“What the hell?” Fortune said. “That can’t be Weathers.”
Then, over the sound of the blades, we heard, “This is William Ray, head of the Special Committee for Ace Resources and Endeavors. We have warrants from the United Sates government for the arrest of all Committee members. Surrender peacefully or we will use deadly force.”
Then the side door of the helicopter opened and I saw one ace fly out, swooping around the square. Ropes dropped and more SCARE agents slid down, landing about fifteen feet from us. I recognized Lady Black, Moon, and the Midnight Angel from Cross Plains. I figured the rest were aces, too. No one else could handle us. The helicopter flew off.
Billy Ray emerged from the midst of the aces wearing his usual pristine jumpsuit. He strode up to us followed by the Midnight Angel. I knew they were married now. Ink had said so in one of her e-mails.
Sprout gave a frightened cry and ran behind me. I understood why. Billy Ray’s face was a mass of scars. Thick pink tissue crisscrossed the suntanned planes of his face. His eyes were cold. But I wasn’t worried. He was strong, but brute force didn’t frighten me in the least. And I had the psychological advantage. I’d taken him once already.
I saw the rest of the SCARE agents fanning out across the park. Crap. This was not good. These SCARE jerks could hose our trade with Weathers.
“John Fortune, Michelle Pond,” Billy Ray said. “I am placing you under arrest.”
Sprout had wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my back.
“Are you insane?” Fortune asked. “Billy Ray, you have no jurisdiction over us. We’re part of the UN. And there was a no-fly order for this section.”
“I’m an agent of the United States government,” Billy Ray said, coming closer to Fortune. He leaned in until his spittle was hitting Fortune’s face. “You’re on U.S. soil. You’re U.S. citizens. Do I really need to draw you a map here?”
John’s forehead began to glow. Sekhmet was getting pissed.
“Look around, Billy Ray,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking with anger. This asshat had almost gotten Drake and Niobe killed. Not to mention that his Lady Black bitch had put a mad hurt on me. “You’ve got about a dozen aces. Not only do we have as many, but we’ve got a little extra somethin’ somethin’.” I pointed and Billy Ray turned around and saw what we’d been holding back for Weathers.
An army of zombies had suddenly surrounded Jackson Square. A lot of them had been floaters, which gave them a really horrible appearance. They stood there, silent, impervious, devoid of humanity.
I looked around, checking on our people. Earth Witch was flexing her hands, glancing around, looking for lines of sight. Cameo began to spin slowly, building up layers of dust. I saw a swarm of insects hovering near one of the SCARE aces, so I knew Bugsy was good to go.
Lohengrin was doing a propeller-fast pattern with his sword. The sunlight was glinting off his brilliant armor. Something small and lethally fast pinged into the dirt between me and Fortune and Billy Ray and the Midnight Angel. Curveball was making her presence known.
Noel was somewhere close by and I was hoping that Billy Ray would get the idea that this was a fight he didn’t want. Weathers was due at any moment, and the last thing we needed was a full-on brawl in progress when he showed up.
Fortune began to glow even brighter. Crap. I did not want Sekhmet appearing right now.
“Daddy!” Sprout cried. She let go of my waist and ran in front of me, flinging her arms into the air and dancing around with her head tilted back.
We all looked up. Coming down out of the sky at an incredible rate was a bright yellow streak. Then the streak landed, and a bare-chested man dressed in low-slung, faded bell-bottom jeans appeared. He had sun-streaked hair that fell halfway down his back and a peace medallion around his neck. He was holding Drake tucked under one muscular arm.
Fortune grabbed Sprout and pushed her toward me. I folded her into my arms in a hug.
“I want Daddy,” she said, pouting at me.
“I know, sweetie, but remember what we talked about.”
It was getting hard to look at Fortune now. An aura surrounded him, bright gold.
“Let the boy go, Weathers,” Fortune said.
“Oh, The Man wants me to let the boy go,” Weathers said in a nasty voice. He flexed his biceps, squeezing Drake. But Drake didn’t start crying. I wanted to bubble the hell out of Weathers.
“The Man’s got to control all the power in the world,” Weathers said. It was freaky how persuasive he suddenly sounded to me. “Can’t let anyone else use any power.”
“Let the boy go,” Fortune said again. “Sprout wants her daddy.”
Weathers glanced at me and Sprout. His face softened and you could see that he loved her. He dropped Drake, who landed hard on his hands and knees.
“Drake,” I said in as calm a voice as I could. “Come to me.”
“Let Sprout go,” Weathers said.
“Not until Drake is over here.” I stared right into Weathers’s face. I knew he had a lot of power, but I also knew I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me.
Drake scrambled to his feet and ran to me. As soon as he touched my hand, I let Sprout go.
She ran to Weathers and they embraced. Their golden heads bent together. Family reunion.
After Weathers checked Sprout and saw she was okay, he looked back at the rest of us. The expression on his face was pure, mad hatred.
“Don’t try anything,” Fortune said. “There are dozens of aces here. You can’t take us all down.”
I glanced around. The SCARE aces had obviously decided that Weathers was a bigger threat than we were. They had turned their attention from us to him and were slowly circling.
“To hell with you and the Committee, Fortune,” Weathers said. “And those nimrods from SCARE. What I want now is Bahir. I frown on people who kidnap my child.”
Fortune laughed. “You’re not getting Bahir,” he said. “You’ve got Sprout. We’ve got Drake. End of conversation.”
A cruel smile formed on Weathers’s face. Bad as his angry face was, this one was worse. There was a horrible feeling in my gut. Worse than when those helicopters had gone down in Egypt and all those people had died.
Weathers gave a yank at the medallion around his neck. The leather cord broke, leaving a thin line of blood on his neck. He began to swing the medallion around. It reminded me of Lohengrin patterning his sword. It spun faster and faster, glinting in the sun.
My hands started shaking. Drake had hold of one of them, and he squeezed it.
“You were always a clever boy, Fortune,” Weathers said. The medallion whirred. “I could have used you in The Movement. But you had to go and work for the government.” He moved backward, taking Sprout with him. “Oh, wait, you work for all the governments. That makes you the worst traitor of all.”
He kissed Sprout on the forehead and opened his free arm wide. “Hop up, baby.” Sprout wrapped her arms and legs around him as if she really were a four-year-old. And he began to slowly rise into the air.
“I can’t kill you all,” he said, looking around the park. “But he can.”
The medallion flew from his hand and hit Drake in the chest. Drake stood there, frozen for a moment. Then he staggered back, pushing me into the statue of Andrew Jackson, and we both fell against the statue. Weathers shot into the sky and disappeared.
“Drake!” I cried. “Oh, my God, Drake!”
I slid out from behind him, then looked down and saw that the medallion was buried in his chest. Drake reached a shaking hand up and touched the blood, then pulled the medallion out of his chest. He held it up in front of his face as if he couldn’t decide what it was. His eyes began to glow.
A cold knife went into my heart.
I looked up and saw Cameo, Hoodoo Mama, and Earth Witch running toward us.