“Well, setting the car on fire wasn’t what I had in mind. I thought you were going to ram them and force them to pull over that way. Or at least get us into a high-speed chase on Lake Shore. Ugh.” Ivy couldn’t believe it.
“This old beater would never be able to take on that SUV. Using my powers seemed like the better route. Now all Bud has to do is pull away from him and join us in the car.”
“That FBI guy looks pretty strong. I don’t think our gangly, cerebral friend has the brawn to get away from him.” Ivy looked on as Bud and the FBI agent walked past their car.
Bud looked at Ivy and Maeve and subtly shook his head.
“Well, great. Now what?” Maeve shook her head and bit her bottom lip.
“We can follow him on foot. Just let them get a decent lead, and we will ditch the car,” Ivy said.
“Where could they be going? Why don’t they just get a cab or wait for the cops to give them a ride?” Maeve watched Bud and Jordan get smaller and smaller in the distance.
“Good point. Could mean they are close to wherever they need to be. Let’s head out.” Ivy opened the car door and walked to the sidewalk next to Lake Michigan. Grant Park was across the street to her right and the harbor to her left. Sailboats aplenty.
Maeve exited through the passenger side to avoid traffic, and they pursued Bud on foot.
“I take it you have no intention of officially arresting me and allowing me due process. I believe the distinction to rid a man of their inalienable rights is to deem him or her an enemy combatant. To Gitmo I go, is it?” Bud kept talking to calm his nerves.
“You are a clever young man, Mr. Hutchins. I will give you that. We are almost to our destination. It’s just up ahead. The dock is close. Now can you shut the hell up until I ask you to talk?”
“Oh, lovely. I do warn you that I suffer from seasickness at the sight of a boat that I know I will be on. Even on approach, my stomach churns like a hamster beginning its evening exercise in its cage wheel.”
“Hutchins. Jesus.” Agent Jordan’s eyes grew wider, and his grip tightened on Bud’s arm.
“Again, with the Jesus reference. Must you be so pedestrian with your cursory words? A good ‘holy shit’ or ‘hell’ would suffice.”
“I didn’t take you for a religious kid, Hutchins. You sure like to defend Jesus.”
“No defense, just a mere call for vernacular variety.” Bud’s stomach turned over as Agent Jordan pulled him out onto the dock and to a medium-sized yacht. It was black. Difficult to see in the low ambient light of the lakefront.
“Here we are.” Agent Jordan yanked Bud with more force and climbed the dock stairs. Another FBI Agent unlocked the gate to enter the deck of the black yacht.
“Jordan,” the new agent said.
“Johnson. Meet Bud.” Agent Jordan brought Bud in front of him and pushed him up the dock stairs and onto the deck of the yacht.
Bud began to hiccup. The boat already bothered him.
Chapter Six
CABIN FEVER
“A boat? Are we sure these guys are FBI?” Maeve said.
“The license plate was government issued for sure.” Ivy looked at the yacht from the sidewalk next to the dock.
“How do we get him out of there?” Maeve asked.
“As long as they stay put, I have an idea. See that blue and white sailboat next to it on the other side of the dock? Hide in it. Give me the keys to the car.”
Maeve handed the keys to Ivy. “Here you go. Where are you going?”
“Back to campus real fast. I need a few things.”
“Hurry up. These guys creep me out,” Maeve said.
“Really? You are a monk of the Order of St. Michael. You have seen some crazy shit in your life.”
“Yes, paranormal I can handle. Dangerous humans give me more cause for worry.”
“Whatever. I am off. Be back soon. I promise!” Ivy ran back toward the Grand Am.
Maeve made her way to the blue and white sailboat to do some recon.
Bud looked around, yet again finding himself in captivity. This time there was a porthole in front of him. Cherry-wood finish all around. The room’s furnishings held a regal, yet contemporary look with plush green seating and a smell of hard liquor, like cognac. Still, his stomach turned over, and the hiccups increased.
Agent Jordan walked in with a lemon-lime soda can. “Figured this could help settle your stomach there, little guy.”
