The Angel Wore Fangs(25)
“And our role in this?” Zeb asked.
“We are already infiltrating the ISIS ranks. Haroun was actively engaged in those endeavors before his passing. Ganbold will continue with those efforts. We need to harvest some of the worst of the ISIS members, but not so many that our presence will be noticed, or that the organization will be weakened. But in addition, we will grab some of those recruits and new members before they have a chance to repent.”
“Why would they repent?” Tess asked. “Most of those foolish young ones engage in the cults willingly. Why would they change their minds and repent?”
“Vangels!” Jasper, Zeb, Hector, and Yakov said as one.
“They are like bloody shadows, those vangels are.” Jasper slammed his cowboy hat down on the table in anger. “Wherever we go, they show up behind us, saving sinners before we have a chance to turn them and killing off our best demon vampires. Our numbers would be doubled if not for them.”
“And the John Wayne attire?” Zeb prodded him.
“Ah, yes. One of the cults I wish to target is working out of a ranch in Montana. That is where we will start.” He looked pointedly at Zeb and Tess.
With perfect timing, Beltane passed out stapled sheets of paper to each of the council members.
“On these handouts you will see a list of fifty of the most important ISIS recruiting headquarters across the world. Starting on July 15, for three days only, we will target those locations. In and out. Shock and awe, as the Navy SEALs say. Right, Zeb?”
“Right.”
“We don’t all have to wear cowboy gear, do we?” Heinrich asked.
“No, Heinrich,” Jasper said, as if speaking to a child. “The operation in Montana is the only one located on a ranch, as far as I know.” But then, he added, “there is one using a flamenco dance club in Spain as a front. Do you dance?”
Heinrich’s jaw dropped open.
Jasper guessed the answer was no.
“We can discuss the details in depth this afternoon, but in the meantime . . .” He motioned to Beltane, who had the naked boys and girls rush to serve everyone a glass of champagne. When they all had glasses in hand, Jasper raised his and said, “A toast to our new council members.”
“Hear, hear!” everyone said, and took a sip.
“And to sin!”
That got even more cheers.
On days like this, Jasper was glad to be on the other side.
Chapter 7
Home, home on the range . . .
Andrea was exhausted but nervously excited when they drove to the ranch the next morning. Hopefully, they would find Celie with little effort and be able to get her out of this beautiful, but scarily remote area. The farther they’d gotten from the city, other than occasional deer or antelopes seen from a distance, and of course cattle, lots of cattle, there were few homes or signs of human habitation. Montana was one of the biggest states but also one of the most sparsely populated.
Luckily, Cnut had insisted on renting some fancy SUV at the Bozeman airport and not the cheaper economy-size sedan. Even in the 4WD vehicle, the three-hour drive north was bumpy at times over the occasional dirt roads and hazardous inclines. No supermarkets. No gas stations. No small towns. Just long stretches of unpaved roads. But beautiful. Oh-my-God-beautiful! No wonder it was called Big Sky Country. With the snow-capped Rocky Mountains as a backdrop, the land stretched out forever, with blue skies visible for many miles in every direction. They even saw buttes, like in old cowboy movies, the flat-topped, steep-sided hills that sprang up seemingly out of nowhere, as if carved from rocks and soil eons ago by a giant with a huge chain saw, but more likely the result of glaciers and erosion. It was like stepping into an Albert Bierstadt landscape painting.
There was hardly any traffic, and thank God for that, because occasionally some of the free-range cattle wandered onto the road, and Cnut had to slow down until they passed.
Cnut was wearing denim jeans and an open denim shirt over a white T-shirt. Scuffed, flat-heeled boots on his feet. Can anyone say, “Mothers, Don’t Let Your Daughters Grow Up to Love Cowboys”? Except for the absence of a cowboy hat, which he’d refused to buy at the airport, despite her prodding, he fit the ranch scene perfectly. He probably didn’t want to mess up his fancy hairdo.
She’d dressed appropriately, too, in a plaid shirt over a T-shirt tucked into her favorite well-worn, True Religion skinny jeans and a pair of gorgeous Old Gringo “Razz” boots in distressed leather with a blue embroidery design she’d bought half price for $215 at Nordstrom’s yesterday.
She’d justified the expense by telling herself, They’re not really an extravagance. I can wear them all winter. Yep, overpriced snow boots.