“Yes, of course. I would too.” She had to bite back the rest of what she wanted to say about how much she loved him and had missed him these last six years; he would never had understood and probably would have thought her crazy.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He gave her a tamer peck on the cheek before he headed back for his car. With another man the promise of a call didn’t mean anything, but she knew Dan would call her tomorrow; he never broke his promises.
She waited until she was certain he’d left before she started to waddle back to the bus stop. So caught up in her memory of that kiss, she didn’t pay attention to the rustling of the bushes until the first man leaped out of them to grab her. Two others joined him; they pinned her arms behind her back. They dragged her into the bushes, out of sight from any passerby.
Emma didn’t recognize them, but they had the beefy look of Don Vendetta’s goons. She couldn’t imagine why they would want to harm Becky, except as a way to send a message to Councilwoman Napier. One of the goons began to speak, his voice with an obvious Russian accent. “Your friend took something that doesn’t belong to her,” the goon said. “My boss wants it back.”
She tried to say something, but one of the thugs had a hand over her mouth. In her real body she might have been able to wriggle free and take them out, even without the scarlet armor. As Becky, especially in this dress and uncomfortable shoes, she didn’t have a chance. She could do nothing but lie in the dirt and pray they didn’t kill her.
“You, Piggy, are going to tell her to give it back. She has twenty-four hours to deliver the object to the Russian embassy or else we’ll be back for you.” To emphasize this point, the goon took a knife out of his pocket. He pressed it against Emma’s throat so she could feel the cold metal of the blade against her skin. To her shame, she felt her panties turn wet. “You understand?”
Emma nodded. “Good.” The goon must have smelled the mess she’d made. He told his comrades in Russian that the pig had made a mess; they all shared a laugh while she could do nothing but cry. “And don’t think about calling the police. Understand?” She nodded again. “Good little piggy.” He patted her on the cheek before he stood up and tucked the knife into his belt. His comrades let Emma go and then disappeared into the darkness.
She lay on the ground for a while to sob at her own cowardice and the unfairness that just when things started to go right they could go so horribly wrong.
Chapter 23
Becky hardly ever went to Robinson Park in the best of times. She had little use for the jogging paths, manmade lake, and playgrounds as she didn’t jog, swim, or have kids. She had even less use for the band shelter, which primarily housed orchestras, swing bands, and smooth jazz musicians. Without Marlin’s guidance she wouldn’t have even been able to find the shelter, where Captain Donovan usually met with the Scarlet Knight.
Emma and the police captain usually exchanged messages through an anonymous Email account. It was fortunate for Becky that Emma had left her BlackBerry at Becky’s house, where she had seen an incoming message. Captain Donovan was the only one who knew about the account, so Becky didn’t feel too badly when she opened the message. After all, she was the Scarlet Knight right now; why shouldn’t she answer the Scarlet Knight’s messages?
The next most difficult part was to get down the hill to the band shelter without tripping over Emma’s big feet. It did sound like fun to roll downhill in the armor, but it would certainly make her look like an idiot to Captain Donovan. Maybe she could try it later, after the detective left.
Marlin whizzed ahead of her to survey the scene and then reported back that the captain was alone. This put Becky’s mind at ease. This would probably just be a routine call where the captain would ask for the Scarlet Knight’s help in a case.
The last thing she expected as she mounted the stage was for Captain Donovan to spit a wad of gum at her feet and then pull out her pistol. “Don’t take another step,” the captain said.
“That gun won’t hurt me,” Becky said. “You might as well put it away.”
“Maybe my gun won’t hurt you, but let’s see how you do against the SWAT team.”
“You’re bluffing. There’s no one else here.”
“Maybe, or maybe they’re hiding really well.”
“Look, you called me here, so why don’t you just tell me what you want so I can get back to work?”
“You’ve got the voice right and you even have the same size feet. You need to do a little more homework on the attitude though. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Captain Donovan waved at her with one finger. “Such language. She never talks like that. She’s too goody-two-shoes for that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you’re not the same Scarlet Knight. Maybe you can tell me what happened to her. Did you kill her? Or did one of the don’s thugs? I’d just like to know what became of my former business associate.”
Becky sighed again. She supposed there wasn’t any point to lie to Captain Donovan, who had spent more than enough time around the real Emma to tell the difference between her and an impostor. “She’s taking a vacation. I’m filling in. Like a temp.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t give a shit what you believe. I’m the Scarlet Knight now, so you deal with me.” Becky took a step forward. “Do you want anything or not?”
“I want you to end this charade. I’ve got Napier and that little anti-you coalition put together by that dope from the museum riding my ass.”
“That isn’t my fault.”
“I don’t care whose fault anything is.” Captain Donovan reached into her jacket for a stick of gum to pop into her mouth. “They’re strong-arming the commissioner into setting up a task force to keep the Scarlet Knight off the streets. I’m trying to keep it from coming to that, but I can’t when some costumed bozo goes around breaking up Korean markets. Get it?”
“Hey, I’m just trying to do my duty—”
“Don’t give me that shit! This city has been going along fine without you.” Captain Donovan spat her gum out at Becky’s feet. “Don Vendetta is still out there and still operating, but we’re getting closer to her all the time. It’s not like it was six years ago; we don’t need you anymore. So why don’t you go hang up your cape?”
