CALEDON RISING - PART FOUR - FINALE
by Brian McCrary(fenris@phnx.uswest.net)
DISCLAIMER -- As everyone knows, Gargoyles and its various characters are the property of Buena Vista television and the Almighty Mouse. This story and any subsequent stories I might write with these characters are for my own pleasure and the enjoyment of others, and not for profit -- so don't sue me. Any additional characters to the Gargoyles universe that may appear herein are my own creations, so please don't borrow them without my permission. Now, on with the show!
P.S. If you like my work, send me feedback; it keeps me writing!
P.P.S. This chapter is rated PG-13 for mild profanity and gratuitous violence.
***
"Papers, please," the officious Ukrainian customs agent asked in the clipped English that seemed to be universal outside the United States.
As Guy handed over his recently acquired passport and visa, a senior customs official came bustling up to the queue, pulled the customs agent aside and whispered urgently to him. The agent glanced up, saw David Xanatos standing quietly amidst his security detail, and paled. The senior official gave his now thoroughly flustered subordinate one last glare before turning to greet the American multibillionaire.
"Excuse me Mr. Xanatos, Sir, gentlemen," he said as he approached the counter. "My government apologizes for any inconvenience you have suffered --"
"Think nothing of it," Xanatos said offhandedly. "Now, if you could finish checking us through so we can get to our hotel?" He took off his sunglasses and arched one of his eyebrows with an expression that had been known to unnerve heads of state. The customs official, being made of lesser clay, mumbled his agreement and gestured forward the agent, who quickly stamped their passports and visas, passing all their luggage without even a cursory examination.
As they left Boryspil International Airport in the limousine that had been waiting for their arrival since early dawn, Guy loosened his tie and grimaced at Xanatos. "I never realized the effect your wealth has on the average human," he said, watching the businessman's reaction. "Do you truly enjoy all the fawning and fear it inspires?"
"At first, I'll admit, I enjoyed the feeling of power," Xanatos sighed, "but it has become tiresome. I'd much rather deal with people who have enough self-respect not to be intimidated by my money ... like a certain clan I could name," he finished with a smile.
The two lapsed into silence as the city of Kiev passed by outside the limousine. Guy found the counterpoint of the older architecture on the hills above the Dneiper River to the newer buildings on the left bank both jarring and beautiful, especially after the glass and steel canyons of Manhattan. It was odd; Xanatos had told him during the flight from New York that Kiev was further south than either Manhattan or his old home in Scotland, but it *felt* colder. Looking out at the leaden sky (still so odd to be awake during the day), Guy recalled his encounter with Odin while still in the grips of Avalon's magic, and half expected to see the one-eyed god ride by on his enchanted steed.
Xanatos glanced over at one of the security men riding with them. "Check in with the plane; make certain we can maintain contact."
"Yes, sir," the man replied, opening up a panel in the console that divided the rear seat and lifted out a headset. "Foxfire One, this is Xanatos One; Foxfire One, this is Xanatos One, over ..."
On board Xanatos' private airliner Broadway heard the signal through the open cockpit door. "--atos One; Foxfire One, this is Xanatos One, over ..."
Colin picked up the handmike and pressed the send button. "Xanatos One, this is Foxfire One, reading you five-by-five, over."
"Foxfire One, hold for Mr. Xanatos on secure line." Colin replaced the handmike and lifted telephone receiver from its cradle. A moment of static was quickly replaced by Xanatos' voice. "Hello, Colin; all tucked in safe and sound?"
"Everything is as planned, David. The plane has been parked in your hanger on the edge of the airport, and the flight crew is bunked in the quarters you ordered added to the hanger. Your other 'guests'," he smiled as Broadway stuck his head into the cockpit, "are settled in and going over the city maps and aerial photographs you provided." He chuckled as Broadway took the hint and left the flight deck to rejoin Angela in the richly appointed living quarters that took up full half of the plane's interior.
"Good," Xanatos replied to the speakerphone that allowed his companions to listen in on the conversation. "We'll contact you again after we've squared ourselves away at the Andriyivsky Hotel and confirmed our itinerary."
"And Colin," Guy added, "be sure that Broadway and Angela are kept informed of all our plans."
"Already covered, Goli-- Guy," Colin's voice responded tinnily through the speakerphone.
The Andriyivsky was located in the core of the city, a magnificent example of the Russian Baroque architecture that gave Kiev so much of its personality. Inside, the hotel had been restored to the original splendor that would not have looked out of place in a Czar's palace; ornate crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling of the lobby, casting bright reflections from the burnished goldleaf that seemed to cover every sculpted feature of the walls and ceiling. Polished marble floors echoed underfoot, interspersed with islands of thick, burgundy carpet decorated with the Ukrainian coat of arms in gold thread. Massive, comfortable furniture done in the baroque style occupied those islands, providing resting places where the weary traveler could pause and gain their bearings, or while away the day catching up on their reading while being waited on hand and foot by the unobtrusive hotel staff.
Once again the presence of the Xanatos billions performed its magic, making certain their every need was attended to, but without the nerve-wracking bootlicking so evident in the government functionaries. The hotel manager greeted them personally and conducted them to the floor of suites Xanatos had reserved in advance. The cream of the hotel's staff efficiently and quietly delivered and unpacked their luggage, checked all the linens, delivered refreshments and disappeared.
Once the bellhops and chambermaids were out of the way Guy assigned duty positions to the security detail. At first he had worried there might be friction between Xanatos' human guardians and himself, but they had accepted his authority without question. They might not be clan, but they knew their jobs and they recognized a fellow professional when they met one.
Broadway sat next to Angela, doing his best to concentrate on the photographs laid out before them on the airplane's dining room table, and failing miserably.
When Goliath had first made his choices for the mission, the big turquoise gargoyle had been ecstatic, both for the confidence his clan leader had shown in him, and for the chance to spend some time alone with Goliath's daughter. But misgivings, at least about the latter reason for happiness, quickly set in.
Broadway knew his own shortcomings; he wasn't as smart as Lexington, or as witty as Brooklyn. And though he could handle himself in a fight, he knew he'd never come close to being Goliath's equal as a warrior. The only way he felt he was able to court Angela was with gestures; taking her to romantic movies, walking with her through the Eyrie Building's arboretum, discovering for her a new collection of medieval love poetry. To his immense surprise, his methods had succeeded, and more and more Angela chose his company during their free time. She had even kissed him a time or two once she realized he was too shy to initiate things on his own.
Now that he was left without any of those crutches, he was at a loss how to proceed. For all its comforts, the interior of the plane was severely lacking in the sort of things Broadway had been relying on to press his suit. There was no library, no flowered garden, and while the plane did boast an impressive selection of movies on the new Digital Video Disc technology, Neither David's nor Fox's tastes ran towards the sort of classically romantic films that were Broadway's method of telling Angela how he felt.
"--what do you think, Broadway?" Angela said for the second time, finally breaking through Broadway's self-absorption.
"Huh? Uh, I'm sorry, Angela, I didn't hear what you said."
Angela sighed in exasperation. "I said, do you think we should stay in the plane at night or find someplace in the city to wait for Father to contact us?"
