Canyons of Steel - Valley of the Damned Pt. 6

The location is near Bishop Hills, Mr. Walker. I'll provide you with some ammunition which will help a great deal against the forces you will face against.

An' aside from the finger wigglers, what're we lookin' at?

Some have said the Weavers have the ability to conjure spirits from the ethereal plane. Don't look at me like that, Mr. Walker, just nod and agree. These bullets will help. I was project lead when Stewart Aeronautics was developing new weapons technology. This is one of the developments. Never put into practicle use, but it can come in quite handy for your situation.

What 'bout usin' it against humans?

A silver bullet is just as effective against a human as it is against a werewolf, Mr. Walker. Use any object as a projectile, and it will cause severe damage.

Annie sprayed cover fire as Walker loaded up another clip, taking careful aim as a spook floated menicingly toward him. The bullets Richard Adams gave them were working with perfection. If they weren't field tested much before, they were getting it now. "How many clips ya got left, Annie?" Walker shouted over to his partner.

"Eight, sir," she replied with a quick check. "We've used four a piece." She looked over to Walker a moment as he let the rifle hang about his shoulders, clenching his hands a moment, and flexing his fingers. Annie knew what it was. Walker wasn't young. And like any human being he suffered from the affects of age. Arthritis had started to set into his hands. She turned back to the oncoming forces and continued firing. She worried about him, but he wouldn't allow for it. It was just something he had. I'll get over it, was his mantra.

Through ancient hallways, charred from magical fire, the walls were now sporting the pock marks from a thousand bullets. Guides, mages and spirits fell before the pair. That was the thing. This was the start of a knife fight, but Walker and Annie brought their own party favours. Live by the sword, die by the sword. Especially when your opposition is carrying a fully automatic assault rifle.

The twists and turns eventually lead to an ancient cavern, a natural rock formation which was carved out of the rock by years of erotion from the underground stream that ate away at it. A quick scan of the area could identify the use of the room. Holding areas for prisoners. But there was something else. There was the sound of whimpering, small and quiet. "Annie. That report we heard on the news last week."

"The school bus?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly. He didn't have to say any more. The Weavers have always been famous for their human sacrifices in order to raise the most vile creatures from whatever pit they wallowed in. That bus carried fifteen children, most preteen, eleven and twelve years old. Police hadn't been able to find any trace of where they had gone. It had been assumed that the bus driver who was found later, was responsible for killing and hiding the bodies of all fifteen. But when the authorities went to question him, his mind was turned to mush. A walking vegetable. Not even FBI or CIA could get anything out of him. Quite literally, Walker and Annie had stumbled onto where the missing children had gone.

Annie took one look at Walker. She noticed his hands. He was white knuckling his rifle. She didn't have to ask, she knew. Walker was mad. Not angry, but mad. He had a soft spot for children, one of his decisions for leaving the Illuminati. And Annie could not blame him for his next action.

The bullets began to fly, mowing down the first small group of mages that surrounded the body of a young girl as they attempted a ceremony of summoning. At first he was quiet, not speaking, letting the rifle talk for him. But as he and Annie advanced into the pit, he shouted out so even the angels in the heavens could hear him. "Y'all picked the wrong day ta do this. B'cause sooner 'r later, someone's gonna find out. Guess what? I did, an' I'm comin' ta teach y'all a lesson. An' I bringin' hell with me!"

The mages began to run, knowing that any direct assault would be futile. But a barrage of bullets cut them down quickly, dropping them with precision. Luckily, many of the victims were sitll alive. Alive, yes, but they would still have to live with the horror of what they had witnessed over the past week. "When a dog gets mean an' angry, then it's time ta put that dog down, mages. Well I'm here ta do just that." Within minutes, the mages had been cut down, only one was left standing.

Walker jammed the barrel of the gun underneath the mages jaw, his breath heavy as his finger was only a hair from pulling the trigger. Only Annie's soft touch held him back. "We need information, sir." Walker nodded and stared at the mage, letting Annie do the talking. They'd worked together enough that Annie knew when John got this way, she was the one who needed to keep her head. "What do you know of the recent abilities that the Heritage Front have suddenly acquired?" Her voice was even and calm, which made things all that much more worriesome.

