by Greg Curtis
It was a responsibility that rocked him down to his toenails. No one should do that. Not to him. One minute he was a thief, the next he was totally responsible for the life of an innocent. And he knew there was no way he could ever let her down and live with himself. Easier to commit suicide. Better too, far better. Her safety was a crushing responsibility but there was no way to avoid it. He simply had to save her or die trying.
Desperate and with absolutely no time to explain his actions, Mikel carried her to the door like a baby, briefly startled at how absurdly light she was. Surely part of it must have been the raw adrenaline coursing through his veins, - but not all. Yet that too was something to wonder about later. For now he simply had to flee, and so did she. If she objected to his man handling of her he never heard it in his mad rush. Nor would he have listened.
The locked door instantly swung open at his touch and he sprinted down the corridor to the elevators while the rest of his preparations came to mind. Time to cover his tracks and a add a little misdirection. Actually a lot of misdirection.
He punched several more of the buttons on his belt’s controller unit, setting an incendiary and several acid smoke devices off in the apartment they’d just vacated. Despite the sudden wallop of noise that seemed to echo through the floor under his feet as they exploded, it was safer than most would expect. The walls of the apartment had been reinforced and then covered with an asbestos cladding just for this purpose, and the sprinklers would activate in time. All it would do would be to remove all traces of him from the room. Fingerprints, body fluids and even the blood he’d just lost would be cooked beyond recognition before the sprinklers on their delayed timers started up and washed the residue away. Of course he was probably still loosing blood as he ran down the corridors. Enough to be spotted, traced? There was no way of knowing and no time to worry about it.
A second button ensured that the building’s four lifts had now all stopped coming to the floor, except of course for one. That should really confuse them, and he laughed silently to himself as he thought of their confusion. Every time the thugs punched for the thirtieth floor they’d actually find the twenty-first, although the indicator would say thirty. In effect the thirtieth was now missing along with the thirteenth of most American high rises. In fact all the floors from the twenty second to the thirty ninth were off limits to the lifts. But would the thugs be bright enough to realize? There in lay the danger. Thugs were not noted for their intelligence. But he had that covered as well.
One lift of course he had set to bring them down safely, the one lift that had been out of order for the entire day, much to the annoyance of the other residents of the apartment block, while the repairmen had been kept away. Perhaps they’d forgive him if they knew what he’d just done. If they knew how much good would come of this night’s work. Then again, he suspected, most of the residents would really want nothing more than a cut of the take. He’d learned long ago that greed is a very human trait, maybe the most human. Fortunately if he did his work well, they’d never find out. He always did his work well.
He quickly bundled the angel into the waiting empty lift and pushed the button for the sub basement, a high speed, non-stop express ride. He chuckled under his breath at the thought of them staring at the signs on the ground floor, seeing the lights indicating this lift was permanently half way between the ninth and tenth floors, and then taking the other lifts to everywhere but the correct floor. And all the while he and the angel would just descend silently, straight past their pursuers who’d never know.
Next the residents. It was time to make sure of their safety too. It was all very well making a clean getaway, but leaving others to face the wrath of the gun totting thugs in his place was unacceptable. He prided himself on preparing for this eventuality in every single operation. Thus far no one had ever died in his stead, nor would he ever permit such a disgrace.
Mikel activated the security systems he’d put in place on every single one of the building’s fifty seven floors. Bluff as much as reality, the warning systems began their screaming, no doubt causing wide spread chaos and panic but keeping people safe. The speakers were now advising every one on every floor that security cameras were operating and to stay in their apartments as gunmen were loose while the police were on their way. Meanwhile a mild sedative was rolling through the halls and stairwells. The lifts themselves were gushing out a much more potent one.
Those few of the gunmen that made it out of the working lifts, would be desperately hiding their weapons and trying to look innocent, until they too collapsed. He laughed quietly at the thought of the gunmen snoozing their way to jail. Pleasant dreams followed up by a miserable wake up call. Everything they deserved and at least the beginning of justice for their victims.
A sudden awareness entered his thoughts and he jumped as he realized he was still holding the angel in his arms. As before his traitorous limbs had again failed to let go. In fact his arms were around her – he didn’t want to think what they held. Hastily Mikel released her and leapt backwards in the lift like a scalded cat, embarrassed, confused, and – something else he didn’t want to admit to himself, ever.
“I ah, that is ah…” His power of speech suddenly seemed to have deserted him even as he rediscovered English, and he looked everywhere but at her. But only for a brief moment, until his highly practiced survival instincts took over once more. Fear was a marvellous teacher, and for once he truly had reason to be afraid. She was in his care. They might be hidden but they were still deep in enemy territory, and perhaps soon to be under fire if they weren’t careful. They weren’t out of the woods yet and there were still things he had to do to make sure they did get clear.
