Jodi commented, “If you think these people are so unkillable why are you even joining us? It seems stupid to fight something you don’t think you can beat. In fact, sounds like suicide. And I’m not into suicide. I’m into taking these people down even if it costs me my badge.” She paused. “Or my life.”
“You’re gonna make sergeant yet,” Brightbarton frowned. “If we were in the station house I’d promote you right now.” He focused on Professor Graven. “Look here, old man, magic or wizards or Halloween costumes or whatever, these people are going down. And if you come with us you’d better be ready to pull the trigger on that buffalo gun. Or I’m gonna take it away and do some trophy hunting myself.”
“The professor’s right,” rumbled Joe Mac, facing the fire. “It’ll be a mistake to underestimate them. We have to plan for the probability that they already know we’re coming.” He grimaced, “They’ve been ahead of us at every turn. I don’t see why any of that would change now.”
“They don’t know we’re coming because we haven’t told Rollins!” Jodi said fiercely. “I’m telling you, Joe! Rollins is wrong! He’s been selling us out! That’s the only way we could have been ambushed! Twice!”
“Take it easy, kid.” Joe Mac’s dark glasses melted into the shadow of his heavy brow, so the top half of his head was hidden. “We’re still going in. That’s not gonna change. And you’re not a gunfighter, yet, but you will be before this is over – I promise you – so you ought to be grateful. This is gonna be a great learning experience for you. But we have to go in there with an edge – something they won’t see coming even if they see us coming.”
Jodi threw herself back into the couch and slapped her leg. “And how are we gonna do that, Joe? We are outmanned and outgunned in every way by a bunch of psychopathic freak murderers in Halloween costumes! We can’t trust anybody, so we can’t use any backup! I don’t see how in the world we’re gonna go in there with ‘an edge’ when we’ll be lucky to get in there at all! And we’ll be twice as lucky if we come out alive!” She raised both hands. “Joe, this is like Thermopylae when Leonidas and his three hundred were surrounded by a million scumbag-Persians with elephants and rhinos and all the Spartans had were their spears and swords and shields. And look how that ended.”
Marvin: “They died hard, though.”
“I’d rather make them die hard.”
“You should have been at Thermopylae.”
“I am.”
“For somebody that ain’t never killed nobody you sure seem ready for a whole lot of killing,” offered Brightbarton blandly. “Maybe you should try it on a little for size before you put it on your bucket list.”
“I’ve been exposed to more killing in the last three days than I have in my entire life,” Jodi replied. “If I survive this I’m going to open a flower shop. I’m going to surround myself with beautiful things that are pretty to look at.” Her face grew stony. “Yep. This is it for me. I’m not cut out for this. I don’t want to be sixty years old and the only thing I’ve ever looked at are dead bodies. Life is too short.”
Brightbarton laughed, “You were born for this job. You’ve got integrity and you’ve got brains, and you’ve got guts.” He grunted. “Put all that together with some good experience and you’ve got the perfect cop. Course …”
Jodi waited. “Of course … what?”
A pause.
“Well,” Brightbarton continued slowly, “what I was about to say was that, of course, you don’t ‘own it’ because it hasn’t cost you yet. It’s just been your job. I mean, it’s a job you’re good at, but, still, up to now it’s just been a job.” He was silent a long moment. “You don’t own it until it costs you.”
“Until it costs me what?”
“I don’t know,” Brightbarton shrugged. “It’s not the same thing with everybody. But you’ll know it when you get to it.”
Joe Mac was bent slightly forward, and his face was totally hidden in shadow, not even half visible. Cloaked in his dark coat, only his massive hands resting on the forearms of the black leather chair were visible. And for a moment Jodi wanted to ask Joe Mac what it would cost but decided against it. She could tell by the silence inside the darkness that it was something terrible, and it would never, ever leave her once it was done.
“Why don’t you let him in?” Joe Mac asked out of nowhere.
Setting down her glass, Jodi stood and walked to the back door of the home. She didn’t need to be told who it was as she opened the glass panel and stepped outside. She lifted her face and listened and in moments heard the familiar thunder of great, wide wings, and Poe settled on a small patio table.
