“Yeah, Mo. Thanks. Whose with me?” Deb smiled as she watched Mo. Their relationship had warmed.
“Roddy has hired a woman named Terese Le Fevre. She’ll be your Demeter for the Sunday show. She’ll be here Tuesday to put in some rehearsal before D.C.” Mo pushed Betty’s hand away.”That’s good, thanks.” Roddy had finally tangled himself in the cable and brought down the house.
“I know you been through a lot, Mo. I just want ya to know how grateful I am for all your help. I hope Zack is okay. Oh. There’s the music.”
“Let’s get back out there.” Mo took her position with the devil himself.
The trapeze rose from the flames as the hot lights captured the royal couple. They did their mating dance while the denizens of Hades celebrated with a banquet of fire. Persephone removes the fierce mask of Hades and finds he has taken the form of a man to mate with her. “So you finish with the policeman?” Claude gave her a lurid grin.
Mo snorted as her lips met his for the kiss that would seal the bargain. “Don’t get any ideas.” Her head hurt. She wanted to go down to Zack’s place. But she wanted to give him time to think about things. Mo and Claude twined like snakes and did their dance. Flying in the red glittering costumes. The dazzling new move she had been working on was coming up. She would be swung from Misha in his Zeus costume to Claude. Then do a triple to Haaken and a do a quadruple back to Claude. She would be the first female aerialist to complete a quadruple somersault on the trapeze. She found her heart wasn’t in it. She wasn’t rested and focused as she should be. She could always just do the triple and eat crow. Advertising had created anticipation. It was her call though. She could issue an apology for the excited expectation of the audience. She would signal her intention before she made the move. No, I won’t wait. I can do it. I can do it.
Misha waited on the stand to make his move. He looked over at the box where Mayor Tyler sat with the mayor of Greendale and a few other guests. How nice of him to come see the show again, Misha thought. He had almost changed his mind but after seeing Mo mope about the cop all day he was fed up. She had run to him before, it wasn’t going to happen again. He leapt and crossed with Deb landing on the other platform and watched Mo and Claude. Heat came up his neck and burned his ears while he watched them kiss. He did his moves as Zeus then grabbed another trapeze and did his turns landing back on the platform. It was almost time. He felt the bag concealed in his costume, which had a loose fitting tunic top. Through the fabric of it he felt the small rectangular box. He gave the arena a good long look as he hurled more lighting.
Zack and Al rushed into the coliseum. Al had called for backup and arranged for security to assist when they arrested Misha Severinsky after the show. Zack’s head was much clearer and his concern for making sure Mo or anyone was in danger had pumped adrenalin into his system staving off pain and exhaustion. They had proof that Misha had crossed the border at Sault Ste. Marie into the States the same night he landed in Montreal. He had taken a plane to the border city using the name on one of his passports. Further checking into his background had found he’d been a person of interest in the disappearance of a former girlfriend when he’d worked at a small time circus in Saskatchewan. The big snag was the murder weapon. Zack wasn’t betting Misha would just give it up.
Harve had gotten the DA away from his cook out to get a warrant for the search of Misha’s room. Graver and Simmons were probably having their bingo moment even as Al and Zack got Roddy’s attention.
“What you say? Misha?” Roddy’s eyes bulged. “Mo! He want to hurt Mo?”
“Stay calm, Mr. D’Mario. No reason to believe she’s in imminent danger but he’s our guy. We need to let things proceed normally. After the show, tell him you need to see him in your office. We want him away from Ms. Whitman in case he panics before we’ve got him. But I don’t think he has a clue we’re on to him.”
Zack put a hand on Roddy’s shoulder. “Roddy, we need you to be cool and calm,” Zack affirmed. “You just need to chat about his part.”
“No, no, he never buy that.” Roddy eyed Zack. “You let me get him to office. Then you and me, we talk, Zack.” He crossed his arms with a huff.