“I don’t—drink that.” Bud hiccupped.
“Suit yourself. Just don’t blow chunks on me or the floor.” Agent Jordan picked up a bucket from the floor and put it on the table Bud sat behind. “Now to business, Hutchins. The American government, your country, will be willing to negotiate a pardon for your crimes. Get the CPD to let you go, if you are willing to cooperate.”
“What is it…ack… What is it that you want?” Bud asked.
“We want your tech. We are willing to give you all the resources you need to invent, reinvent, and innovate for Uncle Sam.”
Bud was right. They wanted his brain. He would have reveled more in his glory of being right once again, but his sickness worsened.
“You do realize, Hutchins, that we are not sailing? What is wrong with you?” Agent Jordan asked.
“It is of no matter. We are still on the water. The answer is no. I will not be under the employ or indentured servitude of the federal government.”
“So, you would rather go to jail?! The evidence against you is overwhelming! I will be back in a little bit. Let you think on it.” Agent Jordan stood up and slammed the cabin door.
Maeve crouched behind the mast of the sailboat Ivy had directed her to. She eyed the porthole of the black yacht, its light indicating Bud’s location. She hoped.
“Ivy, hurry the hell up.” Maeve drove her hands into her armpits, begrudging the cold Lake Michigan breeze.
The young monk of the Order of St. Michael waited and waited. She felt different since Bud had dumped an ancient elixir down her throat to revive her from a damaged, undead state. The more she thought about the last few months since she’d met Bud, the more emotional: the loss of her uncle to a killer hellbent on reviving an evil pagan god, her crazy whirlwind adventures with Bud all over the US and the UK, her subsequent death, undeath, and transformations to a werewolf were all wiped away by a drink that Ivy had concocted.
Sometimes, even with her training in combatting the occult, Maeve had a hard time believing the insanity of her experiences. Still, her resolve to serve the Order had been steeled by the last few months. This is who she was meant to be—a holy warrior against the supernatural forces of evil.
“Hands up!” a gruff voice yelled.
“Okay. Okay!” Maeve quickly raised her hands. A supernatural warrior, not a natural warrior.
The agent grabbed her arm and nearly dragged her out of the sailboat.
“You are one of his friends. We recognized you. Didn’t you think we had the entire harbor under surveillance? You kids lack common sense sometimes.” The FBI agent pushed Ivy to the stairs of the black boat.
Maeve climbed the stairs. She bit her lip and wanted to wipe the deck with the ignorant, aggressive agent. But she kept her head down, and he pushed toward another set of stairs to the cabin where Bud was held.
“Oh, you blithering idiot, Maeve. Your imprisonment greatly reduces our odds of getting away from these brutish government agents.” Bud’s eyes were wide open, along with his mouth.
Maeve wanted to jam his big mouth shut.
“Why did I even bother attempting to rescue you again?” Maeve glared at Bud.
The agent pushed down on her shoulders. She sat right next to Bud. They were both summarily detained.
Chapter Seven
DEAL
“Well, well, well, look at what we got here! What a cute couple!” Agent Jordan entered the cabin.
“We are not a couple,” Maeve quickly corrected.
“You two were made for each other. Now, Hutchin
s, have you considered joining the team?”
Maeve laughed, even stomped her foot.
“What is so funny?” Agent Jordan gave a puzzled look at Maeve.
“Join your team? Bud Hutchins! You can have him. He is a giant pain in the ass! He will annoy you to no end. Make you want to pull your hair out. You sure you want him on your team?” Maeve leaned over the table and looked at the agent.
“I agree with you on many levels there, but I don’t have any hair. I still think he should join the team. The US government is keenly interested in his work. What do you say, Bud?”
“The answer is still no, you dolt, especially since you two indulged in defamation against me.” Bud looked away.
“Don’t get so emotional there, Hutchins. What if I told you I have the last known location of your grandfather? Would that sweeten the deal?”
