Chapter 7

As Edward sped toward his destination, he allowed himself to truly enjoy one of his favorite pastimes, the pure exhilaration of flight. The thrill of the wind in his hair and the excitement of seeing the contours of the Earth below flashing past as though they were a video set on fast forward. The part Edward liked best about flying this way was the way that it helped to calm his spirit. The upcoming battle, the stress over the presence of a traitor in his ranks, and his concerns about his developing relationship with Melissa, all of these things passed from his mind as he traveled in the pre-dawn beauty. This was hardly uncommon; there were times when even the grizzly reality of the War itself could sometimes be purged from Edward's consciousness during these high-speed flights. These were the times when Edward felt alive! This time, the feeling lasted all of about thirty minutes.

Too soon Edward began to see his destination, the great, thriving city of Washington D.C. To the human eye, the area appeared to be a bustling metropolis full of human activity, but Edward didn't have human eyes. He saw the world on both the mortal, and the supernatural levels. To him the city was a sprawling expanse of darkness. The darkness created by the Enemy's forces blanketed most of the downtown portion of D.C. and thick tendrils of darkness extended out from the central mass. From this altitude the arrangement gave Edward the impression of a mortal illness that the humans called cancer. A fitting analogy, he thought, because like a cancer these creatures gradually choked the life out of the humans they infected. Even when a mortal servant of the Enemy was allowed to keep his life rather than ordered to give it to his master, no one could call what they had a life. They spent every waking moment afraid that they would do something to displease their lord, and so invite destruction upon themselves. Only Edward, his kind, and their lord truly gave the humans life. They did their best to make sure that their followers were happy, successful, and needed nothing.

Edward grew frustrated as these thoughts intruded upon his conscious self, bringing all the weight of his worries crashing back down on his shoulders. Infuriated, he looked down upon the city. He was much closer now, and he could see hundreds of the spirits flitting from building to building, speeding around on their individual missions, not yet seeing Edward. Before that could happen, Edward found the area of the city that was his destination, landed in a nearby alley, and quickly assumed his "mortal" disguise. Then, he walked boldly from the ally, and out into the open. Though physically it was a bright, sunny day, spiritually it was akin to a dreary, cloudy afternoon. The enormous number of Enemy soldiers present lent a dingy feel to the ethereal atmosphere.

Edward shuddered as he took in the oppressive signs of stagnation and suffering. To his eyes, the Enemy's followers looked so pitiful. It astounded him that they we so blinded by physical things that they could not see how the Lord that they served was slowly destroying their souls and lives. There were, however, some who were not blind to spiritual matters. There were a relatively small percentage of the mortals who had the power to see, and often to affect, things in the spiritual world. But Edward could not dwell on these things now, he had work to do.

He quickly scanned the immediate area for Enemy patrols and, seeing none, quickly dashed across the busy street. Invisible to the drivers, and immaterial to their vehicles, he passed unnoticed through the traffic to the other side of the street. There he approached a large cast-iron fence that surrounded an enormous lawn and garden that were immaculately tended by an incredible number of gardeners. Standing proudly in the center of that field, and housing thousands of enemy warriors, both things it had for over a century, was Edward's target.

Edward stared through the fence at the physically beautiful site that had been transformed into a tumultuous, swirling, spiritual storm by his adversary's astral servants. Is there nothing beautiful, nothing sacred to them but their master's precious hide? Edward's heart sank; he knew the hard truth to that. He knew all to well what drove these creatures. It was certainly not the exquisitely appealing philosophy that they hissed into the ears of their human followers. No, their master, endeavoring to pervert the world and remake it unto his own image, drove these creatures on a quest of pure corruption

Edward felt a great rage building within him. He forced himself to depart from his current train of thought before his justified anger overpowered him and made him do something stupid. There would be a time for revenge soon enough.

When he tore his gaze away from the compound, Edward saw the two beings he had come to see. As Armand and Robert approached him, Edward made a small sign of greeting to the two scouting warriors.