"Oh. Uh, I guess that depends on where they end up going. We want to stay close enough to provide backup if they need it."
"That makes sense," Angela nodded. She eyed Broadway narrowly. "What about my other question?"
Broadway flushed. "I--I'm sorry, I didn't hear that, either," he admitted.
"I *asked*," a touch more asperity creeping into her voice, "whether or not you thought this church would be a good vantage point for us if we did leave the airport." She held up a photograph of Sofiyivsky Cathedral.
"Oh."
"What's wrong with you, Broadway? Ever since we boarded the plane you've been moping around like a spanked puppy!" Angela's hand slapped down on the table like a shot. "Father is counting on us, you know!"
"I know Goliath is counting on us! You don't have to remind me every fifteen minutes!"
"Well, you couldn't tell that from the way you've been acting! You haven't said five words to me since we left New York; if there's one thing Gabriel taught me when I was his second on Avalon --"
"That tears it!" Broadway shouted, jumping up from the table. "Okay, maybe I'm not a hotshot warrior-type like that Gabriel clown you keep going on and on about, but I know how to do my job!" He got a moment of perverse pleasure at the flush that crossed her face at the mention of her rookery brother's name. "Maybe I'm just sick and tired of hearing about how *great* Gabriel is! Maybe the problem isn't me at all; maybe there's something wrong with *you*!" With that he stormed out of the plane's dining area and back to the lounge.
"Oh, that was just great, you idiot," he muttered to himself, slumped in one of the overstuffed leather chairs in front of the widescreen television. "Now she *really* has a reason to be mad at you," he groaned, holding his head in his hands.
***
Colin was checking over the latest information from his clan's agents in the city when the phone on the desk began to buzz insistently. Setting the reports aside he leaned back in his chair and picked up the receiver. "Colin here."
"Colin, this is David. We're all set at the hotel; you and Aislinn can come ahead as soon as you're ready."
"Just about ready now, David," Colin replied. "Our agents have reported in; nothing new, I'm afraid. Thailog is still too well hidden for them to ferret him out."
"Well, that's why we're here, isn't it?" Xanatos chuckled grimly. "Oh, before you hang up, Guy wants to talk to our theater-going friend with the large appetite."
"Just a moment, I'll call him." He punched the 'hold' button and set the receiver down. "Broadway!"
"Yeah, what is it?" the blue gargoyle asked crossly as he entered the office section of the airliner.
Colin glanced at him sharply. "Goliath wants to talk to you," he said, gesturing to the phone.
"Terrific," Broadway grumbled, earning an even more concerned look from the Caledon Rising magnate. He picked up the phone and released the 'hold' button. "Hi, Goliath," he answered.
"It's 'Guy', Broadway," his clan leader corrected gently.
"Oh, yeah ... right," Broadway mumbled back. "What was it you needed, uh, Guy?"
"I wanted to be certain you and Angela were not suffering any ill effects from your ... lack of sleep," Guy replied.
"Naw, it's not a problem, though it's a little weird, being awake this time of day."
"And Angela?"
"Oh, she's doing great, just ... great," Broadway answered distractedly. "Uh, Guy, I gotta go, I have something cooking on the stove and it's starting to burn."
"Very well. Give the telephone back to Colin before you leave," Guy instructed.
"I am concerned," Guy said to Colin after Broadway left the office. "When I asked Broadway about my daughter there was a tone to his reply I have never heard from him before. The two have been courting, and I would know if there is a problem developing between them that could affect our mission."
"I'll keep my ears open, Guy," Colin replied, "but sometimes you have to let them work these things out for themselves."
As promised, both Colin and Aislinn paid close attention to how Angela and Broadway were acting around each other, not that it took any special skill to notice the almost physical tension that had sprung up between the two.
"You know," Aislinn said as they left the airport, "if the emotions in that plane were wound any tighter the whole thing would blow up. Those two are either going to kill each other before the week is out or end up as lifemates, and I think it's even money as to which it'll be."
"Better not say that to Goliath," Colin noted dryly. "He's still adjusting to the whole Daddy gig; his reaction to some hot-blooded young male flying his daughter is *not* something I want to contemplate."
***
The next two days the group followed the plan initially suggested by Colin and Aislinn; Xanatos made a series of visible and highly publicized inspection tours of the industries that Xanacorp was involved with to one extent or another. Xanatos also made himself available to the media, and attended a couple of functions arranged in his honor by the government; the Ukraine was very serious about establishing and maintaining its economic and industrial stability, and attracting more investors from the West like Xanacorp Enterprises was key to achieving those goals.
For their own part the team from Caledon Rising continued their own efforts to track down Thailog's hiding place before he could follow through with whatever plans he had made. Xanatos' own agents interfaced with those Colin and Aislinn already had in place and they quickly eliminated a number of possible sites for Thailog's headquarters. Unfortunately the few locations that all parties considered most likely for the rogue clone to have set up shop were too heavily guarded for them to be eliminated one way or the other. The end result was that all parties agreed their only option was to continue with their original plan and hope that Thailog took the bait.
***
Broadway sat by himself in the cockpit of the airliner. He wasn't very proud of his behavior, and as he watched the sunlight fade into dusk he decided to do whatever it took to salvage what he could of his relationship with Angela, even if it meant giving up the idea of being her mate.
"Angela, can I talk to you?"
Her reply was the temperature of an arctic winter. "I don't think we have anything to talk about."
"Angela, please; I really need to say something to you, and I can't do it here." He laid one hand gently on her shoulder and turned her to face him. "Come gliding with me ... please?"
Angela took in the earnest look on his face and her own expression softened slightly. "What about Father and the others? What if they need us?"
"We won't go far, and we can both carry transceivers in case they need to reach us."
"All right," Angela relented.
A few minutes later the two gargoyles were soaring high above Kiev; Broadway's earlier resolve faltered as he watched Angela out of the corner of his eye. 'How can I lose her?' he thought to himself. 'I love her so much; do I love her enough to let her go?'
Unbeknownst to Broadway, Angela was watching him in turn. She didn't know how things between them had turned sour, and she had no idea how to go about fixing them, or if she even wanted to. She had been so certain Broadway, with his gentle nature and sweet disposition, would never hurt her, and then he'd said those horrible, hateful things to her. A single tear trickled down her cheek; she knew something had been eating at him, but every time she had tried to talk to him about it he's avoided the conversation, until that terrible moment at the dining table.
The pair glided in silence until Broadway spotted the spires of one of the city's gothic cathedrals rising out of the ground mist, their architectural style more reminiscent of the western churches than the Russian Orthodox that dominated the region. Broadway gestured downward and Angela nodded, spiraling down with him to perch in the shadows on the cathedral's roof.
They stood in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. "Well, I'm listening," Angela finally said.
Broadway sighed deeply, still avoiding meeting her eyes. Finally he raised his head and, looking out over the city began to speak.
"The night you arrived at the clocktower with Elisa and Goliath; what do you remember about it?"
"The clocktower?" Angela asked, puzzled. "I remember meeting all of you for the first time, and being welcomed to your clan," she said at last. A little smile crossed her face. "And you gave me my first piece of chocolate."
