by John Conroe
Startled by my grab, Declan just nodded and left the metal weapon in my hand. “Mr. Pagano, we need to call for medical aid for those guards,” I said, moving toward the cardboard box-o-vamp while bouncing the orb up and down.
The big box suddenly lifted off the floor as a large black hole appeared a foot lower then the nine-millimeter hole and many times greater in diameter. The heavy, crashing shot hit our ears a millisecond later, bloody mist spraying across the concrete floor as the box was lifted a full six inches into the air before it came slamming down onto the ground.
Chapter 11
Grim took over and my body was twisting to throw the steel orb while the box was still lifting into the air. It shot like a small cannonball from my hand, lifting up toward the Superhub’s ceiling then arcing down to impact a web of girders suspended from the roof two hundred and ninety-six yards away.
The sound of impact was metal on flesh, and then a five-foot-long rifle clattered to the ground below. Whoever the sniper was, he was still alive, moving and flailing in his hide above the floor. The steel orb rolled out from the sniper’s side and fell toward the ground, only to stop in mid-air ten feet below. It rose back up and hovered near the wounded man, who was now sitting upright and trying to get to the suspended walkway with only one functional arm, the other flapping around him.
The orb shot down and a cry rang out. It was a long way away but my vampire-enhanced vision could see that he now had a broken leg to go with the shattered arm.
Turning back to the box, I found Stacia looking inside, shaking her head in anger. Declan was watching the sniper and his ball-o-death. Everyone else was now watching me.
“Still need to call some medical aid,” I suggested. The security boss pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt and requested EMTs. This place had it all: guards, SWAT and now its own paramedic team.
“She survive?” I asked Stacia.
She shook her head and let the box lids fall shut. Blood pooled under the cardboard and began to fill the small crater that had been blasted in the hard concrete floor. “Looks like a frangible hollowpoint. Fifty caliber.”
That matched the size of the rifle that had fallen. A .50 BMG, or Browning Machine Gun, round is a force unto itself. An ounce and three-quarters of bullet traveling at around three thousand feet per second produces over 13,000 foot-pounds of muzzle energy. Six and a half tons. Any way you look at it, that math is a bitch.
Combined with a hollowpoint bullet designed to come apart in flesh and you have a weapon that can take down a werewolf or vampire, even without adding any silver to the equation.
I looked back at the sniper’s spot just in time to see the man fall onto a stack of boxes, bouncing off the top and tumbling down the side of the pile. Three hundred pounds of black and tan fur and muscle met him at the bottom, pouncing on the wounded man and dragging him to us like a fresh kill. ‘Sos was very proud of his catch.
The sniper was alive, but sorely wounded. I revised my earlier diagnoses to a severely crushed shoulder and a broken hip, plus a bunch of contusions, bruises, and cuts from falling down the package pile. Stacia was right there with her cell phone to video his face. “Smile asshole,” she said before going back and videoing the girl in the box.
Pagano looked disgusted, like maybe Stacia had some troubling mental issues and collected gross pictures.
“Facial recognition software,” I said to him, pulling my own phone to make some important calls, first Nathan Stewart and then the plane. I’d normally reverse that order but my vamps were all still asleep.
Three hours later and we still hadn’t wrapped up the mess in the distribution center. The police had arrived, then the FBI, and finally Stewart, each with questions and more questions. We let them do their jobs, not telling them that Omega had already identified all parties involved and run their backstories as well.
“All four men served together in the same infantry platoon in Iran. Two of them fell under suspicion of war crimes but charges were never filed due to lack of evidence. Bank records indicate large deposits to each of their checking accounts within the last twelve hours. The vampire was Nancy Dyer, a dropout from UCLA who was working as a dancer in Vegas,” Omega had reported through Declan’s Bluetooth before the first ambulance had even arrived.
Now, half what could have been a decent nap was wasted on the slow-moving gears of justice. At least we were sitting in one of the Hub’s cafeterias, eating a pretty decent lunch.
The kid was juggling his new orb and his three older ones and doing a fair job of it. The occasional clang of steel on concrete told me he wasn’t cheating with telekinesis. The new one was bigger, an orange to the three cue-ball-sized older orbs.
“How long will it take them to piece it together?” he asked, nodding at the hive of agents that were swirling around Nathan and Adine by the coffee machines.
“Oh, they already have, maybe a half-hour ago, according to the Agent in Charge,” Stacia said, pausing to empty the last crumbs of potato chips from their bag onto her plate.
“You can have the rest of my…” Declan trailed off, only now noticing that his plate was completely empty, “—sub.”
She gave him a wicked smile and patted his arm, ignoring the stares of the lunching workers around us. We had a table completely to ourselves, but it was more like a center stage than a private island.
With another clang, one of the Orbs o’Death rolled away and came to rest at another table. The six people there froze, eyes flicking from the silver brindled steel back to us.
