by Paul Neuhaus
Henaghan folded her arms. “Marching orders from who?”
“The home offices,” Ferley said. “Tilted and Resolute headquarters. West coast branches.”
The redhead nodded, pointing back and forth to both guys. “And which is which?”
“I’m Tilted and he’s Resolute,” Nate said.
Ferley turned to his companion (or was it his rival?) and said, “I thought I was Tilted and you were Resolute.”
Quinn shifted her weight. “You don’t know what side you’re supposed to be on?”
Nate turned away to flick his cigarette butt into a vacant area of the lot. “Man, does it even really matter?”
“It’s weird you both being here like this,” Henaghan said. “If you pay attention to the grapevine, it says the Jihma and the Dharmin aren’t exactly on good terms these days.”
“Fake news,” Ferley said.
The girl took a deep breath. “You guys want the bird…”
“That’s what the guys in the corner offices told us. ‘Get that bird,’ they said. As you can imagine, Tilted and Resolute have tracked that statue through all its weird meanderings. We’re talking literally hundreds of years. Us, we just go where we’re told.”
“We’re what you call Blue Collar magicians.”
Their forthright manner amused Quinn. “You seem awfully chummy.”
Nate’s eyes grew distant. “The road is a lonely place sometimes,” he said.
Ferley nodded. “A man can go through a lot of changes.”
Quinn laughed. “You guys’re weird. Plus you don’t seem all that invested in your jobs. Are you even up to speed?”
“If by up to speed you mean we know Captain Lennon left you with a package before he cacked and then you took said package and stowed it in a locker at the bus station, then, yeah, we’re up to speed,” Nate said.
“Don’t forget about the swish breaking into their apartment last night.”
Nate nodded. “Right, the swish did do that.”
Henaghan’s face crinkled. “I don’t think I like that word.”
“What? ‘Swish’?” Ferley asked.
Quinn nodded.
“You’ll have to forgive us,” Nate said. “We were born in the twentieth century. We ain’t woke.”
“Where do you think I stashed the key?”
Ferley rubbed his naked chin. “If I were you, I’d keep it on my person at all times.”
Henaghan nodded again. “And do either of you have the stones to come and take it?”
“Shit,” Nate said. “They don’t pay me enough for that kinda complication.”
Ferley agreed.
“So, what’s the plan here, fellas?”
“The plan is,” Nate said, taking out and lighting another cigarette. “We watch and we wait. If an opportunity presents itself, we’ll seize that opportunity.”
Quinn smiled again. “And if there’s no opportunity?”
“If, after all is said and done, we get squoze-out, we’ll fudge the paperwork. We’ll tell home base you shuffled off to Vegas and we’re obliged to follow. We’re talking gambling and whores on the company dime.”
Ferley, who was apparently fully onboard with this plan, borrowed Nate’s lighter to start a new cigarette of his own. Quinn laughed at the two guys and their hedonistic approach to stake-outs. “Okay, well, I’ll see you around,” she said, heading back to her car.
“Oh, you definitely will,” Ferley said to her back.
“Don’t pay us no mind, though,” Nate added.
As Quinn got into the Prius, a banging on the car’s hood startled her. It was Molly. She had her cellphone in one hand and was swatting Henaghan’s ride with the other. She wore an ecstatic expression. The redhead looked through the gap between the door and the body of the vehicle. “What’s going on?”
“House,” Blank said.
Quinn was confused. “House?” she said.
The brunette walked around the car until she was looking down at her partner. “My cousin KiKi—she lives in the Valley—she—” Molly stopped when she noticed Ferley and Nate. “Oh, hello, stalkers,” she said to them.
“Hello,” said Ferley.
“Hi, pretty lady,” said Nate.
The formalities aside, Blank returned her attention to Quinn. “KiKi—I don’t think you ever met her. She’s my uncle Dale’s daughter.”
“I don’t know KiKi or uncle Dale. We talking Cam’s side or Sheila’s?” Henaghan asked.