She smiled, “Hey there, boy! Why don’t ya come inside?”
She stepped to the door and waited as Poe ducked and peeked through the opening beholding only what he could understand. Then he leaped and with a single flap sailed past her. After quietly closing the door Jodi walked back to the hearth to find Poe perched like a supernatural bodyguard on the chair beside Joe Mac’s head.
No one expressed surprise, but Brightbarton grunted, “Good god! That’s the biggest crow I ever did see.”
“He’s a raven,” said Jodi. “His name is Poe.”
Brightbarton lifted a toast. “Hello, Poe.”
“Hello,” said Poe.
Brightbarton coughed up whiskey. “It talks?”
“Poe can speak very well when he wants to.” With a surprise, Jodi found herself laughing; something about the situation made her feel like she was more of a veteran than Brightbarton. “Poe knows that words are important.”
“Does he know what they mean?”
“Sure he does.”
“I ain’t never seen no talking crow before!”
“He’s not a crow! He’s a –”
“I know! He’s a raven! What’s the difference?”
Jodi blinked, genuinely offended although she wasn’t sure why. “There’s a lot of difference between a crow and a raven, captain. Ravens are different physically, and their brains are wired in a far more complicated way than any other kind of bird. Or any other creature as far as that goes. Biologists say they’re the most intelligent creatures on Earth next to humans. They say ravens are even smarter than dolphins.”
“No way!”
Jodi accepted the challenge before she even consciously recognized it as such. She glanced left and right, searching for a way to prove how smart Poe was. She grabbed a piece of chicken from the Chinese box.
Jodi said, “Poe can’t get to this unless he uses one tool to reach another tool.”
“Animals don’t use tools,” said Brightbarton.
“Sure they do. Apes use sticks to drag ants out of ant hills. But I’m making this so that Poe has to use one tool to get to another tool. Plus that, he has to figure out water volume and displacement, so we’re talking about the same kind of mechanical thinking people use to build a boat.”
“Ha!” Brightbarton burst out. “I wanna see this!”
Jodi picked up a tall glass, walked into the kitchen, and half-filled it with water. Then she tied the string around a piece of chicken and dropped the chicken into the glass; the chicken sank to the bottom, but the string floated on the surface.
Clearly, if Poe could reach the string, he could have the chicken. But the glass was tall and the string was floating well out of reach. Finally, Jodi walked to the back door, went outside, and gathered up a handful of rocks. Then she walked back inside and sat the rocks on the floor beside the glass.
Smiling as she knelt, Jodi locked eyes with Poe and whispered, “Poe! Hey there, my love! Here’s some chicken! You hungry? Come and eat, okay?”
Poe glanced at everyone, then leaped to the floor. He dipped his head, studying the chicken at the bottom of the glass. He attempted to reach his head down and grab the string, but it was beyond his reach. He stepped back. He studied the glass. The water. The string. He looked at the rocks. Then he picked up a rock with his long black beak and dropped it in the water.<
br />
The water level – and the string – rose a fraction of an inch.
He studied the water level again.
Brightbarton was leaning forward, eyes wide. “Look at him!”
“Shhh …”
Although Jodi had anticipated it, she was still fascinated as Poe dropped rock after rock into the glass until he finally decided the string was within reach. Then he stuck down his long beak and snared it. Within seconds he had used the talons of one foot and his beak to pull up the string, so he could grab the chicken.
“My god,” whispered Brightbarton, “I would have never believed it. He’s smart, ain’t he?”
Joe Mac grunted, “He’s more’n smart. He knows things.” He paused. “Things that even people don’t know.”
“Like what?” asked Brightbarton.
Jodi said, “Like who has a good heart, and who doesn’t. And he knows when things threaten the people he loves. And he does love. Don’t ya, big guy?”
Poe continued tearing at the chicken.
“That is indeed a fascinating animal, but we are going to need all our strength tomorrow, so I am going to bed,” said the professor. “By the way, we do have the option of using more police tomorrow night if we’re in a truly life-threatening situation, don’t we?”