“I’m going to talk to the mayors. We’ll want them and as many people out of the arena as possible before we bag Severinsky.” Al started to leave Zack to get the security people in place. He turned back with another order. “Stay out of Severinsky’s sight. No sense in getting him riled. Here’s Harve now,” he answered his phone. “It’s a go.”
Zack and Les Moore got everyone in place to secure Mo and others while the Greendale police positioned themselves for the arrest. When Roddy got Misha in his office Lourdes Garcia would ask to see Roddy a moment and get him out of the way. It was hard to believe Misha was armed in his costume but anything was possible. Clearly he was unbalanced and dangerous. He was also clever and had gone to great lengths in pursuit of his sick agenda.
With Les Moore’s team in position, Zack took an elevator up to the top tier of the coliseum. He wanted to keep an eye on Misha and Mo until the show was over. He watched Persephone do her dance with the devil obscured by a column.
Misha looked with satisfaction at the full house he had for his last spectacular performance. He would be the star now with Mo. His name forever entwined with hers. They would be remembered for the blazing glory of their departure from the world. He would let Mo have her last triumph. The quadruple. His gift to her. Then it was he and Mo together forever.
See if they laugh at him now the way that girl had laughed at him in Saskatchewan. She’d called him second rate. He had proved her wrong. Too bad she’d never know it. But Mo would know better. Mo would know that there was nothing he feared and he would do anything to have her forever. What more could a woman want?
Mo brought all her focus into single pinpoint of will. Although she had practiced repeatedly, this now live quadruple in front of fifteen thousand people would be her defining moment as an aerialist. It would be the triumph that would carry her into the history of her field. She could not hesitate. Could not fail. Claude swung out, his leotard sparkling flames. In this she could trust. The skill of her partner. Her own ability. The continuity of the world she was a part of. It was all that mattered and she would not fail. “Kisses Gram.” A flash of Zack in her mind was shoved deep down. Concentration. Now.
She sailed through the air, her body light, fluid and free. One turn, two, three, and four, spinning so fast it was almost like a blur to those watching in awe. Her hands locked on Claude’s wrists, his on hers as they swung to the roar of the audience. Applause filled the air as they swung. Mo somersaulted to another bar.
Mayor Gerald Tyler of Chicago sat with Mayor Lauren Brody of Greendale and watched transfixed from their premium suite with the best view in the house. Like the other members of the audience they were on their feet cheering the astounding feat that had been advertised all over their cities bringing them reflected glory. They shook hands and congratulated each other as if they themselves had been up on that trapeze.
Al Simpson watched from outside the Mayor’s box. With a child’s wonder in his eyes he watched Mo perform her historic feat with his heart thumping. For a moment he forgot his purpose there as he watched her fantastic form spin unfettered. It took the deafening applause to rattle him back to the present. He set his mouth with determination and opened the door.
Claude went back to the platform and let her stand alone on her trapeze and revel in her moment. He was proud of her. Bursting with pride in her. All eyes were on her. And he knew why she was the star. Now the last descent before Persephone’s rise into Earthly spring.
Mo was almost lightheaded from her joy. She had done it! The crowd stood, cheering and clapping. It was as if thunder filled the huge arena. She took it in. “Thanks Gram.” She looked at Claude and nodded, his pride was evident. She smiled and gave the trapeze the thrust to meet him for the final descent to Hell.
Claude stood prepared to fly to Mo. The st
age would darken while they descended. Red lights would focus on them as the other worldly keening welcomed them to the bowels of Hades. Then Persephone would arise alone into the sweet, cool spring of paradise.
Zeus was in place on the platform; the concerned father who will threaten Hades a last time for the theft of his beloved daughter. He watched as Claude prepared to fly out for his last dance with Mo. Without hesitation he made his move.
