Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis

by P. T. Dilloway

  By the time she reached the Gertzman Bridge, she wanted to scream, “Whee!” That would of course be far too undignified for a forty-seven-year-old superhero with an adult daughter, so she kept silent. As she ducked beneath the elderly suspension bridge, bums gathered around flaming barrels scattered; they probably thought she had come for them. Another time maybe she would have, though she imagined she probably had bigger fish to fry.

  She brought the bike to a halt and looked around for Lottie Donovan, who would by now be sixty-five. Instead, she saw only a woman younger than herself. “You sure know how to make an entrance,” Amanda Murdoch said.

  That Amanda was her contact didn’t come as a huge surprise. After the RAT Bombings, Amanda had decided to drop out of Rampart State and go to the police academy instead. From her meetings with the girl, Emma knew Amanda had more than enough toughness and tenacity to replace Donovan. “It’s a lot quicker than jumping off rooftops,” Emma said. Her Scarlet Knight voice sounded even raspier now.

  “I could probably write you a ticket, but neither of us has time to show up in court.”

  “You probably have much bigger fish on your plate.”

  “Yeah, a whole fucking kettle of them.” Amanda reached into the pocket of her olive green army surplus coat to remove a holographic projector. An overhead view of Rampart City came on with numerous red blips that reminded Emma of the display in the Sanctuary. “The Chinese are making a big push over on the east side. On the waterfront we’ve got the Koreans making noise again. The Puerto Ricans and Mexicans are having it out in the Trenches. Plus we’ve got the Russians and Swedes ensconced downtown. Makes you wish Don Vendetta was still around. At least then it was more predictable.”

  Emma wanted to ask Amanda about the Swedes, but she knew that wouldn’t be a question this Scarlet Knight would ask. Instead, she said, “So who do you want to go after first?”

  “Well, my sources are telling me some Finns are bringing in a load of guns for the Russians to wipe out the Swedes.” Amanda tapped a warehouse for a freight company about three miles away. “That’s where it’s going down.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “You go in, bash some heads, and I’ll bring in some backup to mop up.”

  This took Emma a little by surprise as Captain Donovan usually scolded her not to directly involve herself in these operations. Maybe the situation was so bad the police didn’t care who helped them so long as someone did. “You can count on me, A—Detective,” she said.

  “I’ll have my people ready to move in twenty minutes. That should give you enough time to pacify the area.”

  “Right.” Emma tossed Amanda a salute before she climbed onto her bike again and jetted towards the freight company. As she did, she just hoped Louise didn’t come back from Aggie’s house too soon or she’d have to come up with a lie, something she never found easy to do. Though she was certain Louise would find the truth far less believable.

  ***

  Like other vehicles, tractor-trailers had become quieter, to the point Emma almost didn’t notice the convoy as it rolled into the freight company yard. She tapped the side of her helmet; the night vision allowed her to see men unload crates from the backs of the trucks. The labels were in Chinese, which she knew well enough to know these were the guns.

  Another group of vehicles approached, three heavy-duty pickups that were probably there to take delivery of the crates. She watched as men emerged from these pickups to meet with some of the others from the tractor-trailers. Then she wrapped the cape around her body and hopped off the roof she’d used for cover.

  Given what Amanda had said, the plan seemed simple enough: sneak up on them and use the armor to knock them out. The first part of the plan went easy enough. She crept along the side of the freight company office and then bolted across the open terrain between the office and the nearest tractor-trailer. Once she was there, Marlin appeared before her. “These blokes don’t seem too bright,” he said. “No cameras or goggles.”

  She nodded to him and continued to make her way along the sides of the trucks. She froze as floodlights on the tops of the trucks suddenly came to life to turn the area so bright she had to turn off the night vision in her helmet. Before she could wonder if they looked for her, she saw two-dozen heavily-armed men jump out of the tractor-trailers to surround those from the pickups.

  Emma knew some Finnish, enough that she could understand the Finns had decided it would be better to keep the guns and take the money from the Russians. She watched in horror as the Finns disarmed the Russians and then forced them to their knees. She didn’t have time for any better plan than to drop the cape and shout in Finnish, “Stop!”

  Thirty machine guns suddenly turned to face her. “What you want?” one of the Finns asked in English.

  “You’re all under arrest. Drop the weapons.” This was greeted by a moment of silence, followed by laughter. The Finns opened fire just as Emma wrapped the cape around herself again and then dove to her left.

  She rolled along the ground while the Finns split up to search for her. She continued to roll along until she was within six inches of the Finns left behind to guard the Russian prisoners. Emma felt a sting of pain run through her back as she got back onto her feet.

  Then she let the cape drop. Her first kick caught one of the Finns by surprise to knock him to the ground. When she tried to spin around to take out another, the man ducked out of the way and then hit her across the face with the butt of his rifle. She collapsed onto her knees. Her leg sweep wasn’t perfect, but her right foot managed to cause him to stumble, which gave her time to drive the heel of her hand into his solar plexus.

