The Blood Eagle in the Big Easy

by K. A. Lange

  Gregory shook his head. “You got me. Look, I got to handle this immediate situation here and try to keep it out of the papers. Go home take a shower maybe get an hour or two of sleep and let’s meet up this afternoon and compare notes.”

  “Thanks. You should try and get some sleep as well.” My stomach growled. “I suppose a bit of food wouldn’t hurt either one of us.”

  Gregory laughed. “You are always worried about that stomach of yours.”

  I shrugged. “I’m a growing boy.”

  Gregory chuckled as he walked back to the CSI unit. I motioned for Kira and the others to follow me, and it wasn’t long before she fell in step beside me. “Something's afoot isn’t it?”

  “We will talk about it when we get back to the office. I have an important package for you to pick up for me.”

  “Really? Errands at this hour and with all this going on?” Kira said flustered.

  “Does it help that I am giving you two strike teams to pick up the package for me?” I asked, amused at her annoyance but also a little pissed at her tone.

  That brought a smile to her face. “Oh really? Two strike teams does sound interesting.”

  I stopped and turned as I gave her a hard look. “You are to use any means necessary to acquire this package for me and if anything gets in your way during your retrieval kill it. Don’t hesitate, just get me that package! Am I clear?”

  I had not meant to be so forceful and it wiped the smile off her face. “I understand. Should I call mother in to assist?”

  “Not yet but if it comes down to it then call her and do whatever it takes, but get the package to me as fast as possible.”

  Kira responded “Of course.”

  Once we got back to work we went up to my office where I wrote down the information she needed. I had given her Owen’s name and general location, reminding her how dangerous this was and suggested she could call her mother to join her if felt like she needed the company. Any fallout over this I would handle at a later time. For now I knew that our very lives hung in the balance with the recovery a single twenty nine year old manling. God what a nightmare!

  Chapter 9

  In the solace of my office I took the time to sift through the memories Galvez had shared with me. As I paced the length of my office my boots kept cadence with some long forgotten tune. The third man with the scar across his left cheek looked familiar yet I was having trouble placing him. I don’t know about you but I eat when I’m stressed. Opening the fridge I nearly dropped my water when I finally realized where I knew the slimeball. The third man in Galvez’s memory was someone I’d met in passing. The scar had muted with age but his other features remained much the same.

  He was an antiques dealer on Royal in the French Quarter. A few months back I was shopping for an antique secretary desk when I stumbled across a particularly odd little shop. It stuck out in my memory because the proprietor gave off an odd vibe, even for the eclectic group of shop owners who reside in the Quarter.

  Something about the place sent shivers up my spine and with my years of experience that reaction in me takes a special kind of deranged psychopath. Pulling my phone out I opened the notepad where I kept track of things that while not immediately important might be worth checking on in the future. The first few pages were full of rumors of dark magic on the outskirts of the Quarter and a couple of missing persons alerts. On page three hit pay dirt ‘Curious George’s Antiques and Unusual Memorabilia’ Royal Street and I marked it with three stars.

  I know what you’re thinking. Men are supposed to have a little black book filled with women's names with a rating system and not some list of strange places and missing people. I suppose this could look odd in a very bad way for me if it fell into the wrong hands. The store owner came off as aggressive and rude which didn’t surprise me given its location, but it was something about his demeanor that sent up red flags. I remember receiving a call on my cellphone and leaving the store, relegating him to the back burner. Today was a good day to revisit that situation, and it was well past time that we had a talk about his activities both past and present. I kind of doubt he will have a future.

  Calmness finally set in. I stopped pacing and sat down in my overstuffed leather chair, allowing myself to get comfortable. A little too comfortable actually. It was already two thirty in the morning and if I hurried I could clean up and pay Creepy George a visit before dawn. For a moment the thought of getting some much needed rest was tempting, but the clock was ticking and the longer I waited the more likely Mr. Creepy would vanish, leaving me completely in the dark. He and I were long overdue for an in depth conversation, and by conversation I meant putting a bullet in his skull, after I got the information I needed of course.

