by Gavin Green
The next morning, I made a list of things to do and circled the ones that I wouldn't procrastinate about. First, I called Gwen and apologized for putting her in a tough spot about giving me the names of potential clients. I admitted it wasn't fair, and that I was a complete ass. Then I told her that I'd found a client and that I was officially moving on from Silas Security. Gwen wanted details, but I didn't give her any. Hell, I really didn't have many details to give in the first place. She made me promise to keep in touch, which I had no problem agreeing to. Out of everyone there, I'd miss her the most.
That reminded me to make other calls. Cordell was healing up and would be back at Silas in a week. Diego was finishing his rehab soon, getting his legs stronger every day. Keegan and Deb understood that I had to officially quit because I was accepting a full-time job; I promised to stop in often and actually buy my own drinks. While I was at it, I called a few military buddies I hadn't talked to in a while. I was on the phone for at least half of the day, and didn't feel like it was wasted time.
Just before dinner that evening, I remembered the little pouch Ragna let me have. I sat on my couch and dumped the contents onto the coffee table. There was a thick gold necklace, three jeweled rings, and seven gold coins of all the same type and year. One of the rings was a wide silver band set with a big black onyx stone that I decided to keep. It reminded me of Viggo, and it fit my pinky finger. As for the rest, I needed to do some research unless I wanted some jewelry dealer to bend me over.
I was halfway done with my dinner when there was a knock at my door. A short Asian guy was on my porch with a paper bag in his hand. He said, "Delivery" in broken English, handed it to me and left. Inside the bag was a small container of cashew chicken, an eggroll, and a piece of receipt paper with a written note on it: Behind the restaurant, one hour. Damn, there went my carefree evening. Ragna really needed to get a cellphone.
An hour later, I was in the smelly alley surrounded by dogs. They were scrambling around trying to get at the food that Ragna was tossing out onto the dirty cement. While she kept scooping out handfuls from a big Purina bag in her cart, she told me I was going to keep an eye on Edward again that night. Whoopee. A minute later, she whispered into the ear of one of her dogs, a greyhound mix with a talon necklace around its neck. When she was done, she told me that the mutt would be coming with me. I didn't need the company -nor did I want it - but was grumpily told that it wasn't a polite offer.
I needed to gather a few supplies for another boring recon duty. For the first five minutes of the drive back to my place, that damn dog was fidgety as hell and quickly got on my nerves. Then, all of the sudden, it mellowed out and just sat in the passenger seat looking around. Weird dog, but then again, I could have been stuck with the little terrier with the teeth from hell, so I wasn't going to bitch about it.
Once at my house, the dog followed me in. It roamed around my place while I gathered up what I considered essential for a stakeout: the scope from my rifle, a full flask, and cookies to share with the mutt so it wouldn't eat my seat cushions. I waited while it took a crap in my backyard, and then we were on our way. I'd never had a dog, so I didn't know if I should pet it, talk to it, or just do my own thing. The latter worked; I ignored it, it ignored me, and we had a mellow drive out to Edward's house.
During the time we watched from half a block away, I noticed a couple things. First, the dog was female. Second, she sat in the front passenger seat and was very attentive to any movement in the suburban neighborhood. Third, she would gobble any oatmeal cookies I offered, and then would quickly resume scanning the street and houses. At one point, probably out of boredom, I pointed out Edward's house to her. From then on, the dog's eyes rarely strayed from it. Wow, smart dog, but a little too intense.
About an hour and a half after I parked, one of Edward's garage doors opened. While the SUV backed out, I could see with my scope that Edward sat in the passenger seat, and his minion - Chuck, I think the name was - behind the wheel. I gave them a good head-start and then followed. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the employee lot of a hospital. I kept my distance, killed the lights, and watched through the scope. Edward was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, while Chuck wore the outfit of a maintenance man. Okay, they both worked the late shift there. How convenient.