Zack had known that Mo had been working on perfecting her quadruple. It had worried him but he had never mentioned that worry. Like him, she had a job to do. Every precaution was taken but the inherent danger was always there. He watched her from his place on the top tier. There was a web of rigging for the aerial show above and in front of him. Cables, ropes, rings and zip lines. He had to look through them to see Mo. See her he did as she executed her spectacular quadruple as easily as a bird takes wing. His chest heaved out a long breath and he realized he’d been holding it. He watched the audience go insane as Mo swung standing on the trapeze. This was her world. This was where she belonged. This was the culmination of a lifetime of work. He swelled with pride for her. But that pride was checked by the gloomy realization that this was his goodbye. “I love you, Mo,” he whispered. He needed to get back downstairs. He turned to do so but couldn’t help but take a last look. He was shocked by what he saw.
Misha crashed into Claude so unexpectedly the Frenchman lost his balance and fell to the net. Most of the audience was unsure whether this was part of the show but repeaters gasped; certain something was wrong. By the time Claude was bouncing on the net below, Misha was reaching out to Mo, whose realization of the change came mid-air.
“Misha? Where’s Clau…” Mo prepared for her next move automatically. It didn’t come. Misha kept her gripped and with amazing strength pulled her up to the bar.
“Hold the bar, there’s trouble, Mo. I will protect you. Hold on.” She grasped the bar. Misha turned himself and in one smooth move cuffed Mo’s right wrist to the bar with handcuffs.
“Misha what are you doing?” She panicked, reaching at the handcuffs with her other hand and found herself hanging, painfully by the handcuffs. Mo managed to grip with her cuffed hand again and swung the other up to the bar. With amazing agility, Misha had maneuvered into a standing position.
“A little change in the ending of the story. Great job by the way. You’ll always be remembered.” He looked around; the audience had been stunned to silence. He pulled a wireless mike out of his leotard and turned it on while Mo tried to struggle free of the cuff. “Ladies and Gentlemen!” His voice boomed in the sound system. Now you have seen the great Monica Whitman perform her greatest feat you should know you also have the privilege of witnessing her last performance. Stay put!” he pulled the box from beneath his tunic. Nobody leaves or five bombs will go off beneath five sections. One could be yours!” The audience gasped, a few people screamed, nobody moved. Misha was satisfied he had their full attention.
“Little Momo. Is that what Claude called you? Roddy? What did Linc call you in bed? What did the cop call you?” He watched her struggle kicking her legs up to grab the bar with them. The handcuffs wouldn’t let her hand move. Misha swung a kick at her foot as she tried to put it over the bar. “You’re with me now. And I call you ‘WHORE!’” He was prepared. Everything had come together just as planned. He crouched on the swing holding the cable with one hand. The black box was attached to a lanyard around his neck. “You said your costume felt itchy, remember?” He looked in her eyes. Her apparent fear almost changed his mind. Almost. “Mine too. A little thermite, sulfur, acid. Sorry about the discomfort. It won’t last long.
You know it’s time you burned with me. You’ve burned with everyone else. The whole world. Everyone but me. I’m the one who loves you. Enough to make you a true immortal.” He suddenly had a lighter in his hand. “Want to watch the Queen of Hell burn?” His voice echoed in the silent arena. You can watch her burn in Hell. She will burn with me! I am King of Hell now. I am a God!” He dropped down and held the bar facing Mo. “I will purge you of all your sins. All it takes is a spark Mo and we will be together forever.” He hooked a cable from his waist to the bar with a carabiner. He wanted to make sure he would not fall if he needed both hands. And he needed both hands for the one, the only, fiery embrace he would know with Mo.
With incredible speed Mo shot her legs around Misha’s waist and squeezed with all the strength she possessed. His eyes widened stunned with her movement and at her strength. He could only fight her with one hand without finding himself swinging by his short safety line. He held on tenuously and had to let the lighter fall. “I’ll blow it up, Mo; it will be your fault.” Mo stopped struggling. She loosened her grip. She knew she had been defeated. Misha ripped the mike loose and let it drop. “We’re all alone, Mo.”
“What do you want, Misha?” Mo tried not to scream the words. “You call me a whore. Then why would you want me? What do you want?”
“Just you. An eternity with you. We can be happy now. All is forgiven, my love. I’ve waited to kiss you for so long. We should not leave this world without a kiss.” He put his strong hand around her neck. Her shoulders were throbbing with pain.
