When they arrived at ‘t Hommelhof, the parking lot was uncharacteristically empty save for a few poorly disguised tourists whose gazes were a bit too sharp and attentive. Some wore Adidas track suits, one or two wore suits, while a few others wore picture tees and ball caps.
“Your security could use some lessons on looking more natural,” Pablo said to Pieter.
“Sometimes looking like security is just as useful,” Pieter replied. “We’re a series of Black SUVs with NATO decals on the door and Americans in the back. To everyone around here, it’s just a group of dignitaries making a trip out to the country from Brussels to one of our more renowned restaurants.”
“And are they secure? Have you screened them?” Delilah asked, taking the pointed questions.
“These are some of our most trusted and longest-serving pack members. The family has trusted them with our lives on many occasions. Some are cousins or nephews and nieces. Others have married into the family. This is our righteous core. They’ve swept the restaurant for any bugs, and the restaurant has allowed us to install basic sound proofing in the room we’ll be dining in. Short of being in a concrete bunker, we should be fine for basic discussions. Since we’re almost there, I have a few instructions. You are the American dignitaries, no names until we’re in the room, and let my people open doors for you.”
Pieter parked and turned off the engine. He stepped out of the SUV as the other doors were opened from the outside, letting Luke, Delilah, Pablo, and Sam slide out. The other SUV received the same treatment.
Pieter stepped next to Luke and leaned in close, whispering, “Do you sense any vampires?”
Luke’s eyes twitched around, inspecting the buildings and looking for hidden nooks. “Nothing since we’ve arrived.”
“Good.” Pieter gestured toward the restaurant. A couple of the pack’s security personnel opened the door. Pieter led the way in, stopping next to the chef.
“My friends, please allow me to introduce Chef Stefaan who will be our host this evening and has prepared a special menu featuring some of Belgium’s finest local products.”
“Welcome to ‘t Hommelhof,” the chef said. “I hope you enjoy our menu as much as we enjoyed creating it for you.”
Luke stepped up and shook Stefaan’s hand and spoke in Flemish Dutch. “Thank you for having us this evening and for preparing a special menu. It has been too long since I’ve dined here, and I’m glad I have the opportunity to once again taste your fine cuisine.”
Pablo leaned over to Jamaal. “Now he’s just showing off.”
Delilah snorted.
In the same language, Stefaan replied, “You speak excellent Flemish for an American. Do all your party speak it so well?”
“Just me, although they have a host of other talents,” Luke said, nodding his thanks.
Pieter led Luke toward the room in the back while everyone shook the chef’s hand before following Luke and Pieter. When Pieter’s father, also named Pieter, saw Luke, he walked across the room, placing his hands on Luke’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug and a greeting kiss on the cheek.
“It is so good to see you again, my friend, although it seems like it can never be under better circumstances,” Pieter van den Bergh the elder said.
Luke nodded respectfully. “It’s the way of things for people like us. It is good to see you again.”
“Would you care to join me for a drink?”
“Of course.”
Pieter the elder grabbed a full glass with “Boon” scrawled on the side and handed it to Luke. “The Mariage Parfait Geuze Boon. I believe you’re a fan?”
“Your younger son has an excellent memory,” Luke replied.
“I requested some be brought in for the dinner.”
One by one, Luke’s friends joined them in the room as servers handed out glasses of the same beer. Pablo wandered over, looking at his glass thoughtfully, and took another sip.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a beer quite like this,” Pablo mused.
Luke chuckled. “I don’t think you have the time, space, or set up to brew lambic.”
Pieter the elder looked confused.
Luke put his arm around Pablo’s shoulder. “My friend here is a brewer and owns a brewpub back home.”
Once everyone had a glass, the servers left the room, Jan shutting the doors behind them. Bolsters at the top, bottom, and sides of the door helped sound proof the room. Jan pressed his ear to the door, his werewolf hearing allowing him to listen easily. After a moment, he looked at his father and nodded.
Pieter the elder, face stern, nodded. “Thank you for coming, Luke, and for putting up with all the subterfuge. If I had my preference, I’d host you in one of the finest restaurants in Antwerp.”
Luke smiled. “It’s no problem, but I’m not sure you could have done much better than ‘t Hommelhof. It’s one of my favorites.”
Pieter leaned over closer to Luke. “Ah, mine too if I’m being truthful. I hope your friends enjoy it as much as you do.”
