by Leo Romero
"Good boy," Trixie said. She then flicked her eyes toward Miranda. Miranda went and pulled the lid down, covering Troy's body. He shrieked.
Trixie let out a languid giggle.
"Okay," came Troy's muffled voice from the center of the sunbed. "What do you wanna know?"
"Why did the Order break the pact?" asked Trixie.
"You broke the pact first," came Troy's reply.
"Like hell we did!"
"You sure did, Trix! You snuffed an Order vamp. Remember?"
Trixie and Dom glanced at one another. "Who?" Trixie asked, her face riddled with confusion.
"Drake."
"The vamp you killed," Trixie said to Dom, her eyes wide with illumination.
"He was Order?" Dom asked. "How the hell was I supposed to know that? It's not like they wear hats saying 'I AM ORDER'!"
"Hey. We never killed that vamp," Trixie said to the sunbed. "Dom did. Dom wasn't on our team at that time, so it's all a misunderstanding."
"Really?" Troy countered. "Then how come his brood identified you at the scene, Trixie? They said it was you. Both of you. At that point, Leviah declared the pact broken."
"They recognized me," Trixie said with a grim nod. She grabbed her forehead. "Oh Christ what a mess."
"Can't we just convince them it's all a mistake?" Dom asked.
Trixie gave him an incredulous stare. "Are you kidding? They almost killed Rufus and kidnapped my dad. I think the time for kissing and making up is long gone."
Dom shrugged. "Just a suggestion."
Trixie shook her head. "No, we gotta get Dad back." She slapped the top of the sunbed. "Hey, Troy. Where have they taken my dad?"
"I don't know."
Trixie glanced over at Miranda. "Hit the button," she told her.
"No, no, no!" came Troy's insta-protestations.
Miranda pushed down a switch on the sunbed. A mechanical whir started up.
"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Troy stammered in a panic.
A synthetic ultra-violet glow then began to emanate from the machine.
In seconds, Troy was screaming. "Arggh! No! Stop! Make it stop! It burns!"
"Tell us where they took my dad, Troy!" Trixie repeated through clenched teeth.
"Argh! The I-Sore building! The I-Sore building!" Troy shrieked.
Trixie nodded at Miranda and she flicked the switch off. The blue neon glow of the machine dulled.
"Oh, thank you," floated a relieved voice from the sunbed.
"The I-Sore building?" Trixie then echoed. "That's downtown."
"That's right. That's right," Troy said with a sigh.
"The very heart of the Loop," Trixie said to Dom before she walked away, grabbing her head. "Oh man this is bad."
"What are you gonna do, Trixie?" Troy then asked.
Trixie stopped and faced the sunbed. "With you or the Order?"
"Both."
"Well, it looks like we're gonna have to bring the Order to its knees to save my dad."
"And me?" came a nervous voice.
"You're gonna stay here."
"What? Can't you just let me go? I told you what you wanted to know."
"Let you go? After you set up me and Dom?"
"It wasn't me it was the Order. It was--"
"Hit that button!"
"No!"
Miranda pressed the button and the machine whirred into life; Troy began to scream.
Trixie gave it a few seconds. Then, "Okay, that's enough," she said.
Miranda switched it off.
Trixie went and pulled the sunbed lid up. Troy was lying there as stiff as cardboard. His face had gone a disturbing shade of dark red, random blisters popping up on his cheeks.
"Eww!" Trixie said, her face pinching.
Dom reached down, grabbed Troy's goggles and ripped them off his head. He now had two white circles around his eyes, making him look like an inverted panda.
Dom chuckled. "Nice tan, bro!"
Troy didn't see the funny side. "Assholes!" he said.
"Watch your mouth, Troy," Trixie said. "The Wolff's got an itchy finger on that button."
Troy rolled his eyes up to meet Miranda. She grinned back at him, her finger performing a big circle over the button.
Troy huffed. "So, what're you gonna do with me now?"
"You wait here till we get back," Trixie replied. She brought the lid back down. They all turned to head for the exit.
"Hey!" Troy shouted after them. "You're just gonna leave me here?"
"That's right, Troy," Trixie said over her shoulder. "We'll come by when we need you."
