“I…I’m sure this kind of thing isn’t that interesting to a dragon, but… Well, I don’t think I can trust one of my teammates.”
He looked taken aback. “Trust is indeed important to dragons. And I can see with your profession and your alleged superior’s insistence on you not using your powers how this would upset you. Is it him? Is it the tall one you don’t trust?”
“No. Drew’s great. It’s a new guy. You haven’t met him, actually. He didn’t come to the party.”
“Ah,” he said.
Kristen almost let it drop. Telling him about it made her realize she should tell Drew and the Captain, but there was something about the man standing across from her, something about the way he looked at her… She couldn’t help herself and simply let it all out.
“There are these mercenaries in town. At least we think they’re mercenaries. They’re why I wanted to train with you, honestly, because they’re professionals. They used magnetic tasers on my steel skin before they tried to bring that building down on my head. Later, they attacked the station.”
“And what is the issue with this new fellow? Is he a coward?”
“No…no, I think he might be a mole.” She looked at him with guilt in her eyes. While she felt bad even thinking this kind of thing, she had to know the truth, which meant she had to share her ideas with others.
Sebastian’s expression was completely blank. “A mole?”
Her laughter cut the tension of the moment. “Right, that expression must still be fairly recent.”
He took a deep breath and seemed to study her. “No… No, I believe I know what you are talking about. Do you believe this new teammate is a spy? That he is undercover?”
“Yes, exactly. Sorry, when I said it you looked…uncomfortable. I assumed that you didn’t know the expression—like doing the dab or whatever.”
At the word “dab,” he only blinked. He really did live in another time decade, or maybe century. “You believe this to be the case because…they attacked the police station?” He scratched his chin.
“No. Well, yes, they must’ve known the layout, but that’s not all.”
He raised an eyebrow as if to encourage her to continue.
“Last night, I tailed Washington. That’s the new guy. He received a big bouquet of flowers with a note in it, and it freaked him out. He left in a hurry and I followed him using my dragon speed. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Sebastian nodded and waved his hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, merely your birthright as a dragon. Tell me more. The suspense is killing me.”
“He met one of the assholes who attacked the station.”
“How can you know?” he countered. “Weren’t these mercenaries masked?”
She paused and frowned at him for a moment. She had not mentioned that the mercenaries were masked. “This guy’s ski mask came up when he stumbled so I saw his face. But how did you know that? I didn’t say they covered their faces.”
Sebastian smiled. “Kristen, I may be an anachronism of a dragon, but you said these were professionals. Even I know enough of technology to assume your police station has cameras to catch photographs of their faces. Only a complete and utter moron would reveal his face there.” The way he had said moron gave her pause. He’d snarled the word as if the accused had insulted him and needed to be dealt with directly.
“Well, moron or dumb luck, I saw his face. Then, when I followed Washington, it was the same guy. The flowers must have been a code or something. Dammit! I should’ve taken pictures. Either way, talking to you makes me realize I should simply tell Drew. Even without photos, I think I have enough evidence to at least make them ask the Wonderkid some questions.”
He nodded slowly. There was something about his body language, though, that had changed. He seemed more guarded. Was he merely worried for her? If that was it, dragons had an odd way to show concern. “When did this all happen?”
“Last night.”
“At what time?”
“Why does that matter?”
His grin was disarming. “As you may have realized, I have rather formidable resources at my disposal. It bothers me to no end that a mercenary is fraternizing with a dirty police officer. If you tell me the time and the location of this clandestine meeting, perhaps I can ferret out more information about this…leak, in your organization.”
“I guess so. I think I’ll tell Drew, though, and we’ll go from there.”
“I don’t think that’s wise, Kristen.”
“I trust Drew with my life.”
“Yes, of course,” he said placatingly. “It’s merely that the police are police. There are procedures they must follow—procedures that might very well spook the target. If he is a mole—and at the very least it sounds like he is keeping secrets from his superiors—he will know how to escape into a tunnel and vanish if things go wrong. We must tread lightly, discover who his handler is, and perhaps we can unravel this thread from the tatters of these mercenaries. I assure you, I’ll be discreet. All I need to start is the time and place, please.”
“It was at Grand Circus Park, the Edison fountain, about eight in the evening,” she told him.
Sebastian nodded and his smile widened. He made her think of a cat that had caught a mouse beneath an ottoman and left it with nowhere to run.
“I still think I should tell Drew. I need to know who the assholes are.”
“You need to be careful. I’m sure you can trust Drew, but do you trust everyone he trusts? Besides, where would you tell him? If there really is a mole, they could have planted those infernal monitoring devices. They could fetch the tape and find out everything you know. Give me forty-eight hours. If I find nothing, bring them the mole. Does that sound all right?”
She nodded. “Should we keep training?”
“I think not. We’ll both be quite distracted. Let me get to work. I’ll be in touch.”
