For those six months on the road, not once had Galen called out to him. To be fair, neither had he. Not once had he touched his powers or acted in his name. Some nights he\u2019d even allowed himself to believe that he\u2019d retired from being an Elect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But there was no such thing as retirement. Not for those chosen by the gods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the hell of it was, this felt right<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Using the power again. Crushing those who oppressed the innocent. Gearing up and getting ready to take on bigger beasts. It felt right. It felt true<\/em>. It felt like\u2026 a calling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This isn\u2019t murder. This is war<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some Elect had difficulty telling the difference between their thoughts and those of their gods. Karim never had that problem. He recognized Galen\u2019s voice anywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And Galen was right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The New Gods were at war. War with Babylon, war with each other, war with humanity. No matter what the Babylon Accords said, they could not, must not, be treated like criminals. The STS treated them exactly as they were, archdemons whose very existence threatened all of mankind. For that reason, the New Gods and their allies had to destroy them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Pantheon was composed entirely of jealous, wrathful and paranoid gods. A toxic combination. They could not, would not, leave Galen in peace. They might have been less aggressive than the Street Wolves, for now, but they were far more dangerous. They would see the attempted arson, and the ambush, as a golden opportunity to manipulate people and events their way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They had to be dealt with now<\/em>, before it was too late.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And if that meant walking up to a Pantheon official and blowing him away, well, that was what had to be done, for the good of all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thus, here he was now, observing a curry shop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kumar Curry & Naan was a low-key restaurant gaining prominence in foodie circles. Critics raved about the freshness of its ingredients, the crispiness of its breads, the incredible balance of flavors in its dishes. It attracted a dense crowd of customers from morning to midnight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which made it a great place to wash money and discuss business.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The business permit named Raja Kumar as the sole proprietor. BPD knew he was a member of the Pantheon, he who worshiped the King of Wisdom. PSB pegged him a Vaishya, one who supported the Pantheon through business and commerce.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The restaurant was a cash-heavy business. Easy for dirty money to go in and clean money to come out. There were also plenty of instruments available on site for the disposal of inconvenient corpses. His PSB dossier was filled with rumor and innuendo. There was no hard evidence for murder, only testimonials from lower-ranking Pantheon soldiers. But the financial forensics wizards had, with their arcane sorcery, had tracked multiple streams of dirty money to the restaurant, while the Supernatural Crimes Division had drawn solid links between Kumar and known Pantheon hitters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The only reason Kumar was still around was because the PSB had bigger fish to fry. For now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The human authorities didn\u2019t want to lay a finger on Kumar. But Karim and Kayla weren\u2019t cops any more. They were outlaws. And they had to operate like outlaws.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim had taken a long drive through Babylon after leaving the temple and enjoyed dinner at a noodle stand in the middle of a plaza, in front of the public eye. Then he drove to a bar and hung around, where all and sundry could see him, until Kayla had gunned down the Street Wolves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019d waited for precisely eighteen minutes\u2014a round figure would attract suspicion\u2014and drove off again. He\u2019d parked his car in a multi-story parking garage near a park, then headed to the top floor and climbed into a gravcar. That vehicle was rented in Kayla\u2019s name, the license plates plastered over with stickers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Street cameras all over Babylon read license plates for many reasons. Red light enforcement. Tracking stolen vehicles. Finding wanted suspects. If a vehicle were in a criminal database somewhere in the country, the cameras would flag it automatically. But if a license plate did not exist in any<\/em> database, the cameras didn\u2019t care. They weren\u2019t programmed to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He landed the vehicle five blocks away and drove the rest of the distance. No traffic cameras flagged him, no cop cars noticed him. So here he was now, slumped over in his seat, watching and waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The clock struck midnight. The lights promptly dimmed. Every other shop along the block closed a long time ago. Kumar\u2019s Curry was finally following in their footsteps. Customers streamed out the doors. Karim raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes, studying them all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No Kumar. But that was all right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cars and bikes pulled out from the parking lot. Soon, there were only a handful left. An hour later, the night shift workers were finally done with their chores. They filed out the restaurant, dispersing to every direction. Some trudged to the parking lot, others called cabs. The lights on the second floor, however, remained on. Karim studied the staff one by one, checking that Kumar wasn\u2019t among them, and waited.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally, there was just one car left. A silver gravcar, classier than the staff\u2019s, classier than the patrons, a car fit for a chosen of the Pantheon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A car parked under a streetlight with a mounted camera.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another hour passed. At last, the lights went out, plunging the building into darkness. Karim stirred, bringing his binoculars up once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A figure exited the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A second.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A third<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLycan, Deadeye. I have eyes on three subjects. No ID on any of them. Designate the taller female as Alice, the smaller female as Betty, the male as Charlie.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kayla was set up in a rented van down the street, rear doors facing the parking lot, ready to deploy her railgun in moments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In their planning phase, they had anticipated multiple subjects. It made things more difficult, but not impossible. They just had to work with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMe neither,\u201d Karim replied. \u201cLet them walk out into the light.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But they kept the shadows. In the sodium orange glow, he made out the silhouettes of two women, their arms wrapped around a shorter and fatter man. No faces, no distinguishing marks, nothing but body lines and hair length.