Demon Driven (25 page)

I started to speak, but she waved me to
silence.

“Yes, Chris, I understand that parts of the
human government know about vampires, weres and other
supernaturals. At least a small faction did. But what happened
today changes everything. You, my young friend, just became
National Security problem number one. Tell me, how much damage
could your god-bear do? What weapon in the human arsenal could
touch him?” she asked.

I shook my head, “I don’t really know. Guns
don’t hurt him. The Tear is the only thing I’ve ever seen him
afraid of and I have that.”

She had a point. I hadn’t thought about him
as too big of a threat because he only seemed to be interested in
me. Hell, I didn’t think he was even aware of the White House, the
Capital or any human government. Which was fairly stupid on my part
and possibly a little bigoted. I had known he was sentient, but he
was so bear-like that I assumed he only thought about bear stuff
and paid little attention to human stuff. Today’s demonstration had
altered that perception, quite thoroughly.

Senka continued her train of thought.

“Could he appear inside the President’s
quarters, inside the House or Senate Chambers and destroy everyone?
He seems to favor physical form, but does he need it?” she
asked.

"Well, he could certainly wipe out the
politicians. As far as other powers I don’t know. But he showed me
images of bombed out government buildings, so maybe he could attack
in a different manner.”

“So you see my point? General Creek will have
reported up his chain of command. The whole thing will have been
made ultra secret and enormous resources are, most likely, being
brought to bear. Oh dear, no pun intended!”

“Chris, your movements from here on out will
be tracked by every asset the government has. You, and your
god-bear are as dangerous as those backpack nuclear weapons that
terrorists are so interested in. The humans will be racking their
brains, trying to come up with counters to the threat you pose. How
could they control you?” She turned her head to look squarely at
Tanya.

My stomach dropped below my feet. Grabbing
Tanya would be almost impossible, but what if they put everything
behind it? To stop a threat to the entire country? Or control me
and therefore, Okwari, as a weapon against whomever they chose.

“So Chris, you can see why we will need to
disappear, why you can’t be with Tanya? You do, don’t you?”

“NO! I won’t allow it!” Tanya yelled, her
eyes flickering between blue and total jet black.

But I did see the problem. They were right. I
would be the subject of whole teams of agents, hell, they might
re-task a satellite to watch my movements.

Tanya was on her feet and facing off against
her mother, Senka and Tzao. Nika and Lydia were standing to one
side, looking very unsure. It may have been the only time I have
seen the spikey-haired little vampire speechless. The two males
were wisely hanging back.

Before the situation devolved completely, I
spoke the worst words of my life.

“They’re right, “I said, barely above a
whisper.

Tanya spun to me.

“What?” her eyes incredulous.

“I think they are right. Not about me hurting
you, but about me being front and center on the Homeland Security
hotplate. If they find you….” I shook my head, unable to finish the
sentence.

“So what? I’ll fight them! Bastards won’t
know what hit them!”

That was another ugly mental image. She would
kill them by the score.

“Tanya, this is the US government we’re
talking about. Their resources are ridiculous. But what if they
don’t grab you? What if they grab Lydia, Nika or your mother?
They’ll come in the daytime. Most vamps won’t be functional.” I
shook my head again. “Senka is right. You have to disappear!
Leave the country! Anything but stay near me!”

“Lydia? Tell them!” Tanya begged.

Lydia’s eyes were huge and very sad. “Tanya,
I ... I can’t think of a way around this. We need to hide ... at
least temporarily! With some time, we can figure something out! But
now we need to leave.”

“You two have tonight, but then we’re gone.
Chris, Arkady still has your phone?” Senka asked.

I nodded. I had understood when Arkady had
requested that he hold on to my phone and keep driving the Mercedes
limo, after dropping us off at this new (and soon to be old)
residence. My cell number was undoubtedly being tracked and the GPS
locator inside it would just show a constantly moving target. The
Coven had enormous assets, buried inside of twisted trails of
corporations, trusts and partnerships, spread across the globe. I
had no doubt they could successfully disappear, but where would
that leave me, I wondered as Tanya led me to her room.

