There was a pause on the other line, and I could hear something in the distance that sounded like shuffling feet. “Knight?” Dulcie’s voice sounded on the other line.
“Dulcie?” I said as I took a deep breath and exhaled it into the phone, closing my eyes and thanking my lucky stars that she was still alive.
“Don’t listen to what they’re saying, Knight. You know it’s a setup!”
“Whatever you do, just stay alive,” I answered with steely resolve. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Don’t agree to anything!” she yelled, her voice growing distant as someone ostensibly pulled her away from the phone. I could hear a man berating her while she yelled back at him. I’d have to act quickly; Dulcie was always impatient, so it would probably take a miracle for her to stay alive. She wasn’t exactly a shrinking violet.
“If anything doesn’t go as planned, we slit her throat. Got it?” the voice warned as fire burned inside me and I did my best to squelch it. For the time being…
“I got it,” I answered, and the line suddenly went dead. The only thing going through my head was that Stone Angel’s favorite appellation for me was and always had been “asshole.”
“You ready?” I asked Sam pointedly as we stood outside room 29A of Springville Hospital, both of us about to pay a visit to Stone Angel. Tonight was the scheduled handoff where I was supposed to arrive at the docks at 10:00 P.M. with the shipment of Alscahhosh and the Starboards we’d taken into our possession in return for Dulcie. And, no, I wasn’t stupid enough to believe they’d really allow Dulcie and me to just walk away after everything was said and done. We’d be the equivalent of sitting ducks, or really, dead ducks.
“Yes,” Sam answered, nodding sharply. She was upset. It was obvious by how little she was saying—that was Sam’s way. She grew quiet and pensive whenever she was worried. And to say she was worried about the abduction of her best friend was an understatement.
As far as our visit to Stone, it wasn’t an easy feat to make it this far. We’d been stopped by the hospital staff about five times—so often that I just decided to keep my wallet with my ANC badge handy in case we were stopped again. “You remember everything we talked about?” I asked, eyeing her to make sure she was ready for this. If Stone Angel was somehow alert, the way in which we approached him would make all the difference between us getting somewhere or nowhere.
Sam nodded curtly again, which I took as our cue to enter. I reached for the door just as a nurse approached and eyed us quizzically. I held up my badge and frowned at her. “This is ANC business, and I absolutely do not want any interruptions. Do you understand?”
The woman simply nodded before scurrying away as I sighed in frustration. Then, turning to Sam, I arched a brow and opened the door, escorting us both into the undersized hospital room where the excuse for a man lay in the middle of his bed, the white sheet tucked neatly beneath the mattress on either side of him.
Physically, Stone Angel was the exact embodiment of his Yeti heritage. He had a huge, hulking frame—he might have even stood seven feet tall. And he was the hairiest son of a bitch I’d ever encountered. I glanced down at him and noticed his hair was cut short and his face lacked a beard, mustache, or even shadow, which meant the hospital staff was doing a hell of a good job of keeping on top of the hair. Also like his Yeti forefathers, Stone was one ugly bastard. His eyes were small and set too far apart, and his nose was, in one word, bulbous. He was missing at least four teeth, and I recalled his breath reminding me of the smell in downtown Splendor after we’d had too much rain and the sewer system failed.
I glanced over at Sam and nodded, indicating that she should move forward with our plan. If there was a chance that Stone was somehow cognizant during his coma, I didn’t want to risk talking in front of him because I knew he’d recognize my voice. Instead, I reviewed everything with Sam beforehand so that I wouldn’t need to make so much as a peep.
I watched Sam drop her backpack on the visitor’s chair in the corner of the room. Then she fished through it until she retrieved her green three-ring binder, which she plopped on the other visitor’s chair beside her. She sorted through the vials, which were all strapped down to the binder, looking for Ansagram, a truth-telling potion that we used very often at the ANC. Although we forced the liquid potion down the gullets of any felon we apprehended if we thought said felon wasn’t telling the truth about something, in this case, it was easier to give Stone his dose via his IV drip.
