Post by Admin on May 18, 2010 15:37:19 GMT -5
Birds
of
Prey
#1: Birds Take Flight!
Written by Samantha Chapman and Don Walsh
Cover by Steve Howard
Edited by House Of Mystery
of
Prey
#1: Birds Take Flight!
Written by Samantha Chapman and Don Walsh
Cover by Steve Howard
Edited by House Of Mystery
Six months ago...
...it was a brilliant curtain of fiery oranges and golden warmth that signaled the day's end for the Gardeners, so-called for the simple life the group had chosen to follow, and for Garden County, that part of Nebraska where they'd started the first of their communes. A couple of dozen people milled about after a hard day of work: tilling, carpentry, sewing, and more; but work they'd come to find satisfying. They washed hands and faces at a large outdoor sink; they stretched tired limbs and chatted about the little things they'd encountered through their day; they put away tools where they belonged; they little suspected the end of their peaceful days.
Two plain white vans pulled up sharply onto the front lot of the sprawling ranch house that acted as the Gardeners' main building. The side doors slid open and eight people leaped out quickly. Dressed in heavy black gear, trimmed in blood red claw-shaped markings, they carried sleek automatic firearms with long suppression barrels, and every stony-faced expression indicated a willingness to pull the trigger.
The oldest of the men, weathered and scarred, a lifetime of battles worn on his flat face, signaled with his hand. Rigorous training kicked in and the attackers formed a curved line that swept in toward the main house. Crashing doors and shattered windows resounded across the still evening, followed quick by fearful cries and panicked yells.
"Don't anyone move, don't anyone do anything stupid!" The order came from the backyard, from a woman in black and silver. She dashed out from the dark edges of the farmstead, and brown eyes glared at the Gardeners. She was well-muscled, sleek and commanding, her strong Jamaican features adding an exotic look to her. "Don't make us do anything, and we all walk away from this breathing, understood?" She strode through the lots of tilled soil, and glanced at the huddled people in their simple, homespun clothes. The eight armed attackers from the front had swept through the house now, and forced into the yard any stragglers.
"You," the leader said as he struck one of the Gardeners on the small of her back. "You go up and talk to Onyx, and for the sakes of all these people here, you'd better play straight with her."
The slim young woman grunted and staggered forward, dropped to one knee from the blow, but refused to be intimidated. Instead she stood back up quickly and walked with a proud face to Onyx. The woman in black and silver swept her short cape over one shoulder, and drew out a dagger with a short curved blade, with a wicked point and spiked finger guards. It looked ancient, this bagh nakh, and it looked lovingly cared for.
"What do you want from us?" the woman said as her ice blue eyes met the dark mocha glare without flinching. Her heart pounded, and the weight of her Gardeners' lives bore on her lithe shoulders, but she wouldn't show it. "We're peaceful. We toil the Mother Earth and retreat from the darkness of the world. Why do you do this?"
The dagger was pressed up close, the edge biting at the woman's smooth flesh just under her jaw. Onyx looked at her very closely. "Well, Tabitha Root, if that's what you want people to call you, it's real simple. We need your leader."
"We have no leader. We work together, and share ideas, and bring--"
"Shut up! God, I hate grammar Nazis. Fine, your founder. You know who I mean, so don't push me!" Onyx growled angrily. Her other hand grabbed the back of Tabitha's head and pulled it in close, and with a hiss she whispered, "These people want you dead. Tell me where Jenny Apple is, and I can get them out of here and you all live. Don't...don't...make this bad for all of us."
Tabitha was surprised at the hidden plea beneath Onyx's threatening hiss. She expected to be threatened again, wasn't surprised to be manhandled like this. But the words...that subtle tone...
"Well? Do we kill one, Onyx? That gonna rattle Root's tongue a bit, you think?" the squad leader called out, and stomped up to an older man. He pressed the barrel of his weapon to the wrinkled flesh.
"She's ready to speak, Weller. Hold your horses," Onyx barked back and then returned her lips close to Tabitha's ear. "Speak fast!"