"All I remember is your face," Broadway replied, looking at her at last, "like one of those angels the human priests always talked about. I'd never seen anything so beautiful."
"There's more to me than a pretty face," Angela said crossly.
"I know that, Angela," he replied. "You're smart, strong, funny; you're everything any male could ever want in a ... mate."
"Broadway --"
"Let me finish, Angela," he interrupted her, "or I'll never get the nerve up again." Her eyes wide, Angela nodded for him to continue.
"I know we all made awful pests of ourselves at first; none of us thought we'd ever see a female again ... well, except for Demona, and she doesn't count. So we were all pretty stupid about it." Broadway shook his head. "I don't know how you put up with us.
"Anyway, when you read us the riot act, well, I decided to court you the old-fashioned way; romantic poems, places, movies. I figured I could let all that stuff do my talking for me, and for a while I thought it was working; we were spending more and more time together, and I let myself believe there was a chance it would become something more.
"Then we got here, and I realized that stuff was all I had to offer you; maybe I'm not too smart, but I know my own shortcomings." He held up a hand to forestall Angela's objections. "I know I'm a big, fat gargoyle. I'm not smart like Lex; he can tear apart a computer or any other piece of human technology and not only put it back together, but probably make it run better. And Brooklyn's perfect as Goliath's second-in-command; he's a natural-born leader. As Gabriel's second on Avalon you know what a hard job that is."
He looked away from her again. "That's why I got so mad; it wasn't anything you said or did, it was me. I didn't want to believe I wasn't good enough for you, but I'm not. And every time you mentioned Gabriel ..." Broadway drew a shuddering breath. "When we get back to Manhattan I'll get Puck to summon a skiff for you, if I have to rip his ears off to do it. Then you can go back to Avalon, and bring Gabriel back to join us if you want to; if you do, I'll welcome him like a brother." He smiled sadly. "I just want you to be happy, Angela, and I hope I can still be your friend."
Broadway started when Angela's hand touched his cheek. He glanced at her and was shocked to see tears running down her face. "Angela --?"
"Shhh," she said laying one talon across his lips. "You've spoken your piece, now it's my turn." She took his hands in hers so he couldn't turn away. "Broadway, none of those things matter. It wasn't the movies, or the poetry, or the walks in the garden that meant anything, it was being with you. It was your great heart and gentle soul that attracted me, that made me feel safe, and loved." She smiled sadly. "I had enough of males chasing me because I was pretty when I was growing up on Avalon. When I got here, at first I thought it was going to be the same thing; you, Lexington and Brooklyn fighting over me like I was some kind of prize."
Broadway flushed. "I know, and I'm sorry. We should've known better --"
"I said it was my turn," Angela chided, stopping him. "That was only at first. Then I realized, while the other two were still doing their best to impress me, you were actually listening to me, as if you really cared what I thought and felt."
"Of course I care," Broadway protested. "So do the others, Angela."
She shook her head. "Not the way you do. Oh, they listen to me, and if they're not too busy they might actually hear what I have to say, but they're not really interested." Her smile brightened. "But you are, and you have been from the first." She dabbed at her eyes with the edge of one wing. "As far back as I can remember, there's been no one I could share my feelings with the way I can with you. None of the males on Avalon were interested in much beyond the next hunt or the next competition, and of my rookery sisters, those who weren't drawn to the same pursuits as the males were too concerned with attracting the males' attention in other ways."
"But what about Gabriel?" Broadway asked, a touch of pain coloring his voice. "I thought -- I mean, I thought you and he ..."
"So that's why you said what you did," Angela replied wonderingly while Broadway blushed with shame. "You were *jealous*! Oh, Broadway, I'm so sorry. Gabriel is my rookery brother, but more than that, he's like my real brother, as well."
"I don't understand."
"You know that Guardian Tom and Princess Katherine raised us from eggs," she explained. "They knew nothing of how gargoyles raised their young, so they did the best by us they could; we were the children of their hearts and they loved us all. But as time passed a few of us became closer still, became like the children of their bodies that they never had." Angela smiled in reminiscence. "I grew up thinking of Gabriel as my *brother*; I could no more think of him as a mate than you could -- could think of my mother that way." Both Broadway and Angela gave a little shudder at the idea, if for different reasons.
"Then, you don't have someone waiting for you back on Avalon?" Broadway asked, hope starting to edge into his voice.
"The only one I have like that is right here, right now," she answered shyly. "I just don't know if he really wants me."
"I've never wanted anything more in my life," he breathed, crushing her to him in an embrace. For a few minutes they just sat there, basking in their newfound understanding, then Angela began to laugh softly.
"What is it, my love?" Broadway asked, tilting her head up to his.
"I think Hudson had an idea something like this might happen," she chuckled. "He made a great deal out of making sure I knew all the traditions regarding courting gargoyles -- and mated couples, as well." She smiled and growled softly into Broadway's chest, her talons running lightly across his heavily muscled shoulders. "The poor dear was very embarrassed; the elder females are supposed to instruct the younger, but since the only one he knows is my mother, well ..."
"So what did he tell you that was so important?" Broadway asked, half distracted by Angela's actions; his own lessons on the matter had occurred before the sack of Castle Wyvern, and he couldn't think which of the many traditions was so important.
Angela slipped out of Broadway's embrace and slowly walked to the edge of the roof, her hips swaying hypnotically. She looked coyly over her shoulder, her eyes smoldering with a glow that, unknown to Broadway, matched his own. "He said there was one thing that made the mating bond official; that everything else was unimportant." She turned at the roof's edge, snapping her wings wide and squaring her shoulders proudly. "My suitor must catch me on our mating flight." With a snarl she sprang from the roof, her wings catching an updraft that hurled her high into the night sky. With a roar Broadway sprang after her, everything else forgotten in the primal need to claim his mate.
***
It was the fourth day since their arrival and still there was no sign that Thailog was even aware of their presence, let alone making plans to take advantage of it. Xanatos had already exhausted most of the places he could logically be expected to visit during his tour, and had been reduced to taking in some of the cultural sights of the city, as well as a little ostentatious shopping for gifts and additions to his collections of rare volumes and artwork.
Guy, on the other hand, was gaining more insights into human nature than he would ever have believed possible. After a little initial awkwardness the human members of Xanatos' security squad had accepted him as one of their own, including him in the off-duty banter and activities that typified people in their profession across the world.
For Guy it was a type of camaraderie he had never experienced before; as close as the clan was, there was always a certain amount of reserved deference in how the other gargoyles treated him because of his position as leader. But to the businesslike professionals of Xanatos' security forces, once they were off-duty he was just 'one of the boys'. It was decidedly odd, Guy thought as they sat around a poker table playing five-card stud. A few short years ago these men, or others just like them, had hunted Elisa and him across Central Park.
A little while later Xanatos appeared in the doorway. "Ready for another turn around the city, Guy?" he asked as the security men hastily got to their feet.
Guy looked at the full house he was holding, sighed, and tossed the cards into the center of the table. "Whenever you are," he replied, rising as well. "Is Colin or Aislinn accompanying us today?"
Xanatos shook his head. "They received a tip on a large transfer of black market military arms occurring this afternoon. They're going to try and follow the suppliers back to their source, then join us later."