"Bastards!" Troy spat.
"Bye, Troy," Dom said with a grin before he pulled the door down, shutting off Troy's angry bleatings.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Trixie handed Dom the binoculars. "There's fangheads all around the entrance," she informed him.
Dom leaned over the lip of the rooftop they were on and put the binoculars up to his eyes to study the entrance to the I-Sore building. He saw a bunch of cops, and private security decked out in suits and earpieces. "Those aren't fangheads," he declared. "They're cops."
Trixie face contorted with incredulity. "I still can't quite decide if your naivety is annoying or endearing."
Dom looked back through the binoculars. The cops were watching the street with edgy glances. "You mean they're fangheads?" he said in a voice that could barely believe what he was hearing.
"Whether they're being paid with venom or hard, cold cash it makes no difference. They're compromised and no doubt have strict orders to kill any intruders."
Dom trained the binoculars up the entire length of the building. It was a black obelisk reaching for the night sky, its tinted glass sides glinting under the Chicago lights like onyx. It was the center point of the Loop, towering over every other skyscraper. The Order HQ. "There must be a hundred stories on that sucker," Dom said. "How are we gonna find Vincent in there without getting killed first?"
Trixie huffed. "I don't know."
"How are we even gonna get in there past all those cops?"
"There's gotta be a way."
"We could disguise as pizza delivery."
Trixie snatched the binoculars from him. "This isn't time for games, Dom."
Dom shrugged. He turned to face Miranda, who was squatting down next to them, scrutinizing the building. "What do you think, Ms. Wolff?" he asked her.
Miranda took the binoculars and scrutinized the building up and down. "Well, you could just storm in there all guns blazing," she suggested. "But that would rely too much on luck and hope that you don't alert the whole building to your presence. Or..." She pulled the binoculars from her face. "We find a way in that's unguarded."
"Okay," Trixie said. "Any ideas?"
Miranda turned her mouth downward. "One or two."
"Care to share them?" Dom asked in a faux pleasant voice.
"The roof," Miranda answered.
Dom frowned. Trixie's eyes lit up.
"The roof?" Dom echoed. "It's five miles up!"
"Yes, sweetie, but we have a helicopter," Miranda reminded him. "Two in fact."
Dom facepalmed. "Oh Christ."
"Hey, it's a great idea!" Trixie declared.
"Are you crazy? We're gonna land a chopper on the roof of the I-Sore building and no one's gonna notice?"
"Absolutely," Miranda answered.
Dom turned away and laughed.
"We'll just get in the helicopter, go for a little ride, before landing right on the roof." Miranda spoke with a dreamy smile on her face. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy."
Dom wasn't so sure.
"You know anyone who can fly a helicopter?" Trixie asked.
Miranda's mouth pinched. "I got a guy. Retired Special Forces. Flew choppers in Nam. He's a tad grizzled, but knows his way around."
"How fast can he get to the mansion?"
"I'll give him a call and find out," Miranda replied before retrieving her cell. She turned away while she made the call
.
Dom faced Trixie. "Okay. So we land on the roof. Then what?" he enquired. "Think they'll just let us in?"
"No," Trixie answered. "But, that thing in the safe is our ticket inside. We'll just give them what they want."
Dom took another glance at the imposing skyscraper they were planning on entering. It was a sentinel of death. Foreboding. It stood to attention like a black knight, overseeing its dark empire, shadowy oppression radiating from every panel of sun proof glass. Gathered around its feet were its hordes of indoctrinated minions, ready and waiting for the enemy to strike, their reward for their loyalty further brainwashing in the form of venom or paper.
Dom shook his head. "This so isn't gonna go well," he said with a regretful sigh.
"It's gonna go perfect, Dom," Trixie countered. "Have faith."
"I'm all outta faith, Trixie."
Trixie stared at him full on. "Then find some. Fast."
Miranda ended her call and turned back to face them.
"Well?" Trixie asked.
"All set. He'll meet us ASAP," Miranda informed her.
"Good. Come on, let's go and get ready."