"I will give you the answer you need," Tabitha said softly in return and pressed her own mouth to Onyx's ear now. Her lips moved, and noise passed the shell of her ear, and on into the warrior's mind. As she spoke though, Onyx picked out no real words, but the ideas filled her head and her eyes spread wide.
"What's that witch doin' to her?" asked the second-in-command as they watched Onyx's body go stiff. She backed away from Tabitha slowly, and sheathed her weapon.
"Boss, I think we just lost Onyx," Weller said as he touched his finger to the earpiece. He heard the response and grinned. "Let 'em rip, boys."
Onyx watched as the killers began to fire at the Gardeners. Weller's first shot struck the back of Tabitha's head, but the woman just smiled at Onyx. She'd done her duty, her life's work, she could see it in the costumed woman's own face, and she fell to her knees with a smile that slowly bloodied. "Go."
Onyx watched her world turn red and green and brown, spin around her, and then she ran, for only the second time in her life.
* * * * *
Today, in Platinum Flats
The last time she’d been to the Coyote Café, it had been crammed full of people on a rainy weekend. Today was bright and relatively warm, and a work day besides, so Jonni had more of a chance to look around and absorb the atmosphere. For being closer to the tourist trap end of the city, it was themed tastefully. There were cacti in pots in the corners, kept in good enough condition to flower occasionally. The pictures that lined the walls were in all styles; paintings, etchings, color, black-and-white, all representing the animals of the land’s old mythology, the way the Native Americans knew them. Even the requisite Jackalope head hung near the doorway was subtle, his antlers proportionate to his ears instead of branching out a mile long. Though Jonni chuckled when she took her seat at a table in the corner, she liked the little place; it had real character. She liked character.
She sipped at her drink and took out the tiny laptop, starting a game of solitaire while she waited for the call. When it arrived, Mockingbird appeared on her screen in the same silhouette that he always used, and a steaming mug of coffee on his own desk. “Good morning, my dear. You’re looking well.”
“Good morning,” she answered with a smile. With the help of Kendra’s more modern sensibilities, Jonni had been able to find a simple, subtle headset for these meetings. The headphones carried his voice straight to her ears, and a small microphone settled close to her cheek to caught her own. “I’d say the same if I could see you.”
“You returned here,” Mockingbird noticed. Jonni glanced behind her, to the swirling watercolor behind her, showing a coyote staring up into the desert sky. “I’m surprised. I thought you’d want a more private place. You do have an office.”
Jonni shrugged. “I do, but it doesn’t have coffee this good. Or wireless Internet, for that matter.” She took another sip and crossed her legs under the table. “Halo talked about fixing that soon, now that my new toy gives me a reason. But it’s not a bad place, I might come back anyway. There’s a certain charm to it.”
“I fully agree.” Mockingbird drew his own mug to his lips, acting for all the world as if this were a normal business meeting, and Jonni were right across the table. “So you seem to have done well for yourself in Niger. She’s calling herself Halo?”
“That’s what she likes,” Jonni nodded. “I don’t suppose you have her real name somewhere, with all that other information you dish out?”
Mockingbird laughed, light and breezy. “You know better, Jonni. Even if I knew, you wouldn’t want me to tell you before you had a chance to find out.”
“It might make Halo feel better, though,” Jonni countered. “But yes. We stopped SPIDER, and as well as I think we could have.” She quickly explained what had happened, with the energy creature in the diamonds, and the multiple Mortallas.
Mockingbird stroked at his chin at the last mention. “Ah…clever. Very clever indeed, those girls. I wouldn’t expect less from SPIDER.”
“So you’ve run into them before?”
He only smiled again. “Them, no. But SPIDER, yes, just not very often. I think you’ll find more than a few missions like these along the road. There’s no point in collecting a group of agents if I never use them for my personal ends.”
Jonni watched his face intently. “That’s a new clue. Some kind of rivalry with SPIDER…I’ll have to keep collecting them.”
