Of Enemies and Allies
by Anne M. Jensen (ajensen@west.net)
Disclaimer: The characters, with a few exceptions (such as the
terrorists and Arthur's knights, which are products of my own
fiendish brain and traditional literature) are the property of Disney. I
have borrowed them, without permission, for a brief time and return
them none the worse for wear, with my profound thanks.
I want to send my thanks out to Jonna for her encouragement, and
Allison for giving me advice on posting this.
Note: This story takes place four years after the events in Hunter's
Moon. I figure that a lot of the inconsistencies about who knows
what about whom have been cleared up by then. In addition, a
number of significant events have occurred between the time of
Hunter's Moon and my story. I'd love to hear what you think of
this story, so please send me your comments.
Elisa Maza sighed and shifted. Normally she hated these
sorts of gatherings. It wasn't that she felt intimidated by the high
society there--after arresting Xanatos, waking King Arthur, meeting
Lord Oberon and Lady Titania, and battling gods (even if one of
them happened to be her temporarily transformed best friend),
normal "upper crust" types would have ceased to awe her, if she
hadn't had all of that nonsense knocked out of her before she made
detective. No, it wasn't the people. Nor was it the events
themselves--the Police Officers Charity Luncheon was definitely a
cause she could support, personally. No, it was the fact that while
she was sitting here chatting with people and socializing, it was
taking her away from the streets where her real work was. If she
and Matt hadn't just made a splash in the news media by putting
away a major dockside smuggling operation, and if half the force,
including Captain Chavez, weren't out sick with the flu, she and
Matt wouldn't even be here this afternoon.
That was what she had used to think about these sorts of
gatherings, anyway. She'd never think that way again, she reflected,
staring at the muzzle of the gun pointed at her when she'd moved.
She froze. No, thinking the streets were the only place where she
could make a difference was not a mistake she'd make again.
Charity events could be just as dangerous as the streets. Particularly
when terrorists decided to crash them, and take the guests hostage.
Matt groaned next to her and she glanced down at him. The
bleeding from the bullet wound in his shoulder had mostly stopped.
It was a miracle that it hadn't hit anything vital, but it still might kill
him if he didn't get medical help soon. "Stay with me, Bluestone,"
she muttered. "We've been through worse than this."
"You're one to talk, Maza." Matt's voice was hoarse.
"Hey, when I got shot, I was a lot worse off, so don't
complain." She didn't feel much like joking, especially not about
that, but if it helped keep Matt going, it was worth it.
"Oh yeah, Broadway shot you accidentally. I got shot by
terrorists."
"I've been shot at by terrorists-" she started to say, when
one of the current terrorists growled, "Shut up," and waved his gun
menacingly.
Elisa pressed her lips together and glanced at Matt, rolling
her eyes. He nodded his head slightly, understanding exactly what
she was feeling. It was frustrating when it was your job to stop
these people, and there was nothing you could do, but that was
something you learned to live with if you were a cop.
She went back to staring out the window. In another half-
hour or so, it would be sunset, and then, assuming the gang found
out, it would be all over. The problem was there wasn't anyone to
tell them. She and Matt were both here, sitting in the little group of
people set apart from the rest of the hostages, because they'd tried to
fight off the terrorists when they'd shown up. King Arthur was on
Matt's other side, nursing a bruise to the jaw from where one of the
terrorists had hit him. A little bit further was Macbeth, in somewhat
better condition, but just as furious. On his other side were
Xanatos--who still looked the worse for wear after he'd been
knocked out for an hour or so, and Fox. They both had slightly
narrowed eyes when they gazed at their captors. And, speaking of
terrorists, on Elisa's own left, sitting slightly farther away, and
wearing a look of absolute hatred, was Demona herself. Which left
only Owen, she supposed. But unless Owen knew they had stayed
at Arthur's castle just outside the city last night, and found a way to
reach them before they left on patrol, the gargoyles might not find
out for hours yet, and anything could happen between now and then.
Someone might actually get killed.
Then too, there was the more immediate problem. Even if
the gargoyles found out right away, it would still take a little time to
get here. Demona would change shape at sunset though, just as
they were breaking out of their stone skins. And while Elisa was
certain that one incredibly angry immortal gargoyle could do quite a
lot of damage, especially when she had just caused a distraction by
turning into said gargoyle, one gargoyle (and six humans) against
40 or so terrorists with guns was a bit much. After all, seven
humans against those same terrorists had failed. The terrorists
would probably start shooting hostages--not that Demona would
mind much, but Elisa had a bit more concern for her fellow
humans. Seven defenders were all they currently had--the prices for
lunch had been a bit too steep for ordinary police officers to attend,
and most society types just weren't fighters--and unless a miracle
occurred, seven was all they *would* have when Demona changed
and went for their throats.
Moreover, Demona had been very careful so far never to let
those who knew her in her human form see her after sundown.
Turning into a gargoyle in front of half of the important personages
of the city would pretty much destroy her human cover. Elisa was
sure that even Demona didn't want that.
Elisa didn't even know what "Dominique Destine" was
doing here anyway. It wasn't as if Demona particularly cared about
police officers. In fact, Elisa was more inclined to think Demona
wanted to wipe all cops (and one cop in particular) off the face of the
earth. But whatever Demona's reasons, she was here now, and
Elisa had to deal with the problem.
She even had an idea of how she could solve both of her
problems. But she couldn't do it alone. It was going to take all of
them, working together, even though she wasn't sure if she could
trust some of those she'd be relying on. She'd better put her plan in
motion soon, however. She didn't have a lot of time before the sun
went down.
She turned to look at Fox, who raised a questioning eyebrow
in response. Elisa glanced at Demona once and then out the
window. Fox inclined her head in comprehension, and then Elisa
significantly lowered her gaze down at Matt, and glanced again at
Demona and herself. Fox nodded again slightly and lowered her
own head to Xanatos. Elisa glanced over at Macbeth and Arthur to
let them know too, but they'd caught her exchange with Fox. That
left only Demona and Matt.
Demona was still fuming at the guards, oblivious to all else,
the hatred rolling from her in palpable waves. It figured. Elisa was
trying to figure out a way to get her out of here, and all Demona was
concentrating on was her hate. Not that Elisa really could blame her
right now, though. She was rather strongly inclined to hate these
people herself, but at the moment she had more important things to
do. Like finding a way to let Demona know about the plan. But
how to draw Demona's attention without attracting that of the
guards? Thankfully, Macbeth provided the answer. Demona sat up
with a start, shaking her hand in pain and transferring her glare to
him. Elisa repressed a smile. There were times when the Weird
Sisters' spell gave Demona and Macbeth a distinct advantage. She
let Macbeth pass along the message, not wanting to draw any more
attention to herself. While exchanging glances wasn't quite as
conspicuous as, say, talking, it was conspicuous enough, and she
really didn't want to arouse any more suspicions than she already
had.
She lowered her eyes to Matt again, to think of a way to tell
him about her plan, and found him with an expectant look on his
face. Evidently he, too, had followed her exchanges. He winked.
Elisa winked back in response. Of all of the partners she might
have had, she'd really lucked out. No questions to be asked or
answered. They thought along the same lines, which really came in
handy in situations like this.
*Play dead,* she mouthed at him. He grinned slightly,
knowing exactly where this was going, and then let his face relax.
"Matt?" she asked, letting her voice scale up on the end
with worry.
"So tiredÉ" Matt let his voice trail off, drawing a raspy
breath.
"No, Matt, don't you die on me." Elisa started shouting:
"Do you hear me, Bluestone? Hold on!"
"SorryÉElisaÉ" His eyes fluttered shut, and he let his
head loll.
"Come on Matt! Hold on! Matt!" Her breath caught in
sobs, and she raised a hand to her eyes. It was far too easy to play
this role. She was really afraid for him. If this didn't work, he
probably would die.