"What is our destination?" Guy asked as they proceeded down the hall. "I wish to inform Broadway and Angela in case they are needed."
"An electronics plant about 20 kilometers west of Kiev," Xanatos replied. "It shut down after the collapse of the Soviet Union and Xanacorp acquired for a song; we're retooling it to produce some of the electronic components that currently have to be imported."
Angela beat Broadway to the phone by a few seconds. "Hello?" she said breathlessly, smothering a giggle.
"Angela?" her father's voice asked perplexedly.
"Yes, Father?" she replied, swatting at Broadway's hand as he reached for the phone.
Guy cleared his throat and collected his thoughts. Obviously whatever had been troubling Broadway and his daughter earlier had been cleared up, though he wasn't certain he was quite ready to find out how. "Put Broadway on the phone; I need to go over our plans for today."
"Here he is, Father," she replied, handing the phone over to her mate along with a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Uh, hello, Guy," Broadway said, tremendously relieved there was no video hookup with the phone. He knew that Angela's insistence on a human-styled father/daughter relationship had brought about certain non-gargoyle changes in Goliath's attitudes, and he wasn't looking forward to being on the receiving end of the traditional hairy-eyeball treatment for prospective sons-in-law from his clan leader.
For his part Guy decided to reserve such matters until they returned to New York. "Xanatos has given me the itinerary for today's expedition. Do you have the city map in front of you?" At Broadway's affirmative he quickly gave him the necessary instructions to locate their destination. "Our plans are to remain there until Colin and Aislinn join us, then return to the hotel. Will there be any difficulty in maintaining contact?"
Broadway compared the coordinates on the map to the ones superimposed on the scanner grid. "You're still gonna be well in range for the transponders," he replied. "We should be able to track you, no problem."
"Very well, then; I will call you when we return to the hotel."
Colin and Aislinn were becoming concerned.
They had located the exchange point for the weapons shipment without difficulty; either this particular group of black marketeers was cocky to the point of stupidity, or they had protection on higher levels than Colin cared to think about. Either way, the transfer of armaments for cash was taking place out in the open at a currently unused portion of the railroad yards, with little or no security in evidence. The Caledon Rising pair were able to get within a hundred yards of the exchange without being seen; now they crouched within an abandoned boxcar, observing through high-powered binoculars while a miniaturized shotgun mike picked up the gunrunners' conversation.
"Anything of interest?" Colin asked as Aislinn concentrated on translating the conversation she was listening to.
"Just a minute," she replied distractedly. "They're exchanging pleasantries; I guess these two have done a lot of business together ... aha!" Her eyes gleamed. "The buyer just asked when another shipment would be available; seems they have a border war in the offing in Central Africa and both sides are paying top dollar for heavy weapons --" her voice broke off with a sharp intake of breath.
"What is it?" Colin pressed.
"The seller just said his boss is suspending shipments while he takes care of some 'personal business'." She paused for a moment. "The buyer is arguing with his friend to pressure his boss about it." Her eyes fixed on Colin's face. "The seller just said, *very* emphatically: "No one pressures Alexandreyvitch about anything -- not more than once.""
""Alexandreyvitch?"" Colin questioned. "Isn't that Russian for --"
"Alexander," Aislinn replied. "I think we may finally be on to something."
Colin and Aislinn watched as the shipment was loaded on to a railroad car from the two military transports that accompanied the arms dealer. As the train containing the arms moved out Colin jotted down the railroad car's registration numbers; their agents would continue to track its movements and, if possible, prevent its arrival at its destination.
Meanwhile Aislinn watched as the now empty trucks formed up behind the BMW driven by the black marketeer and started to exit the railroad yard. As the rearmost truck passed by she raised an air pistol and fired a dart containing a tracking transponder into the canvas covering the truck bed.
Once the vehicles were out of sight the duo retreated to their car and activated the tracer. Following at a discreet distance, they trailed the convoy as it passed out of the industrial area surrounding the railroad yards, through the old part of Kiev, and crossed one the several bridges over the Dneiper River.
Aislinn frowned as she compared the course the convoy was taking with a map of the city and its surroundings. "Colin, isn't the factory that David and Guy were visiting in this direction?"
Colin glanced away from the road for a moment and tapped a location on the map. "It's right about there," he agreed. "If we stay on this road we'll pass right by it."
"Maybe I'd better contact them and make sure everything is all right," she decided, setting aside the map and pulling a satellite phone out of her pack. She punched a number into the phone and waited as it rang. "No answer," she said after a minute.
Colin's expression tightened. "Any chance there's something wrong with the phone?"
Aislinn shook her head. "Already thought of that. I just ran a self-test; the phone checks out fine."
"Call Broadway," Colin decided. "Hopefully he's heard something."
Broadway was deeply engrossed in one of his endless stream of detective novels when the phone rang. "Yo," he said absently into the receiver as he turned the page.
"Broadway, this is Aislinn. Have you heard from David or Guy today?"
"Just this morning, when they called to tell us where they were going."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Can you check the tracking screen for us?" she finally asked.
"Sure, Aislinn," Broadway replied, turning the monitor around so he could see the screen from where he sat. "Nothing showing," he reassured her. "What's the problem?"
Aislinn outlined what they had learned by eavesdropping on the arms dealers. "We can't raise them on the satellite phone," she finished, "and there should be someone ready to answer at all times."
"Broadway, this is Colin," the businessman said taking the phone from Aislinn. "Did David brief you on how to remote activate their transponders?"
"No, but Lex did; these were his design, remember," Broadway replied, pulling the keyboard towards him. "Hang on a sec." Colin heard the faint clicking of talons on computer keys over the phone. "That's weird."
"What is it?" Colin asked.
"According to this, they aren't at the factory; their signals are coming from somewhere about six kilometers west of there."
Colin and Aislinn exchanged grim looks. "Looks like Thailog's taken the bait," Aislinn said. "Broadway, give us the coordinates for their signals." She jotted down the numbers and checked them against her own map. "Nothing on the map there, but the arms convoy's on a direct course for the same spot."
"All right, here's what we'll do," Colin decided quickly. "Broadway, as soon as it gets dark enough, you and Angela head out from the airport to join us. You'll find some specialized equipment in the cargo hold that'll get you out here a lot faster, and give you two some added firepower. There are also two suits of Xanatos' new body armor; they'll make you less visible against the night sky, and provide some protection against the firepower these people carry. In the meantime I'll summon our own ground force and see if we can't get a better idea of what we're up against."
"Got it," Broadway replied. "See you after dark."
"I just hope David and Guy will still be alive when we get there," Colin muttered.
As a point of fact, the two they were discussing were very much alive, if more than a little worse for wear.
Upon arriving at the factory Xanatos had gone into his visiting magnate act, poking his nose into everything and making all his subordinates extremely nervous. So used to such behavior had Guy become that he didn't catch any of the warning signs that might have given him a hint that the plant officials were even more nervous than Xanatos' presence called for.
The first hint that there was a problem came after they had lunched with the executives of the electronics plant. The vice-president who had been their guide all morning led the way back to the elevators that served both the offices and the industrial plant below, keeping up a steady stream of inconsequential chatter as he did so.