Bud’s entire demeanor shifted. He looked intensely at Agent Jordan. “You daren’t manipulate me on such an intimate level. What do you know of my grandfather’s whereabouts?”
“We know that a big thrust for you developing your teleportation tech was to find him. We then compiled data on him as much as we could. Passports he used, credit cards, etc. Now you would like to join the team?”
Bud shook his head. His eyes grew moist from the mere mention of his grandfather, the only man who’d truly showed him love in his life. The only person who understood him.
“What exactly is it that you want me to do?”
“Bud, he probably doesn’t know a damn thing. Don’t trust him,” Maeve said.
“Young lady. Let Bud decide. You just have to recreate and develop your tech for the good guys. For your country. All your legal woes with the City of Chicago will go away. You know the drill.”
“Is there an official document I am to sign? Let’s get on with it, then. What do you know?”
“Last time his passport was used was last summer in Scotland. Before that, he’d traveled to Rome in March. When he left years ago, he spent a great deal of time in the UK. That was where he went when he left Chicago.”
“Impossible. Bert and I found his active passport.” Bud gathered himself, recovered from the initial emotional reaction, and his mind caught up.
“He used another passport with a different name on it.”
“How did you know his other na—”
A loud explosion rocked the black yacht.
Bud fell off the cabin bench.
Maeve fell on top of him.
Agent Jordan fell into the cabin door and knocked it down.
“What the hell was that?” Agent Jordan rubbed the back of his head while sitting on the floor.
Maeve helped Bud to his feet and gripped his arm.
“Let’s go, Bud! Now!”
The pair of monks of the Order of St. Michael stepped over the incapacitated Agent Jordan and proceeded to climb the stairs.
Bud stopped on the stairs. “What if I don’t want to take my leave of this boat, Maeve?”
“Bud. You can’t be serious. You have much more important work to do. Let’s go!”
“Yes, what if he doesn’t want to leave?” Agent Johnson stood at the top of the steps and pointed his large revolver at their heads.
BOOM! Another loud explosion rocked the boat. This time it was closer. Splinters of fiberglass and wood sprayed around the cabin.
“Shit!” Jordan covered up in the fetal position on the floor.
The waters of Lake Michigan bubbled and spread out over the carpeted floor. The yacht was sinking.
Chapter Eight
FIRE AND WATER
Johnson kept the gun pointed at Bud and Maeve. “Okay, let’s go! We need to get off this boat. I have no idea what you moles on the ass of society are trying to do, but sinking a government boat does not improve your situation!”
Bud looked at Maeve. “I had no intention of leaving.”
Maeve grasped her cross and murmured something.
“Maeve! Maeve! Stop that infernal sorcery!” Bud anticipated and feared Maeve’s next move.
The walls in the stairwell and cabin burst into flames. The heat hit Bud’s face, and a spark licked at his eyebrows.
Johnson pulled the gun up and put his forearm in front of his face to block the fiery walls that crept out onto the deck of the yacht.
Maeve ran up the stairs and knocked him over. “Bud. Now!”
The reluctant and conflicted genius had no choice but to join Maeve. He shook his head but climbed the rest of the stairs to the deck and followed Maeve, who jumped out onto the pier. She rolled and hopped up to her feet. Bud jumped as well. He slipped and fell onto his shoulder.
“Ouch. Don’t you know that athleticism isn’t my strong suit?” Bud’s face was plastered to the wooden pier. The light of the flaming yacht danced on the planks.
“Bud! Maeve! This way,” a familiar voice yelled from the edge of the harbor.
“Get up, Bud! Ivy is here!” Maeve pulled Bud to his feet.
“The toll of the last few days is showing at the moment, Maeve. I didn’t drink a rejuvenating elixir like yourself!” Bud jogged to catch up to Maeve, who ran down the harbor to the lake and Ivy.
“Excuses are for losers, Hutchins!” Maeve turned her head but didn’t slow down.
Ivy’s head floated in the darkness. As Bud moved closer, he could see her black scuba gear and her arms waving for him to join her aboard a small inflatable motorboat.