Fox took her cue. "He's dead, David!" She sounded on the
verge of hysteria. Leave it to Fox, former TV star, to feign it so
well. "And what's to stop them from doing the same thing to us?
We're all going to die! We're all going to die!" Xanatos started to
mutter some words of comfort but Fox was really getting into her
part now. "No! Don't lie to me!" she shrieked, "They're going to
kill us!"
Elisa had bent her head, ostensibly in grief, but in reality she
was tensed up, waiting for her chance. Demona had placed a hand
on her shoulder, and from that touch, she could feel Demona tensed
up as well. Fox's performance escalated. It wouldn't be long, now.
Fox rose to her feet and started screaming, "They're going
to kill us!" By now she was attracting a lot of attention, quite a bit
of it from the other guests/hostages, who were looking nervous.
They might have a real riot on their hands if Fox worked them up
enough.
The terrorists realized it too, and started gesturing with their
guns. The leader said to Xanatos, "Shut her up!"
"I'm trying," he said, spreading his hands helplessly. He
and Fox were a perfect pair, those two.
"If you can't, then *I* will." The leader caught Fox's arm,
and pulled back his hand to slap her, but Xanatos' fist caught him
first.
"*Don't* touch my wife!" Xanatos said in a cold tone.
Pandemonium broke out. Macbeth and King Arthur leapt to
their feet and began throwing punches at the guards. Fox's scream
of fear turned into a karate yell, and she turned, protecting Xanatos'
back, and getting in a few good blows of her own, even hampered
by her dress. Matt opened his eyes and stuck his foot out, tripping
one of the terrorists running over to help. Other hostages were
screaming now, and the whole situation was starting to turn ugly.
Elisa didn't stick around to see the chaos she had caused,
though. Her path to the door was relatively clear, and she grabbed
Demona's arm and went for it. A few of the terrorists saw them
and tried to stop them, but she and Demona made short work of
them, and took off down the hallway, running as quickly as they
could for the stairs.
What was the world coming to, when she was finding
herself allied with Xanatos and Fox in trying to protect Demona?
And wasn't it strange how well they worked together? All of the
fights and challenges between them had given them insight into how
the others' brains worked. A lot like her and Matt. It was almost
uncanny. They'd fought each other for too long.
Two flights of stairs down, she and Demona paused to catch
their breath. "Why are you doing this, human?" Demona panted,
somehow managing to still sound suspicious, even when gasping.
Elisa wished she had an easy answer for that question. The
best she could come up with on short notice, though, was, "I didn't
think we wanted you turning into a gargoyle in front of terrorists
and the upper crust of New York." She gestured towards the stairs,
"You *have* to get out of here. I think there's a viewing deck on
this floor. They won't have left the doors unguarded downstairs,
but in a few minutes you should be able to take off from there--it's
high enough."
Demona nodded, eyes still narrowed suspiciously.
Elisa continued. "I'd be obliged if you found some way of
telling the guys about this, but I'm not expecting it. Now, go!" She
took off down the stairs, making as much noise as she could, and
hoping the reverse psychology worked. Demona, on the other
hand, slipped through the door quietly. Two floors above them the
door to the stairs crashed open. The chase was on.
It didn't last very long. Less than five minutes later, two
terrorists were marching her back up the stairs, guns pointed at her.
That wasn't important, though. All she had to do was buy Demona
enough time to get out of there. They hadn't found her yet, Elisa
was certain of it. Why else were the remainder of the terrorists
who'd chased them down the stairs still looking around on the
floors for Demona? And Demona was an old hand at these sorts
of things. She'd been doing it for centuries. Given a lead, Demona
would take it. Elisa just hoped it was enough of a lead. It had been
the best she could manage under the circumstances.
And in her present attire, she thought, glancing down at her
dress, which had ripped along one of the seams when it had caught
on something as she was running. It figured, though, that the one
time she wore something she couldn't really fight in, she'd go up
against terrorists. It also figured that the one time she wore one of
the few outfits she owned other than jeans and tee-shirts--one of the
few *nicer* outfits she owned--it would get destroyed. She seemed
to have incredibly bad luck with nice clothes. With the exception of
the dresses she wore for the handful of "court" (as in royal, not
judicial) activities she'd attended, she never seemed to wear them
without *something* going wrong.
Back in the room where it had all started, things had calmed
down somewhat. Matt was propped against a wall, still very much
in the land of the living, thankfully. Xanatos was sporting another
bruise, and what would probably become a black eye in a few
hours. Fox's face showed a mixture of concern for her husband
and fury at their captors. Arthur was holding a hand to his ribs.
Macbeth, however, was lying on the floor, unconscious or worse.
Elisa stared at him a moment, confused, before realizing what must
have happened. She hoped that the bullet had killed him quickly,
although how they were going to explain his apparent resurrection,
she had no idea. This changed everything, though. If Macbeth had
"died" then Demona must be "dead" too, which meant she wasn't
currently capable of hiding from any nearing terrorists...
Macbeth groaned and rose slowly to his feet, and Elisa had
to reassess her opinion. The terrorists didn't seem at all surprised
that he was waking up, which meant that Demona--
"Fell," Macbeth announced, apparently to no one in
particular and rubbed his neck.
Arthur nodded in comprehension. "Ah."
"Shut up!" the head terrorist said, waving his gun in their
direction. He turned his attention to Elisa and said coldly, "Well,
Detective, that didn't go very well, did it? Now, perhaps you'll tell
me where Ms. Destine is?"
"I have no idea," Elisa said truthfully, returning his cold
stare.
Demona raised her head, and blinked at her surroundings,
trying to reorient herself. The terrorists at the luncheon... running
down the stairs to escape them... going to the balcony to wait for
sunset... But then the terrorists had searched the floor for her, and
were about to find her, so she'd climbed over the edge of the
balcony to escape, and then had slipped and fallen. She groaned and
sat up. This was the very first time she had fallen from such a
height in her life. The feeling of terror at the sight of the ground
coming up and not being able to spread her wings to catch herself
was one she'd not soon forget, no matter how hard she tried. The
memory of hitting the ground at full speed would probably last even
longer. She spent a moment cursing the humans responsible for
making her fall when she was in her human form. They'd pay for
that. But at least she was away from there. As she put one hand to
rub her head, she noted the five fingers and groaned again.
Evidently she was *still* in her human form. But soon, very soon,
she'd change, and then she'd see that the humans got what was
coming to them.
"Ma'am?" A police officer was looking down at her in
disbelief. "You shouldn't move until we have an ambulance here."
That was *all* she needed. "I'm fine," she said evenly.
"After a fall like that ma'am, you're lucky to be alive. You
really should wait until we have the ambulance here to check you
out."
Demona started to growl, her hands clenching into fists,
when a new voice intruded.
"Officer Morgan, under the circumstances, perhaps it would
be better if we didn't wait for the ambulance?" Owen Burnett said in
his calm voice. Burnett? Why was *he* here? Of course. Xanatos
was inside the building. She cursed Burnett too. It was all his fault
she didn't have her wings.
"Mr. Burnett, with most of the force out sick, we don't have
enough people here as it is. We can't send someone off to the
hospital with her. Besides, she shouldn't be moved until a medical
team has looked at her."
"I have a bit of first aid experience, and the limousine could
take Mademoiselle. Destine to the hospital in less time than it would
take an ambulance to get here."
Officer Morgan blinked. "Ms. Destine? As in Dominique
Destine? One of the hostages from inside?"
"Yes," Demona said between clenched teeth.
"Whoa boy. We'll need you to answer some questions
about the terrorists, Ms Destine. If you're really all right..."
"Mademoiselle Destine has just fallen off of a building. I
don't believe she is in any condition to answer questions at the
moment," Owen interjected. "As I said, I will be more than happy
to see to it that she receives the proper medical attention, with the
approval of your superiors, of course."