Chapter 25

I got back to my place somewhere in the
vicinity of three AM. Tanya and I had spent the night, our last for
an unforeseeable time, making love and holding each other. There
wasn’t a whole lot to say, although I told her I loved her about a
thousand times.

One of the security vamps dropped me near my
apartment and moments later, Arkady tossed me my cell phone from
the driver’s window of his car. My place seemed unbearably empty
and cold, even as I smelled her lilac and jasmine scent on my
shirt. She had kept the shirt I had been wearing and I had swapped
it for her sleep shirt (which was also one of mine). She had a
thing for my clothes, ones that were saturated with my scent. I was
beginning to understand that concept.

Sleep was almost impossible, but I finally
drifted into an uneasy slumber only to hear a heavy pounding on my
door.

I went from drowsy and on my stomach to wide
awake and standing next to my bed in the blink of vampire’s eye.
Ready to fight.

Then I heard a familiar voice – “Chris, get
up!” Chet’s voice demanded.

I yanked the door open and he stormed in,
heading right to my closet and grabbing my tac bag.

“What the hell Chet?” I asked.

He started throwing clothes, black combat
pants and a long-sleeve black tee, in my direction.

“C’mon, we gotta fly! Your skills are
needed!”

“What happened?” I asked.

Instead of answering, he flicked on the TV
and found a morning news channel.

‘
-the Mayor’s office has not responded to
questions at this time but our on scene reporter, Jennifer Nadu, is
live outside Intermediate School 341 in Brooklyn. Jennifer, what
can you tell us?’

‘
Good morning, Harry, we don’t know a
great deal at this time, but what we do know is that police were
called to four schools across the city this morning. Witnesses
claim to have heard shots fired in three of the four, and one of
those was stormed by NYPD Special Operations teams. At least one
small explosion was heard. Here at IS 341, local and federal law
enforcement have sealed the access streets and have the school on
lockdown’-

“Terrorists?” I asked, already knowing the
answer in my gut. This was exactly the type of scenario that had
been war-gamed by Homeland Security and NYPD since Nine-eleven
occurred.

“Yeah, what we know so far is that four
groups of terrorists began simultaneous operations at about
seven-o-five AM. In-school police officers almost immediately
foiled two of the attempts, although at least three officers were
killed. The third school was being assaulted when Special Ops got
there and finished the job. The fourth team was entirely successful
and has locked down IS 341. Based on what we know from the other
three, they have booby trapped every entrance and egress with
explosives. The feds and our guys are trying to get a plan in
place, but the fear is that the terrorists are just gonna blow
everything any way.”

“Chet, I can get in and disable the
explosives!”

“No shit, Sherlock! That’s what I’m here for.
Takata and Sommers are on the team securing 341 and they think you
can get in through a roof mounted heating and cooling system.”

I
moved
, dressing in the space of
several seconds, then grabbed Chet’s arm (gently) and raced out of
the building.

He had a patrol car waiting out front, its
lights dancing in multicolor strobes on every surface around us.
The two officers in the front turned to look as we came flying out
of the building. Scott Henderson and Jim Pella, my old Sixty-Eighth
precinct squad mates. Old as in, about seven and a half months ago.
Felt like a lifetime.

“Hey Chris, hop in. Special delivery service
at your beck and call,” Henderson said, his tone light, but his
eyes tight with tension.

The squad car wove through traffic, siren
blaring, with the occasional angry honk from Henderson at some
particularly uncooperative New York driver.

I had barely nodded to the two in the front,
when Chet grabbed my attention and started to dump info in my
direction.

“Okay, listen up. Intermediate 341 has
approximately 895 students, grades six through eighth, fifty or so
teachers and another thirty-five administrative and custodial
staff. As near as we can figure, a group of between six and eight
individuals with full automatic weapons took over the building
during the morning announcements. Based on what we know from the
other three attempts, plus what they have told negotiators, they’ve
wired the building with explosives. Any entry attempt will blow up
the entire school. Plus they have command detonation ability,
according to the leader, who is broadcasting live on the web.”