I drove back to Ragna's seedy area to drop the dog off and give another report. I parked near the alley where she sometimes hung out. Once out of the car, my canine companion took off like she was in a race. The alley was empty except for trash and stench. The Wise Owl Wok was closed. In front of the restaurant doors, however, sat Gungnir. There was a note tied to his talon necklace. He sat calmly while I retrieved it, and then trotted off. The hand-written note said, 'Go home. Another delivery will arrive at noon tomorrow. No drinking.' Well, shit.
MESSENGER
It was sweet and sour pork for lunch the next day. Again, the delivery guy didn't ask for money, but I tipped him anyway. The note from Ragna gave me a mission to perform, but without many details of how to go about it. One of the things it did emphasize was scrawled at the bottom of the receipt paper: 'Get this done now'. Okay, so much for having time to sit down and figuring out a good plan.
I had some info, but could've used a lot more. In the military, all of force recon's operations were very detailed, time-lined and coordinated. My team and I relied on exacting strategies, knowing what variables to expect, and how to react to them. That kind of planning saved lives. So, winging a solo mission with a lot of unknowns didn't exactly thrill me.
An hour later, on a sunny but cool March day, I stood on the small front porch of Edward's house. Dressed casually with a windbreaker and baseball cap, I held the Chinese delivery bag in one hand and rang the doorbell with the other. A few seconds later, a female voice from inside mumbled for me to hold on. I glanced around and made sure the street was still quiet. I was edgy to get on with it.
The woman named Trish opened the door a crack, squinting at me with bleary eyes. She didn't look half as hot with messy hair and no make-up. "What," she moodily demanded.
"Delivery, miss," I replied, trying to act cheerful.
"Dammit, I didn't order anything. You've got the wrong house, fella." She started to shut the door.
"Wait," I quickly said, "I've got the correct address. Here," I said, attempting to show her an old grocery store receipt I'd stapled to the bag. "See?"
Trish opened the front door halfway and leaned around it to look. Damn, she was pretty stupid.
I suddenly kicked the front door, heard it crack. It rammed into Trish and knocked her back into the wide foyer. She landed on her side and slowly started to get up. I sprung into the house, kicked her support arm from under her, and threw my weight on her back. From that position, it only took a few seconds of grappling to get her in a carotid choke. It was a quiet way to put her out, and I didn't have to hit her.
I hurried back to the front door, shut it, and then grabbed my paper bag that I dropped to subdue Trish. I pulled a couple items out of it that I'd wrapped in dishrags. A few seconds later, I heard the squeak of floorboards somewhere down the hall to my right. A door opened, and Chuck shuffled out half asleep. He lazily held a gun in one hand like it was heavy. His other hand was clumsily wiping the sleep from his eyes. He yawned wide while trying to say, "What the hell was that, Trish?"
When his hand dropped away from his face, he was facing a silencer barrel a foot from his face. "Hey there, Chuckles," I said quietly. "Set the gun down slowly."
Chuck did as I said. "Easy, man," he said as he straightened. "Just tell me what you want."
"Nobody'll get hurt as long as you're a good boy," I replied, holding the gun steady on him. "Take three steps back, turn around, and lay on your stomach."
While he followed my orders, he commented, "There's not much to steal here, man."
I put my boot on his gun and kicked it behind me, letting it slide on the hardwood. "I'm not a thief - I'm a messenger." While I kept my gun t
rained on him, I set the paper bag down and pulled out a roll of duct tape. I didn't have any rope at home and was short on time, so I had to improvise.
Between grunts as I hog-tied him, Chuck said through gritted teeth, "This isn't fucking necessary, man. If you're only a messenger, then just give me the goddamn message!"
"It's not for you, Chuckles." I used the last of the tape wrapping it over his mouth. I didn't give a shit if some of his hair got yanked out when he was released - it was a small price to pay for not getting shot.
Since Ragna's note also stated, 'no disguises', I took that to mean she wanted it to be known who was sending the message. Let's face it, a good-sized guy with scars on his face and a big talon necklace on his chest would be easy to remember. I first thought that wearing a ski mask and making an anonymous visit would have been safer, but maybe Ragna's name carried more weight than I thought.