Sighing, Officer Morgan nodded. "We'd better make sure
we can move her first. In the meantime, ma'am, if you could
answer a *few* questions..."
Elisa hit the wall with a thud and slid down, lying there
stunned. How many times had she been thrown against the wall
through the years? For some reason she could only think of one:
the time Macbeth and Demona had stolen Coldstone, and she knew
there were more than that. When she didn't get up immediately, the
leader of the terrorists shook her. "I'll ask you again. Where is
Dominique Destine?"
Elisa blinked and reached up to blot at the blood on her lip.
"Look, I've told you. I don't know."
He raised his hand as if to hit her again, and she braced
herself, but the blow didn't fall.
At that moment a few more of the terrorists walked in. "We
couldn't find her, sir."
"You looked everywhere?" The leader scowled.
"She must have escaped the building somehow."
The leader's eyes narrowed in fury and he turned his scowl
back towards Elisa, "Perhaps you don't," he said. "You helped her
escape, which means that you've denied me of a rather large sum of
money which she might have paid in ransom. I can't let that happen
again, so I'll have to make an example of you."
"What are you going to do?" one of the terrorists asked--
Mantis, she'd heard others call him.
"Dominique Destine was valuable--she was rich. This cop,
on the other hand, is of no use to us whatever, living or dead."
"You're going to kill her?" the terrorist exclaimed to his
leader.
"If I don't make an example of her, the others will get ideas
about escaping too, and then we will have no money for the cause."
And if you believe that the money will go to the cause, then
a friend of mine has a bridge to sell you, Elisa thought. She had no
idea what the cause was, or even who the terrorists were, but she
was fairly certain that the only "cause" the leader was concerned
with was his own bank account. Mantis, however, seemed not to
realize this. Reluctantly, he backed down, "I suppose so."
The leader pulled up his gun and aimed it at her. Elisa
braced herself again, one hand held lightly over her heart--for all of
the good it would do. She hoped Demona came through. If she
died, she didn't want her death to have been in vain.
She held herself steady, staring down the business end of the
gun back at him. Suddenly he pulled it back up. Matt, off to the
side, relaxed.
"Why waste a bullet?" The leader of the terrorists asked.
"Mr. Macduff had the right idea--a fall would be just as fatal."
"What?" Matt exclaimed.
"Your friend here, is about to have a nasty fall, which ought
to show you all that I mean business."
"No! You can't!" Matt protested weakly.
"Keep it up, cop, and you'll join her. The only reason you
aren't now is that you aren't currently in any condition to be a threat.
All of you, come," he added, gesturing with his gun. "We'll be
taking a little trip up to the roof."
Elisa didn't need to glance out the window to know that the
sun was still hovering over the horizon. Falling off a building. It
was appropriate, somehow. If it hadn't been for Goliath catching
her, she would have died falling off a building long ago. Of course,
if it hadn't been for Goliath, she probably wouldn't have developed
a habit of falling off of buildings in the first place...
On the other hand, she had a far better chance of surviving a
long fall than being shot point blank. Particularly if she could stall
long enough for the sun to go down. She raised her chin. Even if
she didn't survive this, she wasn't going to let herself show fear.
"You'll regret this," she told him.
"I don't think so. Now let's go."
She shot him a look of pure anger, and leaned down to help
Matt to his feet. "Come on, Matt, you heard him. Let's go."
The leader and four other terrorists herded the six of them
into the elevator, for which Elisa was grateful. Matt was trying to
walk, but he simply couldn't carry his own weight, and he wasn't
exactly light. As she stepped into the elevator, she looked back over
her shoulder at the other hostages, still sitting there, not quite
shaking in fear. She had to do what she could to save them, no
matter what the personal cost to herself--that was her job, after all.
She turned back to the elevator, "Come on, partner," she put Matt's
arm around her shoulder. "It's not that far."
"Here, allow me." Arthur said, coming up on Matt's other
side.
"Thanks, your majesty." Elisa relaxed as Arthur took half
of Matt's weight. Besides, someone was going to have to help Matt
on the way back. Whether she survived or not, she wouldn't be
coming back down this way. She caught herself about to shiver,
and pulled herself together. She would NOT give them the
satisfaction of seeing her fear.
"So, Detective," Xanatos said casually, as if they were back
at an uninterrupted luncheon, rather then facing her execution, "how
are Talon and Maggie doing these days?"
Elisa didn't ask how he'd known, although she was sure
that Goliath and the others hadn't mentioned it to him. It seemed
like there were very few secrets in this city which Xanatos hadn't
heard. "Fine."
"I assume your brother is looking forward to fatherhood?"
"He's a little nervous about the idea."
"I sympathize with him." He shared a smile with Fox.
"When is Maggie due, anyway?"
"We're not entirely sure." Her brother and sister-in-law and
their soon-to-be-born child was not something Elisa particularly
wanted to discuss with Xanatos of all people, but it kept her mind
off of the roof and the sun, and long drops. "It's hard to tell." And
that was all Xanatos' fault, anyway--Neither Derek nor Maggie was
what you could call human anymore, so it was difficult to say how
quickly the baby would develop, or even what it would look like
when born.
"I'd be more than happy to have one of my doctors take a
look at Maggie and see how she and the baby are doing."
"Thanks, but no thanks, Xanatos. I don't think that Derek
or Maggie would let themselves or their child anywhere near one of
your doctors."
"I, of all people, would be the last one to try and take a child
away from his parents." Xanatos commented, very seriously. "But,
you do know, Detective, that technically they shouldn't be able to
have children, and that their--um--species isn't really viable. I didn't
account for this, so even I don't know what will happen, and I'd
hate for there to be any complications for mother and child."
"We do have a few people keeping an eye on Maggie and
the baby." Beth, working on her medical degree, and Dr. Sato,
whom they'd let in on the secret, were both watching Maggie very
closely. Elisa's mother, delighted at the prospect of being a
grandmother, even if they weren't certain exactly what she was
going to be grandmother to, had been taking midwifery courses.
Even Angela was taking an interest. Elisa had a brief vision of
Angela becoming the world's first gargoyle doctor, although where
would she go to Med. school? Maybe she could go off to Ishimura,
or perhaps Reynard, or Arthur, or even Xanatos or Demona, would
offer to have her tutored privately. In spite of everything, Elisa
smiled a little at the thought of Angela as a doctor--she could see it
now: a receptionist saying, "I'm sorry, but the doctor is stone right
now. You'll have to come back tonight."
"If you need any help," Xanatos was saying, "please feel
free to call on me. I do feel responsible for this."
Elisa frowned, and winced when her split lip protested.
"That's what you said before. Why should we believe you now?"
"Because I mean it, this time."
The elevator doors opened, and the leader of the terrorists
stepped out, gesturing them with his gun--which Elisa was starting
to find irritating. "This is all very sweet, but: top floor, everyone
out."
They were all silent as they climbed the staircase to the roof.
Not that Elisa had breath to talk what with helping Matt. She
allowed herself to lag behind, trying to buy time for herself. If she
could only stall them until sunset...
When they opened the door to the roof, the first thing she
noticed was the tiny rim of the sun just peeking over the horizon.
Sunset wasn't far away now.
"Detective, I believe this is your 'drop zone'." the terrorist
said, with an attempt at humor. No one laughed.
With a sigh, Elisa let Arthur take Matt and took off her red
dress jacket--no point in destroying it as well--and her shoes. When
the Xanatoses gave her a strange look, she answered, "I don't want
them hitting anyone when they fall off."
"Ready yet, Detective?" the terrorist asked in a dry tone.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No. Climb up on this wall. Oh, and if you try anything,
I'll shoot your friends first and then you."
