The Second Seal Read online

  The Second Seal

  By

  Sean Deville

  First publication in Great Britain

  Copyright (C) Sean Deville 2020

  Visit the author’s website at www.seandeville.com

  Acknowledgement is made for permission to quote copyrighted materials

  Printed in Great Britain

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher. Please read the disclaimer page for full terms and conditions.

  This book is intended for entertainment purposes only, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental

  Readers advisory

  This novel is based on the biblical book of Revelation.

  It is an apocalyptic work of horror fiction. As such it seeks to portray a realistic account of the times we are in. This means it contains graphic descriptions of violence as well as what some may consider to be profane language.

  There will be death, there will be slaughter… there will be blood and gore.

  Also there are scenes depicting torture. These are necessary for the plot as will be revealed in later books.

  Whilst it contains religious themes, the book does not proclaim to be an accurate representation of the various religious texts.

  It is make believe for something that I hope never occurs.

  Revelation 6: 3-4

  And when he had opened the second seal, I heard the second beast say, Come and see.

  And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword.

  Demons

  Asmodai - Muhammad Yamani, Iranian Minister of Defence

  Baal

  Kane

  Beleth- Chairman of the Order of the Chosen

  Vine - Treasurer of the Order of the Chosen

  Balam - Secretary of the Order of the Chosen

  Inquisitors

  Lilith

  Lucien

  Father

  Librarian

  Cardinal Esposito

  Russian

  Major Dmitri Petrov

  Anastasia Turgenev

  Captain Kosta Pavlichenko

  Fedor Romanov

  Vadik Grachev

  Alek Popoff FSB director

  USA

  Chief of Staff of the Airforce, General David.

  General Patrick Martin, the commanding general USARPAC

  Admiral, Charles Hart, the Chief of Naval Operations

  Brian Fox - Special Agent with the US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) Counterterrorism and Criminal Exploitation Unit

  Civilians

  Damien/Legion

  Stone

  Horn

  Hargreaves

  Lucy

  Emily

  Vicky

  Mohammed

  Федеральная служба безопасности Российской

  Федерации

  Москва. 107031, ул.Большая Лубянка, дом 1/3

  FEDERAL SECURITY SERVICE

  OF THE RUSSIAN FEDERATION

  Moscow 107031, st.Bolshaya Lubyanka, building 1/3

  Security Level OB

  To: The President of the Russian Federation

  From: Alek Popoff, Director Federal Security Services

  Vladimir

  It is with deep regret that I write this letter. I still remember the look on your face when you were first informed about the demonic menace that constantly threatens this country, and you will recall the noble action you took to continue the activities of the FSB Wolf Squads. Due to the secretive and dedicated actions of these brave soldiers, we have so far been able to keep the demonic presence in this country to a minimum.

  The international threat level has continued to worsen. If you would read attached document XP14356-OB, I think it gives compelling evidence that we can no longer engage in a defensive action. Now is the time to go on the offensive. We may be able to coordinate with international allies in this fight, but I fear this is not something we can rely on.

  My main recommendation in the meantime is the compulsory genetic testing of all Russian citizens. This will be to highlight three things:

  Those who have the genetic characteristics that make them immune from demonic possession. A consideration should be made to recruit extra men and women from this pool as I feel they will be needed for what is to come. It is my belief that we need to expand the present personnel levels of the FSB Wolf Squads.

  Those who have the genetic characteristic that make them especially vulnerable to demonic possession. All such individuals should be removed from positions of authority. Our studies have put this figure at around twenty-two percent. Should the increase in the demonic threat be proven, considerations should be given to segregating these people away from population centres.

  There is an opportunity to use this developing crisis to remove the remnants of your political opposition. The government must speak with one voice, and no dissenting opinion can be allowed.

  Alek Popoff, Director, Federal Security Services

  1.

  August 10th

  London UK

  PC Bright hit the door with the handheld battering ram and wished he hadn’t bothered. The reverberation shook through him, the door obviously not willing to yield. He tried again for good measure, but there was no way this door was made of wood. It was four in the morning and most of the neighbourhood was going to be rudely awakened.

  “Breaching charge,” someone behind him said. Bright stepped back, men moving past him, explosives set on the door. They shouldn’t have to use such devices, but they had come prepared for everything.

  “Cover,” came the shout, men ducking out of the blast zone, the door finally failing as the shockwave hit it. Nobody paused. Instead, there were shouts as the line of men entered, each one knowing where they were going. Bright went straight up the staircase with others behind him.

  “Police, show yourself,” some of them shouted, a continuous mantra to add to the shock and awe they were hoping to inflict. A second blast occurred, the back door similarly breached as more men entered. They had been told they were after a possible terrorist, an assassin who likely wouldn’t surrender. “You need to be prepared to take her down”, they had been told, the Home Secretary himself there at the briefing. The officers’ ultimate boss had then added, “but I would gratefully appreciate it if you could take her alive.”

