Ari transported him out of the tree, to meet with Del and Laronda.
"Come inside—there are more videos on those websites," Del said, "calling for all their lackwit minions to fight against the current plague of witches, gays, people of color, werewolves, uppity women politicians, or those who don't obey their husbands."
"You're joking," Ari's eyes widened.
"Nope. They took what the legislature denounced earlier, added to it and we now have a massive hit list. I'm not sure the FBI or Homeland Security have enough people to deal with this, should the shootings begin."
"What about the Rangers?" Mac asked.
"Their funding is under the control of the very people we listened to this morning," Del rumbled. "They're on alert anyway but so far, there are no specific threats."
"There will be," Mac shook his head. "We just don't know where, or how many will be affected. Look for the Adversary to ramp up his game, too, and blame the results on the very targets you just mentioned. Later, there will be torture and burning added to the mix; suspicion will run rampant, neighbors will accuse their neighbors; there's no stopping it. Pain, death, fear, hate, greed—those things feed the Adversary."
"But the law," Laronda began.
"I think you'll begin to see that the law works only as long as there are those willing to enforce or obey it," Mac said. "Even their religious laws tell them not to kill, but they find ways around that every time."
"This madness will spread, much like the disease which creates zombies," Nico walked out the back door to join the conversation. "Come inside and see; already there are those touting the cause—and a few who are calling it what it is—unfounded hate-mongering."
"We have decisions to make," Mac nodded deferentially to Nico.
"We should wait until Claudio wakes. Until then, we can gather names of those who have fallen and those who stand against. Some of those we must help."
"Will recordings of the hearings be released to the public?" Ari asked.
"They're supposed to be available," Del replied.
"The ones who saw our outlines atop the building in Austin—will they also see the serpent in the recordings?"
"I," Nico hesitated. "I don't know," he admitted.
"I'll arrange to get copies," Del turned and strode toward the back door.
"Let's take a look at the damage," Mac cupped Ari's elbow with a hand. "It won't be pretty, I warn you."
"There's the snake." Ari sat heavily on the sofa in the game room as Del played the recording of the hearings they'd attended in Austin.
"There's something else," Laronda announced after looking at her cell phone. "Somebody recorded the attack on Everette's club. It's now all over, including the mainstream news."
"Where were they?" Everette demanded, half-rising from her chair. She sat again after Renault's hand dropped on her shoulder.
"Across the street, apparently," Laronda watched the video on her phone. "All six shooters wore motorcycle helmets and black leathers, so we won't get much to identify them. All the tags on their bikes were covered, so there's nothing to go by on that front."
"I want my hands on the person who made the recording," Everette hissed. "He'll tell me who his friends are."
"What message came with the recording?" Renault asked quietly.
"That this is only the beginning," Laronda sighed and turned off her phone. "Everette, you may have a hard time finding anyone willing to put your club back together after this."
"This is so messed up," Everette mumbled.
"What the—is that a giant snake?" Janie walked in with Val.
"Are you kidding me? Is that thing seriously going from one Senator to another, and they don't even see it?" Val demanded.
"Ah. The answer to your question," Mac nodded at Nico. "Some will certainly see the snake."
"They honestly couldn't see the damn thing?" Val frowned at Mac.
"No. Had no idea it was winding its way around that table, touching this one or that. We should be thankful it didn't bite anyone—Nico believes that the bite will automatically claim the victim as the Adversary's property."
"It's not like they weren't for sale before," Janie snorted. "With a few exceptions, of course."
"I think we need to talk to her," Ari pointed at the Chair of the Committee.
"That's Esther Johnson," Val said. "She's our state senator. Mom and I have voted for her the last three elections."
"Why do you want to talk to her?" Janie asked.
"Del, can you reverse the recording? I think I saw something that will tell you why," Ari replied.
"Sure." Del hit the back button on the television remote.
"Stop there," Ari said. Del let the recording play again. "See. The snake passes her, and she pulls her notepad out of the way."
"That's nothing to base a meeting on," Mac began.
"Mac, it may be an unconscious thing on her part, but she deliberately pulled the notepad toward her," Nico looked up at Mac, who stood beside his chair. "I think we do need to talk to her and take a copy of this recording with us."
"You think being that close put her under the Adversary's influence, so she wouldn't physically see the snake?" Mac asked.
"Yeah, but there's one way to find out for sure. Do you know her at all? Will she agree to a meeting if you call?" Nico turned toward Val.
"We donate to her campaign," Janie said. "I think she'll make time for us."
"I'll go make the call," Val headed for the door and the stairs beyond. "I'll let you know if we can get a meeting."
"I want her notepad. She was scribbling on it the whole damn time, and I want to know what she wrote," Darnell told Niall Pratt, Esther Johnson's personal assistant. He pushed an envelope across his desk toward Niall. "I also want to know if she does anything out of the ordinary or sees anyone not on her schedule."
Niall didn't fail to notice that the envelope was quite thick. "I can take photographs of the notes and send them to you. That way she'll never suspect. And, I can send a text or email if she goes off the reservation," Niall responded before reaching for the cash Darnell offered.