“You will indeed, my dear woman. But the next job I have for you won’t be so helpful, I’m afraid.” The laptop pinged and a small pop-up announced a new message. “The information will all be in that file. The woman is called Red Claw.”
Jonni’s eyebrow raised as she drained her cup. “I’m detecting a lot of women in these assignments of yours, so far.”
With his easy chuckle, Mockingbird nodded. “What can I say, a man like me collects them. But don’t be fooled, and don’t underestimate her. Red Claw is new to the United States but well-known elsewhere. She’s traveling here. You are to stop her.”
“From what?”
“It’s all in your file,” he said, with a Cheshire grin, and the window closed out.
She huffed out her annoyance and glanced down into her coffee cup, deciding to leave the netbook open. As long as she was here, it couldn’t hurt to look through the information before returning to the office. But she needed more coffee for this.
The man behind the counter took her order with a smile, and must have noticed her irritation. “Something not working out so well over there?” he asked as he prepared the drink.
“Oh…just hiccups,” she peered around the counter to check his name tag, “Franklin.”
“You can call me Frank,” he told her, tossing her a look over his shoulder. “And yeah, I know how hiccups can be. Always gets hard, that kind of long-distance thing. Lonely, I bet.”
“Excuse me?” Jonni politely tried to hide her sudden laugh in a coughing fit behind her hand.
Frank’s face went red when he saw the look on hers. “Oh, sorry, I mean…Just, with you being all secretive in the corner there, I figured, y’know, a boyfriend or something…not that I’m complaining, mind you, if you haven’t got…one….ah, here.” He placed the cup too hard on the counter, and the dark liquid bubbled up and spilled on the lid. Frank darted back to the register, and Jonni took her drink with a bemused smile, that would fade away quickly when she began her research.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, across town
The girl known only as Halo honed her skills as she stood in her bare white bedroom. She breathed slow and evenly, carefully focusing herself and her energies. Her memory still began at the ruined ship in the desert: her name, her powers, her history were all lost to her. It would be a very long time still before it all came back, but in the meanwhile Halo had been happy simply to discover her abilities.
She had seen the way that yellow energy created a dazzling light all around herself, and found the powerful burst of hard light that came from orange (that had cost Jonni a fair amount to repair the wall). Today she thought it might be more prudent to try a cooler color, and as she focused her eyes turned blue. The room started to ripple all around her and Halo stopped; when everything went right again, she let the blue energy take over and watched how it distorted her perceptions. It was like being underwater, the whole world tinted and shimmering.
“Ooo…” she murmured, ecstatic as always about the things that she could do. She let the room spin around her, standing tranquil and calm in the center until the bright chime of the doorbell announced the end of her training time. In an instant, her concentration faded and all turned back to normal, the walls back to white. “I’m coming!”
Halo opened the door to the apartment with a gleaming smile on her face. “Come in, welcome, I’ve been waiting to meet you!”
“Thanks.” Kendra Saunders smiled back easily and stepped inside, leading a young woman behind her. “We were just taking a tour. Ran into Jonni at that place with the good lattes,” she explained, holding up an empty paper cup. “Halo, this is Cynthia. Cynthia, Halo.”
The girl Cynthia was a little more subdued, but she smiled all the same as she took the hood of her jacket away from her head, letting black hair spill down her back. Her skin was a dusky color somewhere between Kendra’s tan and Halo’s black, and she wore rich colors that set it off well. She reached her slim hand out to shake Halo’s. “How are you?”
“Good, really good.” Halo ushered them in to the living room. Although the apartment was new and not fully-furnished, it had been made comfortable and homey and the chairs were soft. “Did you decide yet? Are you going to be my friend?” Halo asked with childish delight.
Cynthia, who had another name in her heart, shifted in her chair. “Well, maybe. I mean, Platinum Flats seems like a really cool place. And Kendra and Dawn, they're great to me. And everyone else seems really neat, but I'm not sure I'm up for this, moving around, starting a new life again, back to the super-hero stuff.” Halo’s words sunk in a minute late, and Cynthia looked her over carefully. Despite the soft skin and strong, hardened body, there was something very young about the woman. “So, uh, how old are you?”
