Hell West and Crooked - prt 4
The Impala rolled to a stop in front of McRory’s. Dean and Sam got out and stretched. Cas got out and stood by the car, head slightly tilted as if he was listening.
“Cas, you’ve really got to stop looking like a bird,” Dean sighed.
“I don’t understand, Dean, I look nothing like a bird. My wings are not…” Cas answered solemnly but was cut off by Sam.
“He means the constant head tilting like you’re listening…” Sam tried explaining but Cas interrupted.
“I am listening,” he stated. Dean patted Sam on the back and said, “Quit while you’re ahead, Einstein, I need a drink.”
Sam shrugged and followed Dean into the bar. Castiel watched them, then, satisfied there was no danger imminent, he followed them.
Bobby sat at the bar with Eliot. The rest of Ford’s team were at his apartment. Bobby had warded it against demons and had placed a salt lines across the front door and along the windows.
He and Eliot were talking weapons. Of the five grifters, Eliot was taking the sudden reality of the supernatural, much better than his teammates.
“So, guess there was more going on than Zilgram being a douche-bag,” Dean glibbed taking a seat at a table.
“Bit more, maybe, but I don’t think Travis was in the loop,” Eliot said, “I’m Eliot, by the way, although most people call me Spencer.”
“Right, this is my brother Sam and Cas,” Dean said waving a hand in the general direction of Sam and Cas. Sam shook hands with Eliot and took a seat. Cas followed suit, his handshake awkward and sat opposite Dean.
“And you’re all hunters?” Eliot asked, trying to picture the trench-coat, suit wearing ‘Cas’ as a hunter. He looked more like a tax accountant, or mid-level sales executive.
“Sam, Dean and Bobby are. I’m a…” Cas said but all three hunters spoke at once.
“Researcher,” Sam said.
“Specialist,” Bobby said.
“Friend,” Dean said.
“…but all three words are correct. I suppose,” Castiel said.
“Okay. Not a demon, at least” Eliot said looking from one to the other. There was a loud groan from the back room, “What do we do about Conrad and his buddy.”
“Damnit!” Dean cursed in frustration. He’d been looking forward to a drink. “You couldn’t go back there and beat him to a pulp? I mean he is the one responcible for that cock-a-mehmie experiment Zilgram and Dustmen were running.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Just thought you might have need of him before I start,” Eliot replied, only half-joking.
“Try and find out what else he’s got going on, or at least what information he’s sitting on that would be useful to Meg,” Bobby said coming over to the table and sitting down, “Cas, you go with Eliot. If his methods don’t work maybe you can try make them talk.”
“Are they demons?” Cas asked, studying Eliot.
“No, scumbag humans” Bobby said, “So no zapping them, okay?”
“Or other special treatment,” Dean hinted, hoping Cas was with the program. Apparently he was because he looked almost human as he replied.
“I do know how to get information from people Dean.” The odd couple moved into the backroom, leaving the hunters unwinding at the table.
“You sure that’s wise?” Sam asked Bobby and Dean.
“Yeah, that Spencer kid’s a lot like Dean, tightly wound. Cas being there will calm him down,” Bobby said.
Sam looked at him, totally unconvinced and Dean huffed at the affront to his character. Then they got talking shop and trying to work out what Meg might be up to.
***
Castiel looked around McRory’s ‘sanctuary’ with indifference. Conrad and friend were now awake and followed the duo with their eyes nervously. Or at least the friend did, Conrad was more controlled but clearly uncomfortable. Eliot picked up an iron mask, it had what looked like donkey ears attached to it and what may or may not have been an iron jawbreaker. He put it down and picked up double pronged fork on a leather collar. “What are these?” he asked Castiel.
Cas looked over tilted his head in that odd way of his and tonelessly replied, “Brank and Heretic Fork.” Then he turned to face the two prisoners.
“How do they work?” Eliot asked, he had a pretty good idea already, and if right, he thought he might test one, or both, of them on Conrad. Eliot held a special hatred toward authority in any form who used and abused the very men and women employed to defend it.
Castiel seemed to be considering the question, either that or he hadn’t heard. Eliot was about to repeat the question when he answered.
“The mask, the Brank, was used to punish sinners by exposing them to ridicule and mortification as well as physical punishment by occluding their noses or mouth and covering their eyes to render them blind. I believe the one you hold was designed with an iron ball that forced the wearer’s mouth open but gagged them from screaming or moaning. I’m not sure why the ears are so long, perhaps they represent the horns of the devil.” Castiel said.
“And this fork thing?” Eliot asked picking up the Heretic Fork.
“The collar was fastened around the neck with the fork prongs placed under the chin and above the chest. The head needed to be held erect, to avoid the forks penetrating deeply. I believe the discomfort over a prolonged time meant that the prongs penetrated the flesh but did no damage to vital organs. Most uncomfortable.” Castiel replied tonelessly.
“Good,” Eliot said he reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a penny. “The penny’s the Fork, empty hand the Mask. Pick one.” He held his fists in front of Conrad.