"Good enough. Make sure the notes are clear enough to read," Darnell growled as Niall lifted the envelope and stuffed it into the breast pocket of his suit coat. "Send me texts about the rest—on a burner phone."
"No problem," Niall agreed. "You should have the notes by tonight."
"Good. Now get out of here and make sure nobody sees you."
"I will."
Darnell watched as Niall opened the door carefully and peered about before stepping through and shutting it behind him.
"One more thing off my to-do list," Darnell mumbled as he pulled the bottle of bourbon from a bottom desk drawer. Already, many of his colleagues were testing the waters in their districts, looking for constituents who backed their new agendas.
Agendas which fit perfectly with Darnell's views—and those of the Reverend and Belhar.
"Belhar," Darnell spoke to empty air as he poured bourbon in a glass.
"I am here, Senator," Belhar appeared before Darnell's desk.
"Want a drink?" Darnell asked. "Things are going very well. I'm celebrating. Would you like to join me?"
"No, thank you," Belhar waved away the offer. "I do have news, though. Our newest troops may be ready sooner than anticipated."
"Any suggestions for our next target?"
"Many, so we must ponder this with care, you understand. Also, there is the business of taking over the state government, leaving you in charge."
"What about the current governor?"
"While he might be amenable to our plans, he is not you, you understand. You are the best candidate for that job, and you know it."
"Can we get him to step down?"
"That will leave his Lieutenant Governor in charge. No, that will not be the plan."
"What is the plan?"
"Ah, you know how accidents, unfortunate though they may be, often happen?"
"We
ll, then," Darnell leaned back in his chair with a creak of leather. "I never really liked either of them anyway. Any chance of including that bitch Esther Johnson in the accident?"
"We can certainly put that on the table," Belhar replied.
Lifting his glass of expensive bourbon, Darnell tossed back the shot and grinned at Belhar.
Big John sat in his repair shop office, a corner carved out of the massive, six-bay garage that not only serviced legitimate customers, but even more that weren't legitimate.
His office was a ten-by-ten square with a half wall on two sides topped by dirty glass. The whole space was cramped and cluttered with files, boxes, parts to be shipped and a ledger filled with false records. The whole thing smelled of grease and oil, but Big John was so used to the smell he no longer noticed.
"Paperwork, boss," Big John's right hand man dropped a manila envelope on the desk.
Roger Little never used his proper name; everybody called him Shank. The source of the nickname was a two-year stint in jail, but Big John never brought that up. It wasn't paperwork in the envelope, either, but payment for illegal sales of parts and entire vehicles.
"You see the video on the news from the hearings at the state house?" Shank made conversation. Big John hoped he'd go away—the envelope would be better off in his floor safe instead of lying atop his desk.
"What video?"
"Looks like the legislators are getting on board with those witch killings, plus the attack on that queer bar. They got a bunch of people on their list, and it could be open season," Shank cracked his knuckles. "I don't know whether them werewolves are real, but if they are, I sure would like to bag one of 'em."
"Don't let anybody see you with a weapon, or you'll be right back in gen pop," Big John snapped, disliking the turn of Shank's conversation.
"I ain't that stupid," Shank denied.
Except that you are, Big John frowned. "Don't you have work to do?"
"Yeah. I'll get right on it, boss. I'm tellin' ya, though, we oughta go out hunting witches and werewolves," Shank pointed a finger at Big John as he walked out of the office.
"Not bloody likely," Big John muttered as he lifted the envelope off the desk and rolled his chair aside to get to the floor safe. "A werewolf will hear and smell you coming from a mile away. You harm one of them, you won't be ready for the hurt leveled in your direction."
Nevertheless, the moment the envelope was safely locked away, Big John turned on the small television sitting on one of his file cabinets. "May as well see what the hell he's going on about."
After flipping through several twenty-four-hour news programs, he found what he sought, then gasped at what he saw. "What the fuck, man? Where the hell did that snake come from?"
A knot of terror made itself at home at the base of his spine. He knew where that snake came from.
In fact, he knew a lot more about it than he wanted to know. "Don't pay it any mind—you'll be sharing a cell with Shank if you come forward," he reminded himself grimly. "Keep it to yourself, Big John. Keep it all to yourself."
"We need your help, Billy Ray. Your cousin, Bobby Ray's gone; it's time you joined us and took your revenge," Killebrew hissed into his phone.
"I just took another job," Billy Ray informed the Reverend. "I sent you a copy of the attack on that bar, like you asked. This new job is an emergency situation that pays a lot. Let me finish that up and I'll head your way."
"When?" Killebrew demanded.
"Right after I find some help to get the job done. Tell me where you are and I'll let you know when I'm on the way."
"Look," Killebrew hissed, "Come to that service station that's in between Malarkie and Boran. Call me from there and I'll give you directions to the place. The pay is the best you'll ever get, so don't take too long, got it? Bring that video camera with you. You're gonna need it."
"Maybe I can be there tomorrow," Billy Ray said. "If the money's as good as you say it is."
"Bobby Ray was happy enough," Killebrew snapped. "Get your ass in gear and get that job done. I'll be expecting your call tomorrow."
"I can get the job done tonight," Billy Ray told his latest employer.
