by Michael Todd
“I’m sorry I wasn’t been any more help,” the woman said.
“Oh, no.” Charlotte smiled. “You were a huge help, thank you so much for your time.”
“You’re welcome. Be safe out here, a young thing like you.” She shook her head. “It’ll get dark soon, and you don’t want to be on these streets by yourself then.”
“Yes, ma’am. I only have a couple more things to do, then I’ll be on my way.” Charlotte smiled as she walked down the porch stairs and back to the sidewalk.
She sighed and shoved her folded notebook into the back pocket of her pants. She started walking, not sure where she was going but figuring maybe something would catch her eye. About a block down, she stopped and stared at a pawn shop located right there on the corner. They had cameras everywhere, every single one of which was pointed in a different direction—including straight down the street toward the drug house.
Charlotte knew the owners of the pawn shop wouldn’t be too keen on letting her walk in there and grab footage from their cameras. It was a bad neighborhood, and if they thought they could be implicated in getting some thug caught, they would stay far away. She thought about calling the police to get the information for her, but in this kind of neighborhood the owners would just say the cameras weren’t working.
They wouldn’t want any kind of retaliation against the shop, since it was their livelihood and a good one for an area like that. She looked through her bag and stared down at the camera inside. It was her most prized possession; she had worked for over a year to save up enough money to afford the thing. It was the reason she got so many cover stories for the publication—she had the camera there to point and shoot. She didn’t make enough to pay a photographer, so that was pretty much her only move.
She knew she would have to use it to negotiate if she wanted to see that data.
She pulled out her phone, and looked through her received calls until she found the one from Calvin. If they wanted information they were going to have to help her get it, and that meant making sure she got her camera back after her effort. She wanted to know about her aunt, but this camera was the key to her livelihood.
Katie answered, “Hello?”
“Katie, it’s Charlotte,” she replied.
“Hey! Have you found anything out?”
“Just the color and make of the car,” Charlotte said. “But look, there is a pawn shop here on the corner with cameras pointing straight at the drug house. I know that whatever they have on tape, it’s going to give me something really good to go from. The thing is, they aren’t just going to hand it over. I’m going to need you to promise me that you will get my camera out of hock when you are done.”
“Your camera?” Katie asked, confused.
“It’s all I have to barter with,” Charlotte explained. “And it’s the only thing I have to my name, so I need it back.”
“All right,” Katie agreed. “Write down the name and address of the shop and whatever I need to get camera back, and I’ll take care of it. When you get the information, call us immediately.”
“Will do,” Charlotte said, pressing End.
She looked at the store and straightened her shirt, slightly nervous. She worked for a publication where you didn’t go undercover very often. In most cases you were right out there in the open. “Undercover” to her meant finding the right bush to hide in, then pretending to be someone else.
She pulled out her camera and looked down at it sadly, even rubbing her thumb over the top like she was petting a dog.
“Don’t worry, little camera,” she whispered. “I’ll make sure you get back home safe and sound, but first I gotta help find a world-class asshole.”
Charlotte put on a tough face and put the camera back in her bag, then walked into the pawn shop. The owner came over from one side of his counter to the area closer to her and smiled as she approached the counter. He knew she was there for more than jewelry or DVD’s.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I need to see your camera footage from the other night,” she told him.
“Do you have a warrant?” he asked, guarded.
“Oh, no. I’m not a cop, I’m a reporter.” She smiled sweetly.
“Oh.” He chuckled, then straightened his face and leaned across the counter, his hands clasped in front of him. “Then what do you have to offer me in return?”
Charlotte sighed and reached into her bag, slowly pulling out the camera and setting it on the counter. She was starting to think demon hunting wasn’t as glamorous as it looked to be.
Either way, though, she was in it—and there was no turning back.
Chapter Sixteen
“The death of those children was not only devastating, but it is something I and the rest of the politicians in this country should take full responsibility for, I believe,” the politician lamented as he sat in his chair. “There is no excuse for a bus full of children being captured and injured—or killed, in several cases—without the hand of God himself coming down on them.” His voice rose as one of his fingers stabbed the air above his head. “There should have been strategies employed long before this to keep our children safe. They are the future of this world. Those tiny hands and tiny feet will sculpt our future.” He dropped his arm and sighed heavily, weariness in his voice. “Now we have a bus full of children, including three whose families we pray for nightly, with terrible memories. From what I’ve been told they are all seeing therapists, but there is no excuse for a child to ever have to go through something that damaging—not when we could have avoided it from the beginning.”
“And what are your plans to prevent future events like this?” an Hispanic male reporter asked.
The politician nodded and sat up a little straighter. “I am currently pushing legislation through that will make it a requirement for all buses to have tracking devices active at all times—paid for by the federal government of course,” he explained. “We understand that the smaller communities don’t have the funds to accomplish this, but their children are no less important than the ones who live and go to school in the larger communities.”
“Well, sir, I have to say I am incredibly impressed by your demeanor and thoughts on the whole process,” the reporter said, putting his notes in his briefcase. “Thank you for taking time from your busy schedule for us.”
