Talon of God

by Wesley Snipes

  “What happens at the end of the week?”

  The assassin wagged his fingers at him and hopped out of the huge SUV as nimbly as a cat. “Let’s not ruin this by getting nosy. St. Luke is pleased with how you’ve handled things so far. Keep it up, and this’ll all be over before you know it. Now.” He tilted his head. “What’s the word on Talon?”

  The chief blinked, confused. “Who?”

  “Big dude with the sword.”

  Korigan glanced pointedly at the archaic weapon clutched in Black’s hands. “I thought that was you.”

  The assassin actually laughed at that. “I’m starting to like you.”

  “I could care less.”

  “Now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings.”

  Korigan didn’t dignify that with a reply. He just reached for his phone, bringing up what little his boys had been able to scrape together about the third player in this morning’s fiasco. The large black man with the sword who’d stuck to Dr. Jefferson like he was her own private guardian angel.

  “There’s not much to tell. We tried to do facial recognition on him using the pictures we scraped from the security cameras, but the quality’s too low to get a match. And that’s assuming he’s even in our database. I’ve got an APB out on him as a person of interest. If he pokes his head outside anywhere in Chicago, my cops will pick him up.”

  “They can try,” Black said with a snort. “If Talon could be cornered by pigs like yours, my life wouldn’t be nearly as interesting.” He frowned. “He was pretty hung up on that doctor chick. What’s her story?”

  “Everyone in the world seems to be hung up on Dr. Jefferson,” Korigan said irritably, reaching into the car’s glove box for the dossier his secretary had put together for him. “This is everything we’ve got. Knock yourself out.”

  Black snatched the folder out of his hand and flipped it open, poring over the pages with more attention than Korigan had seen the crazy bastard give anything else. “She’s a regular Goody Two-Shoes, isn’t she?” he said with a laugh. “Preacher’s daughter, volunteer work with low-income patients, treating the homeless. No wonder the old man likes her.” He flipped the page, and his face lit up. “And she has a brother.”

  Korigan didn’t see how that changed anything, but Black was grinning like he’d just hit the jackpot. “I’m keeping this,” he said, tucking Lauryn’s folder under his arm. “Good work, Vic. I’m starting to be glad St. Luke ignored me when I told him to kill you.”

  Korigan fought the urge to come back at him. Black was clearly one of those people who loved screwing with others, but putting him in his place wasn’t worth endangering his mission. Whatever airs he put on, at the end of the day, he was nothing but St. Luke’s attack dog, the thug who kept the illegal side of his drug business in line. If he wanted to waste his time on the Jefferson girl’s drama, Korigan was happy to let him. He’d already done his part to discredit her testimony, which meant Korigan’s ass was covered. He had bigger problems right now, anyway, like the phone that was buzzing in his pocket. Probably the mayor again. That would have to be dealt with, but before Korigan stuck his head in any more bear traps, there was one thing he had to get straight.

  “Don’t mess with me again.”

  Black glanced up from Lauryn’s file with an amused expression. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” Korigan said. “I know you think I’m just the cover guy, but St. Luke wouldn’t be giving me this—” he held up the papers promising him St. Luke’s fortune “—if your mission didn’t depend on the work I do. So it doesn’t help me when you keep info from me. You’ve already burned me once by not telling me how bad this Z3X crap would look before you blew it up in a public place, or that it was contagious.”

  That was what Korigan was most pissed about, actually. Drugs he could contain, didn’t matter how crazy they made you. But drugs that spread like a plague? That got people panicked, and panic couldn’t be reasoned with. Not with drastic measures at least, and good as Korigan was, even he had his limits.

  “I don’t care what St. Luke is doing to this city,” he continued. “So long as I get paid, I don’t care if the two of you plan to turn Chicago into your own druggie zoo. But if I’m going to do my job, you will not pull a stunt like this again.”

  By the time he finished, the grin had fallen off Black’s face. “What makes you think you can tell me what to do? You’re just the hired help.”