When Halo didn’t answer right away, Kendra saved the conversation. “Let’s not start in on the tough questions right away,” she said with a small laugh. “We don’t know a lot about Halo, I told you that. Just that she’s good people.”
“I am, I am good people,” Halo nodded her agreement.
Cynthia settled herself down, the grin on Halo’s face reassuring her. “Of course, I didn’t mean, nothing bad, or anything. I trust you,” She gave Kendra the look of an adoring student. “It’s just all sudden.”
“For me, everything is sudden.” This time, Halo spoke with the wisdom of her lost years. “I woke up and had to be used to so many things all at once. I don’t know who I am, but I had to be Halo. I don’t know where I come from, and I had to live here. But it hasn’t been so hard,” she added, with her far-away smile. “This home is beautiful, and close to where I work, and Jonni allows me to stay here on this Mockingbird’s fortune. The only trouble is being left alone.”
“It’s really a good deal,” Kendra chimed in, after a moment’s pause for Halo’s words to linger in the air. “Whoever he is, this guy’s richer than the devil. You can save some money up, Jonni’s got a good detective business going.”
With a small nod, Cynthia chuckled. “Right…because I’ve been doing so well with retail jobs. You’re right…It would be good for me, wouldn’t it? And a Gypsy, I guess she shouldn't be stuck in one place too long?”
Kendra reached over and laid her hand over Cynthia’s. “Good for everybody, to have you on the team.”
“Okay…but one condition?”
“Name it,” Kendra agreed.
“I want you to help train me,” Cynthia smiled almost coyly. “Gypsy needs some more work. I want to be more useful to your new team, then I was with all that stuff back with the League..."
Kendra laughed, and gave the other girl’s hand a squeeze. “Such a steep price to pay," she teased her friend, "but you’ve got a deal.”
Halo beamed her delight, her whole body taking on a glow as she ran forward to give Cynthia a hug, and the newest Bird of Prey knew she was welcome.
As the girls helped move a suitcase into Gypsy's room, Kendra's cell phone rang. "Hiya, your quarter. What's up?"
"Hawkgirl," Wonder Woman's voice said in return. "Kendra, Black Canary from the Outsiders, she just left a message for you, with us. She wasn't sure where to find you, and figured we could..."
"Diana, you're stalling, what's wrong? Miss me that much already?"
"Cyril's dead*," Diana said softly. "I"m...very sorry. Dinah didn't get much of a chance to fill us in, but left a way to contact them, get to meet up with them and learn about it all. Kendra, we're very sorry for you."
"Grandpa," Kendra muttered softly as her hand clicked the phone shut and disconnected the Amazon. "Girls, be good. I'll...I'll be back," she said as she staggered out the door.
*See New Outsiders #47-48/Danger Trail #18-20 "Affairs of Blood and Fate" for details
* * * * *
Somewhere secret
“What do you have for me this time?” The woman’s voice was low and demanding, and tired of being disappointed. Red Claw’s current hiding place was small, and her powerful presence filled the room that she had made her personal headquarters.
The man who handed her the latest stack of papers backed away from her quickly afterward. “Not very much, Ma’am, but it's all we’ve got.”
“The Gardeners?”
“Er, nothing new, Ma’am.”
Red Claw gave him a long, withering look, and took the folder in her hands. “Keep looking. It’s been too long, Apple can’t hide her research forever. Do you have anything else to tell me?”
“No, Ma’am. Unless you need anything else?”
“Leave,” Red Claw ordered. “I’ll want another report tomorrow, but come immediately if you find her before then.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The man bowed his head and withdrew, leaving Red Claw alone in her sanctuary to study the results of her team’s research.
