Between heaven and hell.., p.10
Between Heaven and Hell 2, page 10
“I’ll meet with them, and you’ll be in the building,” I said. “No weapons will make things more difficult, but we’ll have the place secured and the exits covered.”
“And if he doesn’t come alone?”
“Then we adapt.”
Harrington pulled us into the parking lot of a hardware store.
“I don’t like it. But we asked you to get her out, and if she shows then you’ll have held up your end of the bargain. I’d rather not turn this into a bloodbath, though, if it’s all the same to you.”
Jasmine passed me cash in British pounds from the back seat. Harrington and I swept through the hardware store, past a sleepy clerk who barely looked at us, and we picked up a handful of supplies. Folding knives weren’t on the menu, but I found a few cans of spray-paint. I added duct tape to our basket. Harrington bought an ax-handle. I collected a spool of fishing wire and a pair of waterproof radio units.
The clerk took our money, a healthy tip, and didn’t ask questions.
Downton was a sleepy little town with old houses and high hedgerows. I found a small pub that suited our purposes and the girls sprang into action. Harrington spoke privately with the owner in the back room while I scouted out the area around the drinking-house. It was on a small side street with two main ways in and out.
The back door led out to a tight little alley that cut off escape.
The main door led out to the street. Breeze followed me around the edges of the pub. She fidgeted a little and couldn’t stop glancing at passersby as they passed by with curious looks. The two of us stood out amongst the older gentry of the town.
“What are you looking for?” Breeze asked.
“I’m looking for ways in and out. The parking is limited, which means that they’re not going to be able to get an entire army in here without us noticing,” I said. “One entry, one exit, and a single potential killbox.”
“What’s Harrington doing?”
“My guess is that he’s making friends with the owners. Probably flashing a badge and saying something about how important it is that the pub’s empty for national security.” I kept up my pace as I moved to the head of the street. “I don’t know if paint is the right way to go, but how would you set up a circle here?”
“It’s better than nothing,” Breeze said. “I think the locals will probably start hunting us with pitchforks if I start spraying paint on the street, though.” Her eyes flickered over the street around us. “I could try linked circles. It’s a little safer, but if I get my math wrong, it’s going to channel a whole lot of angelic magic straight into the Iron Depths.”
“Which would light the entire place up worse than New Zealand. How do linked circles work?”
Breeze pointed to a fence across the street from us. A wide green field rolled out beyond it. She scooped a spraycan out of the satchel at her side and started shaking it.
“Have you ever seen voodoo stuff on TV before?”
“You mean with the dolls that look like people and exert control over them?”
“Exactly like that,” Breeze nodded. “I can create linked circles. Think of it like a tunnel. I can move energy from one side to another. If he throws anything around, I can remotely access the circle he’s in.”
“And if he pushes anything through it?”
“If it’s moving in my direction, I can siphon it through to me. I think.” Breeze stared back at the pub for a second. “Let’s hope the owner doesn’t mind me painting his floor. Keep an eye out for me?”
I nodded. Breeze stepped off the sidewalk, walked quickly to the end of the street, and vaulted easily over the fence. She found a spot behind a ten-foot hedge and crouched onto the ground. I kept my eyes moving to make sure nobody had noticed her. Breeze tore up grass from her hidden spot and sprayed paint into a perfect circle behind the hedge.
Jasmine appeared beside me halfway through the process.
“My love,” she murmured. “How are you feeling?”
A reluctant smile touched my face.
“I’m invested. And annoyed. That Charlie guy almost knocked me over with nothing more than a bit of magical juice and some bad vibes.”
“But you fought through it,” Jasmine reminded me.
“I did. Maybe I am just lucky.”
Her fingers curled into mine.
“Of course you are. You have me.”
I kissed her cheek.
“Keep an eye on Breeze for me.” I dug the two-way radio unit out of my pocket and handed it to her. “This is for you. We’ll use phones if we have to, but it’s just a failsafe in case things go to shit.”
She took it with a smile.
“I’ll talk to her about us. See how she feels.”
“You do that and she might lose her focus.”
“It was a joke,” Jasmine said with a laugh.
“I know you better than that.”
Jasmine squeezed my hand tighter.
“We all need a little incentive sometimes,” she whispered.
Breeze joined us a minute later.
“What’s the situation with the pub?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” I said.
I left Jasmine with Breeze and tracked back up the narrow lane to the pub’s entrance. Three scowling patrons wandered out of it and gave me a filthy look as I wove through them and stepped inside. The place smelled of old carpet and stale beer. Old-school rock music pounded out of an ancient jukebox in the corner. Harrington leaned over the bar and spoke to a sweating old guy with a balding pate.
“Who the fuck is there?” he demanded.
“Making friends already, I see,” I said.
“He understands the stakes,” Harrington assured me. “Sir, you understand the delicacy of the situation. I’m going to need three things from you. First, we’re going to redecorate a little. Second, you’re going to put me in behind the bar and lock yourself in the back on my signal. Third, I want you to call the number I told you. They’ll verify everything that I said.”