I watched Sam as she found the bottle of Ansagram and reached inside her backpack again, before her hand resurfaced with a syringe. She rolled the vial of Ansagram in her hands a few times, just to make sure the fluid was mixed, and then uncapped the vial. She removed the clear cap from the syringe, stabbed the needle end into the vial of Ansagram, then pulled the plunger back until the syringe was full. After she replaced the cap on the needle end of the syringe, she handed it to me.
I eyed the purple liquid, which looked a lot like grape juice, as I approached Stone’s bedside. Sam had already been careful to measure out a single dose, which she’d sucked up into the syringe, so I was good to add the contents of the entire syringe to the drip line. Placing the syringe on Stone’s side table for the time being, I reached for the IV line and clamped the running flow of liquids, hoping the operation wouldn’t be too messy. I removed the cap from the syringe, inserted the needle into the injection port of the IV bag, and pushed down on the plunger, watching as the purple liquid diffused with the clear liquids already present in the bag. I mixed the solutions by gently turning the bag from end to end until the whole thing was a light blue in color. Then I disposed of the needle and the syringe, and unclamped the IV line.
Sam said it would take a good five minutes for the Ansagram to fully penetrate Stone’s enormous body, so we both waited in silence as Sam periodically checked the time. Once the five minutes were up, Sam glanced up at me and simply nodded. She approached Stone’s body and held her hands up above him, closing her eyes as she began her silent chant, which would force his mind into submission, making him unable to even think a thought that wasn’t true. Even though the Ansagram might have seemed like overkill, it really wasn’t, because if Stone knew we were tapping into his brain waves, he could very easily throw us off by thinking lies. It was basically the same as telling lies, only easier because all it required was thinking rather than verbalizing.
Sam stepped back once her spell was complete and looked up at me, smiling as she gave me the go-ahead. I approached Stone’s bed and eyed him as anger started growing inside me. If this son of a bitch had anything to do with Dulcie’s disappearance, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep my fury in check. That was a scary thought, because I had to control my rage; otherwise it would cloud my judgment, and I’d undoubtedly botch the whole thing. No, I had to maintain my sanity and look at this case as if it were just another kidnapping, something in no way personal to me. And that was a hard feat, to say the least.
I rolled up my sleeves, and even though the idea of touching Stone repulsed me, there was no way around it. I gripped both of his arms and leaned over him, closing my eyes as Sam stepped up to the hospital cot beside me. Now was the time to see how good her memory was because she’d be asking all the questions. Stone would undoubtedly recognize my voice, which would automatically put him on the alert. And even though the Ansagram was now fully active in his body, I wanted to try to keep him as calm as possible. Knowing that Knightley Vander, the man responsible for putting him into a coma, was now standing by his bedside wouldn’t bode well for our needs.
“Stone Angel, are you responsible for orchestrating the kidnapping of Dulcie O’Neil?” Sam asked, her voice strong and unwavering.
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and listened for the response in Stone’s thoughts. At first, I got nothing but static, which was pretty normal whenever someone wasn’t fully cognizant, as in a coma. But after I tightened my grasp around his wrists and really concentrated on breaking throu
gh the static, I could hear his thoughts. Granted, they weren’t as clear as a healthy person’s would have been, but they were clear enough.
Yes. The thought came through almost immediately. I had to push down the immediate anger that welled up inside me and concentrate only on the facts so I could figure out how to get Dulcie out of her predicament without getting both of us killed.
I opened my eyes and looked at Sam, nodding as I gave her the go-ahead to touch me so that she too could read Stone’s thoughts through my mind and ask her questions accordingly. Because Sam had had a hard time recovering from our last bout of “screen sharing,” I only wanted to involve her if Stone was able to mentally process, which he obviously was. Sam swallowed hard, and I could see the fear in her eyes. She set her lips firmly as she gripped my lower arm.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling. “Are you also responsible for orchestrating the sniper attacks, or is your brother, Ibahn, behind them?” she asked out loud.