  “And you’re just a psycho on a leash,” Korigan said, standing his ground so Black would see he wasn’t intimidated. “So I guess we’re both St. Luke’s bitch. But let’s get one thing real straight: I know all of your boss’s secrets. You guys screw me over again, and I will not hesitate to burn everything I have to screw him back. Get me?”

  “Oh, I read you loud and clear,” Black said as the smile slipped back onto his face. “That’s why we picked you. You’re a man who’s used to having his back to the wall. But relax, Chief. You got nothing to worry about. Haven’t you heard that the devil takes care of his own?”

  Korigan didn’t know what he was talking about, and didn’t care. “You do whatever you want, I don’t care, just don’t get in my way. I’m going to get your boss his cover, but you pull a stunt like this again without giving me warning, and St. Luke’s going to have to find himself a new dog.”

  “Are you talking about you or me now? Know what—it doesn’t matter. Just keep telling yourself that you can do something to hurt St. Luke—or me—sunshine,” Black said, turning away. “Now if you’re done beating your chest, I’ve got an old friend to check in on. I’ll swing by when I’m done to pick you up for the factory tour.”

  Korigan blinked. “What?”

  The swordsman glanced over his shoulder. “You wanted in on St. Luke’s narcotics operation. That’s my turf. But I’ll be happy to show you the ropes. Assuming your delicate stomach can handle it.”

  That was right. In his rush to keep this Mercy business on lockdown, Korigan had completely forgotten he’d demanded access to St. Luke’s illegal businesses as well as the legit ones. Now that Black had reminded him, though, he was ready to go. It was obvious at this point that his ignorance about the realities of Z3X was a critical weakness, which meant it would have to go.

  “I’ll make time this afternoon,” he said. “Be ready by three.”

  “I’ll be ready when I’m ready,” Black said, walking off into the dark deck. “Just make sure you are.”

  Korigan rolled his eyes. He’d had enough of the pissing contest talking with Lincoln Black always turned into. But when he looked back to get the final word in, the parking deck was empty.

  He turned in a circle, scanning the dark for the assassin he knew had to be there. Even creepy bastards like Black couldn’t actually vanish into thin air. But no matter how hard he searched, he didn’t find a thing. He was still looking when his driver and guard reappeared, laughing and joking with coffees in hand. They shut up the moment they saw their boss, but Korigan was too distracted to care. He just climbed in the car and told them to get him back to the office, pulling out his phone as he buckled in to resume cleaning up the epic mess Lincoln Black had left for him.

  Lauryn sat hunched in a hard chair, watching the clock on the wall slowly crawl through yet another hour of what had to be the longest day of her life.

  After setting off the sprinklers and passing out like an anemic, she’d woken up to find Talon gone, cops everywhere, and herself as the prime subject of interest for the entire city of Chicago. Just in the last three hours, she’d been visited by the hospital president, the chief of staff, the hospital’s psychiatrist, the chief of police, three separate detectives, and a forensic investigator. Every single one of them had come into the visitation room the police had turned into a makeshift cell and asked her a dozen different versions of what were really the same three questions: How had she avoided being infected, why had she turned on the sprinklers, and where was the ma
n who’d been with her?

  Every time, Lauryn had given the facts as she knew them. No matter how skeptical the person interviewing her looked, she’d tried her best to tell the truth exactly as it had happened. This was partially because she’d been raised to be an honest person, but mostly because Lauryn didn’t feel she had anything to lie about. Thanks to her and Talon’s actions, everyone from the burn ward—patients and staff—had escaped relatively unharmed, and crazy as she knew it sounded when she told the story, Lauryn felt that was something to be proud of.