Elisa stepped up to the wall designed to keep people from
falling off the building. It was windy, she noticed absently. But
then, it was always windy up this high, which made it perfect for the
guys. A tiny bit of sun was still hovering over the edge of the
horizon. But the sight of the sun was being obscured by a quickly
moving fogbank, one moving far more quickly than was natural.
"Fog's coming in," she commented, turning slightly to
Xanatos and Fox. "It's coming in fast."
Xanatos and Fox exchanged a proud glance.
Elisa stared at the fogbank critically as she balanced on the
edge of the wall. The fog paused a moment in coming between the
buildings, swooped around to surround the building they were on,
and then flattened itself so that only the top few floors of the
building were left clear. Meaning that the police below wouldn't be
able to see what was going on at the top of the building. Clever.
It also meant that there wasn't going to be a net at the bottom
of this building, though.
"Any last words, Detective?" the terrorist asked, prodding
her slightly with his gun.
Elisa's mouth had gone dry. She swallowed once and said,
"If I d--if I don't make it, tell them it wasn't their fault, that it goes
with the job." She paused, but she had to trust her companions with
it. "And tell him--tell him I know."
Matt bowed his head slightly when he heard her say that.
Xanatos answered for all of them, "We will." Matt saw Elisa nod
slightly. She wasn't looking at them, now, just staring off into the
city one last time.
"Oh how very touching," the terrorist said.
Suddenly, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
The terrorist reached back his hand to push her off. Matt screamed,
"Elisa!" Elisa turned her head towards him, and Matt thought he
caught a glimpse of red glowing eyes before the terrorist's hand
connected and she fell, jumping out just like the guys did when they
were taking off. But the guys were still sleeping. And this time
there was no one to catch her.
"Elisa," he said softly in horror, staring at the place where
she'd been.
Stingray, the terrorist leader, stared out over the edge of the
roof. Maza straightened out in the air, screamed, clenching her fists,
and then seemed to stiffen, her scream echoing off the nearby
buildings as she fell into the fogbank. Satisfied that she wouldn't
find anything to grab onto, he turned back to his other prisoners,
"Well, that takes care of that."
The other hostages weren't even looking at him. With the
exception of Bluestone, who had his head bowed and was probably
crying, they were all staring at something in the distance. He turned
to see what they were staring at. The sunset, he realized, disgusted.
Instead of showing fear that he might do the same to them, they
were all staring at the sunset. He glared at them, not that they
noticed. "Come on," he said, "this time I'll make certain you can't
try to escape again."
As the last ray of sun disappeared over the horizon, Lennox
Macduff curled over in pain and let out a howl, clenching his hands
into fists. Strangely, the others' faces displayed only simple
curiosity. Was Macduff going into some kind of spasm? Stingray
hoped not. This incident was already causing him enough
problems. Rich people were supposed to be scared, and be happy to
give money to protect their lives, not fight. And money was
everything. Mantis, with his inheritance, could worry about causes.
Since Mantis' inheritance was paying for the guns, Stingray wasn't
going to complain too much. For the moment. At least the amount
of money he was demanding would more than compensate him for
the trouble he was going through. There might even be enough left
over for him to give some to "the cause". Stingray smiled nastily.
But he doubted it.
Whatever was wrong with Macduff, it didn't last very long.
In a few moments, he straightened up again. And for some reason,
the others didn't find this surprising, either.
"I'd be obliged if ye'd have a word with your butler about
that," Macduff said, as if this happened all the time, and was only a
minor annoyance.
Xanatos shrugged. "I can mention it, but I don't think it'll
help. Owen can't do that sort of thing, anymore."
Macduff sighed.
"How long?" Arthur Pendragon asked.
"I counted thirty-seven seconds," Mrs. Xanatos said calmly.
"It could mean anything."
Pendragon sighed.
Stingray was furious. He'd just pushed a woman to her
death, and they weren't even fazed by it. "I don't believe you
people! You just watched one of your friends die, and with the
exception of Bluestone here, you aren't bothered by this!"
Bluestone looked up, and his eyes were perfectly dry. "You
just pushed my partner off a building. Bothered doesn't begin to
describe how I feel. You'll regret this."
Stingray laughed. "Really, and who should I be afraid of?
Them?"--he indicated the Xanatoses, Macduff, and Pendragon--
"The New York Police Department? I was able to pull this off at a
Police Officer's Charity Luncheon, wasn't I?"
"Actually, you should be scared." Xanatos said coolly.
"The problem with 'bothering' people with money is that we have
the resources to hunt you down. And the New York Police
Department is good, I'll give them that. We are the least of your
worries, however. You just threw Elisa Maza off the top of a
building, and I doubt there was one single act you could have done
to jointly 'bother' the people with the shortest tempers in the city.
Goliath's clan just got dibs on your hide, and Talon and his crew are
not far behind. We're now fairly low on the list of people in line for
you. There won't be anything left of you by the time we get you."
Mrs. Xanatos gave a slight smile. "Poor little man. You're
trying to play the game, and you don't know the rules."
Bluestone looked surprised. "There are rules?"
"Of course." Xanatos said. "I made them."
Macduff laughed shortly. "They're older than that, laddie.
They were in place before *I* started playing, and that was a long
time ago."
"I think I can play this game of yours." Stingray
commented. "You'll all be paying me a *lot* of money."
Mrs. Xanatos laughed again. "It takes more than money to
run this. It takes brains, which you don't have."
"I set all this up."
"Thailog said the same thing," Xanatos said speculatively.
"And you don't have half of his intelligence."
"Maybe not, but I have the guns, right now, and that makes
all the difference." Stingray waved his at them.
"You don't understand. Killing Elisa Maza was bad
enough. You won the anger of a lot of people, who will hunt you
down. Kill us, and you win the anger of a lot more people, people
who will be only too happy to help Goliath, and make what he'll do
to you seem like a pleasant dream."
"Who is this Goliath you keep talking about?" Stingray
demanded.
"Your worst nightmare, believe me, when he finds out what
you've done. *I* never threw Elisa Maza off the top of a building,
not even when the feud--"
"Feud? I think 'clan war' describes it better," Macduff
scoffed.
"-- raged the hottest, and he got angry enough with me. I
can imagine what he'd do to you. Probably throw you off the top of
the tallest building in the city. I'll be more than happy to let him use
the castle for the purpose."
"And the police will let you?" Stingray said, still not
believing them.
"The police will have front row seats." Bluestone said
tightly.
"What about justice?"
Pendragon and Macduff exchanged a look, and then
Pendragon said, "There are many forms of justice in the world. By
throwing the detective off the top of this building, you just subjected
yourself to ones you never even knew existed. And, as one of those
who determines justice, I can assure you, you've been found guilty,
by my codes. Macbeth, can say the same. The verdict is the same
in every code. The question is only which system will find you
first."
"I'd bet on Goliath," Xanatos offered.
It couldn't be true. They had to be bluffing, trying to keep
their hopes up and make him nervous. "I don't believe you,"
Stingray said, gesturing to his men to escort them all down again.
Mrs. Xanatos' grin gave proof of her name "Fox", "Trust
me, before the night is over, you will."
She dreamed she was falling. Not an unusual dream, or a
rare one. In this one, however, it was daylight out, which meant that
Goliath couldn't catch her. She screamed.
And awoke to find that it wasn't a dream. She was falling
through a fogbank towards the red lights of the police cars below.
The wind of her passing soothed her itching and burning skin, but
the sight of the lights through the fog coming closer only added to
her feeling of nausea. Elisa had a sudden image of herself turning
into street pizza in front of the few of her co-workers able to come
in, and the ones they would have called in from other precincts...
And then with an almost audible snap, her wings caught the
air current. She let herself rise with it, banked, and headed for
Caerleon.
Demona relaxed once the elevator doors closed behind her.
She'd finally finished answering questions, and had been able to
duck into a nearby building. *Just in time* she thought, feeling the
changes begin. She curled over in pain, and yelled, her stomach
churning as she changed form. When it was over, she straightened,
flexing her wings. It was good to have her own form again.
