by G A Chase
“Do you have another suggestion?”
He turned toward her. “Now that we’re back home and he’s still in hell, I could use the cane to pull him through my fifth gate. That should mess up his soul. Then we stash him away somewhere—like one of Luther’s vaults—until the bank is destroyed. After that, we kill him, which would toss his soul back into Guinee. If Baron Samedi is right about the loas having to build a new seventh gate, Colin would just be another lost soul in line, waiting to be processed.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t go across the river. It sounds like you need me to keep you on track.”
He shook his head at her attempt to distract him. “Tell me why that wouldn’t work.”
She held his hands. “Because, my love, it might turn you evil. The whole point of having multiple gates is so that no one judge passes the final sentence. Turn him down if you want, but don’t take matters into your own hands.”
“And if he makes it through Sanguine and your final gates unscathed, how do we scramble him to fool Guinee into thinking his soul belongs to Sere?”
She suspected part of his desire to deal directly with Colin was to save her and Sanguine from having to pass judgment on Colin. “Just because he pulled others into his hell doesn’t mean we can do the same thing.”
“But this is what he wants,” Myles said. “You said it yourself while we were in hell. If his true desire is to sacrifice his soul for his daughter, then we should let him.”
“Sere and I were driven insane by being drawn into hell. What you’re suggesting would take Colin out of hell and into life. Even though that’s a big dimensional shift, it’s not in the demonic direction. His soul might come through just fine. Then we’d be dealing with the devil in our realm again. That is what he believed would happen when he was using the World Trade Center energy to bust out of hell. If he changes at all, it might well be toward his devil persona. Then you’d be standing face-to-face with the devil with only your cane to protect you.”
Myles turned back toward the water. “You’re saying I’d be giving him exactly what he truly wants as the devil and that his professed desire to save his daughter is only another ruse.”
“If we stick to the plan, when he does return to life, it will be as a regular person. We can deal with him as a mere mortal.”
Myles wore an expression of frustration on his face. With Colin, it wasn’t easy to stay one step ahead. “How about this,” he said. “I reject Colin’s bid to go through my gate. Honestly, I don’t see what he could possibly say that would soften my impression of the devil. But instead of ending his attempt, we encourage him to continue through the final two gates. The system only works if each gate is passed in order.”
Kendell hashed out the idea while she gave it some thought. “If we’re talking about the gates to Guinee, not going through them in order could rip apart a person’s soul. You might be onto something. But he’d have to approach the final two gates on his own. Even though he’s agreed to the plan, we can’t be seen to influence him toward self-destruction. Sanguine has made it clear that the hell her grandmother built has its own perspective on what is right and what isn’t.”
“Do you really think he’d hesitate at Sanguine’s gate? Do you want me to paint you a picture of how she might test him or what it would mean to let him pass?”
She gave the usual look of irritation. “Stop with the sexual innuendoes.”
The ferry was just coming in to the dock. Myles took her in his arms. “Go talk to Mary. I need to meet with Colin alone. I promise I won’t do anything stupid.”
She leaned in and kissed him. “For your plan to work, it might be better if you don’t tell either me or Sanguine how the meeting goes. I could never lie to her, and if she knows what we’re up to, she might not go along. I still suspect she has deeper feelings for the devil than she wants to admit.”
* * *
Myles stood watch at the railing until Kendell had made it onto the ferry. Then he headed to the club. A part of him still wanted to detour back to their apartment and pick up the walking stick, but the temptation to use it against Colin might too easily create a problem they couldn’t contain. He turned onto a city street and heard the ferry horn blast as if it were a reminder from Kendell to stick to the plan.
The shutters that hid the once-forgotten speakeasy were beginning to strain their hinges from so much use. Hopefully, we won’t need you for much longer. He drew the veve, half hoping Colin wouldn’t come.
The man materialized immediately. “It’s about time you showed up. I’ve been sitting here for days. So are we finally going to have this out?” Colin wore his usual suit but with the coat over the back of the chair and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. Myles assumed Colin’s more casual look was an attempt to appear more like the common man, but maybe he really had sat waiting in the courtyard for days. Myles smiled at the image of the powerful man sitting for so long like an average Joe waiting his turn at the department of motor vehicles.
He poured himself a shot of rum. If he was to play the role of gatekeeper, he might as well drink like one. “It would appear so.” He didn’t intend to give Colin any more instruction than necessary.
“I guess I should start by apologizing for taking possession of your body. I could say it was Baron Malveaux, but I’ve never hidden my actions behind those of others. I’m guilty.”
Myles sat in the chair with the bottle of rum within easy reach. “Couldn’t care less.”
“What?” Colin looked genuinely perplexed. “I thought these little meetings were supposed to be about me making amends for my past sins.”
“Nope. I really don’t care what you did in the past or even what you do in the future. I’m here because of how and why you do the things you do. Don’t forget, I’ve seen behind your mask. You pride yourself on being calculating and cunning. Here’s a surprise for you. You’re neither. The way you capitalize on others’ weaknesses is similar to a reservoir behind a dam. Eventually, when the wall cracks, the calm, gentle waters of the lake rush out of the fissure and destroy everything downstream.”