"They came to us... wanted a powerful ally. We knew of the vampyri, so we summoned a vampire for them..."

"That's risky."

"She slaughtered the entire sect," he snarled. "And the jackboots never even paid us for it."

"Is there a way to send her back?"

"There is. But I doubt that any of you could do it. Especially not with this action."

"Yeah, I'm gonna let y'all summon some snot monster with these kids," Walker finally said, his voice cracking slightly from the rage he was trying to hold back. "Just give us the information an' location, an' maybe, the worst that's gonna happen to ya is yer gonna rot in some cell fer the rest o' yer life."

"You would show me mercy?" the mage sneered.

"I never said that," Walker sneered right back as he pulled back the rifle, slamming the butt into the mage's forehead. He crumpled without another sound. "Annie, gather up them that ain't dead an' tend ta their wounds."

"Calling Dr. Adams, sir?"

"No. Callin' someone I ain't talked ta in near a decade," he walked to the edge of the circle that formed the pit and took out his cellphone, dialing a number and praying that it still worked after all these years. There was two rings and a quick hello in a charming but familiar voice, but John couldn't find it in him to reply back in equally charming tones. "Christa."

"John? What's wrong?"

"The school bus. I found the kids."

There was silence for a moment. Christa Rayne hadn't heard from John Walker in years, and now, out of the blue, he called her. One of the many tricks that John had up his sleeve. But now was not the time to berate him. The sound in his voice spoke volumes. "I'll have a team there, John. Good work."

Canyons of Steel - Valley of the Damned Pt. 5

The pair trudged through the sewers with care. They had a connection back to the office of Walker Securities, but Walker had another idea. Aside from needing a few cuts and bruises dealt with, he needed to know more about the type of "magic" they had seen on their read outs. And the only man he knew who could answer that, without getting himself tossed into a Turkish prison, was Richard Adams. Richard had retired, for the most part. Age was catching up to him, but he was still a well of knowledge, plus, he was incredibly handy with a surgical needle and could keep quiet about certain things.

"We could go back, Sir," Annie suggested. "Tracking her through this will be next to impossible."

Walker looked to Annie for a long moment. "It ain't that I don't agree with ya on that, Annie. It that somethin's buggin' me 'bout this whole thing. An' when somethin' starts buggin' me..." He didn't have to finish as he banged a fist against the steel door. He wouldn't be satisfied until he got an answer. The door opened carefully, and an elderly, yet distinguished, black gentleman poked his head out.

"Ah, yes," Adams announced. "Always do know that one of you is in trouble when lower security starts knocking. I suspect you'll need some attention." Adams held the door open allowing the two gunslingers entry. "So," he stated as the door closed, quieter than one would think a steel door should. "Who were the targets today, and where are the wounds?"

"The wounds ain't so bad, Doc," Walker remarked as he took off the jet black cowboy hat and lowered the bandana from his face. Here, both Mary and John Walker could live their dual life one in the same, with absolute safety. Adams had promised them complete autonomy while in the confines of his home, and he would keep the secret of their dual lives. "Just some nicks an' scrapes. Targets were Heritage Front, but they seemed ta be usin' some kinda magic."

"Not uncommon for Heritage Front, really," Adams replied as he went over a few of the bruises on Mary's shoulder. "You should be more careful, Mary. By the look of this bruise, you're rolling into it too soon." Adams knew what the pair had done, even without asking. It was evident in the shape of the bruises and the depth of the cuts. "Heritage Front agents have practised in magic for years, Walker, you should know this."

"But it weren't no magic we ever seen b'fore, Doc. It had a signature like Weaver..."

"...but there was fluctuations that were off," Mary continued. And again, it was like a well oiled machine between Walker and Annie. All cylinders clicking at the right time. "It seemed much more powerful than anything Weaver has managed before." She reached into her saddle bag and produced a hand held, pointing to the display where the signature first appeared. Adams finished with Mary's shoulder and gently took the hand held, studying the readings intently.

Richard knew what he was looking for, after all, it was he along with researchers from Stewart Aeronautics that created the devices for aerial observation. The ones that went into mass production were not nearly as powerful as the one Mary used. "You're going to have to search out Weavers. They're using an other worldly magic. Find out what it is, and see if you can cut off what the Heritage Front is trying to use."