They got back to the mansion to find an old guy with long gray hair and an equally gray handlebar mustache loitering by the front gates. He reached inside his green army jacket, which had numerous patches stitched into the shoulders and arms, and pulled out a small hip flask. He threw off the cap and took a swig.
Dom frowned. "Oh man, we got a hobo here."
"That's not a hobo," Miranda said, smiling and waving at the guy. The guy waved back while finishing his swig. "That's Mack. Your pilot."
Dom facepalmed. "Oh man..."
Miranda threw open her door and jumped out. "Hiya, Mack!" she said with a grin. "Long time no see." She went and gave him a hug.
Mack replaced his hip flask. "Always a pleasure, Ms. Wolff," he replied, returning the hug. They pulled away. Mack looked her up and down. "Wooh. Lady, you have still got it!" he said with a smile.
"Still the charmer, Mack," Miranda retorted.
Trixie and Dom followed up.
His warm blue eyes studied them all. "Howdy," he said with a nod.
Miranda turned to face them both. "Mack, this is Dom and Trixie."
"Nice to meet y'all," Mack said. "So, Miranda, what's the problem?"
"Let's go out back," Miranda suggested.
"Okay."
They took Mack through to the back yard. He stared at the broken glass in confusion. He looked up and laid eyes on the helicopters sitting on the grass. His jaw dropped. "Woah."
"Think you can fly one of these and land on the roof of the I-Sore building?" Miranda asked him.
Mack's slack-jawed face remained on the helicopters.
"Hello? Mack?" Miranda sang.
Mack responded by reaching for his hip flask. He took a long swig, gasped, and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Sure," he then said, meeting Miranda's stare. "No problemo!"
Miranda grinned. "Jolly good."
Mack stepped toward the nearest helicopter and ran a hand along its side.
Trixie leaned in toward Miranda. "You sure this guy's on the level?" she whispered.
"Mack's on the level, don't worry. He found out the hard way who and what really runs the world. Unfortunately, his protestations are just met with derisions of PTSD induced insanity."
Trixie puffed her cheeks and looked back at Mack. He was busy taking another swig from his canteen. She shook her head. "Whatever. We need to get moving. Dom get on the radio."
Dom retrieved the radio from his pocket. "Rhino Peacock," he said into it. "Rhino Peacock."
"No, no, no!" came a gruff reply. "You're Rhino Peacock, dumbass. I'm Husky Flamingo."
Dom gulped. "Oh yeah, Rhino Peacock! I got my animals confused there..."
"Have you found the needle yet?"
"Affirmative."
"Positive?"
"Affirmative."
"Ace."
"We've toasted the bullfrogs, found the needle in the haystack, and we're about to recon via the chopper to the roof of the I-Sore building."
"The what?"
"The I-Sore building."
"Dumbass! There's no such place. You mean the black fingernail!"
"Yeah, sorry, Rhino Peacock--"
"HUSKY FLAMINGO!"
"Sorry, Husky Flamingo, it slipped my mind. We've toasted the bullfrogs, found the needle in the haystack, and we're about to recon via the roof of the black fingernail."
"Radio in when you land."
"Roger out!"
The radio went dead. Dom puffed his cheeks. "All those frickin' code words are enough to drive you insane."
"So, now they're expecting us," Trixie noted. 'This is on."
"Certainly is," said Miranda, her face solemn.
"Ready Dom?" Trixie asked.
Dom shrugged. "I guess so."
A big grin then broke out on Miranda's face. She clapped her hands, attempting to lift the mood. "Spiffing! Now, why don't you two go and make any final preparations, while Mack jumps in the pilot's seat and gets himself acquainted."
"Come on, Dom," Trixie said, "let's get changed."
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dom and Trixie got into their disguises; combat pants, khaki tops, boots. On their heads, they pulled on balaclavas, finishing off the Blacklake effect.
"I feel like a dumbass," Dom declared.
"You look like one," Trixie told him.
"Ha ha, if I do, you do too. Man, this is so not gonna work."
"Don't start, Dom. We got no other choice."
They went out to the back yard where Miranda was waiting. "Wow, you two look the real deal," she said.
"This is so not gonna work," Dom told her, adjusting his balaclava.