Once at the bank of elevators he led the group to a more spacious freight elevator at the end of the hall. "This will take us directly to the plant floor, where you can see for yourself the progress we've made in modernizing the systems," the vice-president said, standing aside so Xanatos and his people could file into the car. The moment the last one was inside he pressed a switch on the control device he had hidden in one hand. The doors of the elevator slammed shut and the car flooded with knockout gas, instantly rendering Xanatos, Guy, and the security team unconscious.
"Time to wake up, *Father*!"
Guy shook his head groggily as the rumbling voice boomed in his ears. The motion made him think his skull was going to burst like an overripe melon; he tried to grab his head with both hands, only to have the action brought up short with a sharp pain in his wrists and the rattle of chains.
"Oh, does your head hurt? What a shame; here, let me give you something for that," the oddly familiar voice rumbled again. Suddenly Guy was doused in a flood of ice-cold water that soaked him from head to toe. The voice started to cackle, then broke down in a coughing fit.
Guy raised his dripping head and forced his eyes open. The icy bath had served to clear away some of the cobwebs left over from the gas, and what greeted his sight quickly erased the rest.
He was chained to a mass of pipes rising out of the floor in a huge garage filled with dusty military vehicles, everything from two-man cars reminiscent of a jeep to enormous battle tanks, their barrels capped and shrouded. Across from him sat Xanatos, similarly bound to another set of pipes that exited the wall behind him before bending ninety degrees to disappear into the concrete floor. Of the rest of their security team there was no sign.
The continuing sound of a hacking cough drew Guy's attention away from Xanatos' unconscious form. With a gasp he recognized the hunched-over figure that was clinging to a staff as terrible spasms racked his frame. It was Thailog, but a Thailog such as he had never seen before. The doctor's statement that he had been 'horribly scarred by fire' didn't even begin to tell the tale. Thailog's snow-white hair was gone, replaced by ridges of bruised-looking, scarred flesh. One eye was missing as well, the gaping socket a mute testimony to past agony. Nor had his wings escaped unscathed; the ribs were mangled and broken, the membranes burned and tattered. What was left of them hung limply down his back, mute testimony to the severity of his injuries.
The scars on the rest of his body were less extensive, but no less hideous; one arm was twisted and at least partially crippled, supported by a sling around Thailog's neck. His tail was not merely injured, most of it was gone, with only a foot or two of stump remaining. Only his legs seemed relatively intact, but his whole frame suffered from the wasting illness the doctor had referred to; Thailog was gaunt, his once-mighty muscles shrunken and reduced to mere ghosts of their former power.
Guy realized Thailog had stopped coughing and was watching him out of his one remaining eye. "Well, Father, do you like what you see? Are you satisfied with your handiwork?" the clone demanded, his eye gleaming madly.
"Your injuries are the result of your own actions, Thailog. None of them are my responsibility," Guy replied.
Thailog chuckled and coughed. "Oh, Father, even as a human, you're still as pedantic as ever." He eyed Guy intently. "How did you manage that, anyway? Did Puck do you a favor, or is this one of his pranks?" He smiled at Guy's start. "Oh, yes, I know all about Puck; Demona was very forthcoming with information about you and the clan before we ... parted company." He waited for a moment, then shrugged when Guy did not reply. "No answer? Ah, well, it doesn't really matter; in a few more hours there won't be anything left of Manhattan but a glowing hole in the ground."
"Whatever you have planned, Thailog, we will stop you," Guy promised, yanking at his chains.
"Oh, please!" Thailog yawned, "spare me the dramatics. Perhaps if you were in your true form, Father, you might break those chains. But as a puny human? I don't think so." The scarred clone crossed to where Xanatos slumped in his chains and picked up a waiting bucket of water. "Time for my other father to join the party," he crooned, upending the bucket over Xanatos' head.
Xanatos coughed and sputtered his way to wakefulness. "What -- who --" His eyes locked on Thailog, then registered on Guy sitting in his restraints. "I see there's been a change of plans," he said sardonically.
"Good evening, Father; you don't know how much I've missed our little chats," Thailog laughed, then lapsed into coughing again.
Xanatos waited until Thailog's coughing fit passed. "What now? I hope you're not planning on telling us all your evil plans, to prove how smart you are. It's so ... clich‚."
Thailog grabbed the front of Xanatos' suit and yanked him off the ground; even wasted with sickness, the gargoyle's strength was formidable. "I would be very careful, 'Father', on how you provoke me; it amuses me for the moment to keep you alive, but it is not necessary to my plans." His grip tightened on the fabric of the suit, slowly cutting off Xanatos' air until the businessman began to turn purple.
"What do you hope to gain by all this, Thailog?" Guy asked, trying to distract the angry clone before he followed through and killed the target of his rage.
Thailog continued choking Xanatos a moment or two longer before dropping him, choking, to the ground. "Gain? Why, I hope to gain your deaths, and the deaths of all those you love, and while I'm at it, the death of the world as well," he replied, his one remaining eye glowing madly. "But you knew that, Father, or you wouldn't be here trying to stop me."
Guy looked at him sadly. "Is there so little of me in you, then, that you can deny your nature so completely?"
"My nature? My NATURE!?!" Thailog screamed, his scarred face twisted into a pain-wracked snarl. "There is nothing *natural* about me! I am the result of one human's ambition and another's perverted science! 'Abomination' you called me, and abomination I am!" He drew a deep, shuddering breath and spoke more calmly. "There is no place for me in this world; even my body betrays me. Sleep does not heal me and my flesh wastes away. The sky is denied me and my lungs are seared by fire. Before long I will sleep and never awaken; why shouldn't the world die with me?"
Xanatos managed to force himself back to his knees. "And the mercenaries who are working for you, how do they feel about your little plan to incinerate the planet?" he asked.
Thailog smiled hideously at him. "Of course none of them know my plans; the few who actually know who I am think I am raising capital to effect a cure for myself. They protect me while I sleep, and receive the lion's share of the profits. They in turn give my orders to the rest, who don't care about anything as long as they are paid well enough."
"I'm surprised you would trust anyone enough to let them know where you sleep," Xanatos observed. "Aren't you afraid they'll just smash you one morning and keep all the money for themselves?"
"You taught me better than that, 'Father'," Thailog gloated. "None of my chief henchmen will betray me; you see, I took the precaution of fitting each of them with an explosive collar that must be reset every twenty-four hours, otherwise, *boom*." His smile grew evil. "I let one of them lapse as an object lesson; the others were suitably ... impressed."
"Effective," Xanatos conceded, "if a bit showy."
"I learned from the best."
Colin crouched in the shadows behind one of the base's numerous warehouses and watched as his team took out two more of the gunrunners' sentries.
To everyone's surprise the old Soviet Army base seemed to be virtually deserted; their infrared scanners showed all the outer barracks to be cold and empty, and the same was true for almost all the office complexes. The only area that had any indication of regular occupation was a heavily patrolled section in the middle of the base, the likely location of the expected missile silos. The area sheltered behind a twelve-foot high double barrier of electrified fence, topped with coils of razor wire. The corners of the inner compound had the obligatory watchtowers, complete with spotlights and guards with machine guns. Oddly enough, all their attention seemed to be focused inward, as if what happened to the rest of the base was of little or no concern to them. 'Either they're the most incompetent guards I've ever seen,' Colin thought, 'or someone has made it worth their while to ignore whatever goes on around these warehouses.'