She noticed Owen watching her, face expressionless as
always. She advanced on him, claws raised. "This is all *your*
fault. I should kill you for it."
"Would you rather be stone by day, then?" he asked her, in
that unemotional tone.
"I would rather have had my own form by day," Demona
growled,but she settled her wings around her shoulders.
"We don't have time to debate the question now. If you
have just changed, then the gargoyles are waking up, and we'll need
their help in stopping the terrorists."
The elevator doors opened, revealing a red-haired boy,
standing between two robots in the hallway. "I brought in the fog,
Owen."
"Excellent, Alexander."
They proceeded to the roof to look out over the scene. The
fog blanketed the lower two thirds of the building below them and
the one which housed the terrorists, screening the upper floors of
both from the eyes of the police. Owen inspected the fog critically,
and said to his pupil, " A few problems, but nothing a little practice
won't fix, and nothing which will interfere with our current plans.
Not bad at all." Alexander glowed with the praise.
"Are we ready now?" Demona demanded.
Owen pulled out a flare gun from the helicopter which was
sitting on top of the roof, lack of a helipad not withstanding. He
fired upwards, nodding to Alexander, who raised his hands and
began sending up bolts of lightning into the sky. Demona rolled her
eyes.
Elisa felt her dress flapping at her legs and looked down at
it. The scoop back was low enough to accommodate her wings, and
the walking slit in the back, her tail, but the skirt was a bit too
confining, especially for fighting in. Climbing up onto that wall had
lengthened the rip along the side. But, since one seam was ripped,
she might as well rip up the other. She'd never wear this dress
again, and it would be easier to move in. Claws which could leave
marks in metal made short work of the cloth. There, now she was
even dressed like a gargoyle.
She let her thoughts rove back as she flew towards Caerleon.
It had been last year. Fox had been expecting again, and Titania had
decided that it was a good time for Alexander and his parents to visit
Avalon. Fox, of course, had refused to go, especially since she was
due shortly, unless she had some assurance that she, and her
husband, and her children, could all go home at the end of it. So
Titania had spoken to Oberon, who had decided that the visit was an
occasion for a "great celebration" which required that *all* the
honor guard be present. And since the gargoyles turned to stone by
day, which would leave the Xanatoses undefended during that time,
Titania had ordered Elisa to come as well, getting around the whole
question of not interfering in human affairs by classifying Elisa as
part of the "honor guard". After all, Elisa *had* been present when
Oberon had declared Goliath's clan to be the honor guard of
Avalon, and wasn't Elisa part of Goliath's clan, human or not?
Elisa hadn't wanted to go, not after that trek they'd made last time.
It was supposed to be for just two weeks--Avalon time, which
worked out to about a year in the rest of the world, and Elisa hadn't
wanted to leave New York for a year. But Titania had made it clear
that this was what she wanted, and that she would do what she had
to to make certain that Elisa was there, promising that she'd send
her home periodically--if Elisa came willingly.
It hadn't been a bad two weeks, and Titania had kept her
promise to send her home. Eight hour breaks to sleep meant eight
days back in New York--she could sleep back at home. It had been
nice to see Princess Katherine, Tom and the "eggs" again, and even
more interesting to see the way the trio reacted to the presence of
substantial numbers of females of their own kind. No, the problem
was when she had come back on one of those breaks, to find out
that her 30th birthday was only a few days away. The thought of
turning thirty hadn't bothered her so much as the thought that in
another 30 years or so, she'd be 60, and Goliath (and the clan)
would only have aged another 15 years. Her mistake had been
mentioning the fact that it was her birthday--and what was bothering
her about it--to Goliath where Titania could overhear. Titania, in an
extraordinarily benevolent mood because Fox and Xanatos had
named their newly born daughter after "Anastasia", had decided to
solve that little problem, by granting Elisa a birthday gift.
It wasn't that she didn't like the ability to turn into a
gargoyle, or that she wasn't grateful to Titania for the "birthday
gift". It was what was going to make it possible for her to get
together with Goliath, after all. It was just that every time she
changed, she thought of Derek.
In some ways it had been easier when Puck had turned her
into a gargoyle. Then she hadn't remembered ever being human, so
it hadn't hurt to think of Derek. In fact, she hadn't thought of her
brother until after it was all over, everything had happened so fast.
But afterwards, even before she'd found out about Demona's
human side, she couldn't help thinking that Puck might have been
able to solve Derek's dilemma. True, Derek had gotten used to his
new form. He was even happy with it. But this ability to change
between the two forms at will (which was a definite improvement
on Demona's situation, even if it meant she turned to stone if she
tried to change during the day) would have been ideal for him,
Maggie, and Claw. They wouldn't have to give up anything to be
human again.
Unfortunately, since she'd been able to persuade Titania that
she needed to be human at night sometimes, she wasn't about to
press her luck by asking her to grant the same gift to her brother and
the other Mutates. And you simply couldn't return or exchange a
gift from the Queen of Avalon. Not when you were currently
visiting Avalon, and standing before the entire assembled court of
Oberon's children, at least.
She would get used to her other form, just as Demona had--
hopefully better than Demona had--but it was taking time. This
wasn't the sort of thing she could discuss with a shrink. She could
almost hear herself starting out, "Yes, Doctor, I'm having trouble
trying to adjust to the fact that I can turn myself into a gargoyle." If
she were incredibly lucky, they'd just suspend her for working
herself into a delusional state. No, she couldn't tell an outsider. She
hadn't even told her family. It was like Derek all over again, and
she couldn't face them with this. Not that they needed to know
anyway. So she could turn herself into a gargoyle when she wanted
to? They didn't ever have to *see* her as a gargoyle. And what
they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Finding out that yet another
member of the family didn't spend all of her time as a human, on
the other hand, might be more painful for them to accept.
Goliath was being very patient while she was trying to sort
everything out in her head. So far all he'd done was insist that she
learn how to glide, just in case she ever needed to know. She'd had
practice when Puck had cast his spell, of course, but that had been
simple gliding, nothing fancy, and her one solo flight had been
catching up to the guys when they'd been humans. Gliding was
second nature for a gargoyle, and since she was a gargoyle now, at
least part of the time, she should be able to do the same tricks that
the other gargoyles did. Ducking energy bolts in the air, or knowing
how to get two pursuing objects to smash each other head on were
things the others took for granted, and came in handy in a fight. But
they were things that were more difficult than they looked, and took
a strong knowledge of the art of gliding to accomplish. Despite what
he had said on that night when Puck had turned everything inside
out, he couldn't always be there to catch her if she fell--take tonight
for an example--but he could make certain she could catch herself
under those circumstances. And if Elisa thought she could detect an
ulterior motive behind his occasional suggestions that she work on
improving her skills at gliding, she was bad enough at it that there
was some truth to them.
The light show behind her broke her from her reverie. She
puzzled over it for a moment, wondering what could be going on
back there, when she realized. Demona, or someone, at least, was
trying to warn the guys. Funny, she'd never thought of *that* way
of attracting their attention. She let herself relax a little, but not
much. They'd be taking off to investigate that light soon, and if she
wanted to catch them before they left, she'd have to hurry.
In the distance she could see Caerleon. The mist hadn't
covered it, not that she was surprised. "It's not like it's a *natural*
fog," she muttered to herself. She let herself catch the updraft,
trying not to look down at the city immediately beneath her, or think
about the fact that she didn't have Goliath's arms to keep her from
falling onto that city, concentrating instead on Goliath's "warning"
about updrafts on that night long ago. She allowed herself to dwell
on the memory until she circled over Arthur's castle. Below, on the
tower, she could just make out figures--with wings. Good, she'd
caught them. She flew down to land...
And as usual, misjudged her speed, pulled back her wings at
the wrong moment and ended up sprawling on the stones. *At least
this time, I ended up on my knees, and not my face,* she reflected.