“They’re an easy-going bunch. I’m sure they’ll be satisfied. Please, let me introduce you.” Luke turned to his friends. “This is Pieter van den Bergh the elder, our host and leader of the Flanders Pack. Pieter, these are my friends and comrades.” Luke chuckled and smiled at Pablo as he concentrated on the sour beer in his glass. “Pablo is the second of North Portland Pack and is currently figuring out if he can start making spontaneously fermented beers in Portland.”
Pieter laughed and nodded.
“Sam is the wife of the packleader and a senior council member. Jamaal is another member of the pack council.”
Jamaal nodded politely.
“This is Delilah. She’s the other human in the group and a fierce fighter and dear friend. She’s also a student of art and aficionado of the Flemish masters.”
Pieter’s eyebrows moved up as he made an appreciative sound. “If we have time, I’d love to talk art with you.”
Delilah blushed and stammered, “I’d…I’d r-r-really like that, sir.”
Luke introduced the rest of the crew. When he was finished, Pieter the younger introduced the Flanders Pack members in attendance for the dinner.
While they waited for the first course, Belgians and Portlanders mingled, getting to know the people they’d just been introduced to. Though they were meeting under less-than-ideal circumstances, both sides put it aside to enjoy meeting their new allies. Luke stepped back and watched the room, spying Delilah also standing out of the way. He grabbed a bottle and topped off his beer before strolling over to his friend to lean against the wall next to her.
“Two years ago, did you think you’d be in Belgium about to have dinner with three of the Flemish masters because you’re here to help kill some vampires?” Luke asked.
Delilah laughed. “No part of that sentence would’ve ever crossed my mind in a million years. It’s fucking surreal.”
“If you like the surrealists, we can try to find time to visit the Magritte Museum in Brussels.”
She smirked and shook her head. “I suppose you used to pal around with René Magritte back in the day?”
Luke chuckled. “No. I didn’t get in with the Belgian surrealists. I spent the twenties and thirties in Paris, then left for the US a few years after the Second World War ended. How are you doing, Delilah?”
“Tired.”
“Yeah. I hope they don’t plan on keeping us too late. I can keep going if I have to, but I’d like to tuck in and get a good night’s sleep.” Luke stifled a yawn.
When a diffident knock on the door drew their attention, the van den Bergh’s directed everyone to sit down for the first course. The chef lead them through three immaculate courses featuring late summer and early fall fresh food sourced locally and prepared perfectly. Each course was paired with beer or wine, depending on the diners’ preferences. By the time they reached the dessert course, Luke and his friends were decidedly mellow, full of delicious food and drinks, and tired from their travels. After the dishes were cleared, they ordered digestifs and a round of coffees, Luke taking a decaf espresso. They notified the staff that if they needed anything further, they’d open the doors and request their presence.
Pieter the elder stood, holding up a glass of expensive cognac. “I wish to thank you all for being here and raise a glass to our new friends from Oregon.”
Everyone hoisted their glasses, touching them against the glasses of those around them.
“I wish this dinner could have taken place during a time when we weren’t gathered for urgent business.” Pieter sighed. “No one likes to admit this, least of all me, but we have a leak in our pack, one that is betraying vital secrets to our enemies, the enemies of all decent people—human or wolf. This leak”—he said, his lip curled in disgust as if the word stunk—“is feeding our movements and details of our operations in the south to the new leader of the vampires trying to retake Wallonia, the one who calls himself Le Mousquetaire. Whether he was one of the elite soldiers of Louis XIV or Cardinal Richelieu is unknown, although rumor says he wields a period rapier and knows how to use it. We have lost many packmates to the vile hands of the vampires.”
He took a swig of his cognac and exhaled loudly. “We’ve invited you here to help because we’ve exhausted our internal options short of interrogating every person in the pack one by one. It’s hard to investigate what the left hand is doing using the right hand…” Pieter sat down and ran his hand down his face. “We hope you can find what we haven’t been able to, but whatever happens, we will be eternally grateful to you and hope this is the start of a deep friendship between our packs.”
The early air of conviviality disappeared, replaced by a general wariness as eyes narrowed and shoulders rose. Until then, everything had been basic logistics, easily solved. Now, with their feet on the ground, they’d need to get to the bottom of Pieter’s problem, one that could easily beset the North Portland Pack if the vampires got their way. Luke hoped they’d be up to the investigation—hoped he’d be able to help his friend and keep his packmates safe. They’d been successful so far, but after nearly dying and losing Archie, what would be the price this time?