Becky wanted to break the police captain’s jaw but thought better of it. She pointed to the woman instead. “You’re going to need me. And soon. There’s something terrible about to raise its ugly head, something you aren’t going to be able to stop. I’m the only one who can stop it. And if that means I make things a little uncomfortable for you, then too fucking bad.” She wished she could at least borrow her normal voice for this as the cursing sounded feeble in Emma’s soft little voice.
“It’s going to be too fucking bad for you when that task force starts to bear down on you. You can bet your yellow booties the people they choose will all be on Don Vendetta’s payroll. They aren’t going to stop until they’ve got your head on a stick for her.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Becky left the police captain to smolder; Becky wrapped the cape around herself and then trudged back up the hill. “Fucking ingrate,” she grumbled once she reached the summit.
“They always are,” Marlin said. “Now, let’s get back to work.”
***
The Scarlet Knight didn’t usually venture near the Plastic Hippo, the strip club that served as Don Vendetta’s headquarters. The don wasn’t stupid enough not to guard this base of operations; she kept two-dozen of her toughest goons around the place. They supplemented the bouncers at the front entrance to the club and more discreetly patrolled the alleys around the building as well as the roof. Emma had long ago decided it was too difficult to storm into the Plastic Hippo after Don Vendetta and even then she would have required some kind of evidence to turn the crime boss over to the police.
Be
cky had no such lofty intentions. After her meeting with Captain Donovan, Becky decided to go to the source of her troubles. If she didn’t make it inside then she might at least put a few of the don’s goons out of commission. She’d have plenty of replacements, but Becky would send her a message.
“This is foolish,” Marlin said. “You’re not ready for the don’s stronghold.”
“You’re the one who said we should crack down on her goons.”
“I meant at some of her less-protected hangouts.”
“Hey, this is good strategy. A surprise attack. She’ll never see it coming.”
“She won’t expect it because it’s so bloody stupid.”
“Whatever. The point is she won’t expect it and we’ll catch her unawares.”
“Have you considered that you’re putting Emma’s body in danger foolishly?”
“She does that all the time.”
“Yes, well, that’s her decision.”
Becky lifted the helmet’s visor to glare at the ghost, though she was certain this too would lack impact with Emma’s sweet face. “You can either help me or you can stay out of my way. Get it?”
“Fine. Maybe I can find a way for you to get in without getting killed.” The ghost sped away to leave Becky to hunker down on a rooftop that overlooked the Plastic Hippo. She had to admit there was another issue at play here too. Six years ago one of her coworkers at then-Councilman Lintner’s office had taken her to the club. She had stormed off, wound up in an alley, and was nearly killed until Emma intervened as the Scarlet Knight. To take down the club at the heart of that painful memory would feel good.
Marlin returned a few minutes later to report where the don had stationed her thugs. Seven of them were on the roof, another dozen scattered around the alleys, and four worked the front door. “Plus there’s another six inside,” he said. “Not to mention she’s got cameras all over so that cape isn’t going to work.”
“All right, then we’ll just try the direct approach.” Without another word, Becky started to run for the edge of the roof. She vaulted into the air and waited until she was about halfway down to let her cape free. The golden cape formed a parachute to slow her descent. She coasted down into the alley to face four goons with machine guns. They had probably already called for backup.
“Hey guys, how you doing? I hope I didn’t miss my cue.”
“No, you’re right on time to die.”
“Easy there, fella. I’m not the real Scarlet Knight. I’m an impersonator. The don thought it would be funny to have me go out on stage and show everyone my secret identity—if you catch my drift.” The four goons clearly didn’t understand her. “I’m here to strip. Is that clear enough for you?”
“No one said nothing about no new girl,” the goon she took for the leader said.
“Really? I’ve got a contract right here.” Becky reached to her side and in one fluid motion freed the Sword of Justice from its scabbard. She tossed the golden blade at the four goons; she didn’t bother to try to aim it. The sword distracted them long enough for her to dart forward and grab the first goon by the arm. She ripped the machine gun from his hand and then used the butt of it to break his nose. He went down in a heap, his hands pressed to his face. A kick to his midsection sent him down the rest of the way to the ground.
Becky spun around to face the other three goons and fired a burst at their kneecaps. They screamed in pain and then joined their comrade on the ground. Becky didn’t have any time to savor this victory as more moved in. They didn’t bother with subtlety as they opened fire with their weapons. Becky ducked behind a garbage can, and fired short bursts from her weapon to keep their heads down.
“What the hell are you doing?” Marlin asked.
“I’m kicking ass,” Becky said.
“The Scarlet Knight doesn’t use a bloody gun.”
“Where’s that in the rulebook?”
“It’s sort of an unwritten rule,” the ghost said. He raised his voice to be heard over another barrage from her weapon. “The real Emma would never use a gun. You know that.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not her.” She took a moment to glare at the ghost. “I do whatever it takes to get the job done.”