“You can’t do this, keep us here against our will. We haven’t done anything,” Conrad said.
“You sanctioned the experiment Zilgram ran. You used veterans, men who served this country in war, defended you and every other American, as guinea pigs. You’ve done plenty” Eliot almost growled as he spoke.
“I’m just a soldier.” The other man said, voice quivering with fear and disorientation.
“I know. You are a good soldier, a good man. There is no need to question this man, Eliot. His soul has not been tainted by the demon who possessed him” Castiel stated. All three men looked at him as though he was mad.
“So, you’re saying, just let him go? He, and this piece of dirt, tried to kill us” Eliot fumed.
“The demons possessing them tried to kill you. Conrad was consort to Meg. He may tell us something about her plans. This soldier is of no import to her or her followers, simply a body to use and discard. He has therefore little information to give us that we don’t already know” Castiel calmly reasoned.
Eliot looked at Castiel blankly for about five minutes. Then he nodded and turned his attention back to Conrad.
“You haven’t picked. Do it, or I will” He said and once again held out his fists. Conrad stared defiantly back at him.
Eliot bought his hands down and grabbing the Brank placed it over his head, jamming the iron ball into his mouth to gag any sound Conrad tried to make. He screwed it as tightly shut as it would go, tightened the bindings on Conrad’s wrists and ankles. He looked around the room and spying the re-loading gear rummaged through it till he found some cloth bits used for cleaning gun barrels. These he shoved in Conrad’s ears.
He freed the soldier and hauled him unceremoniously out of the room. Castiel followed. At the door, Eliot paused, turned out the lights and slammed the door. Leaving Conrad alone in the darkened room, his senses dulled and mouth gagged. The Brank’s design made breathing through his nose difficult and forced Conrad to remain calm. He scoffed silently to himself. If Eliot thought he would crack because of an iron mask, he was sadly mistaken. Conrad would simply out ‘wait’ him.
Besides, Eliot must be delusional if he believed in demons and Meg being some kind of evil mastermind. Demons didn’t exist and Meg was a lot of things, but a ‘mastermind’ of evil, ludicrous, she couldn’t mastermind breakfast, let alone anything else. Conrad sat in secluded darkness, believing himself better than Eliot, his conmen friends and the trench-coated man that accompanied Eliot.
***
The three hunters didn’t argue with Cas when he walked out of McRory’s sanctuary with the soldier and announced that he was returning the man to barracks. Dean only had time to mention Cas scout the location for Meg and then the angel disappeared. A minute afterwards, Eliot came into the bar proper, he looked around for ´Castiel and the soldier. “Where’s your friend?” He asked.
“Took the soldier back to barracks,” Dean replied.
“That was quick,” Eliot said.
“Yeah, Cas can be pretty quick on his feet when he wants to,” Dean quipped. Sam kicked him under the table, “What?” Dean asked.
“Idjit,” Bobby mumbled. He indicated for Eliot to pull up a seat, “How’re you holding up kid?”
“Good” Eliot replied, his tone non-committal. There was a rustling sound behind him, he turned to see what it was. Sam prevented him for finding out with a sudden question.
“Where’d you train?” Sam asked, drawing Eliot’s attention away from Cas’ sudden reappearance.
“Around. You do this for a living? This hunting of the supernatural?” Eliot re-directed none too subtly. From his peripheral vision he saw Bobby jerk his head towards the back room and Dean nod imperceptivity in reply. Both men were looking towards where the rustling noise had come from. Obviously Sam was distracting his attention from who, or given the circumstances, what, had just arrived.
“Yes. Demons killed our mother, our Dad turned his grief into vengeance and Dean and I grew up on the road” Sam said. Dean excused himself, saying he needed to use the bathroom. Sam followed as he and Cas retreated to the back room to talk about whatever Cas had found out during his reconnaissance trip to Mossman Research and military base.
“Your dad in the army?” Eliot asked, a curious thought crossing his mind.
“Marines,” Sam said with a slight smile.
“Jarhead, guess it figures” Eliot said, a genuine smile given.
“How’d you mean?” Sam asked.
“Nothing, just that you and your brother, Bobby here, you’ve all got a touch of - well, militia, about you. True sense of the word, not like it’s branded about now, like some badge of honor for Right-wing Nazi wannabes. It’s a good thing,” Eliot stated.
Bobby poured him another shot, topped himself up and waved the bottle towards Sam, who declined.
“Nice of you to say, kid. We’ve a few crack-pots in the ranks, but anybody who calls themselves a Hunter, got no time for politics and especially not fundamentalists, whatever brand of BS they’re selling. Cheers,” he said downing the shot in a single swig. Eliot followed suit. They were lining themselves up for another shot, when Dean, Cas and Conrad came into the room.
“Sam, Bobby, time to grab your stuff, we’ve go to move,” Dean said.
He would have said more but the room began to shake, there was a sudden explosion as glass broke and the salt-lines were blown away. Black smoke poured through the windows and they found themselves surrounded by demons.
