Jamie and Ríordán turned to see Eileen enter the living room. “You didn’t think you could get up without me knowing did you?” she asked Jamie, sitting down beside him.
“I used to get out of bed before you every morning with barely a grunt,” he replied with a grin.
“Yes, before you became ill—when you’d go watch your ‘honey’ on Headline News,” Eileen agreed. “Now, I hear you when you get up, especially when you’re not supposed to be up yet.”
“Hey,” Jamie protested. “I watched HLN for the news, sports, and weather, nothing more. I can’t help it if they choose to put someone like Robin in front of the cameras.”
Eileen cuffed him on the shoulder. “Try selling that to someone who’s buying, boyo. I knew you’d not sleep well before something like this. You did the same the night before any big operation.”
Jamie smiled. “Was I that transparent?”
“At least to me.” Eileen stood. “I’ll make some coffee and something to eat.”
“Indeed. Can’t lead an assault on an empty stomach.”
Over the next half hour, everyone trickled into the living room and dining room. The druid and the witch sat at the dining room table. Ríordán joined them and the three were soon in quiet discussion. The twins and Louie were the last to rejoin the group.
No one said anything for several minutes. Each was lost in their own thoughts as they contemplated what lay ahead. Finally, Daphné walked to the front door and opened it. After cracking the storm door and peering outside for a moment, she shivered and shut the doors. “As if the cold wasn’t enough, it’s started snowing again.”
“How hard is it snowing?” Jamie asked.
Daphné waggled her hand. “Meh. Not enough to cause problems, at least not yet.”
She rejoined the others, and they finished eating in silence. Silence still hung over everyone like one of the black clouds that scudded above the house. When they were finished, they rejoined the others, who had moved into the living room.
Jamie looked at everyone and nodded. “Okay then—are we ready to do this?”
“No,” Ríordán said, sadness shading his voice. “No, but I know we’re going to do it anyway.”
“Do ye have any other suggestions, laddie?” Lucy asked.
“For the third and final time: no,” the fili said, then closed his eyes.
Jamie took a long drink of coffee. “Let’s review then. We need two vehicles. Eileen will drive the Honda, with Louie, Hanrahan, Ríordán, and me. The twins will take Lucy in their car.”
“You don’t get motion sick, do you?” Daphné asked, earning herself a punch from Darcelle.
“We’ll lead,” Jamie continued, without commenting on another interruption. “If we get separated, I plan to head up the 93 and head down Hull Street off Causeway. The streets should be deserted, but we need to drive slow. Just not so slow as to attract the attention of any cops still on the prowl for drunks.”
“So you’re leading,” Daphné put in, turning her shoulder to avoid another punch from her twin.
“Exactly.” Jamie looked at the druid, fili, and cailleach. “I know the twins, Louie, and I have been re-checking our weapons and our ammo. What preparations do the three of you have left?”
Hanrahan looked at Ríordán and Lucy, and then nodded as he turned back to Jamie. “Nothing. We have prepared ourselves as much as reasonably possible.”
“Okay then,” Jamie said. “Once we reach Sedecla’s block, we’ll take a ‘look-see.’ If anything seems suspicious, speak up. One cell phone in each car will be on speaker. I would rather call this off and regroup than do anything stupid.”
“Attacking the witch is stupid,” Ríordán said, re-opening his eyes.
“Look,” Jamie said, exasperation getting the better of him. “Enough negativity, okay? If you want out, fine—you’re out. Otherwise, we’ve all got enough to worry about without listening to a running commentary of bitching and moaning from you.” He stared at the fili for several seconds. At length, Ríordán nodded, but said nothing. “Okay then, once we determine that it’s a ‘go,’ we park as close as we can to Sedecla’s townhouse.”
“Which is where I get dumped like unwanted baggage,” Eileen grumbled.
“Which is where you stay, as our back-up,” Jamie corrected. “You have a critical role in this, my love. I want someone at point outside the place to call in reinforcements.”
“Like the sound of gunfire won’t bring in the cops?” Louie asked.