*I must be getting better.* Gliding was actually not that difficult.
Landing itself wasn't that hard either--after all, what went up must
come down. It was landing gracefully which gave her the most
problems.
Usually she was embarrassed by her inability to land on her
feet, but she didn't have time tonight. Goliath reached over to help
her stand and gave her a warm smile tempered only slightly by
amusement at her landing. She blushed slightly as she was
reminded again of that night when Puck had transformed everyone,
and how very much she looked like a gargoyle at the moment.
"Elisa, are you all right?" he asked.
"Fine," she said shortly, grateful that it hadn't been one of
her worse landings. "But we have a problem."
"What's with all the lights?" Lex asked, pointing.
"What's with all the lights is that there are terrorists who are
holding half the rich and powerful people of the city hostage,
including Matt, Arthur, Macbeth, Xanatos, and Fox."
"Where?" Goliath wondered.
"The Police Officers' Charity Luncheon," guessed
Broadway.
"Right," she confirmed. "And worse, Matt's been shot."
"What!" Goliath's hand balled into a fist. Elisa was
suddenly very glad that the few seconds of stone sleep had healed
her split lip and bruises. The last thing they needed was for Goliath
to go off on a vengeance streak, as he'd been known to do before.
And if he was that way over Matt... Better that he *not* find out
exactly how she'd been in a position to glide over to Caerleon.
"It's not bad, but it's not good, either. He's held out for a
few hours now, but if he doesn't get to a hospital soon, he'll die."
"We'll get him out of there before then," Goliath said
firmly. "Come, we must go to help."
As he gathered the clan to head off to the rescue, Elisa counted
them, figuring how large a force they had. The six guys, plus
Angela and 25 or so of her brothers and sisters visiting from
Avalon (Oberon had been kind enough to give them a vacation, but
kept a minimal honor guard which the clan served in rotating shifts)
and Griff, of course. Not a bad showing, actually.
"Lord Goliath, Sir Griff!" a voice shouted up from the
courtyard. Elisa looked out over the crenelations to see Sir Gawain
and Sir Lancelot running across the stones. Goliath nodded to
Broadway and Gabriel, who swooped down to carry the two
knights up to the tower.
"We bring you news, my lord," Lancelot said, bowing.
"His Majesty, Lord Macbeth, and Lady Elisa are held captive by--"
He broke off and stared when he saw Elisa standing there.
"They know, Lance. But thanks for passing along the
message." She smiled at his astonishment. He hadn't known about
Titania's present. But Lancelot was ever the charming one, and
covered his surprise by bowing.
"We would have come sooner, but traffic was terrible."
Gawain said. "I don't suppose you could carry us back to the
battle..."
Griff nodded.
"Very well," Goliath said. "Broadway, Gabriel, bring them.
We have no time to lose."
He caught Elisa's hand and jumped off the tower, leading
the way towards the lights still flashing up into the sky.
"What happened?" Goliath asked as they glided above the
city.
"Around one-fifteen, a bunch of guys in masks came out of
the elevator waving guns around. We tried to hold them off, but
there were only a handful of us fighting, and about forty of them."
Elisa glanced back at the impressive contingent of winged creatures
in the air behind them. "I think we have them outnumbered now,
though."
She had to smile, seeing them all there. The entire clan of
Wyvern, joining together to fight to defend the city. It was probably
the first time that all of the remaining clan had gathered (her grin
widened at that word) to fight anything. Tonight was an historic
occasion.
And while their numbers might be small in comparison to
what they had been a millennium ago, even that would soon change.
She let her eyes rove along the ranks of gargoyles, noting the
couples who were gliding close together. They'd hit a mating year in
a few more years, and then the numbers would go up even more. It
would take time, of course, but assuming another massacre didn't
occur (and there was no reason why one should), the clan would
again build itself up to full size. She would probably see it happen
by the end of her extended life span.
It was a pleasant thought, knowing that she would be there
to see it. Titania's gift had given her that not-insignificant
consolation, however much it played with her own self-identity.
Not only would she be there when the question of whom Angela
would mate with would be finally settled (although Elisa had a few
suspicions of her own as to who that would be) but when Angela's-
-not to mention Brooklyn's, and Broadway's, and Lex's--
grandchildren were old enough to start thinking about that sort of
thing. Elisa figured she now had about 100 years left to live. In the
normal course of things, anyway. She pushed away thoughts of
this evening, and so many others, when she hadn't been so sure
about her potential lifespan.
Thinking about Titania's gift and future generations brought
up another subject, though. One she and Goliath had been very
studiously avoiding. But that, too, was several years away, and she
was sure that she would have everything resolved in her head as to
just *what* she was--human or gargoyle or both--by then. And if,
for some reason, she hadn't finished sorting it all out, there was
always the next mating year. 100 years gave her and Goliath both a
lot of time to work with.
"Your skills are improving," Goliath rumbled.
"Yeah, but I still need to work on landing." She rubbed her
knees.
"You've done better," he agreed.
"I never realized how difficult it was. I'm beginning to
think that landing on Demona that night when Puck was using the
mirror was nothing more than a lucky fluke."
"No, you just need practice. It's very easy. Perhaps you're
thinking about it too much. Try using your instincts."
"Why not? I've tried concentrating on the mechanics of
everything."
Goliath let go of her hand. "Come then. We'll practice a bit
more on the way." He soared up, looking at her expectantly until
she followed.
"No time like the present," she muttered, and smiled, feeling
oddly optimistic.
She was still feeling optimistic when they all landed on top
of the building where Owen and Alexander were holding their light
show. And to her pleasure, she came in for a perfect landing--
without any help from Goliath.
"Excellent. You're all here," Owen commented, not
betraying any surprise at her presence--or her appearance. She'd
figured that he'd known, despite the fact that she hadn't ever been
around him in her changed form. Xanatos kept his aide well
informed.
Demona hadn't known though. Her eyes burned red and
she lunged for Elisa, claws extended. "I don't know how you took
that form, but I'll make you regret you did, human!"
Elisa didn't bother with explanations which Demona
wouldn't listen to anyhow. "We can argue about it later. We don't
have time, now."
"It won't take me long to kill you!" Demona hissed.
Angela stepped forward. "I won't let you do this, mother.
If you're going to kill Elisa, you'll have to fight me."
"And me," Brooklyn said.
"And me," Broadway and Lex said in unison.
"Count me in too," Gabriel added.
Goliath stepped in front of Elisa. "You aren't killing
anyone, Demona. Right now we need to rescue the people inside."
"And what makes you think I want to rescue anyone?" she
asked archly, her eyes still burning.
"Maybe you don't want to rescue the people, but I'm sure
you want vengeance on those terrorists for taking you hostage, and
working with us is your best chance of having it." Elisa pointed out.
"If you kill me, you lose that chance."
Demona kept her hands raised, but Owen interrupted,"The
detective is right. We cannot afford to waste time fighting among
ourselves at the moment."
"Did *you* have anything to do with this?" Demona turned
her glare on Owen.
"Lady Titania's the one responsible," Elisa said shortly.
"Now, let's get off this building and save those hostages." Goliath
took her hand and they stepped to the edge of the crowded rooftop.
She tried not to look down, even though the fog hid the ground
below. She seemed to be jumping off rooftops a lot tonight, but it
was easier when she wasn't jumping off alone.
Owen shook his head. "I'm afraid that it's a bit more
complicated than that, detective."
"Oh?" Goliath said, and the gargoyles on the roof paused in
the act of taking off.
"Surely you don't think that if it were merely a question of
terrorists taking Mr. and Mrs. Xanatos hostage, we would have
waited this long to try and rescue them?"
"Then what is it?" Elisa asked, not liking the sound of this.
"The terrorists have planted a bomb and are threatening to
detonate it if anyone approaches."