"Don't talk nonsense, Dominic," Miranda said, approaching him. "Now tuck yourself in," she said, grabbing his khaki tee and stuffing it into his pants.
"Thanks, Mom."
"There, that's better," Miranda said, stepping back and checking him.
"Man, this so isn't gonna work," Dom repeated.
"You'll be fine," Miranda countered with a flip of her hand. "Stop fretting and get in the chopper."
"Mack ready?"
Miranda turned to face the pilot's seat. Mack was fiddling with buttons, hip flask in hand. "Ready as he'll ever be."
"He know what to say?"
"I've briefed him. He'll do his job. Trust me, have I ever let you down, Trixie?"
"Can't say you have, Miranda."
"Well then. Now get going will you and bring Vincent back. The poor devil must be terribly lonely in that wretched building."
"Let's go," said Trixie before she stepped up to the door of the helicopter and pulled it open. She jumped inside. She took her seat and turned back to see Dom still standing on the grass outside. "Come on," she urged.
Dom took tentative steps up to the helicopter. He climbed inside and took the seat opposite hers.
The moment he did, Mack started up the rotors. From behind his balaclava, Dom stared at the rotors with dread. He didn't do heights well, never mind being trapped inside a small metal bird. He watched the rotors spin as if mesmerized.
Miranda then stepped up to the open doorway, her hair ruffling under the air created by the rotors. "Mack will wait for you while you rescue Vincent. If you don't report back to him within an hour, he'll leave and dump the chopper."
Trixie buckled herself in. "Got it."
"Belt yourself in, Dominic," Miranda demanded.
Dom did as he was told like a good boy.
Miranda nodded her approval. "Now, do be careful out there," she said to them both. "The bigger kids can be frightful bullies."
"Don't worry about us, Miranda," Trixie said. "Bullies we can handle."
"Just make sure you come back in one piece."
"Certainly will," Trixie replied.
"Good luck," Miranda said with a smile. She saluted them both before she slid the door closed. The
whoop of the rotors dulled.
"Ready for liftoff?" Mack asked them both as he began tying back his hair.
"Ready as we'll ever be," Trixie shouted right back.
"Hey, they got a stereo in here and some CDs," Mack informed them. "How about we liven things up?"
"Shoot!"
"How about some of this?" Mack said as he fiddled with the stereo. A second later, the ghostly solo riff of Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses began swirling through the helicopter. Trixie started nodding her head in appreciation. Dom just stared. Mack took another swig from his canteen. He gasped in satisfaction. And then came the drop; hot drums and energetic guitars. Mack placed on a pair of shades and began banging his head. "Hold onto your butts!" he shouted over the blasting music. He threw up the collective and they shot into the air.
The sensation threw Dom off balance. "Woah!" He fell forward, reaching out and grabbing the first thing he could find, which was Trixie's thigh.
She threw his hand off. "Hey!"
Dom spun his head to face her. "This feels weird," he shouted as they jumped further away from the ground, the music getting louder. Dom's stomach flew up to his ears; nausea began to whirl inside him. It was like riding on a dinghy without the water.
"Get a grip," Trixie shouted at him.
"I've never been in a helicopter before, okay?" Dom shouted back.
"You think I have?"
Dom shook his head. "How the hell do I know!"
He turned his head to the side; he was met by very dark sky. His eyes rolled down and he spotted Miranda; she was tiny, a small toy figure standing on a sea of grass. She was waving up at them. Dom's face contorted in anguish and he pulled his head back. He sat in his seat like a cardboard cut-out, his hands gripping the sides. His head swam, his stomach churned, and still the chopper went higher and higher, meeting the sky, Guns N' Roses still raging.
"Yeeha!" came an abrupt cry from the pilot's seat.
Dom closed his eyes and gulped. Oh my God, this guy's a nut!
The helicopter then swung to the right; Dom's stomach went with it. "There's no place like home, no place like home," he repeated to himself in an insane mantra.
He flicked his eyes back open; he looked down again. The world was now like a model replica; Chicago was passing by in a haze of blocks and burning lights. I feel like I'm in the elevator at the end of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, he thought to himself.