Blank blinked. “Doesn’t matter. Kiki has a house in Burbank only her mom is really sick so she has to go to Wichita. The situation is pretty fucked-up, and it’ll be a permanent move. Anyway, she’s a highly-motivated seller and she’s giving me dibs. I told her I couldn’t do it on my own, but maybe, with you and me together… Anyway, I really, really wanna go there and take a look at it. I mean I’ve seen it before but you haven’t. If we could—”
Some of the younger woman’s good mood melted away. “Oh, Molly, I dunno. I mean that’s a big step, and we’re not exactly rolling in green right now.”
From the other side of the parking lot, Ferley said, “Listen to your woman. As crazy as the L.A. housing market is, you should stretch in whatever way you can if you’re getting fire sale prices.”
“You ain’t lying,” Nate added. “Situation down here’s almost as bad as it is in Frisco.”
Quinn sighed and turned to the two men. “Could you guys stick to staking me out and lay off the real estate advice?”
Both Nate and Ferley raised their hands apologetically. “We don’t stick our two cents where it ain’t wanted,” Nate said.
“Thank you,” Henaghan said and she returned her attention to her girlfriend. “I’ve got concerns,” she said.
Molly hadn’t lost her enthusiasm. “I know, I know, and you’re right to have them. Will you at least look at the house?”
Quinn sat for a moment in silence. Finally, she said, “I will look at the house, yes.”
Blank jumped up and down twice and then bent down to kiss the younger woman. She sprang back up the stairs, happy.
As Henaghan moved to shut her door, Ferley said, “You’re making the right decision. Housing’s a twisty business.”
“Amen,” Nate said. “Plus, if I had a woman that looked like that, I’d do anything I could to keep her happy.”
“Heard that,” Ferley said and the two men bumped fists.
Quinn smiled in spite of herself. She said goodbye and shut the driver’s side door. The stalkers waved as she drove away.
The drive out to the Valley was lighter on traffic than Quinn expected. An unlooked-for blessing. She pulled her car into a public lot near Celestial Pictures and locked her car. After making sure no one was nearby, she rose into the air and became invisible, a trick she’d picked up during her training with Darren. The lot she’d chosen was within sight of the Gray Tower, the skyscraper housing Celestial’s corporate offices. Ephraim Zilberschlag had the entire top floor. When she was high enough to peer into his window and see him inside, Henaghan adjusted her density and passed through the glass without damaging either it or herself. When she was in front of his desk, she made herself visible again and landed on the lavish carpet.
Zilberschlag looked up from a thick contract and said, “What the fuck’re you doing here?”
“Do you mind if I sit?” the girl said.
The old man, his shirt and tie more expensive than Quinn’s car, shook his head. “I didn’t invite you here, but, sure, park your ass.”
“We need to talk.”
Ephraim smiled. He had a Basil Rathbone face. Sharp cheekbones and an aquiline nose. “Did you beat this out of David Olkin or did he squeal all on his own?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quinn said sweetly.
He dropped his Montblanc on top of the contract and leaned back. “I’ll deal with David later. What’s on your mind, honey?”
“Don’t call me ‘honey’. I understand you want to c
ut off my salary at American Consolidated…”
Zilberschlag gave a single nod. “That’s right. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t work at American Consolidated anymore.”
“Don’t get cute,” Quinn said. “You and I both know it’s compensation for services rendered. Services you weren’t polite enough to ask me if I wanted to perform. I hear that, since I bumped off your founder, you’ve come up in the world.”
“Are you implying I should thank you?”
“No, I’m saying you should thank me. And you can do that by not touching my salary.”
Ephraim’s tone became condescending. “Let me explain something to you… I’m here in this tower because I think in a certain way. You’re… wherever it is you are because you think in another. It’s unlikely we’ll ever have a meeting of the minds on this issue of salary.”
“Have it your way,” Henaghan said. “Do you have a wife, Mr. Zilberschlag?”