Jason Canmore looked up at the fog overhead, pausing as he
wheeled his way back to the police "command center" after giving
an update to reporters. Around sunset (or what would have been
sunset if he could have seen the sun) he'd heard a loud shriek from
above, and even though he couldn't see, he'd recognized that kind of
cry. He'd even seen some stone chips rain down. And for perhaps
the first time in his life, he'd felt reassured by it. If the gargoyles
were around, they'd find a way to rescue Elisa, Bluestone, and the
other hostages.
But that shriek had been all that he'd heard from above, and
with the fog in the way, he had no idea what--if anything--was
happening up there. It wasn't a natural fog--he could tell that much.
Which meant sorcery. The question was, whose sorcery? Elisa had
told him a little about the sorcery she'd encountered through the
years of her friendship with the gargoyles. It wasn't *always* a bad
thing. The only sorcerer he knew of personally, though, was the
Demon--and he knew that she was here, too. He'd backed up
Burnett to get her "off to a hospital". Her changing in front of the
cops and television cameras was the last thing he needed tonight,
with this terrorist situation. Besides which, he didn't trust her. This
whole thing could be one of her schemes. For all he knew, she
could be aiding the terrorists inside.
Not that they needed the help with that bomb.
He pounded his fist on the arm of his wheelchair. He was
stuck out here, when there were people in there who needed his
help. Elisa needed his help.
He hadn't felt this helpless in a long time.
Even when he'd first been going through therapy for his
paralysis, it hadn't been so bad. Then he'd had Elisa beside him
offering encouragement, and his mind had been occupied by too
many other things: wondering where John was, his and Robyn's
upcoming trials, and trying to undo the harm they'd done to Elisa's
friends' reputations. The media statement that he and Robyn had
made the day after that fateful night had at least partially worked
towards that end. They hadn't told *everything* but their public
confession that they had blown up the clock tower in an attempt to
kill the gargoyles, who were the best thing which had happened to
the city, had reduced the outcry against the clan. Captain Chavez
had come out saying that she had never seen a gargoyle, and wasn't
sure she believed in them--although there was evidence to indicate
that that *someone* had been living up in the clock tower,
corroborating *that* much of the Canmores' story--and that the
reports she'd heard of the reputed gargoyles were by and large in
their favor, whereas she could be absolutely certain that the
Canmores had been the ones responsible for the destruction of the
police station. All of which gave her no cause to continue the
Gargoyle task force. If the city had alligators in the sewers, why not
gargoyles on the buildings? The combination of the Canmores' and
her public statements had confused the public mind, reducing the
animosity further. Jason and Robyn had pleaded guilty to the
charges against them, been sentenced, and the city had moved on to
the next scandal.
All in all, things had worked out rather well. He'd been
given a certain amount of leniency for saving the life of a police
officer and his injuries. By some miracle, he'd been given
probation (not that he was going to be up to any kind of criminal
activities from a hospital bed) and then offered the opportunity of
rejoining the force--as a real representative of the law, this time.
He'd jumped--figuratively--at the chance. Since Robyn had been
the one to launch the missiles, she'd had to serve jail time, but in a
year or so she'd be up for parole, and Arthur Pendragon had already
offered her a job as his personal secretary. It meant working closely
with the gargoyles too, but Goliath risking his life to save humanity
had left its impression on her. She'd taken King Arthur up on the
offer, not because she needed the work--the Canmores had been
accumulating money enough through the years to support their
demon hunting that they were all comfortably well off, even with
financing the repairs to the police station--but because, as she'd told
him, "Our family was wrong to kill all of those gargoyles through
the years. Maybe it's time we tried to help them, and others too."
That left only John, and Jason wasn't sure *where* it left
him. He had no idea where John was. John hadn't responded to
their plea on the news to give up the chase, and no one had reported
seeing him in the past four years. Since Demona was back in town,
John might be here, or he might not. "Dominique Destine" had
been back for six months, though, and Jason had yet to hear
anything about John, so perhaps he hadn't followed her to New
York.
It was a hard won peace they had, marred by the fact that
John was out there, but peace all the same. And if anything
happened to the people in that building--any of them--that peace
would be lost as far as Jason was concerned. Robyn had said it.
The gargoyles had risked their lives to save humanity, which had
mostly turned on them over the years. Jason was determined to
learn from them. That was why he stayed with the force, despite the
nasty looks he got from some for his part in destroying the station.
He hoped that time and openness would soothe their anger, but even
if it didn't, it was no less than he deserved. Elisa had confidence in
him, and even though he understood that it would never go much
beyond that, it was enough.
She and a lot of other people were depending on him right
now, and all he could do was sit here and wait. He wheeled back
over to Morgan. He was looking forward to the end of his
probation when the courts would finally let him use the hovercraft
that he'd been modifying to accommodate his disabilities, but for
now he was grateful for the chance to work out his anger at feeling
so helpless by pushing the wheels of the non-mechanized chair.
"Still nothing," Morgan said. "They're still threatening to
shoot the hostages if anyone goes near the place--even in a
helicopter. With a third of the city government officials and a lot of
civilians in there, we can't risk sending in the bomb squad or the
SWAT team."
"Wonderful," he muttered. It was up to the gargoyles now.
"A bomb?" Elisa asked, dumbfounded. "They never said
anything to us about a bomb!"
"Perhaps it was to keep the hostages from panicking. But I
can assure you it is real," Owen responded. "Alexander, if you
would show them..."
Alexander stepped forward, holding a small hand mirror.
Elisa had never seen the boy look so solemn. Not a surprise since
his parents were being held at gunpoint, and now, apparently,
threatened with a bomb. He waved one hand over the glass and it
glowed green for a moment, then cleared to reveal a mass of
canisters and wires at the bottom of an elevator shaft.
*Great. Just great,* she thought. "So what do we do now?
We can't just rush in there, and attack them."
"Precisely." Owen said. "Even if we managed to catch all
of the terrorists holding guns on the hostages, they could still
detonate the bomb and blow up us and the hostages together."
"And themselves," Goliath pointed out. "What kind of
terrorists are they?"
"You find it so surprising that they would risk themselves
for their cause?"
"They wouldn't even tell us hostages what their 'cause' is.
But I'm pretty sure that for the leader, anyway, the 'cause' is the
almighty dollar," Elisa said.
Goliath shook his head. "It makes no sense. If it's money
he wants, why risk killing himself?"
"He's holding the Deputy Mayor, the District Attorney, a
few other important city officials, and the richest and most powerful
people in the city at gunpoint. If he's caught, he'll probably get a
life sentence--at least--and he knows it. He has nothing to lose,"
Elisa told him.
"That still doesn't tell us how to stop him," Brooklyn
insisted.
"We need a plan." Goliath stared off into space for a
moment.
Owen commented. "We have to disarm the bomb before
we can be sure of freeing the hostages."
"What is this about bombs?" asked a new voice and two
more figures landed on the roof.
"Brother! Sister!" Goliath cried. "What brings you to
Manhattan? Have you succeeded in your quest then?"
"Alas, no." Coldfire said.
"We trailed our brother Coldsteel here to Manhattan, and
have since lost him. As we were flying over, looking for him, we
noticed the lights below and came to investigate," Coldstone
explained.
Elisa couldn't help looking at Gabriel as Goliath filled his
brother and sister in on what was happening. Like the other "eggs",
he was awed by the sight of the two cyborg gargoyles. *He doesn't
know,* she thought. She and Goliath hadn't said anything to him.
The subject hadn't come up before. Given the difficulties Angela
and Goliath had gone through, when Angela had discovered her
parentage, though, it might be better if Gabriel didn't find out.
Perhaps they should tell Coldstone and Coldfire first and let them
break the news to Gabriel, or not as they chose.