"I thought it were Weaver magic," Walker replied.

"Similar, but not the same," he corrected. "Weavers will be able to help you out, mind you. Granted, they probably won't be happy to see you." Richard smirked as he tilted his glasses. The comment in reference to a dust up between Walker and Weavers several months back. Walker didn't exactly make friends with them. "See if you can talk to the head mage. If the Weavers won't co-operate, then the only other place you're going to get civil answers is from the CSIS Paranormal."

Walker sighed as he sat down in a chair. The examination room seemed sterile and cold, but it was a great deal more inviting than what lay ahead in Orenbaga. "Sometimes, Doc. Things seemed a lot simpler back in the Gulf."

"Maybe you shouldn't have left the military, John."

Walker took a deep breath and sighed. He knew what they would have to do. Rest, resupply, and make a trek into the desert. People were going to die. But if they didn't go down into the earth, people probably would die anyway. The only difference would be, the latter option would involve a great deal of pain.

Canyons of Steel - Valley of the Damned Pt. 4

The bullets were starting to pile up. Walker and Annie were hunkered down behind a makeshift bunker as they were forced to retreat into a small storage area. However, they managed to push back the largest wave of soldiers and keep firing. Every so often, one soldier would become brave enough to try and come up to an area close to their flank. This only served to be a futile effort, as Annie's keen sights always managed to find the target. This also added to the growing stockpile of weapons and ammunition that Walker and Annie were using. As John would often say there's no such thing as a Hollywood clip, but there's unlimited resources b'hind enemy lines.

Annie looked to Walker as the gun fire from the opposite side was starting to lessen. Not that they weren't being effective, but Annie could sense a retreat. Walker popped up just enough to see soldiers crawling back deeper into the sewers. "What the hell's goin' on?"

"No idea, Sir."

And suddenly, the gun fire ended completely. If there were crickets, they would be the loudest thing in those sewers. Neither of them moved, sensing that someone or something was soon to make an appearance. And they weren't disappointed.

From the safety of the bunker, the pair could hear the struggles of a person being held firmly as they attempted to escape. There was a soft laugh and what sounded like a whisper followed by a grunt of pain. Walker reloaded his rifle and began to climb out from behind the safety of the bunker. And came face to face with the Hauptmann herself. But this was different. They'd expected a fight, but not hostages. Hauptmann Yar'ow held a small figure in a tight grip, her arm around the smaller woman's throat. Walker could tell this woman was not from anywhere he'd ever been before. She had similar features to Yar'ow, the elven tipped ears, the tight muscle frame in a lithe body. But he also knew she was not a vampire like Yar'ow was either. And Alow had her in a locked grip, weilding a knife next to the woman's temple.

Annie followed suit, holding up her Berrettas on the elven vampire. This could get ugly.

"Comin' out nice an' easy, aye," the elf laughed. "Good, I wanna see yer eyes." She grinned maniacally as her fangs hung low and menacing, close to the woman's neck. "Ye've been a Weaver in the side o' the Heritage Front since ye took up in Palo Duro. Stoppin' shipments, takin' out soldiers. Shame, they were well trained men an' a loss fer the 'Ighest."

"Well, I ain't been one ta abide by the Highest's so called doctrine," Walker replied as he trained the rifle on the elf. She was starting to back up, dragging the smaller woman with her.

"I'd put down the ordinance if I were ye," Yar'ow instructed as she ran the tip of the blade she held along the woman's abdomen. In a quick gesture, she laughed and ran her tongue along the woman's neck. "Tastey. Ye know what it's like. Need ta feed e'ery so often. An' elven blood makes fer a good mix. Never know, I may turn this one. But no' yet. Right now, she's a bargainin' chip."

"You mean a shield," Annie spoke up. Walker could sense her ire rising inside his partner. She was none too pleased with the display, and could see how hard she gripped her pistols.

"Annie," Walker warned, then turned back to the elf. Her eyes danced with a chaotic madness that could only mean how deranged she truly was. "Deal,' he said to her as he lowered his rifle.

"Smart man," Yar'ow replied with a psychotic grin, her fangs only making the look more menacing. "Little Aelrindel 'ere's gonna acc'mp'ny me. She me reassurance that I get out safely. No' tha' I cannu shrug off whate'er bullets ye vomit outta those pea shooters, but I'd rather no' 'aveta take a coupla days ta repair the damage."