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But they approached the silver car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim tracked them, his binocs set to 8X, balancing resolution with field of view. He wished for night vision, thermal vision, a drone, something that could get him positive ID in the dark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But he was an Elect, and he had options.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I need Aethersight<\/em>, he thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And so you shall have it<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Warmth flood his eyes. A veil lifted from his face. And now he saw the energies of the world, flowing and twisting, gathering and dispersing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Through the lenses, he saw burnished gold and deep purple energies radiating from the group.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From all three figures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDeadeye, Lycan. The subjects are Pantheon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCopy. Is Charlie the target?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot sure yet. Moving in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He folded set the binocs down and stepped out the car. He pulled his coat over himself, hiding the shorty shotgun slung around his neck. With the stock collapsed and folded, loaded with a five-shot magazine, the Revolution was no bigger than a machine pistol. He could walk the streets like this and nobody could tell if he were packing. The trigger guard was swung down, the better to accommodate a transformed finger, ready for immediate deployment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He approached the parking lot at a brisk pace. Not so fast that he would attract their attention, not so slow he could lose them. He placed his gaze at a spot above and far behind them, tracking them in his peripheral vision to avoid triggering the sense of being watched. He kept to the shadows, walking around splashes of streetlights, sliding past when he couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was no cover. No concealment. No way to avoid being watched. But that was the point. To carry this out, he had<\/em> to be seen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Five meters from the car, they spotted him. They picked up the pace, hustling for the car. Karim accelerated too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaking approach,\u201d Karim whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRoger. Sights are hot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho are you?\u201d a woman yelled. \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRaja Kumar? Is that you?\u201d Karim asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The male ignored him. He held out a small device. The car\u2019s lights flashed. The locks released.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGive the word and I\u2019ll take out the engine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRaja Kumar! Vaishya of the Pantheon! I am calling you out!\u201d Karim boomed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The group halted by the car. And turned to Karim.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho wants to know?\u201d the man asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you Raja Kumar?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The trio\u2019s energies shifted. Purple overpowered the gold, forming a solid wall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got balls, calling me out. Who are you? Who do you belong to?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you Raja Kumar?!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The man stepped up. In the light he saw moles, hazel eyes, thinning hair, dark skin. Positive ID.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe are the Street Wolves! Your men killed some of mine at the Temple of Galen! Blood demands blood!\u201d Karim yelled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The women stepped up, flanking him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBullshit! We didn\u2019t sanction a hit!\u201d Kumar replied. \u201cWe don\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBLOOD AND DEATH!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eldritch energy surged through Karim. He welcomed it, embraced it, letting it change him. Clothes transmuted to fur and flesh. Muscles bulged, bones hardened, nails sharpened. His nose grew keener and sharper, picking up the scents of spices and salt, sweat and sex. The gun, once a welcome weight in his hands, was now a toy, a paperweight, barely registering in his senses. His eyes became Galen\u2019s, and now, through the lenses of his eyeshields, he saw the truth of what these people were.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soldiers of the Pantheon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They didn\u2019t freeze. They didn\u2019t panic. They didn\u2019t run. They did nothing a civilian would do\u2014and everything a Godtouched Elect would.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The women stepped forward, drawing upon their gods, morphing to assume their divine form. Tight dresses and gaudy jewels melted into fur and fangs. Their knees bowed forward, growing an extra joint. Their arms lengthened, reaching down to their knees. Hands and shoes became clawed paws. Their faces elongated, their hair retreated, revealing triangular ears and feline muzzles. Sharp teeth burst from predatory jaws. Red eyes burned in the dark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The werepantheresses screamed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGreen light,\u201d Karim whispered. \u201cAlice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The railgun roared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a sound unlike anything he\u2019d heard before. It was like the peal of thunder, bottled up and dialed down, diffused and muffled, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Fractions of a moment after that terrific crash came a crack, sharper and higher-pitched, the wake of a sonic boom assaulting the left side of his face, so fast he almost didn\u2019t notice it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then came a loud wet smack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A tiny pinprick blossomed between the taller werepantheress\u2019 eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The back of her head detonated outwards in a halo of gore, showering Kumar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim didn\u2019t stop to watch. He swung up the shotgun in both hands, extending it out as far as the sling would take it, and fired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A cloud of sixteen .30-inch pellets tore into Betty. At this range they barely had time to separate. The column of shot carved a tunnel of destruction through her chest, her heart, her spine. The shock of the blast held her upright for a moment, before she fell on her knees as though begging for forgiveness<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim didn\u2019t know if it were enough to stop an Elect of the Pantheon. He didn\u2019t care. He fired again, this time obliterating her head. He turned to Alice, noted that she was lying in a lake of dark blood, and continued turning, moving on to Kumar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Who was inside his car, starting the engine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKill the car!