I waited to see how Declan would resolve it. We’d just had a little chat about demonstrating (which means terrifying) the general public with his powers. In hindsight, my guidance wasn’t necessary. His aunt had pummeled him about just that very thing for most of his young life. The show and tell had only happened because he felt that he needed to prevent Darwinian behaviors in the gun-toting section of the Hub’s workforce, particularly with regard to his girl. To teach a few object lessons, as it were.
He hopped up and walked over to the table, most of the workers instantly going quiet. He even managed to catch the attention of Stewart and company.
Picking up the errant ball, he apologized to the scared middle-aged woman whose foot had been nearest to it. She just nodded, but the lady next to her had enough chutzpah to hold out a hand and introduce herself.
Declan immediately shook it, smiling his sheepish smile and, just like that, the rest of the suddenly brave hands that came his way. He introduced himself but refrained from drawing the rest of us into it, except ‘Sos, who wandered over and bumped the young witch sideways. Another round of introductions were made, hands patted fur, and then were bear-wolf and uber witch came back to our table.
“Got a fan club?” Stacia asked.
“Just getting out and meeting the people. Ambassador of good will and happy thoughts,” he said, restarting his juggle.
“That’s not how ya do it, Junior,” she said, smirking. Her hand flickered and one of the orbs disappeared from the waterfall of steel he had going. Seconds later, it rolled to a stop at a table full of men.
Rising like a dancer, she gracefully stalked over to the table. It probably didn’t matter what she was wearing, but a faithful recount of events would include the fact that she had on fitted gray women’s tactical pants and a black performance t-shirt from Nike.
Three of the men almost smacked heads in their rush to pick up the ball. They all already knew who she was and what she was, but fear was forgotten in the face of what was likely a devastating smile (her back was to us, so I couldn’t be sure). Tanya is so right—men are really very simple creatures.
She too shook hands and smiled even more before sauntering back. True to form, all of the men watched her retreat with maybe even more interest than her arrival. I did mention the pants were fitted, right?
“That’s how it’s done,” she said, handing the ball to Declan, who in turn wrapped his larger hand around both the ball and her own hand
, holding her gaze for a moment. “I stand erected… err… corrected,” he said very softly.
“I bet you do,” she said, trying for snark but still pleased at his homage.
“Lydia’s right—get a room,” I said.
“Got a whole plane not far away, but we can’t seem to get to it,” he said, now yawning a little.
“Maybe sooner than you think,” I said with a nod at Stewart, who was headed our way.
Oddly, Adine stayed talking to the SAC although her eyes were watching Nathan the whole time. I think she acted as much as bodyguard as an assistant.
“Chris, Miss Reynolds, Declan, and, of course, Awasos, I think we’re done here. At least as far as you all go. I’d update you on progress but somehow I think you have more complete information than we do, eh Declan?” he asked.
“Essentially, Director,” Declan admitted.
“You should know that a flock of lawyers descended upon the hospital almost as soon as the men arrived. They’re threatening wrongful injury lawsuits,” Stewart said with slight tilt of his head and an interested gleam in his eye.
“We know,” I said.
“There is a montage video in your email inbox, Director. It’s got all the video coverage from every camera in the Hub that had a shot of the action. There’s also audio of a discussion between the sniper and someone else by cell phone, directing the sniper to kill the girl in the box. Electronic copies of their bank records showing deposits for ten thousand dollars each are also attached. We think that should be sufficient to dissuade the sharks from actually filing suit,” Declan said. “We have more if they don’t.”
“That’s fascinating, since you’ve all been here the whole time,” Stewart said with a smile.
“Please, Nathan,” I said. “We just went over this a few hours ago with the president.”
“I know, but it’s just so very fascinating,” he said. “You have more?” he asked Declan.
“You could mention to the lead attorney that his partnership has a few discrepancies in its last four years of tax returns. We’d be happy to detail them and copy the IRS at the same time. In fact, his own personal return has completely missed a foreign deposit account despite the fact that he checked off the box where he swears he doesn’t have any. Again, we’d be happy to provide details,” Declan said.
“That’s mildly terrifying,” Stewart noted, his smile gone. He glanced around. “Omega can go to that much depth?”
“Omega is slightly peeved at himself for failing to do so from the get-go,” Declan said.
“Wait, what?” Stacia asked.
“He feels he should have just been scanning every individual in sight and running all their background checks at the same time. He would have discovered the bought and paid for guards and we could have prevented the girl from getting killed,” Declan said. “He promises that it won’t happen again.”
“That’s what you’ve been reading on your phone isn’t it? Before all the juggling practice, right?” she asked.
“Yeah, he wanted to apologize. I accepted,” Declan said with a shrug.