Mikel punched several more buttons on his belt, activating the engine of his Lotus and getting it to drive itself to the lift exit where they’d get out, while also locking down the parking level and turning off the security cameras. No point in leaving themselves open to attack while walking to the car across a darkened parking floor. Another button activated a tape recorder which placed a frantic 911 call to the police, claiming gun shots in the building he’d just robbed. A major police presence arriving on the scene ought to slow up their pursuers, not to mention panic their boss, who had an enormous amount to hide. More than he knew actually.
Another smile crept towards Mikel’s mouth and he quickly suppressed it. Pride was a dangerous emotion. It led to overconfidence. But still he had done well. The best part was still to play. The police, as soon as they’d entered the mobster’s suite would hear more shots, pre-recorded naturally, and break in to the safe room to find oodles of blood everywhere. It was fake blood of course.
Immediately they’d call for forensics and seal the room, which was exactly what he wanted them to do. Because the moment they examined the room they’d find the vast amounts of incriminating evidence about China Meringa, which he’d carefully left for them. Photo’s, bank records, written statements, taped conversations, and even some of his evil white powder. The mob boss shouldn’t have kept it in his safe. Mikel had done everything but join the dots for them. And legally it would stand scrutiny no matter how many lawyers the mob hired. The police were responding to an emergency call, and had probable cause. The evidence they would find was all legitimate and undeniable. Mr. Meringa would be lucky to get out of jail before the next ice age.
A job well done.
He congratulated himself on another job well done even as the lift door finally opened and the Lotus sat there directly in front of them, engine running, doors unlocked. And then with some horror, he realized he might have been just a tad too hasty as he looked anew at the angel and the car. Sure she might only be average height, say five six or so, but those wings extended way over her head to perhaps seven feet, before folding and dropping back almost to the floor in a single graceful span. There was no way she’d fit in the tiny sports car.
Mind spinning like a top in the sudden panic, he quickly found an answer. The only answer. Steal a ca
r. It was the only way. Take somebody else’s own car; something he was loath to do as he didn’t steal from innocent people, and pray nobody found out until much, much later. He wondered if she would understand.
Still there wasn’t any choice, and they both knew it. Soon the police or the goons would arrive, neither being noted for their tolerance of thieves. He couldn’t be here, and he had to bring her with him. Without understanding why he knew absolutely he had to bring her with him.
Before he had a chance to even begin to panic however, the angel solved his nightmare herself. She ran to the passenger’s side of the Lotus, pushed the seat all the way back and dived face forwards on to it. Did she understand the danger they were in after all? Or was she just trying to help him out of a tight spot? He had no time to ask. Amazingly the angel somehow fitted into the tiny space. It was tight though. Even with the seat pushed all the way back like a cot her wings barely fit between the rear window and the front passenger’s foot well.
Mikel hurriedly gathered her wings into the door wells, carefully shut the door on them, hurdled the small car’s bonnet and lowered himself into the driver’s seat. Even for his more humanly proportioned, though admittedly over-large frame, the car was a squeeze. For an angel it was surely as close as she could come to a straight jacket. It should be a living nightmare for her. The loss of the freedom of the sky in exchange for the convenience of a tin can on wheels. It was just wrong.
But looking across at her he still saw that same expression in her eyes, complete trust. Without any good reason, she believed in him totally. She knew he wouldn’t let her down. He would get her out of this he promised the heavens above silently; he had to.
“We’ll be OK.” He said it as much for his own benefit as for hers. He was trying to bolster his own confidence, badly shaken by the terrible number of mistakes he had already made in a single evening, and that the fact that her appearance represented both a bulls eye painted on his back, and a weight around his neck. The angel would stand out like a sore thumb, and be harder to bear than any dead albatross. Yet he could not fail her. In response she just smiled again, and he literally had to look away before he fell once more under her power. Even looking away, he could feel her smiling. Could that even be possible?
Mikel didn’t have time to think about the impossibility of it all, as he pushed his foot all the way to the floor, and the car took off like a rocket, which was of course why he’d always used the Lotus as his choice of getaway car. The relatively small turbo charged engine made it the equal of any other car in its class, while its light weight and massive tires gave it a tremendous edge in acceleration and handling.
He’d never needed the awesome abilities of the Lotus before, the benefit of good planning, based on a desire to live a long life. But he’d long ago made it a rule never to stint on safety. You only get one shot at life, and if the worst had come to the worst he didn’t want to be caught dead in a slow coffin, literally. This time however, his planning while good, had been more than a little upset by the angel’s arrival. He was at least twenty minutes behind schedule, and to cap it all, the angel had been seen, if only to shoot at. Mikel simply had to hope he didn’t need the car’s awesome performance.