\u201d Karim ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He pivoted in place and fired. At the last moment, Kumar ducked. The buckshot disintegrated the windshield, sending a shower of slivers into the car. Karim shuffled to his left, moving through a circle, approaching the cab, and fired again. The buckshot passed through the window, ripping up the driver\u2019s seat, kicking up a storm of foam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The railgun cracked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sparks jumped from the front of the gravcar. Metal shrieked and shattered. A cloud of steam burst forth, flinging the hood open. Kumar screamed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim worked the trigger again and again, blasting up the vehicle. The car door crumpled under the blizzard of metal. Kumar shut up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He wasn\u2019t dead yet. Karim could smell the iron-rich scent of blood, taste the fear and anger and desperation, hear shallow huffing and puffing. He raced up to the car, clicked on the weapon light, saw\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The passenger door opened. Quick as a snake, Kumar scrambled out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTarget is outside the vehicle!\u201d Kayla warned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kumar bellowed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His clothes vanished. His body ballooned. He grew, and grew, and grew<\/em>, his arms and torso and neck and head growing to gargantuan proportions. His hands balled up into colossal fists. Rough, thick, hairless hide armored his flesh. Ivory tusks sprouted from his mouth. His nose stretched and strengthened, becoming a powerful trunk. Red eyes burned in rage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim sidestepped, bringing the shotgun up and\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And Kumar flipped the car over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The vehicle spun round and round, as if it were a toy tossed by a giant in a tantrum. Karim ducked, bending over. The car whooshed over him, inches away from clipping his skull. Kumar spread out his arms, threw back his head, and trumpeted a challenge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim shot him in the face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kumar remained standing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSon of a bitch!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kumar had eaten the buckshot blast point-blank, to no effect. Karim mashed the trigger\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CLICK<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShit!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kumar howled in rage. In the circle of white light, Karim saw red rivulets running down his face, from what was left of his eye sockets. Backing up, Karim ejected the magazine, reached for his coat\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kumar charged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim backpedaled. Kumar swiftly pivoted, homing in on him. He wasn\u2019t using his eyes, Karim realized. He was seeking him out by hearing, by smell, by everything but sight. Even as he framed that thought, Kumar threw a loping overhand hook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim swiveled, slipping the blow. Air whooshed past. Karim turned and\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the other fist shot in like a cannon. Karim spun again, deflecting it with his forearms, the shock of the blow rattling through his bones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kumar lashed out and grabbed Karim\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instinctively Karim pulled back. But the elephant man was strong, strong beyond belief. His grip crushed Karim\u2019s bones and pulled him into a headbutt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim lowered his head at the last moment. Crown smashed against crown. The blow left him dazed, reeling, seeing stars explode over his sight. Kumar grabbed his other shoulder and pulled him in again. Karim\u2019s head collided with the curve of Kumar\u2019s tusk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The elephant man wriggled back and forth, trying to gore Karim. Karim struggled, trying to break free. But Kumar was strong, incomprehensibly strong, stronger than any Elect he had wrestled with. Kumar\u2019s hands gripped the back of Karim\u2019s neck in vice-like clinch. Karim released his shotgun, freeing his hands\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And Kumar shot his knee up into Karim\u2019s face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim blasted out his forearms, catching him in the thigh. As the leg fell, Karim sank into the blow, following the energy. Suddenly the grip on the back of Karim\u2019s neck softened, loosened, broke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim slipped away and out of his grip. Rose back up, now on Kumar\u2019s outside, fangs and claws ready for the kill. He opened his jaws and\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLycan! Get clear of Kumar!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2014And jumped away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kumar trumpeted again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The railgun fired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The flechette struck Kumar just above his blown right eyeball, drilled into and through supernaturally dense bone and wreaked havoc inside his cranial cavity. The scent of iron and fresh soap assaulted Karim\u2019s nose. Incredibly, the flechette didn\u2019t exit, but Kumar collapsed into a twitching heap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The elephant man was an Elect. And Karim was playing the part of a wolf. Karim reloaded the Revolution, this time with a ten-shot slug magazine. He placed the red dot on Kumar\u2019s head, on a blasted eye socket, and fired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And fired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And kept firing, until at last the magazine was empty and Kumar went completely still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was over. Karim had crossed the line. Cop to operator, operator to rogue, rogue to civilian, civilian to\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Warrior? Vigilante? Assassin?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You have destroyed an enemy who posed a threat to me and all mankind. What does it matter what method you used? The law did not act against him, so you had to.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karim nodded. And sighed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTarget neutralized.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Want more stories of Karim Mustafa in his STS days? Check out BABYLON BLUES on Amazon here<\/a>!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To stay up to date on my latest writing news and promotions, sign up for my mailing list here<\/a>!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For the Good of All Karim was many things. Cop. Operator. Protector. Elect. In his short life he had seen so much, done too much. He had saved many people, yes, but he\u2019d also killed more men and monsters than he\u2019d dared to count. He\u2019d upheld the law, but he\u2019d also gutted a government. Of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[68,106,143,168,216,253,277,278,289,338],"class_list":["post-5925","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-babylon-red","tag-cyberpunk","tag-free-story","tag-horror","tag-military-science-fiction","tag-pulprev","tag-science-fantasy","tag-science-fiction","tag-singlit","tag-wolves-of-babylon"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5925"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5925"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5925\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5925"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5925"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5925"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}