“Sure,” she agreed, but she didn’t think she could simply ignore Washington. Still, if he thought it was best for her to conceal the truth from Drew and Captain Hansen, there was obviously value in subterfuge. It might be better if the Steel Dragon came at this from a different angle than Shadowstorm—an angle she didn’t need to tell him about until she found out more or he gave her satisfactory answers.
Chapter Forty
An absolutely massive bouquet flowers arrived for Washington the next evening. Kristen didn’t know much about flowers, but these looked expensive. Fortunately, she didn’t have to sneak around to see the poem because the whole damn station wanted to read the message from the Wonderkid’s secret admirer.
When she stepped from the lounge into the office space, Hernandez was already standing on a desk, brandishing the missive like she’d captured the flag. Judging from the Wonderkid’s scowl and ashen face, he seemed to think so too.
“Where the big cats roar, till throats are sore, I’ll see you from where I stand. Where boys and men play together, snatch them balls with your hand.”
The entire office roared with laughter.
“Nothing wrong with being bi.” She hooted to the crowd. “But no matter how you slice it, flowers and poetry is for princesses, not police. Plus, Wonderkid, this isn’t exactly discreet. Can you show some class, at least? You gonna go give a handjob or something? Even if it's consensual, you still can’t do that shit to little boys.”
Howls of laughter erupted from everyone except Washington, who only smoldered. Keith laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. Even Beanpole giggled at it all.
“Give me the damn note, okay?” Jim said.
Hernandez relented and handed it over.
“What does it really say?” one of the officers shouted out over the crowd of cops.
“Hey, Anderson, I’m in demolitions, not a goddamn poet laureate. Do you think I made that shit up?”
Everyone laughed again, Anderson the hardest of all. Kristen kept her eyes on Washington, who clenched his jaw so tightly she thought he might crack a tooth. S
o that was what the note really said, then.
“All right you animals, back to work! I’m paying you to protect this city, not listen to standup comedy and romance poems,” Captain Hansen ordered and the crowd dispersed, still giggling amongst themselves.
Kristen busied herself with paperwork. There’d been a convenience store robbery earlier that she’d busted. No, helped bust. They’d done it by the book with no dragon speed or using her steel skin as a shield. It had gone well—no one had died—but that didn’t mean the paperwork filled itself out.
While she typed the data in, she thought about the words of the poem. Obviously, they were clues about another meeting. If they contained actual information, Washington wouldn’t have gone to the park. Did that mean the poem told him the location?
If so, where did it point to?
“Where the big cats roared till throats are sore,” seemed to point to the Detroit Zoo. There wasn’t anywhere else in the city that had big cats, but the thing about the sore throats didn’t make any sense. There were lions at the Zoo, of course, and a tiger as well, but they didn’t roar until their throats hurt. Mostly, they only slept.
Then there was the part about boys and men snatching balls. Honestly, she was somewhat relieved that Hernandez had turned it into a sex joke. That would be at the forefront of everyone’s minds, not any other hidden meaning. But what did it mean? She didn’t think he was gay, and even if he was, he hadn’t met a clandestine lover in the park.
No, it was another clue. It had to be. But where would one go in the city to hear big cats roar and also catch balls? Maybe the boys and men was a father-son reference?
Finally, she slapped her forehead. “Duh!” She’d cracked it and she couldn’t believe how obvious the answer was. Her dad would have been ashamed that it took her more than a second to solve it.
Her teammate would meet his contact at Comerica Park, where the Detroit Tigers played baseball. Now that she’d found the answer, it seemed almost painfully obvious. Every single Tigers fan went home with a sore throat, and the line about catching a ball ruled out the Detroit Lions. No one ever went home with a foul football, but that was expected in baseball.
There didn’t seem to be a time specified, so she assumed he would simply head there after his shift.
An hour later, she followed him to the People Mover. This time, though, he was much more careful and watched the stairway where she crouched until the doors closed. Only then did he turn away, which meant it was too late for her to get aboard.
No matter. She was a dragon, and she knew where he was going.
As she sprinted down Randolph street, she moved faster than some of the cars. Her training with Sebastian had really made a difference. Not only had he helped her increase her speed but he also helped her use her reflexes better. That meant she could run faster simply because she wasn’t worried about tripping over every little thing.
She was actually surprised when Randolph turned into Broadway as she’d run so fast, she’d arrived there sooner than she’d realized. Broadway took her to Witherell, where she turned right and reached her destination.
And not a moment too soon. The People Mover had pulled into the station in almost the same moment. It amused her that she was virtually as fast as a train. She hid behind a dumpster and waited for Washington to come down the steps.
When he did, he looked around and immediately headed toward Comerica Park. She’d cracked the code, then. Missing the People Mover had made her nervous. If she’d misjudged and he’d stepped off somewhere else, she would have had to wait for the next bouquet and would have probably told Drew.
As it was, she’d brought a better camera than the one on her phone. She planned to get pictures and record audio if possible. It was too bad the stadium was so big and she couldn’t get ahead of him and set the phone to record. She’d simply have to tail him.