I tied up the unconscious Trish in the same fashion as Chuck, but with a spool of twine. I found some more duct tape in the kitchen junk drawer to put over her mouth. Being cautious, I listened for ten long seconds for any other sounds . . . Nope, nothing. I hurriedly searched the bedrooms for anything of interest, and then checked the garage. I didn't expect to find much, and I was right. I figured that anything important was down in the basement. I mean besides Edward.
COFFIN
The stairs down were carpeted, making for a quiet descent. Half of the basement was finished, including a study, rec room, and a half bath. The rest of the space was hidden behind a set of wooden double doors. I went into the study and found a number of full bookcases. Ragna's note told me to gather any "curious writings", so I made a small pile of anything that looked old, creepy, or written in a foreign language. I also found a few handwritten journals of Edward's warped beliefs.
I tested the double doors at the far end of the rec room, not lucky enough for them to be unlocked. My third shoulder slam took care of that, but ruined any element of surprise. The light from behind me showed a wall five feet in, with a short passage to the left. I backed up a step, waiting for something, anything to come charging out at me. There was no movement, no noise, no pissed off hemo.
With my gun out in front of me, I stepped into the dark room and searched in vain for a light switch. Then I slowly moved along the left wall until I bumped into an end table. A lamp wobbled; I found the shade and stilled it. Before I turned it on, I had to remind myself to breathe.
I was in the corner of what looked like a small studio apartment, with a few differences. First of all, right in the middle of the open space was a coffin. A fucking coffin in a suburban basement - especially creepy since I knew someone was in it. I waited until the hairs on my neck went back down, and then looked around. Framed posters hung on the beige walls - Bauhaus, The Cure, crap like that. I saw only one small basement window; the glass was painted black and mostly covered by a thick curtain. There was a chair and desk in one corner, a sink and shower stall in the other, and a dresser and clothes rack between them. No kitchenette, no toilet - no hemo needed 'em.
I walked over to the coffin, concerned that the upper lid of it would swing open at any second. Set on a sturdy base, the top of it was about four feet high. Its dark wood was smooth and shiny, similar to the one I bought for my mom. I gathered my nerve and used my free hand to lift the top door.
Edward was inside, resting on black velvet. He looked like a corpse, pale and unmoving. His hair was pulled back into a tail, he wore a black t-shirt, and his arms were down along his sides. I kept my gun pointed at him while I pulled out a small bottle of lighter fluid from my jacket pocket, and squirted out a liberal amount on the lower half of the coffin. I was sure the odor would've been enough to wake him up. I was wrong; he was a deep sleeper. I squirted more fluid onto his t-shirt. His eyes fluttered for a few seconds, but that was it. "Fuck it," I said out loud as I took a step back and shot him in the shoulder.
That did the trick. Edward woke up bellowing in surprise and pain. He lifted his head about half a foot before he saw me standing near the coffin. His face began contorting with rage, so I quickly pulled out my grill lighter and clicked the flame on. He hesitated, which gave him time to notice the smell of the lighter fluid. His mouth opened, displaying fangs, and his eyes swiveled around with panic.
"Relax, Mr. Galloway," I said as calmly as I could. "I didn't come here to attack you. The lighter fluid is just a warning. Sorry about shooting you, but dammit, you wouldn't wake up."
Edward glared at me and gained some composure. "Do you think I can't get to you before you set my bed on fire with me in it? Let's find out." His snarl began turning into a hungry grin.
As fast as I could, I swung my arm back and shot a couple bullets through the basement curtain and window. Two soft beams of sunlight landed on the side of his coffin. It wasn't much light coming in, but Edward's eyes went wide and he tried to sink into the velvet padding. "I think I have your attention now, so don't be a pain in my ass, Mr. Galloway. Just listen. First, I'm not going to shoot you again, or set you on fire, or douse you in sunlight unless you make me. I've got options - you don't."
Pressing a hand to his shoulder, Edward looked at me defiantly over the lip of his coffin. "I'll find out who you are, human."