* * *
Sleepy and well fed, Luke and his crew returned to their vehicles. Pieter the younger and Jan jumped in the backs of the SUVs and grabbed two guards who hadn’t had anything to drink to function as the team’s chauffeurs. Jan and Pieter’s father were staying in the nearby town of Poperinge.
They followed the packleader’s cars out of the parking lot and took a right while Pieter the elder and his escort proceeded straight down Douvieweg. After a couple hundred feet, Luke’s team turned onto Trappistenweg, the road that’d led back to the St. Bernardus Bed and Breakfast. A few minutes later, they were parked and standing around outside enjoying the warm night air.
“Would you care to share a bottle of the Abt 12 with me before heading to bed?” Pablo asked Luke.
“Sure, I think I’ve got room for a few more ounces of beer,” Luke replied.
“Mind if I join you?” Jamaal asked.
Luke stretched. “Not at all.”
The sound of Pieter’s phone pulled Luke’s attention away from his friend.
“Shit!” Pieter paced back and forth, then hung up. “We have to go. Father was ambushed.”
Brow furrowing, Luke exhaled aggressively through his nose. “Fuck. So much for that beer. Give us a moment to gear up.”
Pieter exchanged a look with Jan, then nodded. “Hurry.”
“You heard the man,” Luke called, striding toward the entrance.
Everyone jogged into the building and up to their rooms. Luke opened the lid on his travel case and pulled the top protective layer out. In a few moments, he wore his armor along with the tactical utility belt and straps for his weapons—gladius strapped to his left hip and his wooden rudis slung over the shoulder for a left-hand draw. He stared into the case for one moment, then made a decision. He reached in and grabbed a new sword with a black leather scabbard accented with silver. The small hilt guard featured a series of interconnected swirls resembling a stylized cloud.
Luke was the last down the stairs, but only by a few seconds. “Delilah?”
The tall Black woman stepped out from behind one of the SUVs, a Winchester M12 in her left hand. “Yes?”
“I wanted to do this with a bit more ceremony, but you’ll have to give it a baptism in blood.” Luke held out the jian, laying it horizontal across both hands. “I had it custom made for you. There’s a bit of silver in the alloy as well as in the etching of the design.”
Delilah reached out and took the hilt in her hand—Luke gripping the scabbard—and pulled the straight, double-edged short sword from its sheath. The light danced down the blade and the intricate engraving featuring a sun motif.
Sam had wandered over and peaked around Delilah. “Oh, that’s gorgeous, Delilah.”
Delilah, the words stripped from her, could only nod.
“Y’all about ready?” Pablo called, shutting the back of the SUV he was loading.
Delilah grabbed the scabbard and shoved the sword back into it. The crew piled into their vehicles, and they were soon on their way, speeding down the narrow country roads.
“Right onto Kapellestraat,” Pieter called from the front passenger seat. “It’ll be the second left. Spaarpotweg.”
“Understood,” replied their driver.
Pieter turned to speak to the rest of the passengers. “We’re only a couple minutes out. Once we arrive, let’s sweep out. The drivers will stay with the vehicles to defend them. Father said they’d hold out as long as possible.”
Pieter tried to contain his worry, but Luke had come to know him well during their time working together in Portland; he could hear the concern bordering on distress in his friend’s voice.
Pablo, looking Luke over with his exposed armor, pointed at Luke’s chest. “Going for the shiny look tonight?”
“I was trying to save an extra second or two by not looking for my hoodie. Besides, It’s dark out here and you all are going to have shotguns. Shiny seemed like a good idea. Let’s give Pieter my M12. I’ll sweep up the middle, y’all sweep out on either side.”
“Right,” Pablo said.
Pieter slid his phone into his pocket. “Jan and his team are going to go around and come at them from the other side.” He reached out and tapped the driver’s arm. “This will do. We’ll go the rest of the way on foot. Let us out and get the car turned around in case we have to move fast.”
The SUV stopped, and the team jumped out, meeting at the back hatch to hand out the shotguns and ammo belts. Geared up, they shut the door and jogged up front, Pieter slapping the hood of the SUV to let the driver know they were off. The headlights shifted around as the driver followed his instructions to turn around.
They looked down the road, surveying their surroundings.
“That brush and those trees mask what’s further down the road and around those curves,” Luke said. He hated blind approaches.
“There’s a faint glow down further. Maybe a house light or something,” Sam replied. “Pieter, do you know what’s up ahead?”
Pieter shrugged. “Not really. There are a lot of farms around here. Maybe a farmhouse?”