“And you consider yourself the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dike?”
Myles had no such aspirations. “I’d rather divert the river upstream and let you evaporate to nothingness.”
“How do you propose doing that? Because at the moment, you seem to be leaving the decision-making to the women.”
There you are, you bastard. I knew it wouldn’t take much coaxing. “They deal with you as they see fit, and they leave me free to do the same. That’s why it takes multiple people to decide your fate. You have to win over all of us, but then, you used to run a gate in Guinee, so you already know that.”
“I wouldn’t have been as accepting of my situation as you seem to be. I ran the seventh gate, so by the time a soul made it to me, there was no higher power for them to appeal to.”
Is that how you see it? If I reject you, you’ll really just move on, thinking my ruling can be overturned? “Then why bother approaching me at all? You could have gone directly to Kendell.”
“I’m not that stupid. She’d never accept my case unless I proved myself with her underlings first. That is how the gate system works. You’re little more than a district judge, but I have to go through you to be heard by the supreme court.”
Myles enjoyed his rum even more, knowing Colin wouldn’t be sharing a drink. “And what about Serephine? I thought you were sacrificing your soul for her survival. To me, it sounds like you’re just trying to game the system again.”
“I’m not here for your cane. I accept that loss. But a person fights for their right to life all the way to the point of death. If I do lose my soul to those damn loas, then I’ve got Sanguine’s word that she’ll look after my daughter. But if I can figure out a way to extend my remarkable existence while being able to share it with my child, would you really condemn me for trying?”
Myles couldn’t wait to close up the speakeasy. “Like I
said earlier: you’re like water against the dam. Just know that even if those of us who make up the barrier fail to hold back the water, there will always be defiant rocks left over that will influence the rushing river—even if you manage to succeed, you’ll always have me to contend with.”
57
Back in the apartment, Myles worked his body into the tight-fitting black camouflage outfit. Earlier in the day, Joe had dropped off the thick leotards and packed up a set of their street clothes for after the event. At least no one had bothered asking Myles how his meeting with Colin had gone.
“I trust Joe completely, but I don’t see why we have to go on this mission. Seems like his paramilitary force might be better suited.”
Kendell tucked her hair into the skintight hoody. “What we’re asking him to do is a bit beyond just illegal. If I were in his shoes, I’d be demanding we come along too.”
“So we’re the sacrificial lambs if this thing goes south?”
She started applying the black face paint. “We are the ones responsible. He’s not throwing us under the bus if it is, in fact, our idea. If we do get caught, I fully intend on taking the blame, and I expect you to do the same. Joe and his team are doing us a huge favor.”
The neck-to-toe outfit made it hard to breathe. “It’s not just us. This interdimensional problem has been brewing for a long time.”
She held the container of black paste out to him. “I’m just saying we’re the generals, not the foot soldiers, when it comes to this campaign.”
Just once, it would have been nice to see a war story in which the common guys didn’t take all the risks. “When this is over, I’m going to live as boring a life as possible.”
“Bullshit. We may not be adrenaline junkies, but when it comes to saving the world, neither of us would shirk the challenge.”
He studied her from head to toe. “I don’t see an inch of skin. You’ll blend into the shadows better that Baron Samedi.”
She looked out the French door to the veranda. “Joe picked the perfect night. Not only is there a cloud cover to block out the moon and stars, but the dense fog at street level will also obscure the vision of anyone more than a few feet away.”
Myles started applying the thick paste to his skin. “I’m sure that wasn’t by accident. What time is it?”
She rolled up the sleeve of the black wrinkle-free fabric and checked the dull-blue face of her military wristwatch. “Eleven forty-three. He said they’d be out front at exactly twelve ten—just enough time to reconsider this plan about a million times.”
“Or we could spend the time saying good night to the dogs.”
“You mean goodbye,” she said.
He performed a series of stretching exercises to make the fabric perfectly coat his body. “Don’t be pessimistic. We’re headed in with the best, most secretive team I can imagine. And I’ve watched a ton of spy movies over the last week just to make sure.”
Under her black paint, he could make out her look of mockery. “That makes me feel a lot better.”
They snuck into the bedroom, trying not to wake the dogs. Both were sleeping peacefully, but they lifted their heads when Myles leaned down over the bed. “You guys be good,” he said. “If we’re not home by morning, Polly will be by to check on you.”
Kendell didn’t appear able to say goodbye. He took her around the waist and led her back to the living room. “There’s no crying in terrorism.”
“Don’t try to make me laugh.”
He would have kissed her if it hadn’t meant messing up her blackened face. “Even if the worst does happen, the band will take in our dogs. They’ll be well loved and cared for. Let’s get undercover in the alleyway. I don’t want to keep Joe waiting.”
As they did their best not to be seen, Myles appreciated Joe’s unwillingness to discuss the plan’s details. Knowing too much would only give him and Kendell too much to fret over. As far as the bombing went, they were just two more sets of hands. Joe was the brains of the operation, and his team members worked so smoothly together that Myles often lost track of which one was performing which task. They could interchange jobs like jugglers who perfectly knew each other’s moves.