There was static in my head for a few seconds again, almost as if someone were trying to tune a television to a scrambled station. Then I felt the bubbling up of smug satisfaction as the emotion translated from Stone’s head into mine and then into Sam’s.
Of course I’m responsible for it! was his thought. You think my idiot brother would know how to pull off something like this?
Even though the Ansagram would draw only truthful thoughts, usually the subject would try to fight the inevitable. He might delay in responding, or try to cover his mouth, or clamp his lips together; the list went on. That Stone was so forthcoming with his thoughts surprised me. But then I remembered his ego, which was just about the size of his frame, and his straightforwardness started to make more sense. He was clearly proud of his accomplishments, and because his clouded brain didn’t identify Sam’s voice as a threatening one, he seemed pleased to answer all her questions.
My plan was working to a tee.
“Where is Dulcie being held?” Sam continued.
There was a bit of static again, so I shut my eyes tightly and focused on weaving through the chaos of Stone’s brain.
At Dolores’s house, Stone responded.
“Where is that?” Sam asked immediately.
Warehouse District. Fifth and Bentley. It ain’t really a house, but that’s what we all call it.
“Where is it on Fifth and Bentley?” Sam prodded.
It’s the only building still standing on the corner.
“How many of your guys are watching her?”
I got two with her, he answered.
“Who are the two?” Sam asked.
My brother, Angus, and Dolores, so I guess that makes three.
“Why did you abduct Dulcie? Why are you using her as leverage?” Sam continued.
The Alscahhosh, came his immediate response.
“Why is the Alscahhosh so important to you?” Sam asked.
It’s the last shipment in existence from the Netherworld.
“So what?” Sam prodded.
So it’s the only potion that’ll break me out of this coma, he responded snidely. I arched a brow in surprise, not having realized Alscahhosh was an antidote to a coma. Guess it was true what they say about learning something new every day.
“If all you wanted was the Alscahhosh,” Sam continued, “why bother yourself with the sniper stuff?”
Even though she was veering a bit off the subject, I understood her interest in doing so. Anything that Stone said under the influence of the Ansagram was testimony that would hold up in court. Even though we were forcing his thoughts, we could use this information later if we had to. Sam would just have to re-create the conversation with a spell.
Because just as Vander took mine, so I shall take his. He chuckled then. An eye for an eye an’ a tooth for a tooth…
Sam frowned and then glanced at me as if she didn’t know what to make of his response. I just shook my head and then waved my hand at her in a gesture that we needed to get this show on the road. “How many guys are under your control in total?” Sam asked. “And how are you issuing commands to them?”
Thirteen, Stone answered, and then there was static for a second or so. I got a sensitive in my employ. I send her my orders, and she tells the gang.
A sensitive was basically someone with psychic powers who could converse telepathically.
“So where are the other men under your control? And where is this sensitive?” Sam continued, now following her own line of reasoning, which was fine by me. I just hoped we’d get the answers we needed quickly, because I had to order backup to the Warehouse District so that I could get Dulcie the hell out of Dodge. The only problem was I couldn’t release my control over Stone because as soon as we packed up and shipped out, he’d realize we’d tapped into his thoughts. And that meant the first thing he’d do would be to get in touch with his men through the sensitive, no doubt issuing a new command that would throw us off their scent.
Eleven snipers snipin’, Stone responded, which was followed by the unmistakable sound that he was chuckling inside, apparently pleased with himself.
“What does that mean?” Sam demanded.
It means my other guys are preparin’ ta send that asshole Vander back to Hades where he can rot in hell!
“You’ve got eleven snipers that are going to show up at the docks tonight when Knight arrives?” Sam asked, obviously double-checking his meaning.