She brushed her long black hair out of her face and sat down again with the papers. Red Claw was a woman who intimidated with everything she had; her looks, her actions, her reputation. Her black hair held a single streak of white, one of her many claws. The same shape was tattooed all over her muscular body, some of the marks hidden by her red bodysuit, and others hidden for only her to see. She was a beautiful woman, in part because of the ice-cold expression that was stuck in her pale blue eyes, the kind of look that warned anyone against getting too close.
Those eyes looked over the papers, expecting the same knowledge that she already had. There was very little new: Jenny Apple and her surviving hippies had been in hiding, and Red Claw had to give her some credit for how hard it was to find her. In six months, the Gardeners' known communes, and then later safe houses offered by loved ones, friends and sympathizers, had been struck down by her people. The scientist now calling herself Jenny Apple still eluded her, but Red Claw never doubted that she would be the one to win in the end. It just meant persistence, and patience.
The collected papers were like the others, the hard woman suspected. Gathered from the wreckage left behind, she hoped they might offer clues to Apple's old research, or her current whereabouts, but they never did. Usually, they offered nothing of interest, nothing.
This time, Red Claw actually smiled, another half-moon gracing her body. There was something new in these reports, something that those below her hadn’t seen. It was hidden, of course. Hardly there, just an obscure pair of words. But Red Claw knew better. This latest collection had netted a book kept by that wretch, Tabitha Root, and it contained two words that made her grin so wickedly.
Wisdom Key. It was just a few references, but enough for Red Claw to understand its importance. Her mind wandered back to that day, half a year ago now, when her best student had been taken from her. Weller's second, Cavett, his report was clear: Onyx had been compromised in close contact with that woman Root, and she'd given her something that changed the only person Red Claw had ever seen as an apprentice. The papers spoke of some mystic object with enough power to do such a thing, to “enlighten” an enemy- although Red Claw was certain that the word was in the eye of the winners. This must be it; this Wisdom Key might be the key to returning everything back to the way it had once been. Red Claw began to write on the papers, sinking into a focused state as deep as any meditation as she planned. In her mind, she could almost see the Key in her possession, Onyx at her side, and Apple's work in her hands.
* * * * *
Athens, Greece
She stood an inch over six feet in height, café au lait skin, alert almond eyes set in a stern face framed by full, untamed brown hair. She stood stock still, hands clenched into fists, and those piercing eyes staring up at the ancient stone structure as it loomed over the city. Finally, after the draw of a deep breath, Zenobia marched up the hillside, to experience the Parthenon, to see if being in this house of Athena might allow her to understand the 'blessing' that haunted her mind.
In her mind's eye, Amazonian storytellers' words brought the broken building back to life; as she drew nearer, she saw wounded stone heal and ruined floor gleam anew. Zenobia carefully stepped through the ruined structure, trying to see it the way it was, the way her ancestors must have seen it. She imagined the statue of Athena Parthenos that once had stood in a place of honor in this building, and she stared up into the imaginary face. Once more she clenched her fists, and lips pursed in frustration.
Why are your words haunting me? You offered me a blessing, and I'm turning it into a curse. She continued to stare up to where the face once was. Other tourists walked around her, giving Zenobia wide berth. Some looked up to where she stared, while others stared at her instead, but none understood, and all moved on with their tours nervously. I'm a warrior. I fight, kill and some day I'll die. Why are you trying to make me more?
<"Can I help you, Miss?">* The security guard approached slowly, wary of the strange, muscular woman. <"You're looking a little lost.">
<"I'm just imagining what she must have looked like when she stood here. Tall and confident, serene and wise,"> Zenobia replied without sparing the guard a glance. Her voice was softer than typical, as her reverie continued to hold her gaze. <"The statue that is.">
<"You know your ancient temples, Miss,"> the guard said, and chuckled. <"Usually it's only the professors and the diggers who know about that.">
<"It was beautiful. So I've been told,"> she said and turned to look at the man at last. She gave him a smile for some reason. There was something about his face that made her relax a moment. <"After so many of my elders have described the Parthenon in its glory days, I can practically see it.">
<"Don't know about that, miss, but I know that if you like the statue, I know they have one of the best collections of art on it out in Boston.">
<"Truly?"> She stared at him now, mused over the fact that some security guard would have such a random piece of information.