She noticed Alexander watching it all with wide eyes. She'd
heard how Coldstone's three personalities had finally been
separated, and the role Alexander had played in that. She still
couldn't get over how a tiny baby could work magic that powerful.
It made her wonder what Alex could do now that he was older, and
what little Anastasia was capable of already. She shivered. *Glad
they're on our side.*
"We will help you, Goliath," Coldfire said.
Demona inspected her claws. "This is all very fine and well,
but your help means nothing if we don't have a plan."
"We were just working on that." Owen stepped forward.
"You!" Coldstone exclaimed, noticing him for the first time.
"I trust your new bodies are suiting you," Owen said.
Coldstone's eyes narrowed, but Coldfire took his arm and
said, "Fine, thank you."
"Excellent. As I said, we were working on a plan."
"I have one." Goliath interrupted. As the entire rooftop of
gargoyles, humans and robots looked at him expectantly, he began
to explain.
"I don't like this," Demona muttered.
"We don't have a choice." Elisa told her. "Unless you've
come up with a better plan."
Demona glared at her, but subsided.
Goliath reached over and pulled the door off its hinges, and a
small group of gargoyles and robots crept down the stairs. The
remaining gargoyles crawled down the walls and waited.
"Quietly now," reminded Goliath.
Footsteps sounded outside the door to the stairs. "I'm
telling you, I heard something," someone said. Everyone pressed
against the walls on either side of the door to the top floor, or
scurried back to the roof.
"What? I didn't hear a helicopter, and what else could be up
there?" another person scoffed.
"I don't know, but I heard *something*," the first voice
insisted.
"Fine, we'll look, but I'm telling you--" the door opened. "-
-no one could possibly--" The second person broke off what he was
about to say in a gasp right before Goliath's fist connected with his
face and he landed on the floor in a heap.
The owner of the first voice had slightly more time to react.
"Who--what are you?"
"No one," Demona hissed. The terrorist fell back to lie on
the floor with his companion.
The gargoyles poured into the hallway. The two terrorists
they'd encountered seemed to be the only ones on the floor, but they
stepped warily, anyhow. Elisa and Demona both stopped to pick up
the guns of the fallen men, checking the ammo left automatically.
Demona said in a tone of contempt, "Trash, but better than
nothing."
Goliath shouldered open the doors to the elevator. "Keep in
constant contact, Lexington."
Lex adjusted the radio around his neck--Owen had produced
several of the things to give to the leaders of each team so everyone
could communicate with each other. "I will."
"We're counting on you to disarm the bomb."
"If anyone can do it, I can," Lex said, trying to sound
confident, as he climbed into the dark hole of the elevator shaft.
"We will do our best, brother." Coldstone added, climbing
in after and offering a hand to Coldfire.
"Good luck." Goliath called after them.
"How's Anastasia?" Alexander asked as Owen got off of
his cellular phone.
"She's asleep." Owen had been calling to send out more of
Xanatos security to the area. They might be needed as
reinforcements when the fighting started.
"Oh." Alex sighed.
"Would you like to go home and sleep as well?" Owen
asked him, concerned. Today had been a long day for the boy, and
it wasn't really safe here, although if Alexander was in any danger,
Owen could use his powers to save him.
"No, I'll stay here until we've saved Mommy and Daddy."
Alexander climbed up into Owen's lap. "*Are* Mommy and
Daddy going to be all right?" His young voice was almost
trembling with worry, and barely held back tears.
"We're doing all that we can, Alexander." But he gave Alex
a brief hug before setting the boy down and rising to his feet
himself.
"Have no fear, boy," Sir Lancelot said confidently. "The
villains in the tower will stand no chance against his Majesty, Sir
Griff, and Lord Goliath and his clan. I only wish that I, too, could
join the fight against them."
"Know the feeling, Lance, but we can't fight in every
battle." Gawain pulled out his binoculars, and trained them on the
building where the fight was about to start. "*Someone* has to
coordinate everything, and *someone* needs to stand in reserve.
Besides, there are enough of them that they don't need us, anyway."
"True, of course, my friend, but all the same, I cannot help
wishing that I were fighting as well."
"There'll be other fights, Lance. Don't worry." Gawain
lowered the binoculars, and rested a hand on Alex's shoulder.
"And you, too, kid: don't worry. We're going to do our best to
make sure the bad guys don't win."
Griff, Brooklyn and Gabriel clung to the wall and waited.
"We're here," Lex's voice sounded over their headsets.
"It's not pretty, but I think I can disarm it."
"How long will it take?" they head Goliath ask.
"Depends on how long it takes me to figure out what wires
to pull."
"Be careful, Lex," Elisa cautioned.
"I will."
Brooklyn looked at the other two gargoyles. "They're
almost ready."
"Then we'd better move into position," Griff said.
Griff and Gabriel gestured to the other gargoyles clustered
against the wall and let go. Their respective squads joined them in
the air and they flew off to take up the positions from which they'd
launch the attack on the terrorists inside. Brooklyn dug his claws
into the wall a little tighter and watched them go, Gabriel in
particular.
He hadn't missed the way Angela had greeted Gabriel when
they'd gone back to Avalon, nor had he missed how she'd been
eager to show him the sights of New York when the Avalon
gargoyles had arrived for their "vacation". Oh, there hadn't been
anything very overt--no exclamations like, "My love!", but there
had been *something* there, something which made him wonder if
there was more between the two than simple rookery brother and
sister.
It wasn't *that* surprising. After all, the two of them had
grown up together. And Gabriel was one fine specimen of a
gargoyle--not that he, himself--or Broadway, or Lexington--were
that shabby either. No wonder she hadn't been that impressed with
their attempts at bravado during that little incident with Brod. Not
that Brooklyn was proud of them. He still couldn't believe he'd let
Lex and Broadway's attitudes rub off. And while he could honestly
say that he hadn't started the boasting sessions and attempts to
show-off, and that he'd tried to put all of that aside when there was
real work to be done, he knew perfectly well they shouldn't have
happened at all.
Angela forgiven them for all of that, though, and even now,
she wasn't ignoring them to spend all of her time alone with
Gabriel. If anything, she seemed more interested in having all of
them--himself, Broadway, Lex, and all of her rookery brothers and
sisters--doing things together. Like that barbecue they'd had on the
beach by Caerleon a week ago. He'd been surprised no one had
come investigating, the music had been so loud. Or the time on
Avalon when she'd included them when she and her brothers and
sisters had planned to go swimming at their favorite spot by a
waterfall. It was as if she were trying to make them all one family.
As Goliath's second-in-command, he could see the logic of
that. After all, they *were* all one family, even if they were of
different generations. And even that didn't matter any more, since
they were all roughly the same age. Spending time together helped
end any awkwardness from their different histories that the two
groups of gargoyles might feel, and seal clan unity.
As just Brooklyn, he was glad to have large numbers of
rookery brothers and sisters again. He'd missed the feeling of
having lots of brothers and sisters around. Not that he hadn't had
Broadway and Lex, of course, but going from a large family down
to three--well six, including Goliath, Hudson, and Bronx--had been
tough, especially when the reason had been the massacre. It had
almost been prophetic, though, when they'd escaped because they'd
been spending the day in the rookery. Now, instead of being dust
along with their own rookery brothers and sisters, the three of them
were alive and becoming just three more of "the eggs", as his old
friend Tom still called them.
It was entirely possible that Angela hadn't made up her
mind, yet, but even if she had decided that Gabriel was the one she
loved, she had made certain that the three New Yorkers had met and
were friendly with those fifteen sisters of hers. And some of them
were kind of cute.
"What's the word?" Ophelia asked crawling up the wall to
come alongside of him.
"Lex has reached the bomb," Brooklyn answered, forcing
his thoughts back to the task at hand. "Now we have to see if he
can disarm it."
"And what if he doesn't?"
"Uh, then the building and everyone inside goes boom."
She shivered.&nbs