“No,” said Joe Mac. “Our security is compromised, so we don’t have that option. I don’t wanna have to worry about what’s in front of me and what’s behind me.”
Jodi looked at Marvin. “You okay with all this?”
“I’m good,” he nodded. “I’m in.”
“You could get killed, Marvin.”
“Or I could die of old age counting dinosaur bones. But I’d rather go out like this. With you.” His smile was warm. “You’re more fun.”
“Yeah,” Brightbarton stated, “that’s what we used to say back in the war. We used to say that war is actually a lot of fun as long as you don’t get killed.”
Graven stood. “I’m sure you are all quite capable of making your own sleeping arrangements. But I must go to bed. I’m too old to stay up all night discussing a strategy which will probably go out the window thirty seconds after we implement it.” He set down his glass. “It reminds me of a saying we had in Vietnam.”
“What was that?” asked Marvin.
“We used to say that no plan, however perfect, survives the first thirty seconds of combat.” He bowed to Jodi, nodded to the rest. “And with that, my friends, I’ll say goodnight.” He walked slowly to the door and turned. “Goodnight, Poe.”
Poe stared without blinking.
Professor Graven was gone.
“There’s no such thing as a perfect plan,” muttered Brightbarton and took another sip. “You can trust me on that one.” He raised a toast to Jodi. “Congratulations, kid. Remember what I told you?”
“Yeah,” Jodi stared into the flames. “You said that I don’t own it ‘til it costs me. And Joe said that if I go up against something that is truly evil it might be something a lot bigger than me that pulls the trigger. But I’m not sure what either of you mean.”
“If you win this,” Brightbarton nodded, “you’ll know.”
Poe rose with a single tremendous flap of his wide, wide wings and settled once more on Joe Mac’s chair. And, very slowly, Joe Mac reached up and the huge raven pensively dipped its head so that Joe Mac could smooth its feathers. And for a moment, as Jodi studied it, it seemed like they shared something spiritual. But, whatever it was, it was certain that no one else in the room shared it with them.
Brightbarton swept his glass over the two open gun cases. “Grenades. Masks. Extra ammo. Rifles. Feel free to take your pick. I reckon we could smuggle in a howitzer under these robes.”
“I’ve got my Glock and two clips,” said Jodi. “I’m good.”
“You’ll carry as much ammo as you can carry,” said Joe Mac.
“Why do I need more ammo, Joe? I’ve got sixty rounds.”
“First rule of combat. If you know that the chances are good that you’re gonna get into a fight, then you carry as much ammo as you can carry.”
“Why is that?”
“Because as long as you’ve got ammo, you’ve got options. But when you run out of ammo, you run out of options.”
Jodi swallowed a sip of wine and replied, “Okay, then.”
Marvin was frowning at the gun cases. “Well I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m gonna carry a rifle, four or five pistols, lots of ammo, some grenades, a bulletproof vest and … we got anything else?”
“That’s about it, chief,” said Brightbarton.
Marvin lifted his glass to Poe.
“On a wing and a prayer.”
* * *
Joe Mac didn’t move from his chair.
Jodi knew it because she didn’t move from the couch.
The only action Joe Mac took was to push up his utterly black glasses. And Poe stayed perched beside his head as motionless as Death as the hours slowly passed with the flame of the hearth casting strange spectral shadows.
Jodi felt they were thinking the same dark thing or beholding the same dark vision. But nothing could be read in Joe Mac’s black glasses that hid eyes that saw nothing – just as nothing could be read in Poe’s black eyes – eyes that saw everything.
She wondered if Poe ever dreamed.
“You don’t own it ‘till it costs you …”
Sleep came to her far too slowly ...
Then she dreamed of Death.
* * *
Jodi noticed she was half-way between dream and sleep for a long time, and then she slowly rose from the couch, pushing off the afghan. She stared about the flame-shadowed room wondering what had awakened her before she saw her cell phone pulsing on the coffee table; she picked it up.