<"Truly,"> he replied with a laugh. <"The last group of diggers, they had a woman leading them named Kapatelis, and she was talking about her university back in the States and all the examples they held.">
<"Well, thank you very much for that,"> Zenobia said with a renewed look in her eyes. <"Thank you very much indeed."> With that, she marched away from the ancient structure, marched down the hill, and began to make plans for her next stop. The Kapatelis woman, maybe she could help, if she was so interested in Zenobia's patron.
*translated from Greek
* * * * *
Five months ago...
...she wandered into Midway City. She stepped off the bus and looked around the rundown station. The vehicle pulled away from her in a grinding roar and gasp of diesel that clouded her nose, but that didn't last long. Not in the heavy rain that soaked everyone and everything in moments. Ragged streaks of lightning tore down from the coal-black clouds, and thunder crashed like tsunamis as Onyx attempted to orient herself. She swung her small pack over one shoulder and walked out from the small storefront that acted as the bus station, headed down the sidewalk, hunched but alert.
"Stop! Stop that! No killing!" Onyx cried out as she watched Tabitha's face, that smile dripping blood and life draining from it. It seemed to take seconds for her to fall face down into her farm, and then Onyx looked up to see minutes had passed.
Weller's troops had swept the collected Gardeners clean by then, and a two of his people now hunted down the few stragglers who'd escaped the initial bloodshed. Weller himself looked up at Onyx in dismay, her reaction angering him. "Orders, Onyx. From above you, so that narrows down the guess who." He leveled his gun at her and shook his head. "So make it easy a--"
Weller's eyes widened in shock as the sleek throwing knife buried itself just above the bridge of his nose. He went cross-eyed trying to see the blade clearly, his dying brain struggled to understand what had happened. Onyx merely leaped past him and tried to save the few Gardeners left, as the ringing in her own mind from Tabitha's whisper churned up darkness she'd believed she had buried.
She blinked several times, hard; to clear the dripping rain from her eyes, to stop the way her eyes watered regardless of weather, to focus on the street she walked. She had to remain focused. She had run since then; run long and hard. Red Claw was her mentor, the one who gave her life purpose, gave her Onyx the warrior. A cause and a mission. The one Red Claw confided in her was the first person in all her long years she came to regard as more than just some pawn.
The whispering told her otherwise. The blood shed in Red Claw's name battled with that insane whispering from Tabitha, and it made Onyx stagger against a dirty brick wall. She butted her head against the unyielding brick, as if she were trying to knock the whispering back out of her ear. There was no noble crusade in Red Claw's service, Onyx discovered that night. Weller's men had no orders to let the Gardeners live if they gave the location of Jenny Apple.
"You stupid girl!" Onyx snapped out loud as she smacked her head again into the wall. "Anyone devoted to a life that much, to go as far as they did, there's no way they were going to just cough her up." She pushed off the wall and tried to clear the downpour of rain and clashing memories from her head.
"We need what this woman has developed," Red Claw explained to Onyx as they stood over the LCD table display. An identification photo of an older woman, attractive face lightly lined with the years of work and research and life she'd lived, stared up from the table, imposed over a 3-D display of the Gardeners' Nebraska commune, and a text document tucked down at another corner. "With it, we will have an edge in our mission. With it, we have a weapon other groups won't, and we'll be able to make a real mark in our crusade."
Onyx looked up at Red Claw and nodded. She had a serious look on her face, and then twisted the text page to read it over again. "This is incredibly dangerous."
"Jennifer Appel is. Or was, before she dropped out of sight, and hid herself behind followers, zealots devoted to her cause," Claw answered, as she slid the photo and attached personnel file across the screen to Onyx. "Now Jenny Apple, founder of the Gardeners."
"Wanting to replant the world in their own image. Seems insane," Onyx agreed with a nod of her head. "At least the way they try to describe it."