“You feeling any vampires, Luke?” Delilah asked.
“Yeah, not sure how many, though. Anyone hear anything?” Luke directed that question toward the werewolves.
“No. Not nearly enough noise, that’s for sure. We should be hearing weapon fire.” Pieter’s face tightened with concern.
Luke squeezed Pieter’s shoulder. “Alright, it’s likely another ambush. Let your brother know. Let’s get moving.”
“I guess so. It worked the first time.” Pieter nodded and pulled out his phone, sending a text to his brother. “OK. He’s prepared.”
Pointing toward the distant glow, Luke jogged up the middle of the small road, Pieter and Delilah on his right, and Sam and Pablo on his left. Delilah had shoved the scabbard of her new jian under her belt like Sam wore her wakizashi and katana. Each of them held their shotguns, shells loaded and ready to fire.
They jogged around the left curve. Ahead, they could see a flickering light.
“Fire,” Luke muttered, hoping it wasn’t.
When they approached the end of the right curve, Luke held his hand up to halt his friends. He reached across his body and pulled his gladius from its scabbard before moving forward.
“By that break of trees, there’s a small cluster of buildings. I think I see something on fire ahead,” Luke whispered over his shoulders, waving everyone forward.
As they made it around the curve, Luke moved to the left edge of the road and waved to the right. Pieter hopped the fence and fanned out wide. Delilah lined up on the right edge of the road. Pablo and Sam swept out on the left side.
So far, Luke saw no motion except the hulk flaming in the middle of the road near the cluster of buildings. The light on the side of the house combined with the flames of what had been one of Pieter the elder’s vehicles. A few lumps lay ahead in the road around the burning hulk. He hoped they weren’t what they were likely to be, but with every step closer, that hope become more foolhardy.
When they reached the first one, Luke squatted next to the body of a man. Grabbing the man’s shoulder, Luke flipped him over, recognizing one of the guards who had patrolled the parking lot outside ‘t Hommelhof just thirty minutes ago. His throat had been ripped out, taking most of the neck with it.
“Luke! Incoming!”
Doors banged open on the farmhouse on his left and the scrappy outbuilding to his right. On both sides, the sound of M12s barked to life, spewing death toward the undead. Luke pulled the rudis from its sheath on his back and waited for the first vampire to reach him.
The gleam of the fire flickered over something metallic and dark in the vampire’s hand. Luke spun around and darted behind the burning hulk, catching another vamp by surprise. Luke hesitated—surprised as well—but lashed out, stabbing the fanger through the stomach with the gladius. The vamp grasped toward Luke, but he batted her arms aside with his rudis and pulled the gladius out, shoving the vampire back. Without the blade in her guts, she doubled over. He pushed her toward the burning debris of the SUV and followed, stabbing her through the heart with the rudis as she tried to backpedal away.
“You…” The vamp with the gun had cleared the car.
Luke spun, holding up the vampire he’d just stabbed and using it to block the armed vamp. He charged forward and dislodged the cadaver, launching it toward the other vamp. As the body left his rudis, it dissolved into a mass of goo, its momentum carrying it into the vamp with a gun. In the split second of the goo’s impact, the vamp cringed away, signing its death warrant as Luke lunged forward, plunging the gladius into its heart and turning it into a cloud of dust.
Luke turned and looked for the next vamp to engage. Finding one, he charged after it. Luke pressed against the wall of the farmhouse. He whipped around at the sound of feet pounding down the narrow road. He was readying for a fight when the familiar face of Jan van den Bergh materialized out of the dark. Luke heaved a sigh of relief.
Seeing Luke, Jan called a halt and directed Jamaal and the rest of the Portland crew, sending two right and two left, before jogging up to Luke.
“You find any of our people?” Jan asked.
“Not alive. You?”
“No.” Jan deflated. “What now?”
“Let’s clear up these vampires and go from there.”
Jan nodded and pulled the hammer back on the submachine gun strapped over his shoulder. With a grim face, he walked along the wall and stepped around the corner, opening fire on the vamps pinned down by Sam and Pablo.
When his gun clicked empty, he called out, “Clear!”
Luke followed Jan around the corner and tidied up, sending the vampires, some still moving feebly, to their final deaths. Jan pulled the empty magazine from his gun and replaced it, racking a bullet into the firing chamber. Sam and Pablo jogged up. Taking the opportunity, they shoved shells into the magazine on their shotguns.
“What next, Luke?” Sam asked.
“You three, come with me. Let’s sweep the house.”
