“Because it’s an awesome story and it’s going to win me a Pulitzer?”
“What? No, you can’t write any of this,” I said to her.
“You know I’m no good with no.” She looked around the shop, leaning closer as if it would make a difference. “I don’t have to write it tomorrow, but someday. When you’re ready.” She gave me an exaggerated wink like we were co-conspirators.
“Right, okay. Well, I told you all this so you would understand how serious it is.” Here went nothing. “The other night six men came to your apartment to kill you. They were going to make it look like a suicide and leave a note—essentially discrediting everything you’ve ever written about ISO-1.”
I expected shock, or anger, or some kind of extreme emotion. Instead, she took a long drink of her caramel delight and smiled.
“Oh, is that all. Pshaw. Happens all the time. Though I had wondered about all the blood on the stairs the other day. Did he do that?”
Oh my God. This woman was bat-guano crazy. “Did you not hear what I just said?”
“Yep. Every word. How did he do it?”
I shook my head. Too stunned to understand why she wasn’t freaking out. Then again, I hadn’t when I killed them.
“He didn’t do it,” I said.
Her eyes went wide with surprise, then a slow smile spread across her lips.
“Sooo… even more interesting. Are you going to take over for him?”
I shook my head. “Not here. I have my own city that needs cleaning up. I do plan on wiping ISO-1 from the face of the Earth, though.”
She took out her phone and started typing as if we were in an interview. “Uh, what are you doing?”
She didn’t look up at me as she spoke. “Writing all this down while it’s fresh in my memory. When the time comes, I don’t want to get anything wrong.”
I shook my head again. “Krisan, you’re either very brave or very stupid.”
“You know what they say…,” she said letting her voice drift off.
“I don’t actually—”
“Oh, I was hoping you did. I’m sure someone has a saying for this kind of situation.” She shrugged and went back to typing on her phone.
The complete non-sequitur broke the bizarre spell that had me partially stunned. “Okay, cray-cray it is.”
“You say tomato, I say cornbread,” she said with a shrug.
“You’re not going to stop writing your stories, are you?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“How about you leave town for a couple of days?”
“Nope,” she said with a grin. “Would you?” She finally looked up at me with her big brown eyes and I realized she was right. I wouldn’t.
Then he walked in.
Chapter 22
I don’t think he saw me. If he did, he’s a better actor than I am. Reaching up, I slid my hood down as casually as I could, obscuring my face. Krisan continued to talk while I repositioned myself so I could reach behind me and pull the P-30. The funny thing was, all that fear and anger I felt upon seeing him earlier didn’t come back. Just a calm, cool reserve that allowed me to start planning my exit.
“Krisan—”
“Well, I was just saying that if we used fake names for your story—”
“Krisan,” I raised my voice just a little. She looked up at me sharply.
“What? Was I going on? I do that sometimes, it’s really annoying. My last boyfriend couldn’t stand—”
I reached up and put my finger to her lips. “I don’t want to alarm you, but the man who killed my little sister—” I tried not to let that choke me up, but it wasn’t possible, “—just entered the shop. I don’t think he’s here for me. As far as they know, I’m not in Detroit.” Over three months had passed since I fled New Orleans. My hair was shorter, I was bulkier, and he was middle eastern—to him, I would probably look like any other black woman… as long as he couldn’t see my face. So far, he wasn’t looking over here… so far.
I reached over and snatched her scarf, wrapping it around my face, covering my nose, mouth, and chin like some kind of fashionista bank robber.
“What are you doing?” Krisan asked in a hushed whisper.
“Taking precautions. If he knows it’s me, they’ll send a helluva lot more people here,” I said as I pulled the P-30 out and held it under the table. Millimeter by millimeter I moved my thumb releasing the safety without a sound. Then I pulled the hammer back until it clicked into place. With one round already in the chamber, the pistol was ready for work.
“We’re going to stand up,” I said to Krisan, “and walk past the bathrooms to the back door, then out to the alley. Once there we turn right, go fifty feet and we’re on the main street. Got it?”
“Can you say all of that again? I wasn’t paying attention because of the man over there who’s here to kill me!” Her eyes were so wide they dominated her face.
“What happened to this sort of thing happens all the time?” I asked.
“It’s one thing for people to threaten to kill you, another for them to show up and try,” she said.
“Stay calm. You lead the way but I’ll have my hand on your shoulder guiding you, okay?” Joseph and I had drilled that maneuver a hundred times. Guiding a package (that’s what he called them) out of a building with them in front so they couldn’t get a good look at you. “Now… stand up!”
She did, putting down a few dollars cash on the table and trying to pretend like everything was normal. Her facade slipped a little and she couldn’t help but look over at the man in the white suit.
He looked back. His sly smile spoke volumes.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
“Change of plans. He expects you to go out the back door,” I said. I didn’t really know that, but it felt right. I would do it. He was here to flush her out. Odds were good two guys with stun guns were waiting in the back alley.
