His cloak billowed in the wind as he stood on the rock face that looked out onto the waters of the triangle. These islands, with such history, and he would only add to it. But to do that, he would have to make such alliances as with those that would populate the area. He spent several years studying the different organizations that seemed to be the most powerful and would suit his needs. Interpol, CSIS Paranormal Division and even MI-5 Paranormal Division were definitely out of the question for his needs. He would have to rely on those with much more clandestine actions.
The Weavers at first looked promising, as did the Forgotten Ones. But each in it’s own right held onto the past and refused to accept new ways. This was a problem. Don Maximus was too well known. Illuminati, too secret. This left the organization known as the Heritage Front. They would fit his needs perfectly. Especially when he suggested that he could raise a real vampire to lead their soldiers in battle. This was much more promising to the leaders of the Front. Especially when they spent so much time creating fake vampires and werewolves to fill in for their army.
They just needed the proper materials. And one of those materials needed to be transported by someone unsuspecting. The hiring of mercenaries, while not particularly wanted, was the only solution. And even better when one of honour is found, and with the proper story concocted, then any man would follow along. And now, information had reached his ears that indeed such a man had been reached. His real name was unknown, but he went by one of two names; Operative Violet Rose and Derringer. A gunslinger with old west honour and justice in his heart. The right story would indeed be required. And if they died, then mores the pity. Such is life in the Isles.
“Sir,” a smartly dressed adjutant spoke in a respectful tone. “Reports coming in of three people on horseback.”
The man in the expensive looking robes nodded in response, looking in the direction the adjutant mentioned. “Let them come. We shall deal with the in a business-like fashion. After all, we have the right information to give them. They won’t back down from what we tell them,” he replied finally in his impeccable speech. The adjutant nodded, nearly bowing to the man, and turned to carry out his duties as the man remained where he was. The wind again picked up the cloak, billowing it out just slightly, almost as if it were a signal to him. And he pulled the hood away from his head, letting long, golden trusses of hair flow free around his shoulders. The long hair barely hid his heritage, his finely pointed ears betraying his elven ancestry. And if anyone on Earth were to have an clue, they might have recognized the amulet that hung about his neck. A red wizard. On his world, much more powerful than anything on Earth, but on this third rock from old sol, he had to rebuild his power.
Amen’Dell Ger’utinam breathed deep as he smiled, today would definitely be a good day. He scanned the horizon carefully. The three riders were in the distance. This “sherriff” and his “deputies”, as he learned was the proper term for a man such as this. His mind was distracted as a glint of light caught his attention. Amen’Dell furrowed his brow and snapped his fingers, motioning toward the direction he saw the light. “Please see what that was,” he said in a calm voice. “I’ll not have anything disturb this meeting. And I won’t tolerate failure.” The adjutant snapped to attention then moved to carry out his orders. Amen’Dell turned his attention from the light back to the riders. Nothing would stop him. He was too close now.
Had he continued to study the reflection, he might understand more without having to send troops to investigate. Two hundred meters away, a lithe figure of a woman lowered her binoculars. She quickly stored them and took out a rifle, making certain it was loaded. This woman was similar to Amen’Dell in a way. At least, in heritage. The slender frame, the pale skin, and her sharp tipped ears. The one thing that gave away her elven heritage. But she knew Earth technology all too well. Pania Alow began to hunker down in a small culvert, waiting patiently. She’d been following this elven mage for months since he arrived on Earth from their home plane. He was dangerous. And he had to be stopped. But she needed to find out what he was searching for.
Turn the Page 