Leaving the underground car park sedately; he had to calm his nerves and drive normally if he was to pass by unnoticed, he saw the first of the police arriving, and knew they saw him. But despite his terror they passed him by, the sight of an angel in his passenger seat apparently not enough to stop them in their duty. Of course they didn’t have time to stop him now, they were on their way to an emergency in the next building, moving so fast they surely hadn’t seen her. Why would they care about some rich yuppie in his sports car with a winged woman, when lives were on the line next door? But that wouldn’t stop some of the more alert of them taking down his license plate details for later. Which was all well and good as he reminded himself. The plates would lead the police to another local crime family, one of the triads, whose number plates he’d carefully forged. Should be a hot time in the old town when that came out.
Minutes later they were cruising sedately along the motorway out of town; after all he didn’t want a ticket, least of all with an angel in the car, and travelled towards the seaport and his waiting plane. The police band radio blared loudly in the tiny cabin, but he heard no reference to either the Lotus or the angel. They must truly have been oblivious this night, something for which he felt truly grateful. Normally they weren’t so unobservant. Which was why he’d planned on having plenty of time to make his getaway.
Twenty minutes into the drive, having listened to the scanner intently, he could finally accept that they were in the clear. A huge weight began lifting from his shoulders. For what seemed like the first time in many long hours, he relaxed his muscles and started breathing again. Finally things were back on track. Mikel activated the controls that would warm the plane’s engines, and radioed in his pre flight plans. No point in leaving these things for the last minute. Especially this day.
It was a long drive, though at least no longer a scary one, as the immediate danger had passed, and all other risks had hopefully been prepared for. If not he’d deal with the problems as they arose. As he always had. But as the danger passed, and the pleasure at the success of his latest mission came and then passed, his mind kept returning to the angel like a magnet. And no matter how many times he tried to concentrate on anything else, his thoughts always zeroed back on the woman, the angel beside him.
It was lust of course, simple lust. What drew him back, was the sight of her, now lying on her side squeezed into the seat beside him. Her wings enveloped her in the most luxurious feathery blanket imaginable. In the cramped cabin he couldn’t help but brush them every time he changed gear, the feathers so divinely soft and smooth he had to restrain himself from petting them like a bird’s. Then there were her clothes, layers upon layers of gossamer thin silk, almost transparent and showing off the sensual curves of her body to perfection. She was undeniably gorgeous, demure and innocent yet strong and sensual. In short she was a platinum blond bombshell, and then some.
“I thought angels weren’t supposed to be sexy.” From where the words came he wasn’t sure, but he turned red even as he uttered them, and it was all he could do not to cross himself. He turned redder still when he felt her response, pleasure that he should think her so. It became difficult to drive about then and he forcefully had to exert some more self control or risk ending his career as the most successful thief the world had ever known in a routine highway accident.
“I live. I strive. I win.”
He spoke out loud the three short sentences of his personal mantra, ignoring her gaze, determined to regain control of his errant thoughts. Long ago he’d begun studying the martial arts, honing his mind and body to razor keenness. Developing his own mantra had been one of the most useful parts of all those long years. The mantra had once allowed him to walk for miles on a broken leg. He’d regularly used it to push his body and conscious beyond their normal endurance, and to allow his mind free reign over seemingly insoluble problems. Used properly it could help him achieve the seemingly impossible. But never once had he thought he’d need it to overcome simple lust.
Repeating the words over and over again, focusing on them, he quickly reasserted his control, and allowed his mind to start wandering free of his body’s desires. More accurately it allowed him to recognize them, and set them aside so he could concentrate on other matters, such as the other cars on the road.
Questions, too long unasked began to pepper him. Who was she? Why was she here? What did she want with him? And above all else why was she so powerfully attractive to him? Was it simple lust? – Or was it something more sinister? The word ‘trap’ started running through his thoughts, years of paranoia finally coming back to the fore.
Then there was the question of how she’d found him, and more importantly, why? Had it been by chance? Had she simply been out flying around up there when she’d seen h
is high wire act and flown in for a look? He didn’t think so. Somehow he was certain that she had known who and what he was long before she’d ever shown up. She’d sought him out deliberately, even picking out the most awkward moment to make herself known. Why? Because it told him she knew everything about him, his ever vigilant paranoia whispered. She was telling him he had no choice but to do as she wanted, - or face life behind bars. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but it made perfect sense. And there was no other explanation.
Eventually he pulled himself back together and then took the opportunity of the long drive to ask the angel some of the things he desperately needed to know. He should have guessed he would meet with only limited success. Her method of communication and his were so far apart, added to which he also had to concentrate on staying alive, that it was a wonder he picked up anything at all. And yet for all the lack of hard information he received from her he somehow felt she said more in her way than he did with his clumsy words.
By the end of that drive the only new concrete information he had was her name, Sherial, which sounded to his ears the way it seemed to sound in her thoughts, if that made any sense at all.
But Sherial he gathered was an angel’s name, along with Michael, Raphael and Gabriel, and an angel was what she clearly was. Free of his twisted emotions he could finally acknowledge that mind-boggling impossibility with impunity. This winged beauty beside him was an angel. There could be no argument.