  This woman had killed dozens, they were told, and although she reportedly worked alone, there might be more than one assailant to deal with. They couldn’t mess this one up because this woman knew how to kill.

  Reaching the first floor, Bright cleared the first bedroom as his fellow officers surged past him. His adrenaline was up, the rush of the excitement surging through him. Sometimes he wondered if he might have the best job in the world. He wouldn’t be thinking that five minutes from now.

  “Living room clear,” the voice said over his earpiece. The bedroom contained nothing of worth, just dust and the ghosts of former owners. Who the hell lived like this?

  “First bedroom clear,” he relayed, on the move again.

  “Second bedroom clear,” his mate said in response.

  “Kitchen clear.” They knew she was here, so with every room they checked, the tension began to rise. Who would be the first to encounter her? Who would be the man that likely needed to shoot despite the Home Secretary’s urgings? They had all been shown what she achieved at the traffic intersection. All of them had been briefed she was the most likely suspect in the killing of a police officer and an MI5 agent. That m
ade her an even greater threat. Anyone willing to kill an agent of law enforcement represented a particular danger to the public. It also gave the police an added incentive to smash this bitch into the dirt.

  We look after our own, was Bright’s unofficial mantra.

  “Dining room clear.” Bright had done this dozens of times, and it never lost the excitement he had first experienced. Never once had he fired his weapon on such a raid, and he would prefer not to have to do so today. The paperwork would be tedious and the effects on his mental health uncertain. Better to find her, arrest her, and leave her fate to the courts. Bright wasn’t one to execute suspects on sight, but he knew there would be one or two officers who would be itching for that temptation. All their target had to do was give them a reason. She should have been found by now, though. Where the fuck was she?

  That’s when he smelt it through the thick balaclava he was wearing, the gagging and almost caustic assault on his nostrils.

  “I can smell gas on the first floor,” he said loudly. It came on thick, the sound of it escaping close by unmistakeable.

  “Gas on the ground floor,” came a confirmation.

  “Clear it out,” someone ordered, Bright was already moving, feet pounding down the uncarpeted steps. The eagerness with which they had stormed the place was replaced by an urgent desire to escape. Had they walked into a trap? Jesus, who the feck were they dealing with here? Nothing like this had ever been covered in his training.

  Bright wasn’t the last one out, which was fortunate for him. Two police officers died in the blast, the deliberate spark setting off an explosion that blew out every window despite their reinforced nature. Gas wasn’t the only threat here. The strategically reinforced walls of the terraced house had also been rigged with explosives, which were triggered at the same moment the gas was lit. That brought the whole structure down, damaging the two properties either side and hurling debris into the street.

  The news would report it as a gas explosion. Better to keep the public in the dark about what occurred.

  Bright might have survived, but lying in the outside road in a semi-concussed state, he realised he couldn’t hear out of his left ear. His left arm lay under him, a strange numbness encasing it. He hadn’t come away from the encounter unscathed and would soon learn that today was his last effective day as a police officer. His hearing had been permanently decimated.

  ***

  Lilith was meditating when the perimeter sensor went off. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to instantly rouse her from her inner peace. Within seconds she was in the adjoining room, the video monitors showing armed men had stepped through the gate at the front of her property. Despite her best efforts to avoid detection, Lilith felt a twinge of shame. She had been tracked across the city to a place she considered safe.

  As good as Inquisitors were, their luck usually ran out.

  Her use of this residence was obviously over, and her hand tightened on the satellite phone that had been her link to those she was now more reliant on than ever. It only took her seconds to send off the distress text message to indicate she had been compromised. Her time in London was also over, which meant an end to her presence in the UK as a whole. It didn’t matter, there were plenty of other countries that could hopefully use her skills. Throwing the phone to the floor, she smashed it several times under her boot. It was not something she wanted to fall into the hands of the police.

  If she could, she would escape from this predicament because she still had a mission to perform. Would the Order allow her to continue, though? Her identity had clearly been burned, with Lilith confused as to how she had been found. There was no way this level of police response could be a result of the traffic altercation she had been dragged into. This was a Metropolitan Police tactical team, nearly a dozen men front and back. That trap she had sensed the edges of became a little bit clearer.

  She detected the work of demons here, the one occupying the body of the Home Secretary in particular.

  Lilith didn’t hesitate. She didn’t know why or how they had found her, but she wasn’t planning on waiting around to ask them. This was one of the reasons she never used the rooms upstairs, their bare floors coated in thick dust due to disuse. The first floor wouldn’t have necessarily trapped her, exits available through the eaves to adjacent properties. But those could also be covered by those who wished to seize her, and escape through the roof was open to potential interception. With men at both the front and the rear, she only had one other point of exit, and she made her way there now.