Just then, Jamaal and one of the Belgians rounded the corner, guns at the ready. The sound of guns firing by the other building rang out.
“Jamaal, you two check if you can help across the way, we’re going to sweep through the house.”
“Got it, Luke.” Jamaal gave a salute and jogged off, the Belgian following behind.
Luke, Jan, Sam, and Pablo readied themselves near the back door into the house. Luke counted down from three, then shoved the door open, stepping out of the way as his comrades swept in. While they checked the rooms, Luke flipped on the lights and checked the room to his left, peeking under the bed and tossing the closet.
“Clear!” Sam called.
“Clear,” Pablo added.
“We’ve only got this last door, looks like a basement.” Jan pointed toward a door next to the one Luke walked out of.
Luke reached down but only felt jeans. He hadn’t taken the time to grab his sawed-off Stephens 311s from his gear case. They were perfect for situations like this.
“Looking for your sawed-offs?” Pablo asked.
“Yeah. Didn’t take time to throw them on.”
“Do you sense any vamps? With all the smells, it’s hard to tell if there any live ones left over here,” Sam said.
“I don’t think so, but better safe than sorry,” Luke replied.
“I got it.” Pablo stepped toward the door.
Luke grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Pablo jumped in, pointing his shotgun down the stairs. With each step down, the stairs creaked eerily.
“Luke, hit the light switch,” Pablo called up.
Luke reached into the doorway and flipped the switch on the wall.
“Holy fuck…” Pablo gasped.
“Is it clear?” Luke asked.
“Yeah.”
Luke started down the stairs and stopped behind Pablo, bending over to look under the ledge of the ceiling. A pile of bodies was stacked in the far corner, blood splattered around the walls and leaking from the corpses, sending rivulets across the floor where it sloped to the middle.
Pablo took his first step since stopping, his legs wobbling. Luke sheathed his weapons and stabilized Pablo, helping him down the stairs. Once they reached the bottom, Pablo, tears in his eyes, turned and faced the wall so he wouldn’t have to look at the sight anymore.
“Luke, what’s going on down there?” Sam asked.
“The fucking fangers slaughtered the family that lived here. Stay up there. You don’t want this in your head,” Luke yelled upstairs.
He placed his arm around Pablo’s shoulder and leaned into his best friend. “It’s OK. You don’t have to be down here. Do you want to go back upstairs?”
Pablo nodded weakly.
Luke turned and yelled upstairs, “Sam, can you kill the lights down here for a minute?”
“Sure.”
A moment later, the lights flicked out. Luke turned Pablo toward the stairs and helped him up the first few steps, standing between Pablo and the view his werewolf eyes might still be able to see. Once Pablo’s head cleared the ledge so the view was blocked, Luke gave Pablo’s shoulders a final squeeze and let his friend walk the rest of the way up.
“Lights on again, please,” Luke called once Pablo was out of the stairwell.
“You sure you don’t need some help down there?” Jan called.
“I don’t. Stay up there.”
Luke had no idea what horrors his friends had seen over their long lives. At around one hundred seventy some years old, Sam was the youngest of the quartet. Luke had been subject to the horrors perpetrated by vampires for over nineteen hundred years. The sight of the brutally murdered family had shaken Pablo to his core.
Luke steeled himself and turned around. Although he was inured to it, largely, those visions still stuck with him, haunting his memory and dreams. His near-perfect memory allowed him to perform his task as Mithras’s chosen soldier against the vampire scourge, but it meant everything he saw could be called up whether he wanted that information stored in his brain or not. Maggie, comforting him, had said his humanity, and the fact he still cared so much after surviving and witnessing horrors, was one of the special things about him. He wished he could forget at least some of it. He’d tried numbness, but that hadn’t worked in the end, burying him in a world of isolation and depressed loneliness.
He scanned the basement to see if there was anything that should attract his attention. Finding nothing of significance, he moved closer to the bodies. The kills had been brutal. The parents and three children didn’t stand a chance when their house became the randomly chosen site of a battle between vampires and werewolves. The vamps had trapped Pieter van den Bergh the elder on this side road and simply taken the house when they wanted to set their ambush for the next round.
As much damage had been done to the bodies, at least their demises would have been fast. He shook his head and stood up, turning around. There was nothing more he could learn from this mess.
When he rejoined his friends upstairs, Sam had her arm around Pablo’s shoulder as he rested his head against hers. Jan stood to the side, minding his own business with the people who were virtual strangers to him. Luke didn’t hear any gun fire outside.
