ARC: Peacemaker (3 page)

Seeing her now in the food plaza, under the glaring fluorescent lights, I didn’t know what to think.

“Ma’am?”

I bit my lip and sprayed Sixkiller with belligerence. “
My name
is Virgin Jackson. Or Ranger Jackson if you prefer. But if you call me ma’am again I’m likely to break your face.”

An over the top reaction considering how polite I’d been acting, but Aquila’s appearance kinda tore the ring top off my good will. I wiped my damp palms on my jeans and wrenched my gaze back to my companion.

He glanced over his shoulder to where I’d been staring and then back to me. His face was quite expressionless. “Then please call me Nate. Or Sixkiller. Or…”

He let it hang and I didn’t want to know what he’d left unfinished. I gulped down my lemon soda and felt the rush of sweet fluid fuel my edginess.

“Virgin, what attacked you in the park?” he asked carefully.

“A… A bird.” I glanced briefly at Aquila again. Her eyes were gleaming and she stretched her wings as if ready to fly. “A crow, I thought at the time. But I couldn’t see it. It… was… getting dark,” I finished with a whisper.

“A crow?” His brow creased. “You mean a raven?”

“If that’s what you call it,” I said. “Look I’m going to have to go. Been a long day. Can you find your way back to the apartment?”

He nodded. “I’ll escort you, ma… Virgin.”

Aquila lifted from her perch and alighted right next to us. There was a trace of bloody meat trapped and hanging from the corner ofher beak.

“No!” I jumped up from the table. “I’m fine. See you in the morning. I’ll come by around 7.”

I turned and ran down the escalator not really caring how weird my behaviour seemed.

By the time I reached the lobby of the Cloisters, I was drenched in sweat and shivering. The mirrors showed me the disturbed expression on my face, and that my hair was plastered to my head, so I took some deep breaths before stepping into the lift.

Aquila hadn’t reappeared and I began to calm but when the lift door opened on my floor, she was back, perched on the light shade outside my room.

“What do you want?” I said aloud.

The wedge-tail stared at me as solemnly as she used to when I was a teen.

“What?” I said, a little louder.

A door opened as I walked the corridor and a neighbour ventured out. I nodded congenially, forcing my mouth into the shape of a smile. I knew the guy by sight but we’d never spoken. We didn’t break our habit. After a quick acknowledgement he passed on, head down.

Aquila stayed on the light fitting as I keyed the lock and pushed the door open. But as I stepped inside, the eagle left her perch and swooped, talons first. I ducked on instinct, and felt the movement of air.

Then bird screams exploded in my head. I hit the light switch as I dived to the floor. A huge black crow fluttered above me with its beak open.

Aquila swooped in again, straight at the crow and they collided in a chaos of feathers and chilling screeches.

The sight of them paralysed me. Was I hallucinating or-

“Get up real slow and put your hands where I can see ’em.” The breath in my face was sweetened by alcohol so I did as the man-holding-the-gun-to-my-head bid, taking my time, picturing where I’d put my revolver and wondering if I could reach it. The birds tearing at each other above our heads mightn’t be real but I had no qualms that he was.

“What’s this about?” I said in a rusty whisper, as I got up off the floor. “You want money?”

He laughed. “You think I’d be robbing
you
if I wanted cash?”

“What then? I don’t know anybody; nobody knows me.”

“Seems you’re wrong there. Now stop your gabbin’ and listen.” He began patting me down as he spoke. “We’re going down in the lift and there’ll be a car waitin’ in the drive thru bay. You’re goin’ to get in it, nice and quiet, like a lamb, or I’ll paste your brains all over road.”

My pistol was in the drawer beside my bed. I had no chance of reaching it but there was no way in hell I was getting into a car with this guy. So I told him.

“No,” I said.

“Whadya mean ‘no’?”

I stayed silent.

He nudged me forward so I stumbled. “Move!”

I straightened up and shook my head. I was not about to be shot and killed at some lonely rubbish dump or in a derelict warehouse. “Fuck you.”

Reckless? Hell, yeah. I should be being more careful with my life, but an overwhelming stubbornness took me. I wasn’t going anywhere with this son-of-a-bitch.

He cocked the pistol and his breathing accelerated. Above me, the crow had broken away from Aquila and circled the room. Aquila hovered protectively in front of me like an avenging angel, eyes yellow with hate.

“Do you see them?” I said.

“See what?”

“The eagle and the crow?”