“What kind of explosive?” I asked. I needed
to know in order to transmute it. Each explosive had a different
formula and what I did was to change that formula enough to render
it harmless. Not that I understood the chemistry of what I did, I
just somehow felt my way through it. Chemistry was not my best
subject in school.

“Military grade, C-4,” he answered.

“U.S. stuff?”

“Chris, it is likely that these guys are
homegrown. U.S. citizens that have trained in camps in Iran or
Afghanistan, then come home to wreak havoc,” he said, carefully,
his eyes watching mine for reaction.

“Really? Well I guess I don’t really give a
shit. Domestic, foreign, Muslim, Catholic, male or female; doesn’t
matter. Take kids hostage in my city and you will learn about
terror!” I said in a tight whisper, clamping down on the berserker
inside. Something must have peeked out of my eyes because Chet went
pale, at least as pale as his dark skin would allow. He busied
himself with his laptop, pulling up floorplans of the school. IS
341 was an old multi-storied brick school, that occupied the corner
of Grand Ave and Park Street. The rhomboid shaped building had a
neighbor on the front left(Grand) and one on the rear (Park Street)
side. Chet’s plans showed a large combination gymnasium and
auditorium where the bulk of the hostages had been herded by the
terrorists. The building behind, on Park, was four stories high,
about the same height at the school, giving me a jumping point to
reach the roof. Climbing the outside of the school was out, as I
would be exposed to the FBI and NYPD personnel surrounding the
school. My involvement was entirely unofficial and unsanctioned
.

Chet informed that Sommers had the sniper
spot on the four story neighboring building, where he would be
expecting me. Nice to be able to concentrate on the assault without
worrying about getting shot by my own sniper.

The section of roof over the gym had a mass
of HVAC equipment mounted almost in its center. It was considered
to be wired with explosives, but if I could transmute the plastic
explosives around it, I could gain entry.

Chet next showed me footage from the
in-school cameras, as well as some provided by the terrorists
themselves, ostensibly to convince authorities of the futility of
attempting a rescue. As near as anyone could tell, the leader was
holed up with the school principal in the office at the front of
the building, along with one or two other scumbags to help. The
remaining goons were keeping the teachers and students under the
gun, in and around the gym. If I could enter through the gym roof,
defuse the bombs, kill the terrorists with the kids, I could then
head to the office and clean up the leader and his lackeys.

Piece of cake. As long as old Mr. Murphy and
his law stayed quiet, everything could work out.

* * *

I pulled on patrol gloves, a black balaclava
and tinted eye goggles to hide my very unique peepers, continuing
to study the plans as we went careening through the city streets.
Chet handed me a Motorola radio tuned to a side channel that
Sommers and Takata were monitoring. Two blocks from the school,
Henderson slowed down and killed the siren, approaching from the
street that ran behind and parallel to Grand Ave. I would approach
by roof top to avoid the rest of my law enforcement coworkers. Just
before I left the car, Chet leaned over and gave me one last piece
of information.

“Chris, IS 341 is Roy Velasquez’s school.
He’s one of the assistant principals. Just so as you know,” he
said, his tone a little bleak.

No pressure there, just the husband of one of
my only friends. Great!

Looking around, I found an alley between the
buildings, worked my way to a slightly less open spot, and after a
quick check for observers, climbed the building.

Vampires can just about run up a sheer wall,
using the Cling technique to anchor their feet and hands. It takes
some practice to get the anchor and release pattern down, but I had
spent countless nights playing follower to Tanya’s leader around
the Big Apple.

The building I was on was three back from the
the school. Flashing lights and swarms of FBI raid jackets and blue
NYPD uniforms filled the streets and alleys around the school.
Moving to the edge of my building I looked down and around for
anyone who might see me jump. Not spotting anyone, I jumped the
forty feet to the next building, moving just about as fast as I
could to avoid detection. This building was closer and much busier.
I keyed the mike on my radio,