That mystery was solved a moment later when Pieter jogged up to the door and popped his head in. “Cleaned them out over there. At least as far as I can tell.”
“Thanks, Pieter. We should get everyone gathered up. We’re bound to get someone officious here soon to check out this mess.”
“Did you find father’s…” Jan stopped before saying “body.”
“No. None of the bodies are him,” Pieter replied. “I have the box van we used on its way so we can clear out the bodies.”
“That’s a good idea,” Luke replied. “We don’t want to leave any evidence that’ll interfere with what we’re trying to do.”
“What about father?” Jan asked.
Luke put his hand on Jan’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Right now, no news is good news. If we’re not finding him here, that means there’s still a chance he’s alive. He’s far more valuable to the fangers breathing than dead.”
Luke was nearly as worried about his friend as his sons were, but right now, the best thing he could do was remain strong and in control to ensure things didn’t worsen.
Jan nodded.
One of Pieter’s werewolves jogged up and said in Flemish, “The van is here.”
“Good, get the bodies loaded up and get out of here. Take them back to Antwerp so we can deal with it there,” Pieter replied.
Sam cleared her throat. “What do we do about…downstairs?”
Pieter looked confused.
“The bodies of the people who owned this house. The vampires were not kind when they took this house,” Luke supplied.
“They’ll have to be left for the local authorities. We’ll investigate later and intervene if we need to,” Pieter said.
Luke nodded. “OK. Let’s move—”
“Luke, get out here!”
Just starting to come down from the initial adrenaline dump, a new one surged through his veins at the sound of urgency. Luke ran to the door and through it, Pieter joining him. Jamaal waited for him at the corner of the house and turned and walked back to the road. When Luke cleared the corner of the house, he saw what had drawn the attention of Jamaal. The bright beams of a car illuminated the tiny road.
“What’s going on?” Luke asked.
“They pulled up and parked a minute ago,” Jamaal replied.
Luke squinted, trying to determine the newest threat. “Did they look like cops or anything?”
Jamaal shrugged. “Don’t know. Couldn’t see. It’s darker than the inside of my boot out here. They stopped and flipped the lights on. They’ve been sitting there since.”
While they waited, someone stepped out of the car and stepped in front of the lights. They held their hands in the air and slowly walked forward.
“Dogs!” the silhouette yelled in Flemish.
“What do you want?” Pieter replied.
“We have the old man!” He waved one of his hands. “We’ll call you with instructions. If you want him back alive, you’d better listen.” He bent down and set something on the ground. “I’m going to leave now. If you try to stop us, we will kill the old man. If you kill any more vampires, the old man dies. The more transgressions you stack up at his door, the longer we’ll take doing it, and it takes a long time for a werewolf to die. Do you understand, dog?”
“I do,” Pieter replied.
The silhouette backed away and slid into the passenger side. The door slammed shut, and the car moved in reverse, pulling into the field before turning around and slamming into drive, sending up a cloud of dirt and dust from the field. When their taillights disappeared around a corner, Luke and Pieter walked up to inspect what the vampire had left.
Luke pulled out his cell phone and turned on the flashlight. Together, they squatted over the cheap burner phone, checking to make sure it was as it should be. When Pieter looked at him, Luke shrugged. Pieter picked the phone up and looked over the mobile device, popping off the battery cover and sliding it back into place.
“Looks like a mobile,” Pieter replied. He turned the mobile phone on and looked through it. “Nothing here.”
“When we get a moment, I’ll have Jamaal check it over for any tracking or bugs we don’t want giving us away. Do we wait here for a few more minutes, or do we move out?” Luke asked.
“We’ve been here too long. We need to move,” Pieter replied.
“Right.” Luke placed his hand on Pieter’s shoulder. “We’ll get him back.”
Pieter nodded. “Get everyone back to the bed-and-breakfast. They’ve got my father. I don’t think they’ll make another run at us tonight.”
“I’ll see you shortly.” Luke turned and walked back to the crowd waiting to see what was happening next.
Once his team was in their ride, they took off for the short drive back to their bed-and-breakfast.
“Do you think we’ll be safe? Do you think they know where we’re staying?” Sam asked.
“Probably. To both. But we should keep a watch tonight. I’ll take the first one. Tomorrow, we’ll go to ground for a few days and sort things out.” Luke turned and stared out the window at the dark farmland rolling by. They weren’t covered in trenches like a hundred years ago, but they were just as blood-soaked after tonight.