While he was musing on the skill levels of their opponents Aislinn appeared at his elbow. "All the exterior guards have been neutralized. We've tracked the majority of the arms dealers to this office complex here," she indicated on a satellite photo of the base, "but David's and Guy's transponders are broadcasting from this large garage in the motor pool, here."
"Send in the recon team; we need to find out what guards there are in the motor pool, and whether or not Thailog is in there as well."
"What about the rest of these people?" she asked. "It won't be long until those guards are missed."
Colin studied the diagram for a moment. "Station the assault team to go in on command; if the guards are missed, or our own people are compromised, hit them at once. Otherwise, hold off until we have firm intelligence on Thailog's location as well as David's and Guy's whereabouts."
"If we start a firefight in here it's going to alert the guards in the inner compound," Aislinn warned.
"I've already thought of that. That compound only has one entrance, and it's gated. I've stationed two snipers on a rooftop across from it; one has a plasma rifle that will melt the hinges and locks on the gates so they won't swing open, the other has a .50BMG Barnett rifle that will shatter the engine block of any vehicle they try to use to smash through. That should slow them down enough to give our teams time to get clear." He shook his head as Aislinn started to voice other objections. "I know it's not perfect, but it's the best we can do in the time we have."
Broadway and Angela soared across the night sky, the muted roar of their jetpacks providing a relaxing counterpoint to the tension of their mission.
The big blue gargoyle glanced over at his mate. Angela looked both competent and dangerous in the outfit Colin had provided; a black bodysuit of the bulletproof fabric developed by Xanacorp, matte black kevlar greaves and vambraces, and a modified back-and-breastplate that incorporated the jet booster while still allowing freedom to use her wings. Her long, sable hair was tightly braided and coiled on top of her head to keep from singeing it off in the exhaust of the jetpack. A laser rifle, disturbingly similar to the one her mother favored, completed her equipment.
Broadway's outfit was somewhat simpler. The fabricators of his bodysuit had underestimated his bulk, resulting in an uncomfortably snug fit. He corrected that with the aid of a laser cutting tool, trimming off the arms and legs of the suit and using the leftover scraps to fashion a couple of crude gussets in the resultant sleeveless tunic. The greaves and vambraces fit well enough, but the back-and-breast also required some modification before he could wear it comfortably. Finally, he chose to do without any additional firepower; serious as the situation was, he could not overcome his aversion to any type of firearm that had been part of him since that awful night when he accidentally shot Elisa.
As they approached the base his transceiver began demanding his attention. "Broadway here," he said, activating the transmitter.
"Broadway, it's Colin. We have a fix on our missing friends. Are you carrying the portable tracer?"
He glanced at the small screen attached to the inside of his left vambrace. "Yeah, I've got it." He tapped the activation switch with one talon. "I'm picking up their signals, too."
"Recon has them located inside the two-story parking garage of the base's motor pool," Colin replied. "We need you and Angela to land on the roof and find a way down into the building; all the ground entrances are too heavily guarded to risk entering that way, at least until we have some idea of the situation inside."
"Got it," Broadway acknowledged. "Angela and I will call you back as soon as we have anything."
Aislinn cut in on the circuit. "Make it fast, you two; we're rapidly running out of time here."
Thailog turned from his gloating with a snarl as one of his mercenaries entered the garage. "What do you want?" he snapped in Russian.
"Alexandreyvitch, the base commandant is still refusing to give us access to his computers; without access we cannot confirm the inventories in the silos," the man reported.
The talons of Thailog's one good hand dug gouges in the armor of the battle tank he stood next to. "Remind him again what good friends we've been, and what terrible enemies we could be." He grimaced as he fought off another wave of coughing. "If that's not enough, kill one of his children -- his youngest daughter should do nicely ..."
David and Guy watched silently as the mercenary left the garage. "Once you have access to their computers, what then?" Xanatos asked, his faced schooled into a bland expression.
Thailog glanced sharply at him, then said smugly, "Then I upload the virus I designed; it will deactivate all the safety protocols on the missiles and transfer their control to me. Then it's only a matter of reprogramming their guidance systems to the correct targets ... *my* targets." He began limping over to the computer set up on a desk in the middle of the floor. "When the entire Eastern Seaboard disappears in a radioactive haze, the United States will have no alternative but to retaliate. That, in turn, will bring everyone else into the game. I would imagine that by dawn all life on this misbegotten planet should be well on its way to extinction." Suddenly Thailog's head snapped around, the scarred stumps of his ears straining forward.
The crackling of automatic weapons fire cut through the night.
"GodDAMNit!" Colin cursed as tracers stitched the wall above his head. A quick burst from his own weapon silenced his attacker. "Assault Team One, what's your situation?" he shouted into his headset, moving forward in a crouch.
"Team One Leader here; we've stopped a breakout from the office complex, but they're dug in too well to root them out without taking heavy losses. What are your orders?"
"Keep them pinned down for now; with any luck that'll be enough." Colin switched frequencies. "Sniper One and Two, report!"
"Sniper One here; gate is out of commission. No attempt to open it yet, but there's a lot of activity over there."
"Sniper Two here; in position and ranged on the gate. They try to force it open and I'll stop them."
"Copy, Sniper One and Two. Maintain position." He switched channels again. "All right, Recon One, report. What the hell happened?"
Aislinn's voice crackled back from the headset. "Sorry, Colin; two of my team stumbled across a group of about a dozen mercs returning to the base. They didn't have a chance to silence them before the bad guys started shooting. That's what set all the others off."
Colin sighed. "All right, it couldn't be helped. What's the status now?"
"The original group of mercs scattered; some are trying to make it to the offices, the rest are playing cat-and-mouse with our people. I have part of the Recon Team trying to track them down, those that aren't concentrating on the motor pool."
"What's the situation there?"
"Not good," Aislinn admitted. "The whole building's fortified, and the mercs are holding all the ground entrances. It looks like it's up to our 'specialists'."
"Got it." He adjusted frequencies again. "Broadway, Angela; how close are you?"
"We're overhead now," Broadway's voice replied. "Who's shooting up the place?"
"A group of the mercs stumbled across our people," Colin explained. "The situation's going sour in a hurry. We can't wait to confirm Thailog's presence; you and Angela have to hit the motor pool now, before someone decides to shoot David and Guy out of hand." If they haven't already, he didn't add.
"Okay, Colin, we're going in now," Broadway replied. He waved at Angela and pointed at the roof of the building that was their target. She nodded her understanding and the pair folded their wings and dove out of the sky.
"Joseph! Piotr! Report! What's happening out there?" Thailog demanded, pounding the console next to the radio with his good hand.
"We are under attack by an unidentified force numbering at least two dozen, if not more, Alexandreyvitch," the radio replied. "None of our guard stations are responding; we must assume they have been eliminated."