I used the silencer to nudge my owl talon necklace. "That'll tell you all you need to know. Ask around." I took a deep breath and got on with it. "Alright, listen up, sir. You're no longer welcome at the Ovation Community Theater. You're no longer allowed to put up fliers for your Sentinel beliefs. Don't go near any homeless shelters or mental hospitals. In fact, I'm to advise you to leave town as soon as possible. You can preach your stupid faith somewhere else. Otherwise, my boss will start to really dislike you, and I'll find you again. I won't be so nice to your minions the next time, and I won't hesitate to end you like I easily could've today. For your sake, Mr. Galloway, I hope that message was clear enough."
Edward was seething with rage. I never thought I'd use a sentence like that, but he really was. Just so I wouldn't have to worry about him coming after me, I shot the window five or six more times. He pulled his coffin lid shut, and his muffled voice began shouting curses at me.
I yanked down the window curtain and smashed out the rest of the glass with my gun. One shard landed on Edward's desk, next to his wallet. I pocketed that, and picked up the piece of glass to engrave the coffin with, 'you've been warned'.
As I finished cutting the letters into the polished wood, I heard Edward rant, "I call to Rutilia the Red to bring misery to your life! I pray to the Veleti to wrap you in his shadowy embrace!"
I couldn't help it - I started laughing.
LEGEND
I made myself a drink as soon as I got home. I wasn't going to be there long, so I made it a double. Edward's books and wallet - minus the cash - were stacked into a box from my basement. Then I sat down with my Jack and Coke at my computer and googled the addresses of reputable coin and jewelry dealers. From an earlier search, I estimated a ballpark value of the items in the pouch, and then halved it. Even then, I'd have a nice chunk of change - those coins were worth more than I would've guessed.
With the box of books in the back of my car, I went about turning that pouch into cash. After that, I stopped in at Keegan's for a few more drinks. Thinking that I might have another meal at the Wise Owl Wok, I only ordered some pub grub to accompany the alcohol. It was good to see the staff and a few regulars again, with the bonus of making vague plans to get together with Tanya soon. The sky was already dark when I left the bar, so I drove straight over to Ragna's shitty neighborhood and waited in my car outside the restaurant.
I was listening to Glazefinger's latest CD when Gungnir pressed his wet nose against my window. I hurriedly grabbed the box of Edward's books and followed him back to the alley. As expected, Ragna was there with her shopping cart and a pack of dogs milling around her. She waited until I put the box down on the cart's undercarriage before she debriefed me about my messenger mission.
&nbs
p; When Ragna was finished with her questions, she said, "We meet with Fletcher the night after next. Be here at eleven. If you're done bothering me for tonight, you can go drink or fornicate or hit things until then. But be here on time and sober. And for Baldur's sake, wear some less offensive cologne."
I did not understand how her mind worked. I was told to be there, and, considering that I brought news of a successful mission, I thought Ragna would be happy - or at least as close as she came to happy. Her mood swings were like a teenage drama queen's on her period, only a thousand times more dangerous. She switched emotional gears often, and I couldn't see a pattern to it. Per Viggo's order, though, I had to deal with her 'eccentricities'. "Well actually, I do have a few questions if you don't mind, ma'am."
Ragna made a grunt of irritation. "Only for your master do I put up with this. Be quick with what plagues that small mind of yours tonight."
I tell ya, if Ragna wasn't a woman . . . or able to turn my brain into pudding, or able to send a pack of hellhounds to tear me apart, I would've kicked her ass. Yeah, right. I bet she'd laugh if someone planted an ax in her face. It probably would've also improved her looks. "Uh, yes ma'am. First, I was wondering if your pets get smarter after you make them minions. That one you sent with me the other night -"
"I was correct; you're an idiot. I sent Auga - that's her name; it means 'eye'. I sent her with you because, of all my dogs, she has the strongest sight. I used one of my Gifts of Fauna to see through her eyes, as well as her other senses. I now know where Edward Galloway lives. I also know where you live, too. By the way, your bed smells like semen and whiskey, and there's a dead mouse in your hall closet."
Okay, that was more of an answer than I was expecting, but it reminded me to do some cleaning when I got home. "Uh, alright, thanks. Now, about a month and a half ago, Barnabus said something that I'd been meaning to ask about. I think it was like 'lifting the veil'?"