  Two Finns jumped onto her back to shove her to the ground. She managed to take hold of one’s shirt and flip him over her shoulder. This freed her up to spin around and land an uppercut to the other’s jaw. She got to her feet and stifled a groan of pain. Then she reached to her belt to take out the Sword of Justice.

  The golden blade glowed brightly as the Finns turned to face her. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” she said. “It’s your choice.”

  “Fire!” one of the Finns shouted.

  Emma planted herself in front of the Russian prisoners so no bullets would hit them. Once the Finns had to stop to reload, she bounded into the air. The jump wasn’t quite as high as she’d hoped; she landed in front of the Finns instead of behind them. It didn’t really matter, as she brought the Sword of Justice up to slash through the barrels of their rifles.

  Then she tried to knock one Finn down with a spin kick only to again find she was a moment too slow, so that the man ducked enough to make it a slight blow. One of the Finns used his broken rifle like a club to smash it across her helmet. She dropped to her knees and the Sword of Justice fell from her hands.

  “Why are you messing about with this kung-fu nonsense?” Marlin screamed at her. “Just beat them to a bloody pulp already!”

  “Good advice,” she whispered. Two Finns seized her by the arms and hefted her to her feet.

  “You are not so great,” the apparent leader of the Finns said. He spit in her face.

  Snappy comebacks were never her forte, so she let the Sword of Justice make the statement for her. She guided the sword to hover a few inches in the air and then slash across the lead Finn’s hamstrings. While he screamed in pain and dropped to the ground, Emma sent the blade towards one of the Finns who held her. The golden sword sliced into the man’s thigh; he ended up on the ground next to his boss.

  With her arm free, Emma was able to spin and punch the other man in the face. She decided not to try any more of her martial arts moves; she relied instead on good old-fashioned street brawling. She grabbed the arm of a man who tried to punch her and then decked him in the face. A few of the Finns managed to get in glancing shots, but the armor protected her from any serious injury. She dropped the last one with a right cross and then panted amidst the fallen bodies as the first police cars screamed into the parking lot.<
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  “I guess it’s time to go,” she said. She called the Sword of Justice to her hand.

  Marlin waited until she had made it back to her bike to harangue her. “What did you think you were doing?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You really have gone daft. What’s gotten into you?”

  “Well, it’s kind of hard to explain.” She tried anyway to explain to him about the spell in the archives that had brought her twenty years into the future, into the body of this older version of herself. “I don’t think I can leave until that book is destroyed.”

  “I already told you how to destroy it.”

  “I know, but I’m hoping for something a little less final. For me.”

  “Fine. Maybe you should talk to the witch.”

  “I guess so.” Emma jerked the bike to the left to avoid a car at the light. “Do you know how it is that Aggie and Akako produced a daughter?”

  Marlin’s body quivered as he imitated a shiver. “Ghastly business, that. The old bat turned herself into a man for about three months, until she knew her girlfriend was pregnant.”

  “And Renee, is she a witch too?”

  “She’s trying at any rate. I don’t think she has all the gifts.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad.” As Emma passed over a manhole cover, she grimaced beneath the helmet. “What about Jim? Is he still alive?”

  “Yes and he still makes those nasty sculptures of you—both of you.”

  Emma stopped the bike in the middle of the road. “He knows about Louise? I thought he didn’t want to see her.”

  “He doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what she looks like.”

  Emma nodded again. Though Pepe would have to be long dead, there were still other rats who could take his place to spy on Emma and Louise. She put a hand to her chest and held back tears as she thought of how lonely it must be for Jim to know of Louise but to never actually see her or talk to her. What a terrible sacrifice he’d made; it was far more than she had given up.

  “Would he see me if I went down there?”

  “He wouldn’t talk to you in person. You’ve already tried. Several times.”

  “Oh.” She twisted the throttle on the bike to start it forward again. If she got back to her own time, maybe she could find a way to make things right with Jim, to make him understand she wanted him to be a part of her life—and Louise’s. She didn’t care if he continued to live in the sewers, that she could at least still hold him now and again would be enough for her.

  She pulled up near the house and checked to see if any lights were on. Louise should be home by now, unless she and Renee hadn’t really gone to Aggie’s house. “Is she in there?” Emma asked Marlin.

  “You know, I really wish you wouldn’t use me in your domestic squabbles,” he said. “I’ve done enough babysitting for you already.”

  “I just want to get inside without her seeing me in the armor.”

  He shook his head and then streaked off to the house. When he returned, he said, “No, she’s not there. Do you want me to find her? I should probably start in the entertainment district, don’t you think?”

  “No, that’s fine. I’ll talk to her later.” Emma pulled the bike into the garage and then trudged up to her room to change. She concealed the armor in her closet. Then she gratefully sank onto the bed to get some rest.

  Chapter 12

  The Glare waited for her in the kitchen the next morning. “What time did you get home last night?” Mom asked.

  “Three.”

  “Where were you?”