The four men attacked those demons nearest them while Castiel shoved Conrad behind the bar for protection and joined in the fight.
Dean, Sam and Bobby used their fists and knives to hold the horde back. Eliot weighed in with fists and the broken whiskey bottle. From the corner of his eye he saw flashes of white light over where the man they called Castiel was fighting. One of the demons hurled him over the bar and he landed heavily next to Conrad.
The ex-CIA man was still wearing the Brank and his hands were tied. He was busily cutting the ropes with a broken piece of glass. Eliot gave him a sharp kick that shoved him away from his make-shift knife, then rejoined the fight.
“Now would probably be a good time for some of that fancy Latin,” he grunted and hit back at the demon who’d just sucker-punched him.
“You think?!” Dean grunted back pulling himself up from the floor and underpinning a demon at the same time.
“Bobby?!” Dean cried. “Busy!” the old hunter huffed, king hitting a demon. Sam managed to start a shortened version of the exorcism but was cut off halfway. Dean and Bobby tried to continue but found themselves pinned down by demons.
Eliot was again thrown over the bar, this time Conrad had freed himself and was reaching up to undo the Brank. Eliot swung at him, but he’d landed even more heavily this time and he misjudged.
Conrad had just enough time to undo the mask before Eliot regained enough clarity to punch him hard across the face. Conrad staggered back and the iron Brank fell askew. Conrad ripped it off, unplugged his ears then made a beeline for Eliot.
Conrad tackled Eliot and pinning him to the floor rained down punches upon his face. Eliot took a good half-dozen before he managed to free his right arm and catch Conrad’s next punch. The two men wrestled and fought in front of the bar. From the corner of his eyes Eliot kept seeing white flashes of light.
Conrad hauled him up and turned him around. Intent on punching Eliot, which he did, but more because Eliot’s attention was diverted towards Castiel placing his palms upon the heads of two demons and a strange white light flashed from his hands and seemed to seep from his eyes.
It happened so quickly that Eliot thought he must have imagined it. The there was only fighting Conrad and nothing else.
Meg observed the fighting with mild annoyance that quickly turned to fury. “Damn angels, why did they always show up and disrupt her fun.”
Conrad’s office at the military base had been a bust. She’d known Conrad had gone to see Nate Ford. Or at least demon Conrad had gone to see him, demons were like that, they fed off the strongest emotions or thoughts of their meat-suits. Conrad seemed angry and resentful of this Ford and his team. Personally, Meg thought he was being petty, so what? Everybody got conned in their lives once and more often, more than once.
Still, it did make finding him a lot easier, and when she’d learnt that Dean and Sam plus their mentor Bobby Singer where there with Ford - well, a girl has to have a little fun. She’d sent the ‘elite’ of the possessed soldiers to deal with the hunters, thinking she’d be able to retrieve Conrad easily enough and then get him to tell her what she needed to know.
That was the plan, now, she had an angel to contend with, and not just any angel but Castiel. The self-appointed guardian of Dean and Sam Winchester. Time to see what this angel was made of.
Conrad was pulled back off Eliot by an unknown force. He looked around to see what had caused it and found himself looking at Meg.
“What are you doing here?” he asked confused. Meg looked him over with contempt and then with a wave of her manicured hand threw him through one of the broken windows onto the footpath outside.
“Cas! Meg!” Dean shouted but Meg was quick and threw a knife towards Castiel. Eliot dived into its path and was cut with a long silver-blade. He fell to the floor. Meg turned to fight Dean. Knocking him down without breaking a nail. She whistled loudly and then disappeared. Stopping briefly to pick Conrad up from the pavement and disappear.
The noise of the fight had bought Nate and the others down from their apartment. They came out of the building just as more black smoke poured into McRory’s. They entered into the fray, but quickly found themselves surrounded.
They also found out that demons didn’t like silver. Those that came in contact with the silver charm bracelets were burnt on the hands. Hardison, Nate, Sophie and Parker did what they could but were quickly thrown out of the way. They could only watch as the demons seemed to be getting the upper hand. Despite fighting skills of their new hunter friends and Eliot.
The fighting must have done something to the electricals because there seemed to be constant flashes of light from the bar area behind where Eliot was fighting a demon. Suddenly, Eliot, was thrown clear across the room, landing heavily in front of Nate and Sophie.
The grifters scrambled to where Eliot had landed. He was bleeding from his ears and nose and unconscious. Stabbing a demon with Ruby’s knife, Dean saw Eliot land heavily and the scramble and shock play out on his friends faces. He passed a second’s glance around the bar. Those demons still able-bodied were shaking off their tempory injuries and closing ranks. He could hear Bobby and Sam breathing heavily and the thud of meat-suit hit the floor.
“Fuck this,” he muttered. With a half-glance warning to Bobby and Sam, Dean marched over to where the shell-shocked grifters were huddled.
“Cas! Mojo time,” he shouted over his shoulder. To the group in front of him, Dean warned, “You need to close your eyes if you don’t want them burn out.”
prt 5