"Good. The sooner, the better. No sense in dragging this out. There's extra money in it, too, if it's completely destroyed."
"I think I can make that happen. I just need to pick up a few things, first."
"Whatever it takes," his employer laughed.
"We have a meeting with Senator Johnson set up on Thursday afternoon," Val told Mac. "It's the soonest she could fit us into her schedule, after moving other appointments around, you understand. The meeting is at her office in Austin; she has other appointments scheduled right after we see her."
"We'll take what we can get; Nico is really worried, as is Ari. We also need to know if she's sensitive to the serpent's and the Adversary's presence. If so, then she definitely needs protection."
"What does it mean if she's sensitive?" Val was curious.
"She may feel the need to protect herself, but she can't point to anybody and say for sure that they're the Adversary—or his pet serpent. She can't see them for what they are; she'll just feel uneasy. If they notice, she's a big target."
"Then let's hope she can see the snake in the recording. If not, how the hell will we convince her she's in danger?"
"Let's hope she sees what we saw, then."
"Claudio and Alejandro are on a conference call," Renault came to find Mac, who sat on a barstool in Val's bar downstairs, having a glass of Scotch. "That means I will be watching the perimeter tonight. Would you like to come with me?"
"Yeah," Mac emptied his glass before sliding off the barstool. "The raven needs some exercise, and since we can still communicate while I'm shifted, I'll ride along on your shoulder if I'm not flying."
"Good. Ari just informed me that she is feeling pain between her shoulders—a sign that something is not right. It never hurts to have another set of eyes when one is searching for the unknown. She also says that she will arrive quickly if we need help."
"I'm surprised she didn't offer to come along."
"She, Nico and Hunter are still searching through voting records for the current state government. They are making lists of who may or may not be among the Adversary's chosen, or those amenable to his machinations."
"The Adversary always seeks to control the seats of power," Mac said. "Once those are under his sway, the persecutions and executions begin. I'll shift to the raven outside, and we'll guard the perimeter together."
"The door's unlocked and the alarm is off. I've done my part, now it's time to do yours," Billy Ray glared at the two he'd hired to finish the job. "You've been paid; get going."
"We'll have it done before ya know it," the taller one spat tobacco to the side before grinning at Billy Ray. The shorter, younger one, standing slightly apart from his partner, was either bored or vacant—Billy Ray couldn't decide which.
Turning his eyes back to the taller man, Billy Ray refused to gaze too long at his tobacco-stained teeth. "Don't forget to shut your lights off driving in," he snapped. "Don't need the neighbors callin' the cops, now do we?"
"Nope." The tall one spat again to emphasize his answer.
Billy Ray watched both climb into the old pickup they'd driven to the meeting; if they had any sense, they'd buy a new vehicle. Except after tonight, they might not need one.
Billy Ray snorted a laugh before climbing into his car—he'd rebuilt it himself. Even its last owner wouldn't recognize it, now. All it needed was a new paint job and he could sell the old '57 Ford Fairlane as a classic.
"You okay back there?" In the dim interior light of the car, he cast a quick look at his pet rattlesnake, Edgar, who lay curled in his fish tank-turned-reptile habitat.
Billy Ray had packed light; a bottle of whiskey, a pistol, video camera, the cannister of powdered uranium he'd bought off a sketchy dealer online, Edgar, and an old duffle filled with jeans and T-shirts. The only thing his employer asked him
to carry away was in the trunk of the car. "I got all we need, Edgar," Billy Ray declared as he started the car and put it in gear to drive away.
Wind is from the south tonight, Mac alighted on Renault's shoulder and fluffed his feathers. Brisk, too.
Yet the heat still clings to the land, Renault agreed. I miss the sea on nights like this.
I don't miss the Costa de la Muerte, Mac said. The pull of the gate is strong.
How did you arrive here—you were forced to come in raven shape, no?
Tanker, Mac explained. I became a mascot of sorts. I followed the stone's pull, only to find that the one the stone chose had given it away. That has never happened before.
Perhaps she knew something we do not.
I think she did. Nico is young, extremely powerful and resilient. Arianne is the strongest defender a Custodian has ever selected. When you and Everette came to bear the shell imprint, it gave me hope against terrible odds. Perhaps all these things will create difficulties for the Adversary in the long term.
I believe others will bear the imprint, too, Renault said. This is how we will know our allies. Unfortunately, this very imprint that Everette and I bear is exactly why Alejandro and Claudio are having a conference with other scholars. They wish to know everything about how this occurred—along with the miracle of our walking in daylight.
I'm worried about that, actually. Do you believe they will turn on you—or demand that Ari or Nico do the same for them?
I do not know. I hope they see the wisdom in holding back; if they are chosen, then they will also bear the imprint. If not, this is not the time to have a falling out, one against the other.
Why didn't they want to speak with you, Renault? This worries me.
As it troubles me. Wait—did you catch that scent?
My scenting ability, man and bird, is far less than yours will ever be. I didn't smell anything.
It smells like, Renault began to run swiftly westward, toward the fence separating the Franks property from the Jordan Ranch.
Raven, Red Page 28