  “At a diner. All we drank was coffee, I swear.”

  “You kept a minor out until three in the morning? What did Aggie say?”

  “She’d gone to bed already.”

  “I’m very disappointed in you. You should know better than to stay out that late on a work night.”

  “I’m sorry,” Louise said and then sank onto her chair at the kitchen table, where Mom had already poured her a bowl of cereal and cut a grapefruit. Louise hated grapefruit, but she knew better than to mention this now. “We got talking and lost track of time. That’s all.”

  “You know better, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you did it anyway.”

  “I’m sorry,” Louise repeated.

  “I want you home by midnight from now on. Is that understood?”

  “You can’t give me a curfew. I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “As long as you’re living here you live by my rules.” Mom’s voice remained level through this entire exchange; The Glare never wavered. As she always did, Louise gave in.

  “I understand.” She cleared her throat and then added softly, “Renee’s thinking of moving back here. I thought maybe we could get a place of our own.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “What? Why not? You lived with Becky when you were my age.”

  “Becky was a year older than me.”

  “What about after Renee turns eighteen?”

  “Then I suppose no one can stop you.”

  “But you still won’t approve of it.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Mom’s face looked so tired Louise thought she might fall asleep in the chair. “I’m not sure either of you is ready for that much responsibility.”

  “Come on, Mom, I was living in a dorm when I was eleven.”

  The Glare faded as Mom smiled slightly. “I’ll talk to Aggie about it and see what she thinks. OK?”

  “Thanks.”

  They finished their breakfast and then headed to the museum. Louise made an unscheduled stop along the way at a Lebanese bakery to pick up some baklava. “It’s Dr. Dreyfus’s favorite,” she explained. “I thought it’d be a good way to apologize.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you.” When Mom raised her hand to pat Louise’s shoulder, Louise noticed a fresh bruise on Mom’s forearm.

  “Did you fall in the shower or something?”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Maybe you should see Dr. Pavelski again.”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  Louise thought to press the argument, but there was no way she could force her mother to go to the doctor, unless she tried to drug her and then drag her there. “You should really be more careful.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Once again that little suck-up Megan Putnam waited for them by the front doors with more things for Mom to sign. Louise tried a Glare of her own, but it didn’t work. “I’ll see you later,” Louise said. Mom nodded to her and then let Megan steer her towards the elevators.

  Louise knew it wasn’t right of her to dislike Megan Putnam. Megan was a perfectly nice girl; the problem was she was too nice. She was the kind of girl who never drank, never did drugs, never had sex, and basically never did anything but work. The worst part was the way Mom treated Megan as if she was a daughter too. Megan had come over to sit for Louise when she was little; that had ended after Louise threw a tantrum that prompted Megan to have a severe asthma attack. Though Megan’s asthma had been cured now, Mom had thought it better to keep them apart.

  She tried to push her irrational hatred of Megan aside as she stepped into the Egyptology offices. Dan was already at his desk to look over some lab reports. She held out the pink box of baklava to him. “I brought you a little treat,” she said.

  “Oh really? Any particular reason?”

  “Just to say I’m sorry for being such a screw up last night.”

  “It’s all right, Lou. I guess it’s stupid of me to keep thinking she’ll come back.”

  “You deserve a lot better than her anyway.” Dan didn’t have a Glare like Mom, but the look he gave Louise was close enough to indicate she’d put her foot in her mouth—again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Becky is a very special person. I’m sure she still loves you and your mom.”

  “And you.”

  “I hope so.�
� He leaned back in his chair to sigh. “Maybe I should go there and try to see her again. There’s a conference coming up in Washington. I could bring some of our findings with me to present—if your mom will let us.”

  Louise remembered Mom’s reaction to the book; she’d wanted Louise to put it back into the ground. Still, in the end Mom was always fair about things. “We’ll have to make sure there’s no reason she can turn us down.”

  They munched on the baklava while they went over the lab reports. The carbon dating indicated the statue of Isis was even older than they’d thought—approximately five thousand years old. “That’s impossible,” Louise said. “There’s no way they could have manufactured anything like this back then. It was practically still the Stone Age.”

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that you can’t rule anything out.” Dan smiled at her. “I think this will make a big splash at the conference.”

  “If Mom lets you use it. We should get a second test to make sure.”

  “You’re right. We don’t want to be too premature.”

  “Where’s the report on the book? I don’t see it.”

  Dan typed something into his computer and then frowned. “It says here that your mom checked the book out a few hours after you brought it in.”

  “What?” She looked on the screen to see that Mom’s name was recorded on the security log. “That bitch!”

  “Louise—”

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Louise stomped out of the office to go find her mother. She didn’t get far before she ran into an Arab woman about her age. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s quite all right,” the woman said in a quiet, unaccented voice. “Do you know where I can find Dr. Daniel Dreyfus?”

  “Yes, he’s right in that office there. Egyptology.” Louise held out her hand for the woman to shake. “I’m Dr. Louise Earl, his assistant. Is there something I can help you with?”