“Maybe not,” Jamie replied. “Do you know how easy it is for sound to be muffled, especially in older buildings like that? Or how often people insist gunfire is something else—a backfire, for example?”
“Are they likely to mistake automatic weapons for lots of backfires?” Darcelle asked. Louie had insisted upon using a Micro UZI he had retrieved from a storage unit.
Jamie shook his head. “Louie, if you’re gonna use that spray gun, you’re at the front of the group, not the rear. I’m not standing in front of you if you’re using an UZI.”
Louie grunted. “Fine by me. I’m not about to go into a trap like this without enough firepower. I plan to have my pistol too, Mick, but we’re going in against a shitload more men than we have, and they probably have automatic weapons.
“There are more ways to neutralize the defenders than firearms,” Hanrahan observed.
“Maybe ways that you trust,” Louie replied, “but Mama Lombardi’s boy didn’t get to be this old by taking stupid chances.”
“So you’re not going along?” Darcelle asked sweetly.
“Enough,” Jamie said, knowing the two would argue non-stop if he didn’t step in. “You two are way too alike.” They both started to object, but stopped when Jamie held up his hand. “Hush. Back to my original point. Eileen is going to call in back-up once the action starts inside.”
“Why not before?” Lucy asked.
“Because the police can’t do anything unless there is an obvious situation.”
“Ye cannot call them before we go in?”
“I could,” Jamie admitted, “but then we’d encounter resistance to our plan to go in. It’s not legal, even though we’re all convinced it’s moral.” He looked around for any more comments and, finding none, continued. “Okay, once inside, everything’s going to happen pretty damned fast.” He looked at the others and paused. “Louie may have an understanding of this, but I doubt the rest of you do. When the bullets start flying and whatever else starts happening, it’s easy to get overwhelmed, especially if it’s your first firefight. The important thing to remember is to stay calm and not freeze.”
“Not freezin’ up is the key,” agreed Louie. “You gotta trust your instincts and act. No thinkin’, no wonderin’, no sayin’ to yourself, ‘Holy shit, I’m dead.’ If you do anything but act, you will be dead.”
“And I’m being negative?” Ríordán demanded.
“We’re not being negative,” Jamie insisted. “We’re being pragmatic and as honest as possible. I’ve seen too many rookie cops wounded or killed because no one sat them down and talked to them this way before they got into action. You can’t really know what it’s like until you’ve been there. You can only hope to make it through so you have a better idea what to expect next time.”
“This isn’t exactly reassuring me, you know darlin,’” Eileen observed.
Jamie reached out and took her hand. “Well, the fact that I’ve been through this several times over the years and come out relatively unscathed should reassure you.”
“Yeah, but how many firefights you been in since you got sick?” Louie asked.
Jamie shrugged and nodded. “Point taken, but my instincts are still true—I’m just going to have to take into account the fact that I can’t do everything as quickly or as well as I used to.”
“So then what do we do once we’re inside?” Daphné asked.
“You follow the leaders, you keep your eyes and ears open, and you pray you’re quick e
nough and alert enough to stay alive.” Jamie looked at the druid. “Hanrahan, you’re in the lead as well as Uzi Louzi and one of the twins. We need you to lead us to Sedecla or her power source.”
“The witch will not be far from her power source,” Hanrahan rumbled. “If she is truly anticipating us, she will be with it at all times.”
“Then our goal is to reach her in once piece.”
“Whadda we do then?”
“We play it by ear,” Jamie replied. “We have to destroy her power source to have any chance of defeating her. Once we find it and destroy it, the odds should be better, correct?”
“Better, but not good,” Hanrahan agreed.
“Don’t start,” Jamie warned. “One ‘Negative Nelly’ is enough. Lucy and I will follow the first three. Ríordán and the other twin will be the rearguard.”
“How are we going to decide which of us leads and which of us follows?” Darcelle asked.
“We don’t,” Jamie replied. “That’s up to the two of you. Just don’t kill each other deciding. There’s going to be plenty of action at the front and at the rear.” Jamie looked around the room for any further questions or comments. Seeing none, he looked at his watch. “Okay then, it’s 3:30. Everyone be ready to roll by four.”