The barman muttered curses under his breath and gestured sharply for Harrington to follow him. I switched on the twin of Jasmine’s radio in my pocket.
“You’re clear to come in, Breeze.”
The occultist appeared in the pub a few minutes later. She scanned the open space with a mathematician’s eye and started shaking her spraycan again. Harrington appeared from the back of the pub. His turtleneck had vanished in favor of a faded button-up shirt and a clean apron. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.
“Beer?” he offered. “It’ll take the edge off your nerves.”
“Why not,” I said.
Harrington whipped a glass out from under the bar with practiced ease and poured me out a perfect pint with barely any foam. He pushed it over the bar to me.
“Ten quid,” he said in a businesslike tone.
I pushed him the money with an impressed grunt.
“Either they upped their undercover training in the OGI, or you’ve spent more time in these places than you have out in the field.”
“Let’s say both and call it even.”
Breeze stepped out lines over the carpet in the corners and muttered to herself as she went. I settled back against the bar to watch her work. Harrington leaned down to watch her with curious eyes.
“She’s green,” he said quietly.
“You haven’t seen her work,” I reminded him.
“That’s true,” Harrington admitted. “But I don’t think she’s cut out for this.”
I didn’t reply.
“Ask you something?”
“Depends. Are you recording everything I say?”
“Listen, that was for the operation, mate.”
“Give me your phone, then.”
Harrington sighed.
He held it up to show me that it wasn’t recording. I knew enough about satellite to figure that we were still under someone’s eye, but I would’ve taken the same precautions if the operation was going on inside the States.
I took it from him and sipped my beer.
“Ask away,” I said.
“How’d you get out?” he asked.
“I got shot in the head.”
“No, seriously.”
“I’m being serious. The Wellness Center cut me loose because I was balls-deep in enemy territory. Jasmine got me stable after that and I died.”
“And Bull found you again.”
“He’s got a way of doing that.”
Breeze scooped up a coaster, and started using it to cut off the stream of paint from her can. She drew a razor-thin line around the very edges of the pub. It was barely noticeable against the carpet.
“Would you do it again?” Harrington asked. “Get out of the game, I mean?”
“Is this work starting to grind you down?”
He smiled. “Nah. Just curious as to who I’m dealing with. You and Jasmine are legends amongst some of the scariest people on the planet. I didn’t buy the fact that you were dead, and I’m wondering what it takes to win your loyalty.”
“Are you thinking about poaching me?”
Harrington laughed.
“Let’s say it like this. You and your little crew here keep things interesting.”
Chapter 12
Breeze finished her circle ten minutes later and joined me at the bar.
“Sparkling water with lemon,” she said. “Make it quick.”
Harrington had it to her in under a minute.
I paid for the drink.
“I can barely see your work,” I said. “It’s excellent.”
“Of course it is. I did it.” Breeze took a long sip at her water. “I left out the pentagram. The math is too hard to do and it’ll be easier to see. As it is, I think I can work with whatever they push through it.”
She eyed Harrington.
“Are you two going to be alright in here by yourselves?”
“I like our chances,” I said. “Can you do me a favor? Take the car and put some gas into it. Park it just outside of your spot on the hedgerow. If things get spooky, I want to make sure that you can come and get us in a hurry.”
Breeze finished her drink and nodded.
“I’m on it.”
She took the keys from Harrington and left the two of us alone in the bar.
“She’s a hell of a girl,” Harrington said.
“She’s taken,” I said.
“Didn’t look that way to me this morning, mate.”
I turned to look at him and smiled.
Harrington got the message quickly enough.
“You can’t fault a fella for trying.”
“You can’t,” I agreed.
The Brit checked his watch.
“We’re ahead of schedule.”
The burner phone buzzed in my pocket.
“You had to go and say it,” I muttered.
I answered the call from an unknown number.
“Mr. Brown, I presume.” The accent was smooth, top-shelf British by way of London. “It’s my understanding that we’re all in a situation here.”
“Who am I talking to?” I asked.
“Father Bradford,” the voice replied.
“Father as in the Father of the Family?”
I heard the smile in his voice.
“The very same. I wanted to apologize for Charlie’s behavior earlier this morning. He’s always been a little impulsive, and I’m afraid he hasn’t properly learned the virtue of patience.”
“Apology accepted. I’ve been told I bring out the worst in people.”
“That’s a product of your training, Mr. Brown, not your inner self.”
“I asked for Cal.”
“You did,” Bradford replied. “Charlie told you that he was on mission, and it’s true. He’s unfortunately indisposed. I decided that it’d be best if we met in person, at a time and place of your choosing. Charlie told me that you wanted to meet in Downton?”
Harrington listened intently to the call. I handed him his phone, and he started to type a rapid message into it. I kept my breathing steady and my emotions locked firmly behind the steel walls that I’d built up over years of training.
“That’s right.”
“I daresay that you’ve already informed your friends in low places about our meeting. I want you to understand that I bear you no ill will. Quite the opposite, in fact. I harbor a deep respect for you and the sacrifices that you’ve made for your country.”