I slipped around the table, keeping my head down, and putting one hand on her back near her neck, pushing her gently toward the front door. I tried to keep her head between us, so he couldn’t get a good look at me. Krisan stumbled and her head dipped, even with me hunched over she went farther than my face.
Our eyes met. There was no recognition in his. I didn’t like his smile though, it was the kind that said he knew more than me.
I shoved Krisan forward and whipped the pistol around. As soon as it lined up, I fired. The 9mm rounds were specially designed to fly at subsonic speeds. Low powered so they wouldn’t go through walls, and if I needed to silence them, I could. As I expected his body shimmered and the bullets exploded coffee cups behind him. Someone screamed, others shouted. It was of no consequence to me.
“Move!” I followed her out the door. It slammed shut behind us and Krisan fumbled with a trash can to block it.
“He can walk through walls”— I grabbed her arm, pulling her with me as I slid the pistol back into its concealed holster “—that won’t even slow him down and my gun won’t hurt him.” We stepped out into the road. More dragging her than leading, I dodged behind a bus and jogged across multiple lanes to the other sidewalk. If we could catch a bus, we could be ten miles away in fifteen minutes.
“Madi, he’s coming.” Her voice trembled with fear. I got that she was used to people threatening to kill her, but as we crossed the street I realized this might be the first time she was aware someone was actually trying to at that very moment.
I glanced behind us. Sure enough, the smiling son-of-a-bitch walked right through traffic, ignoring the blaring horns and screeching tires as cars passed right through him. “Move faster,” I told her as I broke into a run. The sidewalks were crowded and I ended up shoving people out of the way with one arm while dragging Krisan behind me with the other.
“Aren’t… we… safe… here?” Her heavy breathing broke up her sentences and I strained to hear her.
“No. He will just kill you and walk away. Unless your super-cops are gonna show, we’re on our own.”
I decided to head west and pray a bus came so we could hop on and escape. Joseph would be so pissed at me for using the word “hope” as part of a plan. What could I say? I hadn’t planned on coming down here and getting in a firefight. And that was my mistake from the beginning. A moment of perfect clarity fell on me. Never again would I have normal; never again would there be safe. No matter where I was, what condition I was in, or what I thought was going on, I would never be able to let my guard down again.
Assuming I survived my current predicament intact.
He was fifty feet away and there still wasn’t a bus coming. I could try pulling someone from a car, but that could take too long…
He can’t fly… he can only walk on solid surfaces…
“The building, move!” I pulled her in a ninety-degree turn heading right for the Detroit Free Press building.
“Won’t we be trapped?”
“He can’t fly, he can’t levitate, and in the building we can break line-of-sight and lose him.” We scrambled up the steps, through the front doors, and into the lobby. Krisan hit the button on the elevator—but who knew how long it would take to get here. I certainly didn’t want to be in a box he could get into. “Stairs,” I hissed. We took off at a run, slamming through the metal doors and hitting the stairs with as much speed as we could. Poor Krisan wasn’t up for this.
By the time we hit the third floor she was winded, dripping sweat, and her legs were shaking with strain. “Madi, I can’t keep this up,” she said.
I nodded. Truth be told, running upstairs wasn’t easy for anyone. I pushed through the third-floor door into a dark level. “What’s in here?”
“Storage, janitor supplies, that kind of thing. This used to be the editorial floor before we consolidated,” she said.
The central wing of the DFP building was wide open inside. Lines on the floor marked where walls used to stand, outlines of dust showed former cubicles—now it was just a large open room. There wasn’t anywhere to hide, but there were exits. I dragged her to the elevator. “Call it,” I said pushing her towards the buttons.
I whipped out my cell phone and called Joseph. If we could hold on until he could get here we would be okay.
“Madi?” Joseph asked as he picked up the phone.
“Hey, the man who killed my sister is here in Detroit and he’s hunting Krisan, they have us—”
“You’re with her?” he asked.
“Yeah, I wanted to warn her—”
“I told you not to do that,” he said. Joseph never quite expressed anger or other emotions, he always had a calm reserve that was unnerving at best of times. This was one of those times.
“Right, but I thought she should know but now it looks like they’re trying to take her out in broad daylight,” I told him. Stepping back, I checked the stairs; no activity. The elevator dinged like a bell at church. We piled in and she hit the top floor button. The doors slid shut and we both breathed a sigh of relief. “Can you come pick us up? I’ve lost him for now, but if it was me, I’d have this place crawling with goons.”
I heard him sigh over the phone. “Madisun,”—uh oh —”did it occur to you he’s trying to draw me out? He’s trying to lure me into a situation he controls as to take me out. He may or may not kill the reporter, but that isn’t his plan. I’m sorry, it’s up to you to escape.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I looked at the phone like it was a snake. “Is this a joke? Are you going to let them kill me?”
“If you’re the woman I think you are, you’ll be fine.”
“And Krisan?” I looked at her when I said her name. She looked back with dread building on her face.
“Probably not.”
“I’m not leaving her,” I said.
“Then you’ll die and all your training and sacrifice will be for not. Your sister will go unavenged and the reporter will die anyway. Your only real option is to ditch her and escape. I hope you make the right decision.”