They broke up into groups then—the twins went upstairs for a private moment, the three mystics went to the back porch, and Louie reached into a pocket and pulled out a cigar.
“I thought you were supposed to give those up?” Jamie asked.
“Like this is gonna be what kills me tonight?” he demanded, gesturing with the cigar, then he stumped to the front porch to smoke.
Eileen looked at Jamie, her eyes large and unblinking. “I know, my love. I know,” he said, pulling her into an embrace.
“No you don’t,” she whispered, choking back a sob. “You’ve never known. I’ve always had this icy lump of terror living inside me. It’s usually small, but every time you walk out that door to go to work, it begins to grow. If the phone rings while you’re gone, it explodes, freezing my entire body. If the doorbell rings, if I see an unmarked car go by, if I hear about something terrible on the radio or read about a firefight online—it’s like part of me just freezes and smashes into a million pieces.” Eileen pushed away and looked at Jamie. “That same seed of fear has also planted itself in your daughters as they’ve come to understand the true nature of your work. You don’t know, Jamie. You can’t.”
“Not the same way, perhaps,” he disagreed quietly, “but I do know my own fear— fear of not coming back to you or coming back maimed. That’s a pretty powerful fear as well, lass. Besides, you knew what you were getting into when you said, ‘I do’ all those years ago.”
“True,” Eileen said as she stood, “but I don’t have to like it. I’ll never like it.”
Jamie held onto her hand for a moment longer, and then they got ready to leave.
* * * *
The roads were snow-covered, but the lack of traffic at this hour, on this day, made the drive quicker than Jamie had feared. No one spoke much, except for a couple of quiet observations here and there about the weather or the traffic. The radios were off, and Jamie’s cell phone was already on, in speakerphone mode, placed on the center console between Eileen and him.
They exited the 93 and crept from plowed streets onto Hull Street, which might not see a plow until later in the day. The trees, which leaned over the street like eavesdroppers, tipped with ice and wet snow. The grave markers in the cemetery were also snow-covered, making strange silhouettes in the darkness. A handful of pale ghostly beams shone out of Sedecla’s upper story windows. The rest of her townhouse was dark.
Jamie peered intently at the windows, seeking any clue as to whether they had been spotted. As Eileen slowed to a crawl, Jamie spoke. “Any warning bells?”
In response to the straggled chorus of “no’s,” Jamie nodded. “Okay then, let’s keep moving. We’ll find places to park on the far side of Copp’s Burial Ground.”
“What if there’s no open spots?” Darcelle asked. They had not seen any open parking spaces so far. People were already home from their New Year’s Eve revels.
“We’ll double park and slide “Police Business” cards onto the dash of each car.”
“Plus, I’ll be with the cars,” Eileen added.
“Yeah, but how’s she gonna know when to call in the troops?” Louie asked.
“We’re going in with my cell phone on speaker, connected to Eileen’s,” Jamie replied. “Plus, once you start laying down fire with your peashooter, I think everyone in the North End will hear.”
“Make fun of it if you want, Mick. It may save your skinny Irish ass.”
“Stop lookin’ at my ass,” Jamie replied in mock horror.
Louie just grunted in response.
As they reached the north side of the cemetery, across from Copp’s Hill Terrace, Jamie chuckled. “Well, I’ll take good signs wherever I can find them.” He pointed to several empty spots just before the alley at the eastern edge of the terrace. “Pull in there:—the cars won’t be visible from Sedecla’s townhouse.” Eileen and Darcelle pulled to the curb, parked the cars, and turned off the engines.
“Final checks, people,” Jamie said in a soft, commanding voice.
Everyone silently checked their weapons and magical accoutrements. After a couple of minutes, Jamie spoke again. “Okay, here’s how we’re going to approach—just past this building,” he said, pointing across the street, “are some trees. I’m pretty sure if we zigzag our way through the cemetery, we can stay out of sight most of the way by keeping to the tree cover.”
“You make this sound like a military operation,” Ríordán scoffed.