“If you mean well, then we can talk this out.”
“I want your word that you’ll offer me and my companions no harm when we arrive to speak with you,” Bradford said. “Your sworn word. I’ll bring Audrey, as you asked, although I’m rather curious about how you know about her.”
“All will be revealed in time,” I said.
“And here I was thinking you were an agnostic.”
His laugh was deep and infectious.
“Aren’t we all looking for a reason to believe?”
“Well, that’s very true. I thought I’d do you the courtesy of telling you that Audrey and I will not be the only Family meeting with you. I understand, given your past, that you can be rather jumpy when things don’t go according to plan.”
The subtle inference of knowledge of my previous missions was damn slick.
“You’re right about that,” I told him. “How many?”
“Five. My congregation is concerned that you intend to kill me. I think you’ll see the light, but they won’t let me meet with you in person unless they’re present and I have your sworn word.”
I thought about how easily this could backfire in my face.
“You have it,” I said.
“I’d like to hear you say it, if it’s all the same to you.”
“You have my sworn word that I will do you and your people no harm, physical or supernatural,” I said, my words firm and clear. “You can record that and play it back, if you’d like.”
Another laugh.
“We’ll be arriving in a little under half an hour, Mr. Brown. Where would you like us to meet?”
I gave him the name of the pub.
“I’ll be waiting,” I said. “I appreciate the courtesy call.”
“The pleasure was mine,” he assured me.
I clicked off the call.
“How do you like the chances of them being able to trace the call?” Harrington asked.
“Pour me another beer.”
Harrington did just that, and I dropped the burner straight into the glass. Beer overflowed onto the bar. I got back onto the radio, updated Jasmine, and swept my eyes over the pub for the best place to get a seat. My eyes came to rest on a small cluster of chairs in the back corner.
“You like your back to the wall?” Harrington asked.
“I’m not going to be fighting them, am I?”
“I’d like to point out that he didn’t offer you any of the same assurances, mate. And given that I’m all the way back here, it’s going to be hard for me if they decide they want to punch your ticket.”
“Then we’re relying on their goodwill and love of peace and happiness,” I said.
Harrington’s Citroen rolled past the pub ten minutes later and vanished down the street toward the hedgerows. I tossed the radio to Harrington and took a fresh pint with me to my chosen seat. The Greyhound wiped down the bar and set about polishing glasses. I kept my eyes moving, my breathing steady, and focused on clearing my mind.
I knew that I was going to need it after the psychic whammy I’d taken earlier that day.
Three white cars pulled up outside the pub exactly at the time that the Father of the Family had given me. I sipped my beer and focused on the taste of it. I’d walled myself into a location with no easy weapons to hand. I’d given my word, and I wasn’t usually a guy to break it unless I was under life-threatening pressure.
The front door of the pub opened.
Two men strode straight into the main room.
They were tall, filled-out athletic types that reminded me of football players. They shared broken noses and scarred knuckles and wore simple white clothes that marked them as part of the Family. Their eyes settled on Harrington.
“He’s over there,” my partner-in-crime said in a nervous tone.
He cringed away from them as they passed by the bar. One went straight for the back of the pub and the other swept the bathrooms. The two bruisers checked the corners of the bar again. The moves didn’t scream of tactical acumen.
They were bodyguards. Not trained hitters.
One of them pulled out a chair, flipped it around, and settled down five yards away from me. The other guy vanished outside to the small fleet of cars outside. I sipped my beer and said nothing.
“Weapons,” the big guy said.
“I’ve got nothing on me,” I told him.
“I need to check,” he said.
“I’m happy to do a pat-down if it’ll make you feel better,” I said.
He jerked his head to the wall to my right. I eased myself up to my feet. He did a rapid, rough search over my clothes and didn’t come up with anything except a clip of cash and my falsified passport.
The guy checked my ankles, grunted, and let out a piercing whistle.
Another whistle rolled back in from outside.
Bruiser No. 2 led two more people into the pub.
An elderly man with broad shoulders and a noble posture caught my eye.
A trimmed white beard hid a vicious scar rolling down the side of his face and past a clerical collar. His clothes were white, trimmed with blue, and his hands were empty. A craggy set of features settled on me, and blue eyes sparkling with humor met mine.
Audrey Burns trailed in behind him.
Some women had a subtle, glowing beauty about them that they could hide when they wanted to. Jasmine could shield her looks with a little effort and changed body language. Audrey did neither. Deep red hair rolled down in a pair of braids behind her. A girlish spray of freckles dotted her nose and did absolutely nothing to mar her features.
She wore a simple white t-shirt, white jeans, and sneakers.
And I could’ve sworn that she’d just walked off a model’s runway.
Audrey slid past Harrington like he wasn’t even there. A warm calm radiated out from her and matched the fatherly aura of the Father. The pair made their way over to me without hurry. The Father kept his hands out of his pockets to show me that they were clear. A small blue crystal hung from a simple leather braid around his wrist.