“I’m not leaving her to die, Joseph, if I do that I’m no better than the bastards who are chasing us.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. I killed the call and stuffed the phone back in my pocket.
“Madi, you’re not going to leave me, are you?” she asked.
“No, not even a chance.” I dropped the mag out of the H&K into my pocket and slammed home the only other one I had. It left me with about twenty-five rounds total, my tactical blade, and a bad attitude.
Chapter 23
The Ghost smiled as he watched the elevator stop at the top floor. He turned to the four men with him. “You two, work your way up the west stairwell and clear every floor on the way up.” He turned to the other two. “You two, take the east stairwell to the top and clear each floor coming down. Don’t screw around—whoever is protecting her has a gun and they know how to use it. If you have a shot, take it.”
The four men nodded as one. They were hardened criminals all—murderers, rapists, the worst of the worst. He didn’t have to worry about them chickening out, only if they died. Not that he was worried if any of them died. It wasn’t like the Outfit paid out life insurance or something.
That thought made him chuckle as he watched the four men get to their task. When they were all gone, he took a fourth elevator to the basement. These old buildings had a lot of things in common; one of them was a central electrical panel. The doors opened, and he peeked his head out to make sure no one was waiting. It only took him a minute to find the panel. A key was required to open it, not that he needed one. He stuck his hand through the panel and flipped all the switches to the off position. Then he locked the elevators to the bottom floor. He had men with sniper rifles stationed outside; there was no escape here. If the African woman with the reporter was The Wraith, then she was dead. Though, he found it impossible to believe a mere woman could be the Wraith. After all, he wasn’t afraid of any woman. Only men, and not many of those.
He shook his head. No, she was likely an agent of the Wraith. Still, there was something about her that nagged at his mind. He put the thought aside and checked his phone to make sure the snipers were in place. Once it was, he made his way to the stairs to start his long march to the 14th floor.
✽✽✽
Joseph snarled as he paced back and forth. He was a fool. He should never have taken her in, never trained her. Worst of all, he should never have let himself grow fond of her. It clouded the judgment and made the mind do stupid things. But dammit, he liked her. She was persistent, stubborn, and she took to the training like she was born to it.
You know you have to save her. You don’t have much time anyway.
The voice in his head, the one that wasn’t his own, reminded him. The shadow inside Joseph warred with his self-preservation. He had known this moment was coming, he’d known it for almost a year. The Wraith might be an annoying pain in his ass, but he was right. Joseph’s body was failing, faster and faster as the days went by. He hadn’t told Madi the truth about himself because, deep down, he’d hoped she would change her mind before he had to. She was young, she could go about her life, find someone else to love. But no… she was fixated on making the people who killed her sister pay… exactly the kind of person the Wraith needed.
Joseph looked in the mirror, his hand tracing the lines of his face. When he’d started his crusade thirteen years before, he’d been thirty-five years old; now he looked like he was approaching seventy. Maybe with Madi, it would be different. Maybe with her, she could find a way to avoid the ill-effects of the powers that were killing him.
None of that would matter if he didn’t save her.
Decision made, Joseph Li walked into his living room for what he knew was the last time. Facing the mantle with the pictures of his wife and girls he sighed. Part of him was glad this was finally happening. Maybe, just maybe he would see them again. Regardless of what happened next, the pain that lived with him every day, the pain of losing them before his very eyes, would go away.
He pushed th
e picture in the center, the largest one, back until it touched the wall. The floor shook as the secret lift lowered him into the basement that was five times as large as his house. Here was where he stored his equipment. As the lift lowered, the floor above him closed and an exact replica of the section he stood on slid into place.
The lift came to a stop and the motion lights triggered. The armory lit first, with the hundreds of guns he’d collected over the years, along with enough ammo to fight a small war. Then the costume he hadn’t even looked at in three years lit up. A black trench coat, black tactical pants and shirt, and a matching skull cap. The only ounce of color he had on the costume was the tactical mask that looked like the bottom mandible of a human skeleton. It never failed to scare the crap out of anyone who saw him.
He walked past the pallet loaded five feet high with cash and went right to the costume. It was time to put it on— one last time.
Chapter 24
Of course, they shut the lights off. Half the floors in the building were empty, and with the power out, the rest would soon be. I swore under my breath. This day was one disaster after another and it wasn’t even four yet.
We were on the thirteenth floor on the south side, overlooking the lower wings that were only six stories tall. If I had to guess, he had men coming up the stairs and down from the top.
I was such an idiot. I should have stayed on the street. I felt like I had played right into his hand every step of the way. Here I was, thinking I had prepared for anything… Why? Because I had killed a couple of thugs… from behind… at night… when they didn’t even know I was there? No wonder Joseph was constantly was telling me to be prepared, to only fight on my terms. This was out of hand and could end with both of us dead.
“Maybe you could climb down—if we broke the window?” Krisan asked. I wasn’t about to leave her. Even if I could, which I don’t think I could, I would never be able to carry her, not even on my best day. I was strong, but I was no superhero.
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