Apocalypse Soldier Read Free Page A

saved. He should feel a degree of satisfaction, shouldn’t he? An innocent was spared a terrible fate, but the operation had failed to calm the churning rage at the center of Talon’s being. Nothing seemed to appease his anger nowadays. Was he approaching burnout?
    Following the events in San Francisco, Talon had been hunting cultists non-stop, while internalizing every occult book Casca sent his way. He now knew more about Satanic rituals than he did about American politics or which team was favored to win the Super Bowl. Talon had sacrificed any semblance of a personal life for this new mission. He wondered if the growing sense of isolation was wearing him down. Perhaps he missed the unit, the brotherhood of his military service and the sense of camaraderie created when one spent every waking hour with the same group of people.
    By now most of his friends knew what had happened to Michelle. Not a day went by where he didn’t receive an email or a text from one of his military buddies. The heartfelt emotion of their messages was appreciated, but it didn’t extinguish the dark fire burning inside him. Talon sensed that he should try to reach out to his brothers but every time he picked up the phone, he found a good reason to talk himself out of it. What was there to chat about? “Oh, life is good, I’m moving on, killed a bunch of civilian demon worshippers today — how are things back at Fort Bragg?” A great divide separated the man he once was from the man he’d become.
    Talon’s cell chirped and he scanned the incoming text message. It was from none other than Simon Casca. The billionaire was in Los Angeles and wanted to meet him the next day for breakfast. Casca’s presence could mean only one thing — the services of the occult assassin would soon be needed once again.  

C HAPTER T HREE

    IT WAS NINE o’clock on a Monday morning and while most Angelinos were still fighting traffic on their way to work, Casca was welcoming the new day with a Mimosa at the intimate Chateau Marmont restaurant. Designed to evoke a French chateau, the legendary Sunset Blvd hotel was located a 5-minute walk from the Laugh Factory and about three miles from the high-end shops on Rodeo Drive. Sitting next to him at the bar were two women who wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Sports Illustrated swimsuit calendar. He’d run into Autumn, the tall, tanned blonde, while hitting the Hollywood clubs the night before. It hadn’t taken too much effort to persuade her to spend the night at his luxury suite. Being a good-looking billionaire who could crank up the charm did wonders for one’s social life. The mention of Talon had motivated her to invite her best friend Lynn, a fellow out-of-work actress/model, to join them at the hotel bar for a quick breakfast cocktail.
    Normally Casca reserved his drinking for later in the day but these two alluring party girls were on a different social schedule.  
    Simon Casca represented a study in contrasts, a fact that was not lost on him. He was part reckless playboy and part intellectual bookworm who spent his days deciphering ancient tomes on the occult. His wealth allowed him to indulge in a hedonistic lifestyle that he knew his late father would disapprove of. Women, alcohol and fast cars provided a brief distraction from the trauma of his past and the terrors he knew lurked in the shadows all around them. A temporary escape from the demons that haunted him. It didn’t matter how many beauties he bedded, drinks he knocked back or expensive sports cars he added to his growing fleet; the nightmares always returned.
    During those moments late at night when sleep wouldn’t come, his mind would turn to that fateful day 12 years ago when the darkness first entered his life. Casca would see the bald, heavily tattooed cultist who’d shattered the perfect, idyllic existence of his privileged youth. He would see the man drive the blade into his terrified sister’s chest while uttering