  Pushing myself out of the chair I quickly crossed the room to the solid oak door leading into my private oversized bath. I normally don’t indulge myself, but this was an exception. The far corner of the bathroom was tiled floor to ceiling and enclosed by two huge sections of tempered safety glass. It was more of a sauna than a shower, with jets all around the ceiling and walls. Long tiled benches ran the length of each wall. On most days I would sit as the hot water poured over me, mentally reviewing my day but today I didn’t have that type of time. As the shower warmed up I grabbed a change of clothes.

  As I showered as I stood there letting the water cascade over me as it washed away the harsh reality of the day. It was hardly the first time I had seen a dead body, and honestly I had created more than few over the years. But something about this case haunted me. Something told me I should recognize Gullveig’s handiwork, I just couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was that bothered me.

  Faded memories drifted through the furthest edges of my mind, dark highlighted by different shades of gray like a sound muffled through a windtunnel. There were intense memories there if only I could remember them. I could only hope that the shadows that haunted the dark recesses of my mind would eventually make themselves known.

  Gullveig clearly enjoyed torturing her victims before they died. She relished in the art of delivering pain, suffering and finally death to her victims. While Helena and Galvez were far from decent people I wouldn’t have wished either of their deaths upon them. Both of them tried to escape who they’d become for the betterment and survival of their children. That thought brought me comfort as it reassured me I hadn’t lost my mind or my humanity. They hadn’t deserved to die such cruel deaths, no one did. It was who she was though! If history has taught me nothing else, it’s that man as a species has made brutality an artform, and Gullveig was the Michelangelo and the Leonardo da Vinci of death.

  Thoughts rolled over me as the warmth of the water sank into my flesh as I kept an eye on the clock. Five of the fifteen minutes that I allowed myself to shower had passed already. I thought about how Gullveig was a body jumper and, if Galvez’s memory was true an ancient one. Since she was a being of spirit she could jump from one body to the next without hesitation. It made me wonder why she needed the body of a newborn, and what was her motivation? What was the purpose of inhabiting an infant? She would be at the mercy of others until she was old enough to tend to her own needs. I couldn’t believe she would risk such a thing unless she gained some special benefit from the process, and in all my years I’d never heard of such a boon. Even among her own kind inhabiting a child was always a last resort to ensure their survival as their bodies were ill equipped to handle their spirit form for long. Since jumpers were unable to live more than a few hours without a host I was truly perplexed that she’d chosen an infant and even more surprised that the child had survived so long.

  Three minutes remained as I released all thought, letting my mind unfurl itself. Tension and weariness left my body as I drew in each breath allowing the life force that permeated the world to flow through me. I felt my body vibrate as the power of life itself coursed through my veins. I opened my eyes, narrowed my focus forcing the water off me as I stepped out of the shower. Pulling on a pair of old l
evis and a long sleeve cotton pullover I contemplated on how to proceed with Creepy George. I settled on a direct approach more or less, to catch him in his upstairs apartment. The best way to do that was simply to break in through a window on the second story balcony. I grabbed a belt holster and strapped it on my belt in the middle of my back. The less attention I drew from law enforcement would be preferable. While subtle wasn’t one of my strong suits stealth certainly was.

  The last twenty four hours had been anything but peaceful and I had little doubt that would change in the near future. The man I was about to meet had tried to kill me once before, even if that was twenty years ago. There was little reason to think he wouldn’t try again. The thought of using a high powered rifle and having him drop dead before the soundwave hit was tempting, yet highly counter productive, since I needed information. If it came down to it and I had to kill him, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, just inconvenient as hell.

  Entering the office I found Kira making herself comfortable in my chair. I’m old and a guy to boot, so yes I have a special chair that just so happens to fit me perfectly.