Washington hurried to the front entrance, then turned right. He followed the wall of the massive stadium for a while, almost to the back where the scoreboard was. As soon as the barrier gave way to a black, wrought iron fence, he removed his leather jacket—she had been wondered why he’d worn it as it wasn’t cold—and threw it over the spikes at the top. He took a few steps back, ran at the fence, vaulted up to grasp his jacket—and tore it in the process—and hauled himself over.
He left it there, presumably for a quick escape, and moved deeper into the stadium.
She considered taking the jacket and calling Drew but decided against it. If a number of cops arrived, Washington and the mercenary would get spooked.
No, it was better to get what information she could. Then, when he came to work in the morning, he’d walk into a trap.
Kristen stepped up to the ten-foot fence, crouched, and leapt over it. Apparently, a ten-foot vertical leap was still beyond her abilities, but clearing the fence wasn’t. As soon as she realized her feet wouldn’t make it over the top, she turned her hands to steel and caught hold of the spikes. She pulled herself over effortlessly, landed, and jogged into the darkness where her quarry had vanished.
It was a passageway to the stands—specifically, the part near first base and home plate. Foul ball country. What better place was there to snatch a ball?
Washington approached a man who sat in the stands with a hood up. All she could see of his face in the moonlight was a brown mustache. Everything else was in shadow.
She moved four rows back, dropped to her hands and knees, and crawled after him. Fortunately, he walked at a normal pace and she was able to keep up without too much difficulty. By the time Wonderkid sat beside his handler, she was behind them, albeit four rows back.
Once the conversation began, she crawled over a chair so she was only three rows back and close enough to hear him. She turned her audio recorder on her phone on and waited for an opportune moment to snap a picture.
“What’s up, Dwight? I thought I wouldn’t hear from you again.”
That was a weird thing to hear from a mole. Of course he’d hear from his handler.
The other man didn’t respond.
“Two times in a week is a little much, man. And that lyric? Shit, dude. It’s a little too obvious, don’t you think?” He uttered an odd chuckle she’d heard from him before and knew he was trying to ease the tension.
“I had no choice,” Dwight said and clapped a handcuff on Washington.
“What the fuck is this, Dwight?”
“I’m sorry, Jim, really,” his companion said, pushed himself up, and took two steps back from the man he’d fastened to a chair. “I told you they would kill my people. I told you that. Why’d you have to look under rocks?”
“I didn’t, man. I’m telling you. I didn’t lift a fucking finger.” He struggled against the handcuff. The rattle of the tiny chain sounded loud in the quiet stadium.
“I told him everything, Jim—about the lyrics, how we met, how I tried to save your stupid fucking ass. He has this effect on people. You simply can’t say no. He said he’d let me get my people out of town. That’s…that’s more than he does for most people.”
“And you believed him?” Washington demanded incredulously.
“Fuck, yes, I believed him. He knew about our meeting at the Edison fountain. He fucking knew, Jim. And I sure as shit didn’t tell him, which means you did.”
“No, I didn’t, Dwight. Someone must’ve tailed you. But it’s all right. I can get you to safety. With your intel, we can stop these assholes and protect your family and your friends. You gotta let me go.”
But the other man had no opportunity to respond. Instead, a bullet caught him in the temple and his brains exploded out the other side of his head.
“Shit!” Washington cursed and tried to drop in his seat. He couldn’t hide, though. Kristen could still see his hand. Now that Dwight had cuffed him to the chair, the mercenary had obviously served his purpose.
The shot had come from behind her, which meant the sniper would have to move to get Jim in his sights. Her teammate
was crouched on the floor and struggled frantically with the restraint.
Kristen was about to sneak forward when a man darted up from the front row. Another appeared from the next stand over.
There wasn’t only one sniper, then, but a goddamn death squad.
She turned her skin to steel and sprang into action.
“Wonderkid, get ready to fucking move.” She leapt over the rows between them and thunked onto a chair that collapsed beneath her weight.
Shots struck her but did nothing to her steel skin. She dropped down so she was at eye-level with him while the mercs closed in.
Washington looked at her with terror in his eyes but the bullets that pinged off her seemed to sober him. “You followed me.”
“You’re goddamn right I did, and a good thing too. Are you armed?”
“With a pistol.”
“Not good enough. Get ready to follow me out of this place.”
“I’m cuffed.”
With a deft movement, she snapped the chain connecting him to the seat as easily as if it had been made of tissue paper. Gunshots rang out. One struck her in the back. “Change of plans. I’ll eliminate a few of these guys, then you’ll run to the field.”
“The field? There’s no cover.”
“There is in the dugout.”
“You can’t take these assholes on by yourselves. They are who tried to kill you.”
“These assholes are nothing if not well prepared, but they didn’t know I’d be here. Now, I’ll stand and they’ll shoot me. I’ll kill one of them and then I’ll move. That’s when you run. Got it?”
Steel Dragon Page 31