  Or, at least, that’s how she’d felt at the start. But as the morning dragged on and she was forced to tell the same story over and over, doubt began to creep into Lauryn’s mind. It was all still there, the memories vivid and clear in the way only really traumatic events could be, but the further she got from the actual crisis, the more decisions that had made perfect sense at the time—trusting Talon, or running out into a room full of infection cases with zero protective gear to douse them in holy water—now just seemed plain old crazy. She stuck to them anyway, because, again, that was what had happened. But with every pitying look and skeptical frown from the parade of experts, Lauryn’s doubt kindled and grew until she was no longer sure she wasn’t as delusional as everyone else clearly thought she was.

  By the time noon rolled around, she’d pretty much resigned herself to living in the tiny visitation room forever. Then, without warning, one of the hospital admins had come in to tell her the board had decided to place her on medical leave, and that she was free to go home. Lauryn had made him repeat that last part, because in her experience, suspected delusional patients didn’t just get sent home. But the man was quite clear: citing lack of evidence, Police Chief Korigan had tabled the investigation into the events of the burn ward until further notice, and both the Chicago PD and the Mercy Hospital System CEO had agreed that everyone involved was to be given time off to recover, including her. Provided, of course, that she signed a gag order preventing her from talking to the press.

  Even after he’d handed her the paperwork, she still hadn’t believed it. She knew the Mercy Hospital disaster-recovery plan inside and out, and nowhere was there anything like this. Especially the gag order. But while the professional in her was incensed at the gross breach in protocol and the obvious attempt to hush things up, the rest of her was exhausted and more than happy to do whatever it took to go home.

  She’d just finished signing the papers and was collecting her things from the police officer who’d been tasked with guarding her door when Will found her.

  “Lauryn!”

  She winced as he yelled her name, and then winced even more when he grabbed her arm and dragged her around the corner toward the exit.

  “What are you doing?” she said, yanking her arm out of his hand at last.

  “Getting you somewhere we can talk,” he said, grabbing her again. “We don’t have much time.”

  “We don’t need time,” she reminded him, pulling her arm free yet again. “And stop grabbing my arm like I’m your property. Anyway, there’s nothing to talk about. I’ve already told every person in authority everything that’s happened to me over the last twenty-four hours in triplicate. Trust me, there is nothing left to say.”

  Will glanced up and down the empty hall before fixing her with a glare. “Nothing?” he repeated. “So you think this whole ‘letting you go home under a gag order and canceling the investigation’ thing is totally normal, completely on the up and up?”

  He had a point there, but what did he expect her to do about it? “It’s done, Will,” she said, shoulders slumping. “Sure, they’re closing things up kind of quick, but what else can they do? Literally nothing about this situation makes sense. Even I don’t believe my testimony anymore, and I lived it.” She shook her head. “I know you’re a detective and fundamentally incapable of letting things go, but everything ended up okay in the end. Maybe we should just leave it at that.”

  “Leave it at that?” he said, eyes going wide. “Chief Korigan just kicked me off the case—put me on leave—because I wouldn’t change my report. He’s burying this right in front of us, and you want me to just let that go?”

  Lauryn opened her mouth to say . . . she wasn’t sure, actually. In the end, though, it didn’t matter, because Will had already cut her off. “There’s something going on, Lauryn,” he said, dropping his voice even lower. “Korigan’s a brand-new police chief. Solving a case this big should be his ticket to fame, so why is he burying it instead of putting together a big task force to take out the drug dealers he’s blaming it on? It doesn’t make sense. Not unless he has skin in the game, too.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Will—”

  “I’m not wearing a tinfoil hat, Lauryn. Trust me, I know how I sound, but I’ve been a cop for a long time. I’ve learned to listen to my gut, and right now every instinct I have is telling me that all of this is all connected. I’ve always known Korigan was a snake, but combine the appearance of this new drug with the unprecedented takeover of Chicago’s narcotics market and the fact that we’ve got a police chief all but blocking the investigation, and even you have to admit there’s got to be something bigger going on.”

  Lauryn bit her lip. She hadn’t thought of it all together like that before. “I admit it’s weird,” she said at last. “But ‘weird’ happens all the time. Not everything has to be connected. Coincidences do happen, you know.”