"An' what happens ta her?"

"She lives," Yar'ow replied with an even tone, her features almost softening. "Fer now." As she spoke the last two words her face returned to it's usual maniacal appearance. A sneer and a growl came out of her lips as she saw Annie step closer, pistols still raised. A quick stab, and the knife plunged into Aelrindel's shoulder. The smaller elf gave a cry of pain, and seemed to growl to the vampire in anger as Yar'ow ran her tongue around the newly created wound, breathing deeply from the aroma the fresh blood gave her.

"You truly are a sick fuck, Yar'ow," Walker sneered.

"The deal," she repeated as she roughly kept A'mael in front of her. "Drop yer weapons an' dunna follow." Walker never took his eyes off Yar'ow, but motioned for Annie to lower her weapons. His partner gave a grunt of protest, but he snapped his fingers, showing just how serious the situation was.

"Can't do it now, Annie," he said quietly. "Ain't gonna risk the life o' someone over the quick draw o' tryin' ta take out some scumbag who's just gonna keep comin'."

Yar'ow laughed aloud as Walker voiced his opinion. "I knew there were a 'eart o' gold underneath that full metal jacket." She kept a trained eye on the pair as she backed up toward the exit, a transport pulling up ready to take them both to their destination. "Now, if ye two will excuse me, I've go' ta make meself more intimate with me new playmate." In one last display of defiance to Walker and Annie, the elven vampire, began clutching at Aelrindel, running her tongue along the woman's neck, letting her cold breath flow over exposed skin. As they entered the transport, Yar'ow's laughter filled the sewers with an eerie echo, never fading until the transport disappeared from view.

"Sir?" Annie asked as she retrieved her weapons.

"Start the hunt, Annie," Walker said as he shouldered the rifle. "Back ta base an' start trackin' through the GPS. We'll find 'er. We'll find that bitch an' give 'er what for."

Canyons of Steel - Valley of the Damned Pt. 3

The pair wadded through the sludge of the sewers slowly. Dealing with Gangers, Cultists and Mutties had worn thin on both of them, but Annie reminded Walker that they were closing in on the target. As she inspected a hand held GPS her eyes narrowed. Wordlessly, she showed the display to Walker. He nodded and began checking the ammo situation, loading his rifle with a fresh clip. Annie packed away the GPS and took out a pair of semi-automatice Berrettas. Walker listened for a moment, and finally could hear the sound of jack boots walking on metal grating. This was it.

"Objective, Sir?"

"Heritage Front," Walker simply stated. "Everythin's a target, unless we can identify it as a hostage. Really ain't too concerned 'bout the Fed's policy on capture. It always did seem more like catch an' release." Annie nodded in reply and the pair continued forward again. Walker eased open a door, staying back to the shadows. And there they saw it. It looked like hundreds were packed into one of the large junction stations of the sewers.

"Question, Sir?"

"Go 'head."

"Why is it every organization such as the Heritage Front deems it necessary to pack themselves into a mudhole like the sewers?"

Walker smirked underneath the mask. "Ain't no tellin' in the mind o' a buncha Nazis like these." He looked over to her for a moment. "All set, Annie."

"Affirmative, Sir."

The waiting was over, they could watch the jack boots walk all they wanted to. Each one was merely a target in the grand scheme. Join the Heritage Front, here's your bullseye. Walker started the volley off, taking the group by surprise as he ran for cover inside the room. Six fell to the floor, only one from serious injury. The others, well, there was no need to worry about the other five anymore. As the agents began shouting, grabbing weapons and searching the area where Walker dove to, a second volley from a pair of pistols took down six more.

Annie ran into the middle of the room, firing at random targets, dodging with a cat like grace, and lashing out at anyone nearby. She took up position in another secure spot of the room. And Walker and Annie had them right where they wanted them.

The first step was achieving a secure location in the room, and that was by utilizing the element of surprise. Thus, Walker's action. The second step was confusion. As the soldiers attention was taken by Walker, this allowed Annie to attack and find cover. Now there were two targets. And the soldiers could think all they wanted to about there being a third and a fourth. But with the positioning Walker and Annie had placed themselves, the Heritage Front soldiers were now caught in a crossfire. In the centre of the room, the only cover they had was the bodies of their comrades as they fell to the ground. And once the barrage was done, there was one hundred dead and wounded laying on the ground.