  Besides, the adjacent properties wouldn’t be structurally safe for long. Better to go down away from what was coming.

  The door to the basement was accessed via the kitchen, and she moved through it as the hammering began on the front door. Fortunately, they had underestimated her defences, steel rather than wood meeting their attempts at entry. They should have instantly gone for breaching charges as the door they faced was too formidable. The police would find a similar problem with this basement door, it’s thick metal structure giving Lilith the precious seconds she would need.

  In the basement, she donned the clothes she had previously stored there, the black bullet-resistant garments rough against her skin. A shock wave rolled across her as the front door was finally penetrated, these attackers quick to adapt to the obstacles against them. She reckoned she had a minute at most, for the men would be entering fast, going room to room to try and find their target.

  In the small closet where she held her clothes, she also took the backpack which would help keep her alive until she was able to regroup. Inside was food, water, ten thousand pounds in cash, and enough firepower to start a small war. There were other things in the closet. For her immediate safety, Lilith strapped on a shoulder holster. This specific holster was designed to hold a pistol with the suppressor already attached, the gun it was about to mate with ready and waiting for her. She checked the Glock 17 out of habit, a gun that she reluctantly kept loaded, the potential for emergency requiring it be ready at all times. She swapped the magazines out on a weekly basis, a ritual she had been performing for years.

  The long overcoat she put on hid the weapon well, but the length of the weapon hampered her flexibility somewhat. Lilith could adapt to that. She was under attack, and she needed all the firepower she could get.

  If they had found her address, it likely meant her face was also known, so she finished her attire with a niqaab. She had once considered wearing a burka in the outside world, but she had always felt it too restrictive. She had also seen how such attire sometimes drew unwanted attention from the worst remnants of the British public. The niqaab was a good compromise and blended in well with her full black attire.

  “Living room clear,” came the muffled shout. The search progressed upstairs. Although the basement door was hidden, she knew they would quickly find it for every property like this in London held a basement. Pulling up the floor panel, she looked into the blackness, the tunnels below beckoning. She had a decision to make.

  Although they meant her harm, the police officers storming her abode were innocent tools in a battle fought in secret. They would have been told lies about her, a cover story to goad them into action. Whilst they were a threat to her, she would prefer not to kill them. Lilith had that ability and a choice to make. On the wall by the closet was an electronic panel which allowed her to open the valves to gas pipes that had strategically been placed throughout the building. If she activated it, the whole building would rapidly fill with mains-supplied gas, with no means to shut it off, including the basement. It was something she didn’t want to do, but she knew it was the only way to stop any kind of pursuit.

  “Kitchen clear.” They were being methodical, clearing the rooms, trying to isolate her. They would be searching for the basement to this property, the blueprints likely acquired. No doubt they would already be close to discovering that elusive entrance.

  There was another aspect to the basement Lilith had hoped she
would never have to use. Opening a large freezer, she looked down at the body inside. Female, about her height, long since dead. With difficulty, she pulled out the corpse, its frozen form awkward and rigid. Letting it fall to the floor, Lilith knew it wouldn’t fool them for long. But once the fire she was about to start had died down, it would at least give them something to concentrate on whilst she fled into the night.

  Lilith activated the panel. She could say a prayer for those she killed later.

  With everything set, Lilith descended down the ladder to the darkness below, the cover pulled into place behind her. The demon occupying the Home Secretary would hopefully think a threat had been eliminated. Lilith was eager to correct him of that assumption and was looking forward to sinking her knife into the bastard’s neck.

  She let the blackness consume her. She knew her way around down here; had practiced the escape route dozens of times. She had no reason to suspect anyone would be lurking in these tunnels, but she pulled her gun free anyway. Knives wouldn’t be enough for the foe she presently faced.

  Then the roof shook above her, dust and debris falling, but she was already far enough away from the property to ensure there would be no cave in of the tunnel roof above her. She had escaped.

  Or so she thought.

  2.

  Silicon Valley, USA

  Alone once again, although the electronic eyes constantly spied on him.

  With what he had learnt and witnessed over the past few hours, Ari Stone quickly came to the realisation the only way out of this predicament was to kill himself. It was the solitary logical escape for the madness he now found himself trapped within. Stone could sit in this room and write Horn’s bastard book, or he could remove himself from the equation altogether. Another life snuffed out to go with the millions ended every year. And if he was going down to the hot place anyway, then let it be on his own terms. Better to accept his single death rather than the billions that were otherwise destined to be ended should Horn’s book ever be written. The sacrifice wouldn’t even be noble, his own selfishness demanding Stone not be a part in the world’s coming ills.