"Hello, Edward," Armand said as they approached, "How are things back home?"

"Yes, please inform my comrade and I as to the most recent occurrences that have taken place in out domicile." Robert added.

"Robert, please be quiet! Lord, I'd almost rather have been sent here with Mikhail. At least he didn't make my head hurt every time he opened his mouth!"

"Armand!" Edward growled warningly. He felt a need to chastise the lean warrior even though he understood where he was coming from. He wasn't sure that he could take a month of listening to Robert talk like that day in and day out. Armand had been trapped with him for three months. Traitor or not, Edward was secretly surprised that Armand had not contemplated murder. Then he continued, "To answer your question, not much has been happening lately. We've, finally, got the troops just about ready for the assault, but that's about it."

Standing slightly behind Robert, Armand began motioning to his commander, indicating that he wished to speak with Edward alone.

"Robert, why don't you go back to your post and keep an eye on things. Armand can deliver your report."

"Aye, sir." Robert turned and walked back the way he and Armand had come, leaving the two soldiers alone.

"What's up?" Edward asked after Robert was out of earshot.

"Have you identified the spy?"

"No. If he's back there, he's being very cautious."

"Well, I still don't think it's Robert, but I could still be wrong."

"What have we come to when we can no longer trust the integrity of our own companions?"

A faint grin and a slightly distant look touched Armand's otherwise solemn features, "Wan would say something like 'It would appear that history has come full circle.'"

"Aye, that he would." Edward agreed, returning Armand's faint smile, "Wan's a wise one, there's no doubt about that, and his loyalty, at least, is beyond question."

"So, what are we going to do now?" asked Armand.

"Well, what are our chances of success if we attack now?"

"Not good, this President is very important to them; they've taken great pains to safeguard him. The Enemy has sent three of his strongest warriors to act as his personal bodyguards and they have all brought their entourages with them. Out of the almost four thousand troops stationed in that building, there is an army of almost two thousand spirits whose sole purpose is to guard him with their lives."

"I see." Edward raised his hand to his chin as he mused over this disturbing news, "So you think... what?"

"I think we should continue to wait and attack at a time when the President is gone. If he goes on a trip someplace, his guards would go with him, and leave the place significantly reduced in strength."

"I agree." Edward said slowly, "I can tell just by what I've seen here today that we'd have no hope of victory if we attacked now. We'll wait and see if an opportune time comes around soon."

"Very well sir." Armand replied, snapping to attention.

Edward grinned before continuing, "I want you to stay here with Robert, keep one eye on him and one on our target. If a good attack opportunity arises, send for us. Meanwhile, I'm going to return and try to ferret out that accursed spy."

"Aye sir." Armand said, still attempting to hold his mock-attention stance in spite of a slight grin that was now tugging at the corners of his mouth. Edward sensed the humor in the warrior and decided to play into the joke.

"And just what are you grinning at, soldier!" He shouted in mock-anger, but there was enough of a laugh in his voice to let Armand know that he was being joked with. The lanky Arab responded in kind.

"Your still-necked leadership methods, sir!"

This time Edward was unable to hold back his laughter. It began pealing from him in tremendous, soul-cleansing bursts.

"Get out of here soldier."

"Yes sir." Armand said, laughter filling his voice also. As the lean warrior turned and walked back to his hideaway, where Robert awaited his return, Edward composed himself and returned to the alley he had originally landed in, shed his disguise, and launched himself straight up out of the city. As soon as he had cleared the clouds, Edward angled back towards his home, his lord, and his waiting army.

He couldn't blame Armand for joking around back there, even if it technically had been improper. After having experienced the feel of that city, with its immense weight of oppressive spirits, he could understand that the teasing and laughter had simply been a coping reflex, and, since he understood it, he could excuse it.

As Edward was discussing traitors with Armand, another being was likewise discussing the same traitor. Edward's master was in his throne room staring out one of its many windows. Standing near to the Lord was his doorkeeper, Klaudius.