A black van crept down the street. “That must be him,” Myles said.
To Myles’s surprise, when the van shut its lights off, so did every street lamp in the Quarter. The sliding door opened, and Joe’s voice came from the direction of the van. “Come on. Time to get to work.”
Kendell jumped in first. Myles followed so closely he could feel her excitement through his bodysuit. “What’s with the blackout?”
Joe secured the door and tapped on the headrest of the driver’s seat. “A little surprise from Professor Yates and Luther Noire. They thought with the bank going up in smoke, it might be best if we weren’t accidentally projecting energy from life to hell through the misaligned gates. Since they couldn’t exactly shut off the projection itself, they figured blacking out the Quarter would be the next best thing.”
“I’m glad someone thinks of this stuff,” Myles said.
The van sped through the usually busy streets like an emergency vehicle rushing to a crisis. “How did you manage to block off the streets?” Kendell asked.
Joe kept his eyes on the road ahead. “Shutting down traffic in the Quarter really isn’t that hard. Now, keep your heads down, and get ready to bolt out the door. Just follow me. We’ll be headed for the bank’s basement.”
The half dozen blocks were the longest of Myles’s life. Yet arriving wasn’t any relief. “If I don’t have a heart attack, it’ll be miracle.”
Kendell took his hand and leaned toward the door. The moment it opened, the team rushed out like a football squad taking the field. He barely noticed the walls along the sides of the truck ramp down to the basement. Everything was a background of black with moving black figures pushing him through a black doorway into a black room.
Once inside, Joe arranged everyone against the wall. “One last run-through for good measure. Any second now, our homeless contingent should start their distraction out in the streets. After they begin their ruckus, Myles and Kendell will come with me. We need to start a fire in the old bank manager’s office. When the rest of you hear the building’s fire alarms, that will be your cue to get the explosives in place. Don’t move before you hear the alarms. I don’t want anyone caught by some eager-beaver security guard too intent on doing his job to investigate the commotion outside. Five minutes from the alarm, start the fuses. We’ll have three minutes from when you light the Primacord to get back to the loading bay. Understood?”
A succession of grunts went up around Myles. He did his best to imitate the sound.
With no lights and no people, the building finally felt like the seventh gate to hell that Myles had seen in horror movies. As they passed through the lobby, he saw outside fires being lit in the streets and windows being smashed. Kendell said distract, not riot. But there wasn’t much they could do about the homeless contingent at that point. Turning back to the grand staircase, he caught a glint in Kendell’s eyes as she too noticed the mayhem going on throughout the Quarter. He wanted to offer her some comfort but, even with Joe’s careful planning and assurances, feared any word would be picked up on some hidden microphone.
They skirted along the walls as the fires outside began casting light through the windows. Myles wasn’t sure if his eyes had adjusted to the dark or if the ambient light was just strong enough, but either way, he saw Joe raise his hand for the trio to stop.
“Time for you two to do your thing,” Joe said. “As this is a paranormal gate, I fear that, even with Samedi’s assurances, it might take more than lighter fluid and matches to make this room go up in smoke.”
Myles cautiously turned the door handle. Fortunately, it wasn’t locked. Baron Samedi must be expecting us. He crouched low and snuck into the room, followed closely by Kendell and Joe.
Joe dropped his pack, pulled out a couple of books of matches, and tossed f
lashlights to Myles and Kendell. “Find something to burn. Other than these sulfur matches, I’m not sure what will work in here.”
Myles assumed that the room, being of voodoo origin, had enchantments against what they were about to attempt. I doubt the fire department has ever seen the inside of this building. He pulled open the bottom drawers of the desk. “Look at these files. They appear to be the loans Baron Malveaux made that resulted in the borrowers’ women being sent to the brothels.”
“We don’t have time for sightseeing,” Joe said. “Spread the pages out on the floor.”
Kendell pulled the two drawings from Miss Fleur out of the top drawer. “Should we burn these too?”
Myles didn’t consider himself an expert on voodoo. “It might help break the connection Colin has to Serephine.”
Joe pulled ledgers from the bookcases and scattered every burnable item on the wood floor. “I’m only soaking this area in lighter fluid. Even with Samedi’s assurance that the loas will stay out of our activities tonight, in the seat of Malveaux’s power, there’s a good possibility that some random voodoo charm will make the chemicals in this accelerant work opposite to what we intended. Those spells rely on what a person is thinking. For example, I can rationalize that I had the matches for lighting a cigarette, so they should still work, but the only reason I can come up with for carrying lighter fluid into a bank office would be arson.”
Myles grabbed the hipflask of rum he’d stashed inside the black outfit. “I brought this to call forth Baron Samedi in case we get into trouble. Looks like he’ll be getting a flaming libation.” Myles sprinkled the expensive alcohol around the room like holy water.
Joe tossed the large boxes of matches to Kendell and Myles. “No need to be shy. Light every match in the box if you have to. We need to get out of here before the riot in the streets makes it impossible to escape.”