Tau8: project Bifrost chapter 1

Chapter 1

Up until now, Sanderson pondered, it had been a fairly good day. He’d won twenty quid on a scratch-card, he hadn’t ended up next to a screaming child on his flight across the Atlantic, he’d managed to check into his hotel without any trouble and there was nothing missing when he picked up his weapons, tools and orders from the Warehouse-linked drop-box. Then the mission happened, and all Sanderson’s positive vibes vanished in the time it took West, the sniper from Lil’ Jimmy’s chapter, to turn his gun on his own team.
It should have been a simple operation. Two chapters of agents were sent in to interrupt the sale of some stolen (and possibly supernatural) relics, analyse the goods and then get some of the Brotherhood’s contacts in the local police to clear up the evidence and take credit for the arrests. Two problems: firstly the guilty parties had brought along a bit more muscle than expected, and secondly some of that muscle came from the Brotherhood teams themselves.
A bullet tearing through the wall next to Sanderson’s head brought his attention back to the present situation. He ducked further into the alcove he was using a cover and took stock of the situation. The large room to his right that may have once been an open-plan office had become a kill-zone. At least three thugs in creepy white armour stood out there with automatic weapons sporting what looked like cheap homemade silencers. Sgt Barker, his chapter-leader lay dead just out of reach.
Crouching in a doorway across the room from his position, Sanderson noticed one of Jimmy’s team, a bald tattoo-covered man of Tibetan origin. He was trying to put a field-dressing on the badly mangled leg of Maria, the team’s forensics bod. The man met Sanderson’s gaze and gestured to him that two of the white-armoured men were approaching. Nodding in acknowledgement, Sanderson reached for his weapon; a large, heavily modified revolver, and checked it was loaded. Sanderson thanked any power that would take credit that the enemy either lacked grenades or perhaps didn’t have the sense to use them.
The two soldiers spotted Maria and the tattooed guy. One muttered something to the other in a language that Sanderson didn’t speak. Without waiting to hear the other’s reply, Sanderson opened fire on the closer of them. His revolver barked loudly as the high-calibre bullet smashed through the armour of his target’s torso and dragged him to the ground. The other leapt for cover as a burst of suppressing fire from remaining armoured soldier rained through the area.
The gout of autofire came to a sudden end when the gun clicked empty and the soldier yelled another unfamiliar word, this time one that Sanderson assumed should not be used in front of grandparents or small children.
Still half-panicked, Sanderson hurriedly returned fire. His first shot either missed the target or bounced of his armour, but the second entered through an eye-slit and took most of his head off.
It was then that Sanderson remembered the guy who had leapt for cover. Expecting a bullet in the back any second, Sanderson whirled round with his weapon raised. He was relieved to see the soldier lying on the ground unconscious, with the tattooed man standing over him, a metal rod clutched in either hand.
‘Thanks mate” Sanderson gasped, before looking to Maria “how is she?’
‘A bullet caught her just beneath the knee. She’s passed out. My mother’s gift was able to slow the bleeding and hold the bone in place, but it will be a while before she’s active again’ the tattooed man sounded eerily calm as he responded ‘Thank you for your help. I’m Raphael by the way’
‘I’m glad to have you here. Call me Sand. You said something about your “mother’s gift”?’
‘I can ease wounds somewhat with a touch and a few prayers. My mother was an angel of mercy. I am of the nephilim.’
‘We need to see if anyone else survived. Get Maria into one of the side rooms so she’s out of the way. I’ll make sure these guys are secured then we’ll make our move.’
Sanderson reloaded his weapon, searched his fallen opponents for anything useful and tried to get his thoughts in order.

The two of them cautiously explored the battle-damaged remains of the building. The fighting had died down, but neither of them wanted to take any unnecessary risks. Without the gunfire, the whole building seemed unpleasantly quiet.
Hearing glass crunch underneath nearby feet that were not his own, Sanderson threw himself to the floor. A large sword cut through the air where his head was less than a second ago. The assailant, a tall woman with long blond hair and a dress sense that looked like a haphazard combination of dark-age armour and student fashion, was preparing for another strike when Raphael’s yell of ‘Laura! Stop!’ froze her in place.
‘Sorry babe, I thought you might have been another one of those legion guys.’ she said in a voice that was almost a giggle as she offered Sanderson a hand up.
‘Legion?’
‘Yeah, those guys in white armour. They’re called the Ivory Legion. I’ve fought them before.’
‘Any idea what happened to anyone else?’
‘The boss and Kowalski are both wounded, but they’ll live. West and Davidson did a runner once the fighting slowed down a bit. I assume they left with the targets. I think everyone else bought it.’
‘Crap. This mission has been an utter failure. We’d better salvage what we can and pull out before the cops arrive.’