  “Making yourself comfortable?” I inquired, smirking as I walked past her to the safe across the room. “What are you still doing here? I thought you would be on the road by now.” After pulling out one of the PX4’s and slipping it into the waiting holster I turned my attention back to my daughter.

  She eyed me as she carefully considered my attire. “I will be shortly.” She propped her feet up on my desk and smiled. “Thought I would stop in and wish you luck on whatever stupid thing you’re about to do.”

  “Feet off.” I grimaced as she was bound and determined to chip the furniture one day with her overpriced heels. Again I know it sounds like I’m somebody's grandpa but she’d understand one day. As she rolled her eyes she complied. “And why, do you think I’m about to do something ‘stupid’?”

  “I dunno, maybe because you’re sending me out of town on a baby sitting errand!” Pushing herself to her feet as she gave me a sober look. “And you have Gregory doing busy work that anyone here could do ten times faster.” She casually walked around the front of my desk and leaned back as she kept a keen eye on me. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “Alright, you’re wrong.” I said turning my back to her as I grabbed several extra clips from the safe. “I need this ‘Owen’ person brought back here in one piece.” Turning back around Kira’s face was twisted up like she was about to go on the attack. “Before you get all defensive, Owen has something we need to recover on his person. He doesn’t know he has it.” Grabbing my jacket as I made my way back to her I gave her my best ‘please do as I ask’ face. “I’m doing my best to make sure you’re first solo command is as uneventful as possible.” Leaning over I gave her a kiss on the cheek as I smiled brightly. “Its a father’s prerogative!”

  She gave me a quick hug. “I love you too.” She blushed. “I know I don’t say it often enough but I do love you dad.”

  My heart swelled with pride. She was a good girl, and I couldn’t have asked for more in a child. Well, maybe less attitude but even that was alright. “Be careful out there.” I opened the office door and bowed as she walked through.

  “You should think about one of those new ergonomic chairs for your back.” She laughed as she strolled toward the stairs. “Your desk chair in there is lumpy in all the wrong places and dear god it is just so old and out of style.”

  “Don’t even think about replacing it!” Shaking a finger at her I couldn’t help but smile. “It took me thirty years to break that one in the way I like it.” Closing the door behind us I followed her down the stairs.

  It was just after three in the morning when I left my office and made my way down Barracks Street. Barracks was one of the nicer streets that ran the length of the French Quarter perpendicular to Bourbon. Over the last several years developers had refurbished many of the older buildings turning them into expensive condominiums that catered to those individuals who wanted to be part of the French Quarter in crowd. During the past year two different real estate developers had offered me nearly enough money for my building to be able to demolish it to rebuild an exact replica in not even a block away. Passing Burgundy I caught site of Cabrini Park as it lay nearly empty, dark and slightly depressing as the homeless huddled in the far corner. It wasn’t until I passed Dauphine Street that the stench of stale beer, mildew and some acidic aroma mixed with freshly brewed coffee with chicory overwhelmed my sense of smell completely. Of all the places in the world that I had been to this particular mixture of scents was uniquely New Orleans.

  Two blocks later I made a right on Royal Street. ‘Curious George's’ shop was a block and a half from Barracks Street in a row of two story buildings. The lower floors were used for business while the second story served an apartment for the proprietor. Creepy George fell into this category while his neighbor used the upstairs as storage allowing me to scale the wall and onto his neighbor's balcony without any worry of being spotted.

  The lights in Creepy Georges apartment suddenly came on. I froze in place, afraid he had somehow detected my presence. Ducking below the wrought iron railing I prayed that I would go unnoticed. From this angle I could see through the livingroom and kitchen windows which were just a couple of yards away. Creepy George strode nude through the living room and into the kitchen where he turned on the coffee maker. When he bent at the waist to grab the sugar from one of the lower cabinets I felt a little ill as I saw more than I would have cared to see of his nether region.