“Absolutely.” The politician smiled, watching as the reporter stood up and walked out of the room.
As soon as he was out and the doors were shut, his smile faded. He pulled at his necktie, shaking his head. The driver, who also happened to be his righthand man, made his way to his boss and handed him a bottle of water.
“That went well.” He chuckled.
He opened the water with a twist and took a swallow. “I hate fucking reporters,” the politician growled. “But as it happens, I have a silent interest in the companies that will be bidding on this project if it goes through, so I’ll make out on the end.”
“What happens if you lose, sir?”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He shrugged. “I threw the dogs a bone. If I lose the bone, no skin off my back, right?”
“Absolutely.” His driver laughed.
“Things didn’t go as they were supposed to,” a voice inside the politician’s head spat.
The politician doubled over and grabbed his head, groaning slightly as he slid off the chair and onto his knees. Sweat dripped copiously from his forehead onto the floor as he shook wildly. He groaned at the pain of T’Chezz coming through mentally. His human body had a very hard time making connections like this.
“T’Chezz.” The politician spoke out loud. “What can I do for my prince?”
We will try this again, he snarled. And if he fails, so do you.
His failure was not my fault, The politician wiped at the blood dripping from his nose. I did everything you asked me to.
Do it again, T’Chezz shouted.
“Yes,” he said aloud, with fear in his voice. “R
ight away.”
Good, T’Chezz growled, and cut off the communication.
The politician screamed and fell onto his butt on the floor. His driver rushed over, grabbing him under the arms and lifting him into the chair. He kept his eyes closed and breathed deeply, waiting for the ringing to leave his ears. His driver patted the blood from under his nose and held out the water bottle. The politician opened his eyes and nodded at the driver, then took the water and sipped it.
“Where is the document?” the politician barked.
“Here, sir,” the driver said, handing it over.
“We have to do an operation tonight,” he said, snatching the sheet from the driver’s hand and unfolding it. “I just have to find a suitable location to let loose a small nuclear demon.”
“May I suggest Inglewood?” the driver suggested. “Those bleeding-heart liberals could do with a little more bleeding.”
“While I’m always happy to barbeque a few dozen Republicans, I suppose sometimes our people have to take one for the team,” the politician said, leaning back and smiling. “I wouldn’t be a man of the people if I was picky, would I now?”
“My apologies,” the driver said, slightly nervous. “I didn’t realize that you were a Democrat. I thought it was all for show, given the companies that you do business with. Of course, these days who can tell, in politics? We have a president who was a Democrat until he ran, and is now a staunch Republican. I never did understand politics. I think that’s why I just stayed the muscle of the group.”
“You are too softhearted for politics, my friend.” The politician smiled. “And that’s a good thing. The rest of us make deals with the devil, literally. No, I’m not really a Democrat, just on paper. Both those groups will kiss my ring right after I’ve shoved my hands up their asses.”
The driver laughed along with the politician, not fully understanding what he meant.
“It’s a shame we don’t have any real Republican areas in Los Angeles.” The politician sighed. “I could definitely sit back and sip a beer to the harmonious sounds of demons crunching on Republican leg bones and the underlying symphony of their screams. It definitely isn’t like it used to be. Don’t get me wrong—it’s not that I love Democrats. I just hate Republicans more. I guess you could call me a moderate. As in, I moderate which one I hate more at any given moment.”
The politician laughed loudly as he folded up the sheet of paper and handed it back to the driver. He stood up and fixed his sweaty hair, wiping his hands on the towel the driver handed him and tossing it on the table in front of him. He had fire in his eyes, and he knew that no matter how much he wanted to be done with the whole mess, he had to live up to his end of the bargain. He would never get what had been promised if he didn’t.
“Come on, we have a demon to open a door for,” he said, walking off.
Katie leaned forward. “Hey, take this next exit. I want to check out that gun store on the signs. There were some self-loading ammunition pieces that I wanted to see, and I’m sure a place like that would have the information I am looking for.”
“All right,” Calvin agreed enthusiastically. “I like to see you curious about weapons.”
When they pulled up, there was a sign on the door prohibiting the carrying of firearms in the establishment. Katie sighed and pulled off her vest, gently laying it in the back and running her hand over her knives. She didn’t like leaving them anywhere they could be found, and she definitely didn’t like walking around without a weapon. Calvin looked at her as he took his guns out and set them in their cases behind his seat. He could tell she was nervous about going in unarmed.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s a lot easier to not be carrying when everyone in there has a gun. If you need one, just take one of theirs—although I don’t see us having any issues in this tiny bit of time. You will be fine. Just think of it as walking in like any normal person.”
“I feel naked,” she grumped. “This is not what I wanted to do—be unarmed in this city while we were here.”
“You’ll be fine,” Calvin told her as he shut the car door.