“What are you talking about you crazy bitch?”He grabbed my shoulder and shoved me so I hard, I sprawled through the partially open doorway, banging my shoulder on the door frame as I went down.

As I rolled, my chin hit a pair of tan boots smelling of saddle soap, and a slow drawl penetrated my rattling brain.

“Put the gun down, dirtbag. Step away from the lady.”

I didn’t know whether to get to my feet or stay put. Some strangely detached part of my brain recognized Nate Sixkiller’s voice and wanted to see what he would do, so I turned my head slightly so I could look up at him.

“Fuck off, cow
boy,”
said my intruder.

“I’m not partial to cussin’ in front of wimmen,” said Sixkiller. I saw his hand move towards his holster and instinctively covered my head.

The shots were brief. One from Sixkiller and a stray from the intruder that pinged off my metal door frame as he went down. Then a hand touched my shoulder.

“You can get up, Virgin.”

Of course I can get up, I wanted to say. I can take care of myself. I was just giving you a chance to prove yourself.

But that would have been hostile and not strictly true, so I bit my tongue and got upright as coolly as I could. I should have been grateful to him, but my stubborn streak just refused to allow it.

Then there was the shock. The intruder was on the floor, as dead-looking as the guy I’d seen in the park earlier in the evening. Two dead guys on a Friday; I was setting records.

I glanced up. The crow had vanished and Aquila had perched quietly on the top of my stereo speaker, beaking gently at her wounds.

“You’re hurt,” I said aloud.

“No,” replied Sixkiller.

“Not you… I mean... er... him.” I pointed limply at the dead guy. Death hadn’t improved his appeal; white belly bulging from beneath his faded black T-shirt, a blue tattoo of a bird –a crow –inside a circle just below his belly button.

“
Hurt
is one way to put it. I’m assuming you don’t know him.” His drawl had vanished again and he spoke in a crisp but soft tone.

“You’d be right on that.”

“What’s your protocol for such situations?”

“Protocol?” I looked at Aquila again. She had tucked her head under her wing, exhausted, like she was going to take a nap. I wanted to go over to her and stroke her head; thank her for trying to help me, except of course,
she wasn’t real.

“
She needs to rest. But she’s not badly injured,” said Sixkiller.

“Pardon me? Wha-at did you say?” I swung my stare around to him.

“Your disincarnate is not badly injured.”

“Y… You can see her?”

“The eagle. Yes,” he said. “She’s beautiful and you are fortunate to have her.”

“But she’s not real.”

“That depends, Virgin, on which reality you’re standing in.”

“Well, that’s a kind of weird thing to say?”

His mouth curved in an unexpected smile. “You’re as blunt as they said you were.”

“They?”

He walked past me into the room and looked around. “We should call your police.”

I nodded slowly. “Yes. We should–”

“Virgin! Virgin, you OK?” called a voice from just beyond the doorway.

“Totes?”

The skinny tech was peering in, eyes on stalks, holding a Taser out in front of him. He lived three floors down and had never visited me before. “How did you know…?”Then my eyes widened with comprehension. “You’ve got my apartment bugged?”

He blushed and the Taser-hand sagged. “Not bugged, exactly, just got some extra security up for you.”

“What kind of extra security?” I moved closer to him.

“I… No… Well just a… sound decoder.”

“What, in blazing balls, is a sound decoder?” I demanded.

“Picks up sound and sorts it into categories… you know… like you might be in trouble or somethin’… or like being shot at.” His glance flicked to Sixkiller. “Er… hi. I’m… er… They call me Total. Heard a lot about you. You’ve got some fearsome ancestors.”

Sixkiller holstered his pistol and stepped closer to proffer a handshake.

I stared at the pair of them for a moment, not sure what to say next. When nothing came, I pulled out my phone and dialed OOO
Should this be 000 (digits) rather than OOO (letters)?
.

Chapter Three

The whole police thing took up way too much of the evening. I called Hunt, and he called his boss to stop them locking Sixkiller in jail while they did a background and credentials check.

I also told him about the murder in the park.

“Why didn’t you call it in right away?” he demanded.

I gave him my lame reasons.

“Jeesus, Virgin. Are you
looking
for trouble?”

“Like I said, I was late.”

He gave an epic sigh. “I’ll talk them out of keeping you in tonight but tomorrow you’ll have some explaining to do.”

Totes, Sixkiller, Caro and I ended up back at my apartment around midnight. I’d called Caro to pick us up from the Pol-Central. She didn’t sleep much, and anyway there was bound to be a story in it for her.