"Contact the base commandant; tell him we need assistance dealing with these intruders!"
"I have already tried that, Alexandreyvitch," his lieutenant replied. "The commandant says he cannot risk involvement in a 'factional fight' between competitors." The sound of automatic weapons fire interrupted the transmission for a moment. "I believe he hopes we will be eliminated and whoever replaces us will be more generous in their arrangements with him."
Thailog cursed. "He will pay for his short-sightedness. Very well; I will summon our forces outside the base; when they arrive we will catch these intruders between us and crush them. Hold your ground until then."
"As you say, Alexan--" the transmission ended abruptly as a tremendous explosion rocked the entire base.
Colin flinched as the blast wave rolled over his position. Looking up he saw a monstrous fireball of burning debris rising from the site of the office complex. "Mother of God," he breathed, awestruck by the violence of the detonation. He didn't know what had triggered the blast, a gas leak or perhaps a munitions dump ignited by the firefight; he just hoped none of his own people were caught in it. A quick look through his starlight binoculars confirmed there was nothing left of the mercs' stronghold but a smoking crater.
Broadway instinctively crouched as the explosion shook the motor pool to its foundations. He stared at the rising column of smoke and flame that marked the site of the detonation. "Whoa," he said, "that's gonna spoil someone's day."
"Broadway, over here," Angela called from beside one of the large vent turbines that dotted the roof. "What do you think?" she asked after he stalked over to her, pointing out the flimsy bolts securing the turbine to its housing.
"Looks good to me," he agreed, adding his grip to hers. They waited for the next burst of weapons fire to cover the noise and ripped the turbine loose.
Thailog glared out the window at the destruction of his plans. When explosion shook the building he had suspected the worst and rushed to this upper floor office where the view confirmed his fears; somehow the stockpile of plastic explosive awaiting shipment to the Tamil insurgents on Sri Lanka had detonated, in the process wiping out most of his remaining lieutenants and their subordinates. He would have to regroup and try again, and he didn't know if his deteriorating condition would give him time. 'At least my fathers will not survive me' he decided, turning over different methods of patricide in his mind.
Broadway and Angela crouched in the rafters of the motor pool, planning their attack. Their vantage point gave them a clear field of view of the entire garage floor. Two mercs crouched by the room's one standard door, sending sporadic bursts of fire into the night. A second pair stood over the chained figures of Xanatos and Guy, their weapons trained casually on the two prisoners. Using hand gestures Broadway directed Angela to take out the two standing guard while handled the pair by the door. She smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then gathered herself to leap. Broadway nodded and they dropped together, restraining the normal gargoyle impulse to roar their challenge as they descended on their foes.
The two by the door had only an instant's warning before a quarter-ton of angry blue gargoyle slammed into them, disarming them and driving them into the wall and rendering them instantly unconscious. He glanced up in time to see Angela sweep the feet out from under the second of her targets, finishing him up with a punch to the jaw that dropped him like a puppet with its string cut.
Broadway activated his transceiver. "Colin, it's Broadway; Xanatos and Guy are safe."
"Thank the Gods," Colin replied. "Any sign of Thailog?"
"Nothing yet," Broadway replied, kicking the door open. "You want to tell whoever's out there that we're in charge in here? I want to toss the trash out and I don't want someone blowing my head off for my trouble."
"Already done, Broadway; recon reports what's left of the mercs are retreating from the base. I'll send you some backup in a few minutes."
"No hurry," Broadway said as he dragged the incapacitated mercs out the door and dumped them in a trash bin. As he returned to the building to dispose of their guns he heard Guy's strained shout, followed by a crash. Rushing through the door he was greeted by a sight that filled him with horror; Thailog, twisted and scarred, standing over an unconscious Angela with a spike-tipped staff pressed against her throat.
Thailog looked down at Angela and then at Guy straining against his chains, and laughed. "So, Father, it seems your people *are* responsible for my little setback." He used the pointed tip of his staff to shove Guy back to the floor. "I don't know how they tracked you here, since my technicians assured me that any possible tracer would be blocked, but I suppose that no longer matters." He smothered another bout of coughing and spat a stream of blood on the floor.
He had been about to step out of the stairwell that led from the upstairs offices when he saw Broadway and Angela swoop down on his men. Thailog watched in silent rage as his last chance for revenge turned to ashes, only to have the embers flare up when he saw Broadway drag the battered bodies of the mercs out of the garage. He waited, gauging his actions, until Angela turned her back to the door, then stepped out and swung his staff in a flat arc. The butt connected with the side of her head, the awkwardness of the blow combined with the thick braid of her hair keeping her skull from shattering. With a groan she collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Thailog smiled at the two men he called 'father'. "It seems the time to complete my goals will be denied me. Too bad; it was such an elegant idea." He turned back to the figure slumped on the floor and used his staff to flip her over. "She is very lovely, isn't she?" he asked conversationally as Guy strained against the manacles until blood ran down his wrists. "I'm very glad I got to see her again; it means all my plans aren't completely wasted."
"I've decided not to kill either of you, Father," Thailog said as he raised his staff and rested its point in the hollow of Angela's throat. "You will both suffer far more if you have to live with the memory of how you were only a few feet away, and still could not prevent her death." Guy groaned and thrashed in his chains as Thailog tensed his arm in readiness to ram the spike through Angela's bare throat.
There was a tremendous roar and Thailog's head jerked back, the rear of his skull exploding outward in a cloud of blood and brains. Xanatos and Guy watched in shock as Thailog's body collapsed backward, his staff slipping from fingers that no longer had any driving will behind them. Their gaze shifted in the direction the sound had come from.
Broadway stood by the doorway, an Israeli-made Desert Eagle pistol grasped in his talons, a thin wisp of smoke trailing from its .50 caliber bore. He slowly walked across the floor of the garage, gun still gripped in his hands, and stood over the shattered body of the clone and the gently breathing form of his mate.
Xanatos and Guy held their breath as Broadway stared dazedly at his handiwork. Finally he shook himself out of his trance and, after a moment's hesitation, flung the matte-black handgun across the room. He reached over and snapped the chains restraining his leader and the businessman, then bent and scooped Angela from the floor. He stood there, cradling her protectively in his arms, as Xanatos and Guy rose to their feet. Guy looked at the corpse in its spreading pool of gore, its limbs still twitching faintly as the body slowly accepted its death, then turned to the big gargoyle. Broadway met Guy's eyes unflinchingly, the glazed look in his eyes giving way to a resoluteness that was somehow both self-assured and haunted at the same time, and said, "*No one* harms my mate."
***
Guy gazed out the window of the jetliner at the broad expanse of the Atlantic, the book in his hands forgotten.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Xanatos asked as he sat down opposite him.
Guy chuckled "With all your billions, surely you can afford more than that," he replied.
"You don't *acquire* all those billions without learning to avoid excess expenses."
"In that case ..." Guy held out his hand.
Xanatos laughed and dug out a quarter. "Keep the change," he said expansively.
Guy flipped the coin in the air before pocketing it, his momentary good humor fading as his eyes came to rest on Broadway and Angela sitting together further down the compartment. The two were enjoying their last few hours of daylight before surrendering the talismans that postponed their sleep, talking and cuddling as was the way of newly mated couples regardless of their species.
