Twenty Three

The KS-43 was a miracle of modern engineering, it was a blessing to all military groups everywhere. The KS-43 was lightweight and had a minimum of moving parts. It could keep functioning if it was covered in mud, submerged in sea water or driven over by a tank. It’s lightweight small frame allowed for easy operation by anyone from trained special forced to children. There were 136 different versions available from different manufacturers and none of them managed to improve on the original design. The KS-43 was the chosen weapon of every terrorist group, freedom fighter, and 3rd world military. Somehow Lisbeth knew how to use one and Sinclair didn’t quite know what to make of that.

Lisbeth had called him Sunday morning and asked if he had lunch plans. Nerissa hadn’t come, Lisbeth said something about her having last minute reading. Lisbeth was lying and wanted to talk to him alone, they both knew this and it wasn’t questioned. Not that she seemed to have anything to say over lunch, nor did they eat alone. He counted two plain clothes agent watching them as they ate, they weren’t trying very hard to be discreet. After lunch Lisbeth had taken him to do something fun, her words. When questioned further she simply said it was something she did to relax. By the time Lisbeth directed them to the shooting range Sinclair was almost relived, after having considered a number of different possibilities.

Lisbeth rented a KS-43 without any mods and bought a not inconsiderable amount of ammunition for it and Sinclair’s service weapon. She then yelled at the two plainclothes agents, who were pretending to browse the shelves. She told them to ‘give it up’ and ‘pick a gun any gun”, they did so quickly. By 1:45 they were lined up at the indoor range shooting paper targets. Lisbeth was clearly experienced shooting a KS, proper stance, hand positions and above all good general gun safety. She wasn’t an exceptional shot, or even very good, adequate would be the best word. When it comes right down to it, adequate is all that is necessary.

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There was something odd about watching Lisbeth cradle the gun with her small frame while wearing a look of intense concentration. She went oddly still in-between each burst not seeming to blink or even breath. The recoil of each shot seemed to ripple through her body, without causing much change in her aim. She got into a pattern of shooting and reloading without really moving or looking up. Sinclair wanted to know where she had learned to shoot but it didn’t seem appropriate. Lisbeth had something she wanted to say but didn’t quite seem up to it, he would just have to give her the time. Lisbeth did eventually stop shooting and looked around her.

“What time is it?”

“2:12?”

“Go into the store and watch the T.V.”

“What channel?”

“The news, but it doesn’t really matter.”

“Ok.”

“and Sinclair…”


“Yes, Lisbeth”

“I’m sorry but this isn’t the end of it. Go now it will start soon.”

Sinclair walked into the store and was followed by the two plainclothes. They apparently didn’t think it necessary to keep watching Lisbeth. Not that it would matter much, there was only one entrance to the range. She had also decided to resume shooting.

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The guy behind the counter was watching the game when they came out. He only gave a halfhearted objection before changing the channel, his team had been losing anyways. Lisbeth had impeccable timing as always, the host was just changing to a breaking news story.

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The screen changed to an arial view of Buenos Aires, not the big one, the one in the north west. It was still a good sized city thought. The camera kept trying to focus on a light that was floating just above the city. It seemed to be difficult since it was glowing so brightly in contrast to the dark grey clouds.

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The camera finally managed to resolve the light. It was a naked man, well something that masqueraded as a man. Every proportion was perfect, well muscled but not overly so. His skin was perfect with an even tan covering him from head to toe. He was perfectly hairless as far as the camera resolution would allow to be seen.

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What was most exceptional about the man was the source of light that was causing the camera man such trouble. The man had wings. Not any kind of bird wings or bat wings. No these were massive glowing constructs of light.

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Each wing was massive the size of a small car. The man, Sinclair was hesitant to call him an angel was utterly motionless. The wings were apparently not necessary for flight, at least not in any physical sense. One of the plainclothes asked the obvious question.

“Do you think it is a new god,”

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“or an old one?”