“Hello,” she murmured.
“Jodi! It’s me!”
Jodi blinked rapidly; “Rollins?”
“Yes!”
It took her a split-second to orient, but even before she was fully conscious she knew that this was terrible. She reached down to pick up a shoe to throw at Joe Mac, but when she glanced up she saw that he was fully awake with his face turned in her direction. Even Poe was watching her.
“Rollins?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m in a bad way, Jodi.” His breathing was rapid and panicked. “The only person they’re letting me call is you.”
Jodi stood, automatically sliding on her shoes. “Where are you, Jack? We’re on our way.” She hesitated. “That’s what they want, isn’t it? They want us to come to you?”
“Yes!”
Jodi realized she was expecting to feel alarmed, and five days ago she knew she would have been, but she was dead calm. “Fine. Tell ‘em we’re coming. Where are you?”
“I’m at Pier twenty-three,” he said. “I’m at the end of the pier.”
Jodi clicked off the cell, and Joe Mac was already shoving extra .45s in his coat. “I’ll wake up Marvin and the captain,” she said and started across the room.
“No!”
Jodi stopped. “Why not?”
“Because they’re luring us into a last-minute ambush,” Joe Mac stated coldly. “They want all of us to show up so that they can kill every single one of us. That’s why we can’t bring Steve and Marvin. If this goes bad, which it probably will, there’s gotta to be somebody left who can stop them from sacrificing that little boy tomorrow night. We can’t afford to get everybody killed trying to rescue Rollins.”
Jodi didn’t like the logic but knew he was right. If they were all killed in this gambit there wouldn’t be anybody to stop these psychos from cutting off the head of a four-year-old boy which meant that the two of them would be walking into an ambush with no backup.
“Why do they have him on a pier?” she asked as she picked up extra clips.
“Because there’ ain’t but one way in and one way out,” said Joe Mac, chambering a .45. “Once we get out on that pier, we’re sitting ducks. One man with a rifle
can kill all three of us – no sweat. That’s why they’ll have Rollins wired or chained down real good.”
She threw on her coat. “You think they’ve got him strapped to a bomb?”
“Probably something like it.”
“Great.”
“But we’ve got backup.”
“What backup?”
“Take a guess.”
“Oh, yeah. The Brothers. Almost forgot.”
Jodi picked up the keys to Brightbarton’s car from a table beside the front door. In moments, they were leaving the beautiful grounds of the subdivision and angling down the hill toward a violence that was becoming more a part of her with each second. She hit the exit cruising with a calm control she didn’t expect and didn’t say a word as she merged into traffic, still amazed that she was feeling so calm.
“Is this what it’s like?” she asked in a low voice. “You play this game every night, cheat death, and don’t think anything about it?”
“If that’s what you’re made of,” said Joe Mac.
“Is that what I’m made of?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It is. Here, dial Ronnie at this number.” He gave her a card, Jodi dialed the number and Joe Mac took the cell. A second later he said, “Yeah, Ronnie. It’s Joe Mac. Listen, I got a situation on Pier 23. Yeah, your back yard. Same goombahs. They want me and Jodi to go out on the pier so they can ice us. I need you and the boys to find them before we walk out there. Yeah, snipers.” A pause. “Yeah, kill every one of them. Don’t worry about the paperwork. There ain’t gonna be any. We’re gonna wrap ‘em in razor wire and sink ‘em. Our ETA is about a half-hour. Yeah, call me back on this line. We’re not gonna move until you give me the all-clear.”
He clicked it, and Jodi muttered, “The brothers do come in handy.”
“Put that thing on vibrate. I don’t want it sounding when we’re close to the pier. It’ll give away our position.”
She switched off the sound.
“The brothers must owe you big-time, Joe.”
“We owe each other.” Joe Mac turned his face to the window. “I’ve covered for them a few times. Nothing serious. A few Mafia bulls trying to horn in on the teamsters.” He paused. “It wasn’t actually ‘murder.’ It was more like self-defense.”
DARK VISIONS Page 24