“I have five, each one with her hooks deeper into me than the last.”
“Safe to say they’re not particularly fond of you?”
“Their lawyers are are in love with me. The ex-wives, not so much.”
“What about kids? Do you have any kids?”
“None, thank Christ.”
“Good to know,” Quinn said, standing. She walked back around the desk.
When the girl reached his window, Ephraim smiled. “Ah. I see. That’s a threat.”
“Given I’m the one that did something for you you weren’t man enough to do yourself, you should think a little more about our places in the world. Relative to one another.”
Zilberschlag’s smile was patronizing. “Oh, I will. Believe me.”
Henaghan found herself wanting to smack the cutesy expression off the old man’s face. Lest she give in to temptation, she willed herself to rise above the fancy carpeting.
“One question before you go,” the executive said. “A boat entered the port of Los Angeles a few days ago bearing a precious cargo. Before I could take possession of that cargo the ship was burned and the captain fled—presumably with the item in question. Do you know anything about that, Ms. Henaghan?”
“I might. But I don’t think we’ll ever have a meeting of the minds on that issue.”
“I disagree,”Ephraim said. “In fact, I’d say it might represent a solution to our little problem. To put it directly: Give me the bird and I can guarantee you’ll be well-off for the rest of your days.”
“That’s the second time you’ve tried to extort me. I’ll take it under advisement.” The girl rendered herself invisible and passed through the glass into the warm Valley air.
Quinn’s feet touched the ground near her Prius and she again became visible. She pulled the car key out of her jeans pocket and unlocked the door. As she opened the door, a voice from behind said, “Miss Henaghan?” She turned to see Matt Abrigo along with a huge man on either side of him. She started to say something pithy but was suddenly hit with searing jolt of electricity. It rocketed through her body and, Quinn thought, attacked her at her magical core. It was a weapon for dealing with Channelers. She fell to the ground, immobilized but still conscious. The three men, checking for witnesses, stooped and picked her up, one man under each shoulder and another on her feet. Their burden in hand, they shuffled a short distance to an unmarked white van with its back doors open. They tossed her in, Matt Abrigo came into the back with her, and the two others slammed the doors. A short time later, the other two guys appeared on either side of the cockpit and they were underway.
All Quinn could think was, Why did I not see the van on my way down? Sloppy. Fucking sloppy.
“I am so sorry,” Abrigo said as he rolled Quinn over onto her back and snapped a pair of handcuffs onto her wrists. Right away, Henaghan knew they weren’t a normal set of cuffs. The shock Abrigo had given her had made her helpless. The cuffs cut off her access to maya altogether. As long as the restraints were on her, she wouldn’t be able to perform magic. He rolled her back over and her hands were under her. It was a painful position, but she was unable to make even the most incoherent of sounds. “I’m not a creepy guy,” Matt went on. “I don’t take any pleasure in making you helpless if that’s what you think. You just have something I want.” With that he dug his hands into her front pockets and came up empty. Nothing but lint. “Actually, let me rephrase that. You have an inanimate object in your possession that I want. This is already an unpleasant situation so I don’t wanna be painted with that brush, too.” He rolled her over onto her side. “I’m gonna have to put my hands in the vicinity of your ass now. This is in no way designed to be erotic.” With that, he dug in her back pockets and, again, came up with nothing. He leaned over so he could look down at her. “Is this more comfortable or did you like it better on your back? Blink once for side and twice for back.” Quinn blinked once and Abrigo left her where she was.
Quinn hadn’t realized it at the time, but Abrigo had taken her oversized purse along with him when he and his friends absconded with her. He picked it up and Henaghan heard him rifling through it behind her. When he finished, he sighed and dumped its contents onto the bare floor of the van. He sifted through every object before gathering them all up again and returning them to the bag. “Whelp,” he said. “It’s definitely not here. Where’d you put the locker key?”
The redhead rolled her eyes in frustration. She wasn’t looking at Abrigo nor could she speak.