Xanatos followed the direction of Guy's look, his eyes narrowing a little. "I think they make a good couple," he ventured, trying to draw his friend out.
"I agree," Guy replied quietly, returning his attention to the magnate. "That is not what concerns me." He sighed as Xanatos' quizzical expression invited him to continue. "For all his experience as a warrior, Broadway has never killed before; for his first kill to be a gargoyle, even one as twisted and dangerous as Thailog ... I worry that it will affect him adversely." He shifted forward in his seat, lowering his voice still more. "And the fact that he used a gun to do it ... ever since his carelessness almost cost Elisa her life, Broadway has loathed guns."
Xanatos shrugged. "I think you're chasing shadows, Guy," he said. "Broadway has a level head on his shoulders; he's not going to let any of this get to him. And even if he did, he has someone else now to help keep him in line. Trust me, there's nothing like the civilizing influence of a good woman -- especially one that can toss you across the room if she needs to!
"As to the gun, well, Elisa has tried to tell him often enough that guns themselves aren't evil, just the way they're sometimes used. Maybe it will finally sink in." He rose, putting a reassuring hand on Guy's shoulder. "Well keep an eye on him if it makes you feel better, but I wouldn't worry too much about it."
"We shall see," Guy said quietly as Xanatos moved off.
***
His stone skin exploding outward in a thousand fragments, Goliath roared his greeting to the onset of night. 'By all the gods,' he thought, 'it is *good* to be myself again!'
"Hey, Big Guy," a familiar, much-loved voice said.
"Elisa!" Goliath cried. leaping down from his perch and enfolding her in his embrace. He had been disappointed on their return to discover she had been called out of town on a case; the tight knot of fear he felt whenever she was beyond his protection eased as he felt her once again in his arms.
"Whoa, easy, Goliath!" she laughed as he lifted her up and kissed her. "What has you so frisky tonight?"
"Only you, my love, only you," he replied, setting her back on her feet but still holding her close.
Elisa sighed and relaxed into his embrace. "Careful, that's the kind of talk that sweeps a girl off her feet -- hey!" she exclaimed as he took her words for a cue and scooped her up, springing off the parapet and out over the city.
"I have missed this," he explained as she made herself comfortable in his arms. "being human has its advantages, but I am first and foremost a gargoyle; soaring like this with you, my love, is all that I ever dared hope for."
"I know, Goliath, I missed you, too." They glided through the night for a while, silently enjoying the brisk air and the warm pleasure of being together again. Finally Goliath noticed Elisa smothering a shiver despite the warmth of his embrace and turned his path towards home.
As they circled the towers of Castle Wyvern Elisa glimpsed another couple, their forms still locked in stone sleep. "Say, isn't that --?"
"Broadway and Angela," Goliath confirmed, landing next to the embracing statues. His eyes softened as he looked on his daughter's sleeping face. "They have declared themselves to be mated."
"I could've guessed," Elisa said wryly, taking in the relaxed, comfortable pose the statues shared.
Goliath sighed. "I hope they will be happy together," he said, his mood shifting as he recalled the events of the previous week.
"Why shouldn't they be?" Elisa asked. "Broadway's a big teddy bear; if you weren't around, I might have given him a fling myself," she teased, then frowned as she failed to get a rise from him. "Something really is bothering you, Goliath," she said. "Come on, out with it."
Finally, he relented and told her of the events leading up to Thailog's death, including Broadway's part in it and his worries about its consequences. After he finished Elisa approached Broadway's stone form and looked more closely, seeing for the first time the strain captured in Broadway's features by the revealing magic of stone sleep. Looking in turn at Angela, she was unsurprised to see the deep love the she-gargoyle felt for her mate captured in her features, but in addition there was a fierce protectiveness reflected in her stance, in the way her arms encircled Broadway's neck and her wings flared as if to shelter him. Elisa had already experienced first-hand how intensely gargoyles felt the need to defend those they loved; now she was seeing that same emotion directed at Broadway by his mate.
She turned back to face Goliath's concerned expression. "I have to agree with Xanatos, Goliath -- now *there's* a first!" she blinked, momentarily distracted.
"What I mean to say is, whatever problems Broadway has over what happened, Angela won't let him face them alone. For that matter, neither Brooklyn nor Lexington are going to let him get away with anything; mated or not, they're still the Trio." She looked up at Goliath's still-troubled features and thought for a moment longer, then snapped her fingers.
"Tell you what, Big Guy; if anyone is going to get a rise out of Broadway where guns are concerned, it's going to be me. After all, it was the accident with my gun that sort of set this all in motion in the first place.
"Once they finish their nap I'll corner him and draw him out, find out what's going on in his head; I'm the one person he can't hide from on this issue, and he knows it. I'll make sure he's okay, and if he isn't, between Angela and myself we'll make sure he gets any help that he needs. That good enough?"
"More than 'good enough', my Elisa," Goliath smiled. "You are a true member of the clan, as wise as you are beautiful."
Elisa blushed for a moment, still flustered by the intensity with which Goliath expressed his feelings. "It all goes with the territory, Big Guy," she said at last, draping her arms once more around his neck. He wrapped his wings about her and she nuzzled into their warm embrace, secure in knowing that so long as they were together, all was right with the world.
***
Colin smiled as Aislinn, restored to her true form, entered his office. "Everything back to normal?" he asked.
Aislinn sighed and shook her head. "I'm worried about Caitrin; she doesn't usually take it so hard when she has to give up her gargoyle form."
"Well, it could be there's a new element this time," Colin remarked. At Aislinn's quizzical expression he continued. "I think Brooklyn made quite an impression on her."
"I was afraid of that," Aislinn admitted. "It wouldn't be so bad if there were more people at home in her age group." She sat down next to him on the couch and slipped her arms around his waist. "I just wish there was something we could do."
"You know the clan law," Colin cautioned. "'No change of form may be permanent, lest Nature be undone.'"
"I know, but it's so unfair," Aislinn protested. "It's not her fault she was born human!"
***
Xanatos watched the sky lighten as the clan assumed their perches. His gaze drifted outward, coming to rest on the mirrored monolith of Caledon Rising, its glass surface turning to fire as the first rays of sunrise crossed the horizon. An interesting month, he mused. A potential rival become an ally, an old enemy destroyed, a new marriage begun. He never could have imagined where his decision to revive the gargoyles would lead him, or the changes they would wreak in his life. He thought of Fox, still asleep in their bed, and his son Alexander, resting peacefully in the nursery. 'If anyone had ever told me what having a family would mean to me,' he thought, 'I wouldn't have believed them.'
He turned to leave the ramparts, pausing for a moment to look up at Goliath's snarling visage. "One thing's certain, my friend," he said, clapping a hand on Goliath's stone knee, "life will never be boring as long as you're around!"
THE END
***
Well, I hope you enjoyed reading my first efforts at fanfiction as much as I enjoyed writing it. Next time: what is Caitrin's secret, and how can Clan Manhattan help her? And what happens when an old gargoyle learns a few new tricks?
Send feedback to: fenris@phnx.uswest.net