Walker only needed one anyway.

The pair left the security of their positions and found one soldiers crawling along the metal grating. Walker grabbed him by the back of the jacket and flipped him over. The soldier cried out in pain as he was manhandled. "Sorry, son," Walker said in a gruff drawl. "But I ain't one ta 'pologize fer droppin' the hammer on the likes o' you. Now, boy, what gives? Ya goin' through my sector. Why all the ordinance?"

"...escorting...escorting Haupt.. Hauptmann..." The soldier coughed and spat up blood. The look in Walker's eyes told the soldier to elaborate. "Hauptmann...Yar'ow."

Walker looked back to Annie. They'd heard the name before, a very familiar one indeed. An elven vampire who came to Earth from another plane of exsistance. And they knew it, because they helped bring it here. "What ya make o' it, Annie?"

"Only one way to find out, Sir," she stated as she looked to Walker. He nodded in silent reply. Walker knew what had to be done. Search and destroy. Because if the rumours were true, Hauptmann Yar'ow was more dangerous than any Heritage Front Undead before her.

He moved on quickly as Annie looked to the soldier. Wordlessly, she took up one Berretta and placed a slug between his eyes before following Walker.

Canyons of Steel - Valley of the Damned Pt. 2

Marianne Wollcot locked the door and closed the blinds to the street level office of Walker Security and Investigations. The business day had come to an end, but now a new aspect of business needed to be taken care of. Marianne, or Mary as John was often to call her, sat back in-front of her computer terminal and typed in a series of keys. A schematic visual of Palo Duro Canyon filled the screen.

"It would appear there is a high amount of traffic going through Sector 15, Mr. Walker," Marianne announced. John Walker came out of his office after filing away completed reports.

He leaned on her desk as he pushed up his glasses, studying the screen intently. "Well, look at that. Seems the Heritage Front's gettin' a might itchy ta start somethin'." He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's the full details on that, Mary?"

Marianne tapped a few keys, and a legend was brought up, overlayed on the schematic. "Heavy weaponry movement," she reported in her crisp British accent. "And from these readings, it would indicate a high amount of radioactive energy."

"So alotta them purple cotton candy men 're runnin' through the sewers," John said matter of factly. "They usually stick ta the desert. 'Less o' course they usin' the sewer network ta come up near Potter." He sighed heavily as he contemplated the situation. And then Mary gave the word after seeing something very different.

"This indicates a high amount of magical energy, Mr. Walker," she said, pointing to a particularily red patch on the screen.

"Well, well," John stated with a smile crossing his lips. "Now what do Heritage Front want with Weaver magic. That is the signature we're readin', right Mary?"

"As we've often seen before."

John's smile cracked to a grin as he spoke. "Annie, git yer gun. Time ta hit the sewers an' go huntin'."

Canyons of Steel - Valley of the Damned Pt. 1

"Mary, you have the file on the Carpenter case?" John Walker asked in his usual tone. The office was quiet, as it usually was on a Monday morning. John went through the usual detail of sorting through reports of security contacts from the previous week, and any investigations, whether private or contracted through the District Attorney's Office or the office of Andrews and Morgan.

"Here it is, Mr. Walker," Mary replied with a smile as she handed him a thick file from one of the cabinets.

"Thank you, Mary," John said in his charming fashion as he gently took the file. Time to get to work, and who knew what the day would bring about. After all, he had a lot of work each week as the lead investigator for Walker Security and Investigations. The morning went rather quickly, scheduling security details with employees, seeing clients on case matters, and meeting with attorneys to cover case material and what needed to be investigated. Lunch came around and John drove casually into the section of Amarillo known as Potter County.

He had a meeting, one with someone who had become a friend. John had a nagging feeling that bothered him. He knew exactly what it was, but he needed to relieve that feeling. And the only way he could do so was by telling Detective James Mallard the truth. He pulled the Rancharo into the parking lot, smiling to himself as he saw Mallard waiting with coffee in hand, going over some notes at one of the sidewalk tables. "Never seen a man work as hard as you do, James," John called out as he locked up his vehicle.