“The first quantum computer in the world apologized for not running detailed analysis on everybody around you?” Stewart asked, getting it in before I could. This was news to me as well.
“Yes. Look, think of it this way. If I was walking your dog and it got run over because I failed to look both ways, I’d be feeling like an idiot and begging forgiveness, right? Same kind of thing,” Declan said.
“Running microscopic background checks on everybody around you is the same as looking both ways and a dog getting run over?” Stacia asked.
“Essentially,” he said, studying all our expressions. He sighed. “None of you really get just how much farther ahead he is, do you?”
“I thought I did, but apparently I’m too dumb to understand,” Stacia said, eyes narrowed.
He held up both hands, palm out. “Whoa. Never, never did I say that. I just forget that you all don’t have the same insight I have. How could you? None of you were melded with him when he was born. So please forgive my choice of words or tone; it wasn’t intended as condescension. The fact is, no one on the planet is smart enough to understand how much Omega really is. Expending that amount of computing power for him is really like us glancing both ways before crossing the street.”
“But you comprehend him?” Stacia asked, arms crossed. “You realize that in your example, you’re the dog, right? Or did you want to compare anyone else to a canine?”
“No, the dead vampire is the dog. And no, I don’t comprehend him, not even close. But I comprehend enough to let my imagination fill in the rest. Some of the rest,” he said, frowning at her.
“And now he is running these checks?” Stewart asked, frowning.
“Now he has already run them on every employee or visitor to this facility, everyone in the airport, hell, probably in Memphis. He’s also turning his attention to Vegas. Our flight plan is already filed,” Declan said the last part to me.
“Hold up there. We have to talk to the others,” I said.
He nodded. “That’s what I told him. He agreed but predicts a decision to leave no later then five-thirty. He’ll modify it if he’s wrong,” the kid said.
“That’s…” Stewart started, then trailed off.
“Disturbing?” Declan asked.
“At the least,” Stewart said.
The kid nodded. “Yeah, I’ve explained that to him so that he’ll refrain from telling us most of his own insights. I still get a bit more than everyone else though,” he said.
“Fascinating,” Stewart said.
“Among other words,” I replied. “Come on. Let’s get back to the plane.”
Stewart nodded, watching us walk away. Declan was shooting glances at Stacia, who was looking mostly ahead. Finally on his fourth glance in ten seconds, she sighed and grabbed his hand, bringing a quick, pleased smile to his face.
Chapter 12
The main cabin monitor was on and showing news coverage of the preparations for President Garth’s funeral. Tanya was sitting in a reclined seat, sipping a stainless steel coffee mug. My nose told me it didn’t contain coffee. Blood. My blood, to be exact. Doc Singh had been taking pints here and there to build up a food supply for the delivery and recovery. We had no real idea when she would give birth to the twins, as Tanya’s pregnancy was already very, very different from her mother’s. So we were preparing in case I wasn’t nearby or in case she needed a great deal more than normal.
“Hi zayka,” I said.
She gave me a cold stare and then turned back to the monitor. Declan mouthed a silent Oh. “Well, we’re just gonna catch a quick nap,” he said, beating feet for a quick exit. Stacia was already out the door that led to the sleeping quarters. Cowards.
I had a pretty good idea of what was wrong. “I didn’t want to disturb your sleep. Three of us plus ‘Sos was more than enough,” I said.
“Apparently not. The young one died,” she said. Damned quantum computers and their complete lack of discretion.
I almost answered with my first thought but caught my tongue at the last instant. Diplomacy? Good God, what was I becoming?
“Perhaps having you along might have saved her. Yet none of us knew there was a cleanup crew hired to execute her,” I said. “I deemed the need for your skills to be lower than the need for you to rest. I’m likely to make more errors of judgement.”
“Bullshit. What you really want to do is to tell me that I wouldn’t have made a difference,” she said. “But you don’t know that.”
“True and true. Maybe you would have smelled gun oil thirty feet overhead and almost three hundred yards away. But even if you had, it could still have been just a precautionary sharp shooter for the SWAT team. Having an overwatch would have been smart for any team coming out to meet with us. I’m not certain that either of us could have stopped a shot from a fifty caliber that we didn’t know was coming,” I said. “Regardless, it’s too late. The young v
ampire is dead, so we can’t talk to her. We can and are looking into everything Omega can find on her, though.”
She looked at me for a long moment. “If you had awoken to find me gone with the kid and the wolfgirl, how would you have felt?”
“Panicked and annoyed. Okay, your point is made. I will wake you from now on and stop making decisions for you. My protective instincts happen to be a bit hopped up right now where you and the babies are concerned,” I said.
“I know that. But you have to at least talk to me. If I’m truly honest, I would probably have told you to go without me, but it would have been me deciding for me,” she said.
“Got it. Can we stop beating that dead horse? It’s mostly mush by now,” I said.