To emphasize this point, Becky rolled out from behind the garbage can. Bullets pinged off her armor, but she hardly noticed these. She ran straight towards the don’s men; she carefully aimed her weapon to hit them in the knees, shoulders, and other non-vital areas. They would be taken out of the fight but they would live. That should make that damned ghost happy, she thought.
When her weapon ran out of ammunition, she snatched another one from a fallen goon. Before it was empty, she had the last of them down with a punch to the throat. The man collapsed to the ground; he struggled to breathe, but Becky saw that he would live.
It didn’t come as much of a surprise when Marlin said, “Thanks to all that ruckus the don’s taken off.”
“Fine. I think I made my point.” She grabbed one of the goons still conscious and pulled him close to her face. “You pass the word along to that slimy shit that there’s a new Scarlet Knight in town and I’m not playing games. She can either get out of town on her own or in a casket. You got it?” The thug nodded. Becky tossed him back to the ground. Then she snapped the machine gun over her knee and stomped victorious out of the alley.
“Well, that was impressive,” Marlin said.
“I think I’m starting to like this,” Becky said. She charged the boots and then leaped onto the roof of a building. Don Vendetta had gone to ground but there was still plenty for her to do.
***
Marlin warned her of someone screaming for help in an alley near McKinley Boulevard in the Trenches. From what the ghost could discern, a man held a knife to a girl’s throat and was about to rape her. “We’ll see about that,” Becky said.
McKinley Boulevard was two blocks away; she covered the distance in less than a minute. She launched herself from the roof of an apartment building like the crummy one where she and Emma had first lived in the city. Since there wasn’t much time before the man in the alley finished with his prey, Becky didn’t bother to use the cape to slow her descent; she trusted in the armor to protect her.
She crashed into the alley and made a human-shaped dent in the pavement. As expected, the armor kept her from feeling more than a momentary stab of pain that in the morning would probably turn into a body-length bruise. She pushed herself up to her feet; her cape swirled as she turned to face the man.
The woman was already dead. From the paleness of her skin, she’d been dead for some time. Her attacker threw his knife away and then stood up until he towered a full foot over Becky. He reached into the pocket of his black trench coat to produce a cheap portable tape recorder. He pressed a button; the woman’s scream played again.
“I didn’t think you’d fall for so obvious a ruse,” the man said.
Though she had no idea who this man was, she could feel the evil radiate from him. This was the one Steve had warned her about in her vision; this was the one she had put on the scarlet armor to stop. “Yeah, well, I’m a sucker for damsels in distress.” She reached to her hip for the Sword of Justice. “So, who are you?”
“We’ve met before. In the zoo. And at the hotel.”
“Koschei,” Marlin whispered into Becky’s ear. “He’s the bloke Emma pushed off the roof. The one she thought she killed.”
“So, you had a little trouble staying dead, huh? Let’s take care of that.” She lunged forward; she hoped her superior speed would let her get in under his longer reach. He moved so quickly she didn’t even see it, until he punched her in the chest. The impact of his fist sent her into a wall; she made an even greater dent in the wall than in the pavement.
Becky sat there, dazed, for a moment. She staggered to her feet and pulled the Sword of Justice from its scabbard. Before she could get it into a defensive position, Koschei was on her. He tore the sword away from her hand and flung it into an opposing wall
. Becky kicked feebly at his midsection, but this didn’t faze him at all. He clamped one hand around her throat and began to squeeze the life from her.
“This is too easy,” he said. “I expected more of a fight from you. Perhaps you are not what I thought you were.”
Becky wanted to reply with some kind of witty remark, but at the moment her windpipe was being crushed so she could only wheeze. She batted at his chest with her fists, but this didn’t lessen his grip on her throat. Her vision began to dim around the edges; it wouldn’t be long until she passed out and never woke up again.
She tried to think of what Emma would do in this situation. Emma would probably not have gotten into this mess to start with. She probably would have seen the trap and approached the situation with more caution. It was too bad Becky wouldn’t get a chance to learn from her mistake.
“The sword,” Marlin whispered into her ear. “Use the bloody sword!”
She couldn’t say anything to acknowledge him or even move her head to nod. She could only move her eyes just enough to see the Sword of Justice embedded in a wall. She strained with her mind to urge the sword to free itself even as the life drained from her. Spots stained her vision as her oxygen supply reached empty and still the golden blade didn’t move.
She focused with all of her will to urge the Sword of Justice to free itself. The sword finally responded; the blade eased free from the wall. She didn’t have the mental capacity at this point to guide it properly, so the sword tumbled end-over-end clumsily at Koschei. Just before the sword reached him, he swatted at it with his free hand. Becky had anticipated this; she used the last of her strength to command the Sword of Justice to climb higher, just enough to avoid Koschei’s arm.
The golden blade stabbed into Koschei’s left shoulder. He howled in pain; his hand released Becky’s neck. She collapsed to the ground and gasped for air. When Koschei grabbed the Sword of Justice to pull it free, the golden blade glowed as bright as a sun. He screamed again as the hilt scorched his hand. If Becky hadn’t been on the ground struggling to breathe, she might have found it comical how Koschei ran in circles around the alley to shake the Sword of Justice free.
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis Page 20