“You dropped your lighter. You can still stop this. You don’t need to hurt these people. I’m sorry I angered you. I always cared. I always cared about you, Misha. Get rid of that…” she looked at the detonator, “I’ll do whatever you say. I always cared.”
“You love me?” He hesitated. But he was prepared. He flicked a lighter in her face. “You can prove it now. Kiss me. We’ll show them all our love.” He focused on the mouth he’d dreamed of. Yes, they would end it with a kiss.
Body in pain, Mo shivered. Blood ran from the cuffed wrist. She stared into Misha’s eyes and knew he would not turn back. Suddenly she saw her triumph, Gram scolding and praising her to perfection, and a last flash of regret for what she might have had with Zack. Zack. She closed her eyes.
Misha closed in for the kiss. He was ready. Her sweet mouth would be the last thing he’d ever know. He put his thumb on the roll switch of the lighter. The spark might set off the detonator but such was life. They would leave the world in flames.
He shouted with shock at the burn that raked the back of his neck. In astonishment he glimpsed where the detonator had hung and saw it bounce just a little on the net. He growled in fury then pain as Mo kneed him in the scrotum. His fist was tight around the lighter but he was too stunned to flick on the flame. He swung that fist at Mo’s face but she kicked at him again. The fist glanced off her cheek. He reached a huge strong hand toward her. He dropped the lighter but his hand was on her throat.
Mo knew she had gotten the detonator away but she would stop breathing soon. She struggled flailing and kicking as Misha tried to crush her wind pipe. Blood was dripping down her arm. The pain of her shoulders was obliterated by the one in her throat. Her eyes fluttered as her vision blurred. She was vaguely aware of people screaming but unaware of the panicked exodus below. The rush of blood pounding in her ears took over. She didn’t really feel anything now. Her mind had taken her somewhere else. She had surrendered to the end.
But sound and pain rushed back as Misha’s crushing hand let go. Mo gasped in air startled at being yanked back into the world. She shook her head trying to clear it. She opened her eyes to an amazing sight.
Zack stood on the trapeze above Mo and Misha. He stomped repeatedly into the Ukrainian’s face. Misha tried to pull Zack by the other leg but his hand missed the bar as Zack stomped again. Finally, Misha grabbed Zack’s ankle. He yanked at it but lost his grip. He reached for it again at the same time he tried to fend off the blows with his other hand.
Mo did the only thing she could think of as she realized Zack’s danger. She reached out through the pain and fog. Her strength was almost gone as she reached for the carabiner. It took everything she had to unclip it from the bar.
Zack watched Misha fall toward the net. He reached down toward Mo
but almost lost his balance. His right side was covered in blood. He couldn’t stay on the bar any longer. It had taken everything in him to hold onto the zip line, then the trapeze and do what he could to stop Misha from choking her to death. He would have shot him except for fear for Mo and others. He had stood helplessly by. Then he had launched himself with a fury onto the zip line. The pain had been excruciating. He had stopped the madman. But Mo wasn’t safe yet.
He couldn’t get to the handcuff. He wouldn’t be able to get it off. He couldn’t haul her up. He saw Mo’s strength ebbing. There was too much weight for the other aerialists to pull the trapeze in with the tow line. He looked in Mo’s eyes, then turned away from her and fell.
He kicked his legs out and hit the net with a hard bounce. Pain burst with a blinding flash from his shoulder and side. He was vaguely aware of the police latching on to Misha, with Claude’s help, as he scrambled for the detonator. Zack’s last sight before darkness closed in was of Mo being pulled toward the platform.
Mo had been in seclusion recovering from the injuries she had sustained. Deb had replaced her temporarily and was doing an adequate job if not a stellar one. Mo thought with experience she’d continue to improve. Roddy had wanted to call off the show. But Mo had insisted Deb could do it. Roddy had relented and Mo had spent a great deal of time in her room thinking and planning and dreaming.
Fly With Fire Page 34