Sinclair didn’t answer, neither did the other plainclothes agent. The news host was saying something but it wasn’t important, just speculation. The figure gave a pulse and his light seemed to start to grow in intensity. The other plainclothes spoke.

“I have a sister there, she must be freaking out about now.”

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Sinclair felt bad for the agent. Something about the figure was ominous and terrifying. Sinclair prayed that the military had taken Lisbeth’s warning and was already responding. Somehow he knew they would arrive too late. The figure was just that now, it was glowing too brightly for the camera to make anything out.

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It slowly started to acned up into the clouds. Even fully enveloped it could still be seen, so bright it was drowning out the sun.

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The light descended with abrupt speed glowing brighter as it did. It impacted the ground.

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The camera feed was lost.

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The room was silent no one dared speak a word not even the host.

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The agent with the sister moved first. He rushed back into the shooting range were Lisbeth was. Sinclair would have been worried but he was still fixated on the screen in front of him.

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There was a clatter and then a crash. Sinclair pulled himself away from the T.V. to go look and see what happened. Nothing seemed to be quite real to him, like it was all a dream. When he entered the shooting range that feeling of being dreaming persisted, probably why he didn’t just intervene. Lisbeth was on the floor slumped against the wall, she didn’t appear hurt. The agent was standing over her screaming something incoherent, what he said didn’t appear to matter; only the emotion. Lisbeth’s cheeks were streaked with tears, she had apparently been crying for the entire broadcast.

“Please, I’m sorry. I wasn’t allowed to do more.”

It didn’t matter what she said, it didn’t placate the agent who had in all likelihood just lost his sister. The agent leaned down and grabbed Lisbeth by the neck and dragged her up pushing her against the wall. Lisbeth didn’t resist but she gave a couple croaking breaths, clearly in pain.

“Please stop. Your not allowed to hurt me. She doesn’t like it when I get hurt.”

The agent didn’t stop, not immediately. Lisbeth’s halfhearted and barely enunciated pleas didn’t do anything to calm him. The agent pulled back a fist to punch Lisbeth, Sinclair finally started to move to stop him. Sinclair wasn’t fast enough for the agent, almost as soon as the punch connected the agent started to fall to the floor. Without his support Lisbeth also fell to the floor and while clearly still relatively ok she didn’t bother trying to move. Sinclair decided to check on the fallen agent first. Not that there was much to check, the agent appeared totally unharmed except for the whole being dead thing.

“Could you please take me back to my dorm now?”

“What was that thing that attacked Buenos Ares?”

“It was an angel, didn’t the wings tip you off.”

“What happened to him.”

Sinclair indicated the now dead agent.

“Aneurism most likely, he didn’t have permission to hurt me.”

Lisbeth seemed to be recovering quickly, already getting some of her snark back. But the idea that certain people did have permission to hurt her worried Sinclair. Sinclair was also skeptical about the figure being an angel, but Lisbeth thought it was one.”

“What is going to happen with the angel?”

“Angels aren’t immortal and have only so much power. It might take a while but the military should be able to put that one down. Eventually”

“Are there more of them?”

“An entire host. No more questions Sinclair, now take me back to my dorm.”

Sinclair kind of figured he didn’t have much of a choice at this point. He left the remaining agent to deal with his deceased partner and drove Lisbeth back.

*Vote on Top Web Fiction*
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One comment

  1. So I might have a couple red shirts running around. So good news I broke 300 views yesterday, I’ve only managed that once before. I didn’t manage to write any chapters since monday, but I did write two Overwatch stories.

    Now I know I keep asking you all to vote on top webfiction (http://topwebfiction.com/vote.php?for=raising-angels), but I would also like it if you could also swing by Webfiction guide (http://webfictionguide.com/listings/raising-angels/) and give me a rating or even better a review. I’m not asking for a good rating or a good review, just honest opinions. If you are in a rating mood Overwatch could use some love too (http://webfictionguide.com/listings/overwatch/).

    P.S. I now have a donate button. I say this because I didn’t have it at the time of the last update. I also promise to never mention it again, unless I become prepared to offer bonus chapters, or something.

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