“Most police assaults are conducted in a military fashion because you are engaging an enemy, just like an attack force. If you don’t think Sedecla has sentries posted, you’re a fool. I’m not going to give them any more warning than absolutely necessary.” Hearing no more comments, Jamie continued. “We cross to Hull Street in the same order I described for our search inside. Everyone wait in the stand of trees on the north side of Hull, across from Sedecla’s townhouse.”
“Wunnerful,” Louie groused, “and what are we gonna do once we get there other than stand around and freeze our asses off?”
“I voted for some C4 or dynamite,” Darcelle chimed in over the cell phone link.
“That would sure announce our presence,” Daphné added.
“Yeah, and probably eliminate our presence as well,” Jamie replied. “None of us are explosive experts, and no matter what you’ve seen in the movies, you don’t screw around with that stuff.”
“So what’s your plan?” Darcelle asked.
Jamie reached into a small duffel bag and pulled out a steel device that resembled a staple gun. “From what I recall, the outer door to Sedecla’s townhouse is secured with a standard mechanical deadbolt lock. If that’s still the case, I’ve got a Lockaid.”
“What if Sedecla has changed the lock?” Lucy asked.
“The Lockaid will pick any mechanical lock,” Jamie replied. “If she’s changed to an electronic lock—and I saw a door in the entryway with an electronic keypad—I’ve got several options.”
He took out some wires, a small box, and a plastic case. For the benefit of those in the other car, Jamie described each item. “There are several methods for getting past electronic locks. One method is ‘spiking.’ You remove the keypad, fish inside until you find the internal wires that control the lock, pull those wires out, and short the lock into opening. Another method involves using a super-strong magnet.” Jamie held up the box, which had skull and crossbones on the side. “This magnet is so strong, it’s dangerous to use around any electronics, including pacemakers. You slap it against a magnetic lock and trick the lock’s magnetics into opening.”
Finally, Jamie took out a small sledgehammer. “If all else fails, there’s the low-tech approach—you can smash most lock panels with this, reach
in, and open the lock manually.”
“Shit,” Louie swore. “I thought those locks were supposed to be foolproof.”
“Nothing’s foolproof, Lombardi. Someone always finds a way to get past any security system.”
“And once we’re inside?” asked Hanrahan.
“Once we’re inside, you’re in charge of any of the hocus-pocus stuff,” Jamie replied. “We fight our way to Sedecla, destroy her power source, and see what happens next.”
“Once I hear all hell breaking loose,” Eileen said, “I call 911 and tell them to get Sully.”
“Right,” Jamie agreed. “He’ll contact Hamilton and Da.”
“Yeah, but we’re in Boston now, not Dorchester,” Louie objected.
“Dorchester has primary responsibility, but the closest units will respond.” Jamie paused for any more questions or comments. “Okay, boys and girls—let’s do this.” Doors opened in both vehicles, and Jamie felt the frigid air rush into the car.
Eileen pulled him back and kissed him. “You watch yourself, Séamus Edward Griffin.”
“Aye, ma’am. That’s the plan.” Jamie kissed her back and then got out and closed the door.
Eileen waited a minute, and then her phone rang. “I’m here, love,” she told Jamie.
“Be seeing you soon lass.”
Eileen said nothing. She just watched the seven figures disappear into the snowy night.
* * * *
Sedecla staggered from her ritual chamber and allowed her maidservant to help her to a small couch. “Kaffeh,” she croaked. Zahava murmured her assent and hurried to comply. “Fruit and cheese as well,” Sedecla called to the retreating form.
Having completed Shaligu, the penultimate path in the Qliphotic Tunnel, Sedecla was forced to rest and take nourishment. The effort was costing her in many ways—her complexion, normally smooth and tanned, was becoming grainy and sallow. Overlapping, dark circles sagged beneath her large hazel eyes. She had lost weight, which made her look almost skeletal. She was sleeping little, and what sleep she did get was unrefreshing. Her hair, normally glossy black, was dull and lifeless. Nonetheless, she glowed from the power that was now at her disposal.
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