John Miller - Death Draws Five

After a moment, it opened a crack. A small, neatly dressed man peered out. He cleared his throat. “Yes?” he asked.

“We’re here for the boy,” Nighthawk said.

“Boy?”

Nighthawk smiled. “John Fortune. There’s no sense standing behind the door. We can take it down in an instant, if we have to.”

The man seemed to think for a moment, then opened it all the way. “I’m Digger Downs,” he said as Nighthawk came in. “Reporter for Aces! You’re?”

“Anonymous,” Nighthawk said as he entered the suite.

Downs started to close the door, but Usher, followed by Magda and then Blood and his handler, pushed by. “Hey—“ Downs began, then fell silent when he saw the weapons Usher and Magda carried, and the look on Magda’s face. Nighthawk knew that Downs really wanted to say something when he caught sight of Blood, but he kept his mouth shut.

Nighthawk looked around the room. “Where’s the boy?” he asked.

“He was here—”

Nighthawk looked Downs in the eye. “It’s better you bring the boy out than we go looking for him.”

Magda jacked a round into her automatic shotgun for emphasis.

“Hey,” Downs said, “if it was up to me—ah, Fortunato.”

Nighthawk recognized him as he came out of one of the bedrooms. He was tall, thin, and light-skinned. Energy shimmered the air around him like heat waves in a desert. Blood, who had strange senses of his own, whimpered at the sight of him, and cowered behind his handler’s legs. If I drained him, Nighthawk thought, I could keep going for another century. At least.

“You can’t have him,” Fortunato said flatly. “Unless you go through me.”

Magda brought her shotgun up with a cry of pure rage. Fortunato glanced at her, and she froze, literally, in mid-scream, her mouth open, face contorted, shotgun almost leveled.

“Impressive,” Nighthawk said. “How many minds can you handle at once?”

Nighthawk nodded at Usher.

“Dad—it’s all right.” John Fortune came from the same bedroom Fortunato had. He looked a little disheveled, a little frightened, but basically all right. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. I’ll go with them.”

Nighthawk smiled at him. “Good boy.”

Peaceable Kingdom: The Angels’ Bower, courtyard

Ray knew that the only thing that kept him from immediately being blown to shit and back by the Allumbrado gunmen was the fact that they’d blow Witness and Butcher Dagon along with him. He decided to stay nice and close to them.

Ray got in one lick on Dagon before the British ace could transform, an open-handed slap that split his lip and knocked him on his ass. Dagon transformed as he lay on the ground glaring at Ray, but was too wary to attack immediately. He and Witness circled Ray carefully. Out of the corner of his eye Ray could also see the gunmen creeping up and around him, also trying to encircle him. He realized that if they got close enough to aim carefully, he’d be in trouble.

Something the size and general shape of a softball whizzed by and struck one of the gunmen between the shoulder blades, knocking him flat. He didn’t get up. Almost immediately another chunk of stone from the shattered statue struck a second gunman in the chest. Instead of rebounding, it stuck there, squishily

Ray laughed. “Good girl, Angel,” he said.

Some of the Allumbrados fired at her, but she crouched low behind some of the bigger statue chunks, then popped up a moment later in another spot and let fly with another stone, taking most of another gunman’s head off.

The Witness suddenly turned and ran, heading for the lobby. Angel leaped up. A storm of gunfire knocked her to her feet. She was hit, Ray was sure, at least once.

“Angel!” he shouted.

“I’m okay! I’m going after him!” Ray watched her start to crawl back toward the lobby, carefully keeping to cover.

“Remember, Angel,” he called after her. “He’s afraid. He’s afraid of pain.” He looked at Dagon, grinning. “But I’m not.”

Dagon’s animal-like jaw slavered string-like lengths of drool.

Ray stood still, stretched like a cat, and grinned. He watched Angel slip into the lobby, get to her feet and run after the Witness, who had vanished up the staircase. He felt something pride, awe, and lust rush through his system. He suddenly realized that he was in love.

“Well,” he said to Dagon. Looks like it’s just us boys.”

Dagon gibbered something unintelligible.

“Let the fun began,” Ray said.

Peaceable Kingdom: The Angels’ Bower, Fortunato’s suite

Fortunato looked at the boy, frowning. John Fortune nodded almost imperceptibly as he went by him. Fortunato opened his mouth as if to speak, but held his peace.

“Let’s go,” John Fortune said.

Nighthawk looked at him. “You’re not glowing,” he said.

John Fortune shrugged. “I stopped doing that awhile ago.”

Nighthawk removed the glove from his left hand, and put his fingers out, almost on John Fortune’s face. Fortunato darted into the old man’s mind. He almost rebounded in surprise at what he saw there. Ancient power, tempered by wisdom and grace. He realized that Nighthawk meant them no harm.

Nighthawk’s hand dropped down and he smiled. “Nice try.”

“What?” John Fortune asked, bewildered.

“It’s no good, Jerry,” Fortunato said. “He knows.”

“What?” John Fortune said.

“That you’re the bodyguard,” Nighthawk said.

Jerry Strauss slumped. “It was worth a shot,” he said.

Nighthawk nodded. “I suppose.” He put his glove back on his left hand. “Now where’s the boy?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” Fortunato said with sudden hope that somehow Nighthawk, with all his strange powers, might be able to help his son.

Nighthawk looked at his troop. “Wait here,” he said. He paused, looking at Magda. “Take her gun away,” he told Usher. “I don’t want her to come to pissed and armed with an automatic shotgun.”

Usher nodded. “You’ll be all right?”

Nighthawk looked at Fortunato. Fortunato nodded.

“For now,” Nighthawk said.

They headed for the bedroom, the disguised Jerry Strauss following. Fortunato stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Thank you for trying to save my son.”

“It didn’t work,” Jerry said.

“This wasn’t the only time you tried. And succeeded.”

“It’s my job,” Jerry said. “But it was always a pleasure, as well.”

“This way,” Fortunato told Nighthawk, leading the way to the bathroom. The hippie was still with his son. He looked worriedly at Fortunato and the others.

“He’s getting hotter, man. I tried to help him, but there’s nothing I can do.”

Fortunato nodded. Nighthawk stared at John Fortune as he stood naked in the shower stall. His halo was an angry aura, flickering like rays from a tiny sun.

“John, are you okay?” Fortunato asked.

The boy shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m hotter. Now I can’t touch anything cloth without burning it.”

Fortunato swallowed hard.

“We need the Trump,” Jerry said. “But there’s no damn time.”

Nighthawk looked hard at the boy. John Fortune looked back at him. He seemed more puzzled than frightened, but Fortunato knew that he was putting the best face he could on his fear. He suddenly was very proud of his son. Very proud, and very frightened for him.

Nighthawk suddenly seemed to come to a decision. “Yes, there is,” he said.

Peaceable Kingdom: The Angels’ Bower courtyard

The Angel raced up the stairs, taking them as quickly as she could. At first that wasn’t too quick, as she smarted from the ricocheting slug that had bounced off her back and knocked her down and, she was sure, bruised her badly. But she couldn’t let a little thing like that stop her. By the time she reached the third floor she was taking the steps two at a time as she headed for Barnett’s office. She was sure that the Witness was after Barnett, and she wanted to head him off before he could harm The Hand.