"Trust me," Mallard replied without looking up. "It keeps me out of trouble. Don't want to worry Linda any."

"True 'nough, Detective," John replied as he sat down. "Fine lady like that deserves someone by 'er side."

James studied John Walker for a moment as a waitress brought out a coffee for him. Always with that southern charm of his, calling most women he met darlin'. "What's on your mind, Walker. You called me, remember?"

John took a sip of his coffee, inhaled the aroma that came from the cup and looked across the small table to James. "What I gotta say, James, ain't somethin' ya tell a priest. I ain't gotta make right with the Lord, I gotta make right with my own concious."

"Does this look like a confessional? Did you ever see a priest with a sidearm and an Irish coffee?" James replied with a chuckle as he patted the gun holstered under his shoulder.

Walker chuckled as he lit a cigarette "Got it in one, James. Things changed a lot. People say I kinda a hard ass sometimes, but I guess that come from what I seen in my life." Walker's light hearted demeanor soon changed, like a performance vehicle stopping on a dime. "You ever heard o' a man named Operative Violet Rose?"

"Yep. Figured he had issues, since 'Violet Rose' sounds like some two-bit stripper name."

"Heh, yeah, I alway thought it were kinda a stupid name. But he were Illuminati," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee, then looked directly to James "An' I know the name an' the man, intimately." James arched an eyebrow as he nursed his own coffee. Part of him knew already where the conversation was going. "I quit, James. I got out. All fer one thing. A little girl. Life's too short an' too precious ta do the things I used ta do. 'Specially when there's some girl needs her daddy."

"There's always a woman, isn't there..." James sat back and rubbed his forehead.

"Maybe. But I got tired o' it. Tired o' the lies, tired o' the killin'. Don't go start sayin' I found the Lord 'r nuthin', b'cause I know damn well that I'm gonna burn in hell fer the things I done. I ain't got no disillusions 'bout bein' forgiven for what I done come judgement day. But maybe I can make right what needs ta be made right here an' now."

James looked down at his coffee and sighed again as he spoke in a quiet tone. "What do you need from me, John?"

"Fer now, just needed someone ta listen. I trust you, James. Ever since I first met ya. You got that look in yer eye that a man can know right 'way that he ain't gonna get no bull from ya." Walker took a long drag from the cigarette, then crushed it in the ash tray. "An' maybe I needed ta clear my own concious by sayin' it aloud ta someone else. Times gonna come when I may leave this world. An' I gotta know that Danny's gonna be able ta find someone ta look up ta."

"And you're looking here?" asked as he shook his head.

"Gonna show me some other place ta look?" John chuckled lightly. "Maybe I go up to Blue Steel an' let him know."

James studied John for a long time before answering, letting the Texan talk. He had read the reports of Operative Violet Rose, and he'd heard the man simply fell off the face of the planet. If what John was saying was true, then he had an arrest which would break open an entire organization, erasing years of chaos and death as Illuminati could be brought down. But he also knew John Walker. In the six years he'd seen the man work, he'd never seen anyone more dedicated to preserving the peace than this man. James took another sip of coffee and shook his head.

"John." James paused for just a moment as he thought of the right words to say. And realized, there was only one way to say what needed to be said. "I've known you for six years. And that has got to be the biggest line of bullshit I've ever heard." John Walker put his coffee cup down as he started to laugh aloud.

"Is that what you think it is?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Well, alright then. Maybe it is." John looked James right in the eye, and saw that there was something deeper to what the detective felt than was being said. It wasn't that he wouldn't believe it, it was that he was forcing himself not to believe it. "Alright. Then that's that." John looked at his watch and flashed a smile. "Gotta head back ta work m'self." He rose from his chair and placed the appropriate money on the table, enough to pay for both his and James's. "Miss," John said as a waitress came by. "Take care o' this young man. Keep 'im on 'is toes an' make sure he heads home alright." The waitress laughed at the comment and looked to Mallard. Mallard simply smiled.

"Keep your sights clean, Walker," James called after him.

"You better b'lieve it. See ya on the trail, Sherrif." Walker eased back into his vehicle, the smile never leaving his face.