Abrigo guessed this was the problem. “Don’t worry. The tase I gave you’ll wear off in a little while. The cuffs’ll still be on—and I’m guessing you know what they do—but, otherwise, you’ll be able to talk and move around.”
The man fell silent for a while and all Quinn could hear was the sound of the van’s engine and the road rolling by underneath them. Henaghan wasn’t Batman. She couldn’t guess their destination based on the distance they were traveling and the turns they were taking.
Wherever they were headed, it’d have to be a surprise.
At last the van came to a stop. Matt Abrigo’s two friends got out but they didn’t go immediately to the back to open the doors. First, came a sound from behind the vehicle. The sound of two enormous doors sliding shut. Then the van popped open to admit a gray light. They were in an empty aircraft hangar with tinted windows.
Abrigo slid out of the back of the van and helped the other two men carry Quinn as they’d carried her in the parking lot. They moved her around the boxy vehicle and put her down in a director’s chair. Next to her was another chair, this one empty. In front of her was a slide projector and, beyond that, a white screen. Otherwise, she was in the middle of a great big empty. Matt put Henaghan’s purse down on the floor next to her and sat down in the unoccupied chair. The two goons remained standing.
Quinn still couldn’t turn her head so she wasn’t surprised when a new man appeared in front of her from her right side. He walked into the center until he was standing in front of the screen. He was bald, and fit and wore black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. The whole left side of his face was a ruined mess—not because of any normal circumstance but because of some profound injury. Acid, Quinn guessed. “You shouldn’t have made it this far,” he said, sounding, at first, quite ominous. The fellow spoke with an Israeli accent. “If Mr. Abrigo had found the locker key, he would’ve returned you to your car so that you could recover enough to drive home. We’re not interested in hurting you, but we must have that statue.”
Quinn surprised herself by saying, “Good for you.” Her words were slurred enough that she sounded either drunk or impaired.
“Get her some water,” the Israeli said. One of Abrigo’s two goons stepped out of view and returned a moment later with a Dixie cup. He held Henaghan’s chin while he poured the water into her mouth. She accepted the drink willingly. When she was through, the goon resumed his position behind her. The handcuffs bit into her wrists and the way they inhibited her ability to access magic disturbed her. This was a pretty serious thing
she should’ve been aware of. If there were people out there who could interrupt a Channeler’s access to his or her powers, those people were very dangerous indeed.
“What is this?” Quinn said, her voice gaining in strength and clarity. “Is this magic or is this technology?”
She meant the handcuffs and the bald man understood. “It’s a strange hybrid of both, actually. We have some powerful benefactors. People in Silicon Valley. People you’ve heard of.”
“Who are you guys?”
“Matt you’ve already met. Behind him is Zvi. Behind you—your water bearer—is Giulio. I am Uriah. Uriah Yellen. We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Henaghan.”
Quinn nodded. “Okay. Is this the part where you torture me?”
Yellen winced. “I really hope you don’t make us do that. We don’t hate Channelers. Honestly. Just what they Channel.”
Henaghan chewed on that for a moment. “Don’t hate the sinner. Hate the sin.”
The Israeli pointed a finger at her. “Exactly,” he said. “But… You’re harboring a very, very dangerous object. An object that could do irreversible harm to our world—yours and mine. We cannot allow it to fall into reckless hands.”
“And your hands are the safest?”
Uriah nodded. “We are the middle way. The way of reason. The uninterested third party.”
“Uninterested? Bullshit. Everybody’s got an angle. You have one too. Wanna know how I know?”
Yellen raised one eyebrow. He did want to know.
“These handcuffs. Someone without an agenda doesn’t seek out rich patrons. Rich patrons who must’ve agreed with your ethos—whatever it is—before they committed their fortunes.”
Uriah turned to Matt Abrigo. “You didn’t tell me she was so smart.”
Next to Quinn, Abrigo smiled. “I didn’t know. Watch out, Uriah. She’ll talk you into removing the cuffs.”