Maeve made it into the boat. “Hurry, Hutchins!”
Bud looked back and saw Agent Johnson drag Agent Jordan out onto the pier. The police sirens sounded in the distance, then the lights of emergency vehicles dotted Lake Shore Drive.
Bud finally made it to the end of the pier and stopped.
“Jump in, Bud! Come on!” Ivy and Maeve yelled simultaneously.
“I refuse to jump again.”
Maeve grabbed his pants and pulled him into the boat.
Ivy cranked the motor to a start and steered the boat away from the harbor and out onto Lake Michigan.
“Bud. Are you losing your mind? We would have never seen you again if you went with them! We can find your grandfather, your tech, and Bert on our own. We have managed well so far,” Maeve said.
Bud lay in between the seats. Maeve sat above him, glaring.
“I suppose your small mind can make decent points intermittently over huge, titanic swaths of time,” Bud agreed but not without malice.
“You big jerk!” Maeve yelled, lowering her head to his face.
“Okay, okay, you two. Shush. Sound travels really well over water. We are already running this motor,” Ivy intervened.
“Since when did you become a Navy SEAL, Ivy?” Bud asked.
“I am no Navy SEAL. I have done some underwater excavation work with the Chicago Metro team. I used controlled explosives to get through rock obstructions in the field.”
“Isn’t that annoyingly convenient,” Bud observed.
“You’re welcome, Bud. What the hell is your problem?” Ivy yelled.
“He almost let the FBI agent convince him to go into custody willingly in exchange for information on the whereabouts of his grandfather, which clearly the FBI agent had targeted as a weakness of Bud’s. You idiot.” Maeve folded her arms across her chest.
“Hutchins, you can be pretty thick for a super genius,” Ivy said. “We will stop at Southshore Beach and hide out in the old country club there and regroup. Looks like we are in the clear.”
Chapter Nine
INVENTORY
Vincentas examined the heavy, steel, robotic head. He held it with two hands. He looked directly at the cold infrared eyes that were inactive, but their soft red glow gleamed in the dim light. He flipped it around and squinted at the back panels on the cold cranium.
“Quite impressive work. Bela, you’ve outdone yourself this time. Mission accomplished.” Vincentas’s strong, tall frame and calm composure indicated his superior status.
“Thank you, master. It was actua
lly quite easy to acquire. Our ghost did well to keep them distracted.” Bela bowed his head. His hunchback made his bow much more dramatic.
“Bela, we have been partners for so long. You mustn’t bow anymore. It is rather silly to bow. Stop with the formalities. Now, would you look at these incredible gadgets.” Vincentas laid the head down on a stone table and picked up a coin and a wristband. He twirled them in his hand.
“I can’t believe this actually works. I have seen much in my life. This piece of kit is masterful. Just mind-blowing. How soon can we get it back up and running?”
“We are in the middle of reverse engineering it now, master. Switching the signal identification can prove time-consuming.”
“Even with the brains we have active at the moment?” Vincentas took a deep breath.
“Yes. I can apply pressure if you want, master.”
“Nonsense. We have time. I shall suppress my excitement for now. I have music to write.”
“Good luck, master. I am sure it will be another masterpiece.”
“It pays the bills, Bela. It pays the bills. One more thing, have the loose ends been tied up? I haven’t heard from Robert. Have you?”
“The local law enforcement caused a snag. He is still in the field. When he reports to me, I shall relay the message to you.” Bela bowed again.
“Bela! No bowing, you blithering idiot.” Vincentas opened his eyes wide, and his face went from handsome to a furrowed brow. His face housed piercing, cold blue eyes that turned increasingly red in seconds, and he curled his upper lip to partially reveal sharp teeth.
“Right. Master, so sorry. So sorry.” Bela shook with fear.
Chapter Ten
SNIPED
Ivy drove the motorboat right up to the beach. She quickly killed the engine. The Chicago Park District security or even the CPD made their rounds in the Southshore Beach area.
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