  He walked back through the house, stopping in the living room to open the windows allowing the fresh air in. It wasn’t long after he disappeared from view that I heard the running water of a shower. Carefully and quietly I crept over the wrought iron railing and through the open window. Focusing my will I felt the hum of my shields as they wrapped themselves around me.

  Waiting outside the bedroom I listened closely, waiting for him to step into the shower. Once I heard the shower stall door close I waited a few minutes longer for him to be at his most vulnerable. I know it’s rude as hell to plan on kicking the shit out of someone when they are in the shower because lets face it, we are all afraid of something happening to us one day. Didn’t mean I wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation just meant I knew it was rude. Once I was sure he was otherwise occupied I walked through the bedroom door and into the bath.

  “Good morning Creepy Geor...” As I entered the room I turned to my right reaching for my weapon. Most people don’t want to get into the thick of things when they are naked and soapy. George was neither of these things as the shower door exploded sending shards of glass through the air embedding themselves everywhere. The glass harmlessly shattered against my shields even though I was caught completely by surprise.

  George had quickly dressed and laid in wait and was now barreling through the broken door screaming at me. Hitting me like a freight train I flew across the room shattering the mirrored wall on impact. His fists slammed against my shields like sledgehammers and I felt them weaken with each impact. I caught him in the ear with a wicket right hook causing him to stagger back giving me room to get my footing. He quickly recovered throwing an elbow at my face which I blocked and brought up my knee into his midsection. Feeling a rib break I thought he might see reason and surrender. Damn was I ever wrong.

  George drew back and kicked me for all he was worth, lifting me off the floor and slamming me into the far wall. Turning around quickly I threw a wicked kick to his midsection knocking him through the open door, giving me enough time to get to my feet before he charged again. George slammed his fist against my shields bloodying his knuckles. He grabbed me and flung me against the bathroom vanity causing more of the broken mirror to crash to the floor. As George came at me I brought my fists down into his shoulders driving him to the floor. Jumping off the counter I found myself being slammed into the bedroom before my feet ever hit the floor.

  George was out the bathroom
door in a flash grabbing a baseball bat that was propped against the wall as he passed. “You should’ve stayed away. I was content to let you live but as you can see things have changed” he growled.

  George was stronger and faster than he should have been, an absolutely terrible combination when you are trying to whip someone’s ass, which he was doing to mine at the moment. And now he was armed with a bat! I didn’t know how much more my shields would take before he caved in my skull.

  Shunting more of my will into the shields to fortify them, I rolled to my feet. “How have things changed, George?”

  George stopped suddenly and laughed. “You’re here to kill me like you did the others.” He shook his head as he circled me trying to find the right opening for his kill shot. “I won’t lie down and die like the others!” He closed the distance between us as he swung the bat wildly at my head. “It’s time for you to die Viktor!”

  Sidestepping his attack I grabbed his batting arm and used his momentum causing him to land hard face first on the livingroom floor.

  “I didn’t kill the others!” I yelled as I speared him in the back as he tried to get to his feet. Forcing his face back into the floor and breaking his nose, I forced my knee down on this back. I felt another one of his ribs give way under my weight before he was able to again throw me across the room. “Your old friend Gullveig is back collecting her toys!”

  He rolled to his feet with fear in his eyes. “You lie!” George charged me as I tried scrambling out of his way. “She died the day you raided the farm!” He slammed one of his meaty fists against the shields protecting my face causing me to lurch sideways. “When the gas main blew you buried her in the caverns below.” George kicked me slamming me into the unopened living room window. “Maybe its time you joined her in the hereafter!”

  His entire right hand was covered in a red glowing mist which coalesced into a solid red sphere. He hurled it across the room with all his might, slamming into my shields and enveloping them. I tried to brace for the impact but failed miserably. I was thrown bodily through the window and the balconies wrought iron railing. Landing on the far side of Royal Street with a very unsatisfactory thud, all I could do was moan as it knocked the wind out of me. George ran out on the balcony, and seeing that I wasn’t dead he decided to finish the job. He took a few steps back before jumping off the balcony.