  “Not like this,” he said, moving closer. “Look, if there’s anything I’ve learned as a detective, it’s that nothing happens without a reason. When things don’t add up, it’s only because there’s something you don’t know, not because the world has suddenly become irrational. We just have to figure out how everything’s connected.”

  Lauryn blinked in surprise. The logic Will was describing was exactly how she approached her own problem cases as a doctor. But while her own instinct was telling her to chase it, she was tired. So, so tired and sick of things she couldn’t explain that it was hard to find any enthusiasm for Will’s hunt.

  “You’re not wrong,” she admitted. “But how are you going to do any of that? You just told me you were off the case. What are you going to do? Detective out of your apartment?”

  “Technically, I’m only on medical leave,” Will said. “But just because I’m down doesn’t mean I’m out. It’s still my job to protect this city.” He glared at her. “You more than anyone should know about what it means to take an oath.”

  Lauryn winced. Bull’s-eye. Will saw it, too, and he went in for the kill. “Someone knows what happened this morning, Lauryn,” he said quietly. “I’m going to find them, and I need your help.”

  That was what she’d been afraid he’d say, and her shoulders slumped. “My help with what?” she asked, glancing pointedly at one of the hospital’s ubiquitous TVs where the news was still running constant coverage of what they were calling “Havoc at the Hospital.” “The whole city’s seen the news by now. All the networks are reporting Chief Korigan’s story about it being a bad batch of drugs, and why not? That certainly makes more sense than our stories. Face it, we’re the weak links here. We can’t do anything more than we’ve done already to prove our side of the story, even though it’s the truth. Every contact you talk to is going to know you’ve got no leverage on this. Even if you do find someone who knows what’s going on, they’re not going to tell you anything.”

  “They won’t,” Will agreed grimly. “But it doesn’t matter. I exhausted all of my normal contacts last night anyway, which is why I’m going straight to the horse’s mouth. I want to question Talon.”

  Lauryn couldn’t believe her ears? “Talon?” she repeated breathlessly. “But . . . you didn’t believe anything he said. You called him crazy!”

  “He is crazy. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know things,” Will said. “I don’t know what his story is or how he managed to vanish like that while the rest of us got caught, but I’d bet you a hundred bucks he’ll be back, and he’
ll come to you.”

  There, at least, they agreed. But while Will sounded excited about cornering him, Lauryn would be perfectly happy if she went the rest of her life without having to see the mysterious Bible-quoting swordsman ever again. Given Talon’s habit of popping up out of nowhere, she didn’t think she’d be that lucky, but for now at least, things were slipping back toward relatively normal, and Lauryn was determined to keep them that way. At least until she’d gotten some sleep.

  “You do what you want,” she said tiredly. “I’m going home and going to bed. The papers are already filed to put me on medical leave due to a mental health crisis, and frankly I don’t think that diagnosis is too far off. Maybe after some sleep, things will start to come together for me, but until then, I’m done.”

  “You can’t just tap out on this,” Will said as she turned to walk away. “Lauryn!”

  “I’m done, Will,” she said without looking back. “You should be, too. Go home.”

  She said that last part in her most serious voice, the one she normally reserved for telling patients their lifestyle choices were killing them, which, in a way, his were. Will had been hyperfocused on cases for as long as she’d known him. It was what had broken them up in the first place, but this time he was going too far, and she refused to help shove him any further down that self-destructive path. He really could lose his job over this, and while he might not care about that right now, Lauryn knew exactly how much being a detective meant to him. Just because she was tired of always coming in second to his work didn’t mean she’d stopped caring about him, and right now, anyone could see he was in over his head. From the dark circles under his eyes, he needed rest even more than she did. But like most stubborn patients, telling him so would only make him balk, so Lauryn did the only thing she could do. She turned away, putting her back to him like a wall as she marched down the hall.