The moment she laid eyes on the Marshall, she began making suggestive faces at me behind his back. Considering the evening’s events, I wasn’t in the mood. But Caro lacked the sensitivity gene. That’s what made her good at her job. In the battle between sensibility and story – story always won.

The body had been removed, leaving only the fluorescent forensic outline around where he’d fallen. The cops had taken a bunch of visual recordings and samples and given me permission to return but not remove the markings.

Caro had a good poke around the scene and aired some theories while Totes and I hunkered over a pizza in my kitchenette. Sixkiller declined any food and announced he was going back to his own room.

I saw him to the lift and stood there feeling awkward. “I… er… should… thank you.”

He nodded. “You should have heeded your guide when it tried to warn you.”

“What do you mean ‘warn me’?”

Even though it was the small hours of his first day in a new country, after a twenty-six hour flight, killing someone, and then a stint getting to know the local constabulary, he remained as phlegmatic and calm as if he’d been meditating for a week. Only the hint of a dark shadow under his eyes suggested otherwise.

“When the eagle appeared in the eatery to warn you.”

“You saw it there?”

He stared at me as if
I
was acting crazy. “We talked about it. Remember.”

“Hey you two, stop canoodling at the door and come and entertain me,” Caro called down the corridor.

My skin warmed with embarrassment. “Probably not a good time for this conversation. I’ll come by around lunchtime, Hunt told us to take the morning off.”

“I’ll be ready at 6am,” he said.

“Fine then.” I sighed and trudged back into the apartment.

Caro and Totes were leaning in close, whispering.

“Time to go,” I told them.

“Say what?” said Caro, helping herself to another piece of pizza.

I wagged my finger at Totes. “
You,
I will deal with tomorrow. Go!”

He grabbed the last piece of pepperoni and cheese and scarpered with it before I could grab him by the scruff of the neck.

“So,” said Caro, when the door shut behind him. “What the fuck?”

I stared at her tiredly and shrugged.

“Who’s just tried to kill you, Ginny?”

“I don’t know. Truly.”

“When you get the ID on the guy, let me know. I’ll do some digging around for you.”

Caro had sources and then some. Years of building up a strong network of field specialists meant she knew people who could hack most databases and analyse any substance. I’d never asked her to use her contacts before. There’d never been a need.

“Thanks. But there’s something else,” I said.

She dropped her pizza crust onto the cardboard and wiped greasy fingers on my tea towel. “What’s that?”

“I saw Aquila tonight.”

Caro and I had first met in the reception area of a psychiatrist’s rooms. She’d been getting treatment from PTSD after some time in a political hotspot, and I was seeking some explanations for the wedge-tailed eagle following me around.

It wasn’t the kind of place you struck up conversations with strangers, but Caro was the most inquisitive person on the face of the earth and she didn’t make any exceptions for my leave-me-alone expression. Her scattergun approach to getting to know a person overwhelmed even my solid defenses, and next thing I knew we were having drinks on Friday nights at the Wild Turkey saloon in the Western quarter.

“Shit.” Caro’s mouth pursed and her smooth brow crinkled, making her look more her age. Most of the time her petite, blond-haired, blue-eyed innocent beauty passed for nineteen despite the fact she was two years older than me.

“Saw her when I took Sixkiller out to dinner at Yum Fat. I left and went home. When I got here she was on the lamp shade outside here. I ignored her and opened my door. That’s when the guy jumped me. While he was threatening me, Aquila was battling this huge bloody crow. I’m surprised there aren’t feathers everywhere.” I pulled a face at Caro. “Except of course,
she isn’t real
.”

“Concerning,” she said.

A wave of tiredness took me. “Yeah. But listen, I need to get some sleep. Have to take Sixkiller into work, first thing.”

“You want me to stay?”

I glanced at the fluorescent markings on the floor. “I’m fine. But tomorrow, if you’ve got any theories on why Aquila’s back, I’d like to hear them.”

She leaned across the breakfast bar and hugged me. I wasn’t the demonstrative kind, but Caro was. It came as naturally to her, as being suspicious came to me. I’d had to school myself to not be bothered by it. Occasionally, these days, it was even a comfort. Like now.

“It’ll be OK, Ginny. Just get some sleep.”

I let her out then I went into my bedroom where I pushed my chest of drawer across the door. After checking the window was locked, and doing a half-hearted scan for Totes’ Peeping Tom microphones, I decided I didn’t care. I slipped my pistol under my pillow and flaked right out.