The two walked into the shop, and immediately Katie was drawn to the first case. They had anything and everything that she would ever need to arm herself—minus her special weapons, of course. Calvin and Katie proceeded from case to case, oohing and aahing at everything they saw. There were Berettas, Grubers, and special barely legal sawed-off shotguns with holster hooks built in so you could carry it on your belt without a long leather case. On the wall was every kind of crossbow she could imagine.
You are the only girlie in here, Pandora cooed. The others don’t seem to be paying you any mind, though. Maybe those curves are essential after all.
Shhh, Katie hissed. I’m busy here.
Katie glanced at the other five guys in the shop, but as Pandora had stated, they weren’t paying her any attention at all. She liked the fact that she was like anyone else in there, but it seemed like Pandora had been hoping for more.
She couldn’t take her anywhere without her making some snide comment about the men, not even into a gun store.
Well, fuck, Pandora groused. I guess that really was a gun in his pocket and he wasn’t excited to see me in the least.
Katie ignored Pandora’s constant bitching about her lack of sexual attention and continued shopping. It took everything in her not to purchase something, but she didn’t have an ID, and knew there was no way she could get anything there without one. She was turning to talk to the guy behind the counter when the alarm connected to the front door’s metal detectors sounded. Two young thugs raced into the building, their pistols drawn. Katie straightened up, lifted her eyebrows, and stared at them like they were idiots.
“Everyone needs to…needs to…” The perps stopped in their tracks and glanced at each other.
Katie leaned against the nearest case and looked at the guys in the store. All five of them had drawn their pistols and pointed them at the perps. She chuckled and looked at the guy behind the counter, who had a sawed-off pointing in their direction. Slowly the two thugs lowered their pistols and tossed them on the floor, put their hands behind their heads, and spread their legs. They knew they had lost before they had even gotten started.
“So much for not bringing in weapons,” Katie whispered.
“No. You see, all five of those guys are cops.” Calvin chuckled. “They are allowed to carry anywhere. This has to be the worst place that you could ever try and hold up.”
Bwahahaahaha, Pandora roared. Humans are so goddamned stupid! Of all the motherfucking places to try to rob, these two fucking morons walked straight into a gun shop full of cops. Bwahahahaha! They deserve to be shot. Seriously, natural selection was never more perfect than in this case. There was a slight pause before she continued, Where are the bangs? Fuck me, I wish I had popcorn… Oh, come on! Where the hell are the flying body parts? Well, shit. This just went PG-13.
Katie shook her head and turned back to the counter, waiting for the guy behind it to put away his gun. She smirked as he rolled his eyes and shook his head, placing his shotgun out of sight under the counter and turning to Katie.
She shook her head and laughed.
“What can I do for you today?” he asked. “Now that the morons are taken care of.”
“I wanted to know what it would take to run my own ammunition with special metals, and no, I don’t know the metal’s specs,” she began.
“Hmm,” he replied, rubbing his chin. “Something like that would take a specialist, and you won’t find one anywhere around Inglewood. Where do you live?”
“Las Vegas.”
“Uhmmm. The closest one to here would be a place in Las Vegas. Let me get you their information. They will be able to answer your questions better than I would.”
“Thank you.” She smiled as he pulled out his book and wrote down the information on a piece of paper. “You all be safe out there. It must be a full moon.”
“You too.” Katie lau
ghed, nodded at Calvin, and walked out of the store.
Katie watched as the cops pushed the handcuffed idiots into the back of a patrol car. As the man shut the door one of the perps looked at Katie and smirked, his eyes flashing red. She grabbed Calvin’s arm, nodding at the perp. The two cops standing closest to them were whispering and looking at Katie.
“What?” she asked, turning around and staring at them.
“Sorry,” one of them said. “Not trying to be rude.”
“It’s just that, well, we were wondering,” the other cop began in a nervous tone. “Are you guys the D Squad? You match the descriptions a couple of colleagues from San Diego gave us.”
“Man,” Katie snapped, shaking her head and looking at Calvin. “You can’t keep someone’s mouth shut to save your life.”
“I knew that threat wouldn’t work,” Calvin growled.
“You know what?” Katie smirked. “I think this time it just might work out in our favor.”
“What do you mean?” Calvin asked.
Katie nodded at the two cops and smiled, then wandered over to the cop car and looked through the window at the perps. The one with the flashing red eyes snarled and growled through the glass for a moment, then his face went straight. It was obvious that he could sense Pandora inside her, and, well, none of the demons wanted to fuck with her—not even a little bit. Katie tapped on the glass and waved her fingers, and looked at one of the cops.
“Do me a favor,” she requested. “I want you to take this fool out of the car, but leave the other one inside.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “That perp is a little squirrelly. He tried to bite my partner when he put him in there.”
She nodded. “I’m sure he did. Just stay behind my partner. I got your back.”
“All right,” the cop said, opening the door and grabbing the guy by the collar. “You didn’t want to go in there, and now you don’t want to come out. Now stay right-fucking-there like a good boy and talk to the nice lady.”
“Hi there.” Katie smirked, rubbing her hands together and flashing her eyes. “Let’s have a little fun.”