I got eleven sharpshooters who’re gonna be ready to fire as many bullets into that son of a bitch as they can as soon as he shows his sorry ass. That little fairy’ll be next…as soon as I let my guys have their fun with her. Gotta reward ’em, ya know? he said with another hearty chuckle. I felt my own anger bubbling up and immediately suppressed it, not wanting Stone to get any inkling that I was eavesdropping. As it was, I assumed the Ansagram was starting to fade, which meant we needed to get on with part two of the plan quickly.
And part two revolved around the fact that going after Dulcie and now the sharpshooters at the docks at ten this evening wouldn’t work. No, we needed to stage an attack on both parties at exactly the same time to maintain the element of surprise. As such, we needed to ascertain where the rest of Stone’s guys were going to be.
I released my hold of Stone, but covered Sam’s hand with my own to let her know I needed to talk to her alone. I rotated my body until I was facing her and closed my eyes, trying to muddle through the clouds in her mind so that I could send her my thoughts. Sam was very much in touch with her own magical side, so contacting her through thoughts was relatively easy.
Sam, we need to find out where the rest of his men are holed up. Once we know that, I need you to return to the ANC and put Henderson, Bridges, Sanderson, Gomez, Havanna, and anyone else you trust on getting Dulcie the hell out of there. Then I want you to get another fifteen regulators ready to go after the snipers as soon as we find out where they are.
What are you going to do? Sam asked in thought.
I’ll stay here with him until you send Elsie over to relieve me. Then I’m going after Dulcie.
Sam nodded as I turned back to Stone and gripped his arms again in order to make a connection with him telepathically. Sam kept her hold on my forearm, and taking another deep breath, she asked, “Where are the snipers, Stone?”
The River Bottom, came the immediate response.
“The River Bottom at the end of Edgeware Road?” Sam asked. “In Estuary?”
That’s the only River Bottom I know of, Stone replied saucily.
I opened my eyes and glanced over at Sam, nodding to her in order to let her know we had enough information so that she could get on with the next part of our plan. She released her hold of my arm and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. I watched her, trying to decide if she looked like she was going to pass out or not. Once she smiled at me, though, I realized she was okay.
She turned back to her green binder, freed the vial of Pinchot, and returned to Stone’s bedside. She unclamped
the top of the vial and held the orange powder directly beneath his nose. The Pinchot worked like nitrous oxide with regard to its euphoric effects. In our case, it would prevent Stone from realizing his thoughts had been overheard, which would, likewise, cause him to report it to his sensitive and change his plans. As it was, I could only hope his sensitive didn’t try to reach out to him; but if that happened, I’d find out because I didn’t plan on leaving his bedside yet. Well, not until Elsie relieved me, anyway.
Sam started for the door and then turned around to face me. She looked inside her backpack and pulled out a notebook and a pen. She jotted something down on the pad and handed it to me. It read:
I’ll go as quickly as I can, and when I see Elsie, I’ll give her directions to have Stone inhale the Pinchot every ten seconds or so to make sure he doesn’t recover cognizance anytime soon.
I just nodded and mouthed, “Good luck” as she smiled, opening the door and closing it behind her again.
After Elsie relieved me from babysitting Stone, it took me maybe twelve minutes to reach the Warehouse District of Splendor. Sam informed me that a dozen ANC regulators had responded to the call and already left Headquarters, maybe ten minutes earlier. Sam had given them express instructions to wait until I arrived on the scene before making any decisions. I was running about twenty minutes behind them.
My cell phone rang through the Bluetooth in the Denali, so I clicked the “answer phone” icon on my steering wheel, recognizing Sam’s phone number on the caller ID. “Sam, what’s up?” I asked.
“Just wanted to let you know the guys are setting up a command post on Third and Bentley and waiting for you there.”
“Awesome, thanks for the update.”
Sam was quiet for a few moments. “Be careful, Knight.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “I will be, Sam, no need to worry. I’m gonna get our fairy out of there pronto, and before you know it, we’ll all be sitting around your house, playing Monopoly and eating pizza.”
Eleven Snipers Sniping (A Short Story) (12 Days of Christmas series Book 11) Page 6