"Weller and his squad will accompany you. We need Appel, and barring that, the coordinator of this commune is Tabitha Root," Red Claw explained, as she called up a blurry picture of the new woman. "Not much is known about her. She's done a remarkable job of remaining off the grid. She's the one that turned Appel away from good productive research to this world of cults and conspiracies."
"So if Apple's not on the farm, Root should know how to find her," Onyx said with a grin. "Got it. She's as good as gotten."
"Are you well, miss?"
Onyx leaped at the voice, and the touch of the hand on her shoulder. She spun around, her leg coming up in a kick as she did, her mind racing. How could anyone sneak up on me? How could I let my guard down so easily? How could someone have blocked my kick so casually?
Indeed, the newcomer, a smaller man in a raincoat and umbrella, had used the device in combination with his own spin to block the momentum of her kick, and move in closer to her. His left arm snapped up to catch her follow-up punch, and his right thumb pressed the button to close the umbrella back up, so that he could use it to sweep her leg from her.
She fell to the ground and stared up at the strange man, who now stood there, releasing the umbrella's canopy and holding it out for her. "How did you do that?"
"You are quite good. I was lucky. Here, take this," he offered her the umbrella again as she slowly got back to her feet.
"A bit late for an umbrella, don't you think?" she asked as she wiped stray lock of hair from her eyes. She was drenched, worse now from the puddle she'd crashed into.
"Too late for what has come," he answered with an enigmatic smile as he pushed the umbrella forward one more time. "Never too late for what will come next."
She stared at him, a funny sort of stare as she took the umbrella in her hand. The rain thumped and thwacked off the thick material over her head now, but as she blinked her eyes, they cleared and she could see the strange man more clearly. Average in height and build, he had a round face, soft hazel eyes and that smile of his. It was serene and cryptic, friendly and aloof, and it made her want to hit it.
"See? Decisions of today have made your vision clearer." He pointed to a door set into the building she'd been using to hit her head, and her eyes followed his finger. Fellowship of the Full Circle she read and then looked back at him. "It is my home. It is home to everyone looking to learn, that what you have done does not dictate what you can do."
"Redemption?" she asked. The word escaped her lips before she could realize it, and she trembled as she realized that it had been in the whispering of her brain.
"Come, join us. At least for dinner." He walked past her and toward the steps up to the front door, not waiting for her answer.
She stood in the rain, under the umbrella, and shivered some more; from cold, from indecision, discomfort finally winning out. She headed up the stairs and stepped through the doorway.
* * * * *
Evergreen City
Two plain white vans pulled up sharply onto the front lawn of the modest two-story A-frame house, kept apart and hidden from the nearby street by a row of pine trees. The side doors slid open and ten people leaped out quickly. Dressed in heavy black gear, trimmed in blood red claw-shaped markings, they carried sleek automatic firearms with long suppression barrels, and every stony-faced expression indicated a willingness to pull the trigger.
In command of the men was a mean-looking blond-haired man who wore a lifetime of battles on his pocked, broad face. He gave a signal with his left hand, and rigorous training kicked in. The attackers formed pincers on either side of Cavett and closed on house. Crashing doors and shattered windows resounded across the still evening, followed quick by fearful cries and panicked yells.
"That won't help you." The order came from the rear of the house, after the heavy oak door had been kicked off it's frame. Pieces of metal from hinges, lock bolts and chains clattered from the linoleum floor as the silhouette of a large, powerful woman appeared. She pointed to a small blinking light from a device on her belt, as Red Claw let a mean cold smile creep across her face. "We're jamming the entire place. You decided to turn to the law a little too late."
The middle-aged man in the kitchen put his hands up as he looked at her. "Don't kill us, I...I can show you how to get to her," he said quickly, face pale as the phone slipped from his shaking fingers. "We can make a deal."
Sounds of suppressed gunfire started to fill the house, followed by screams of pain as Red Claw continued to walk into the house. She swept her hand out in a fast arc as she walked past the desperate Gardener, and caught him in the head. It was the most casual, disdainful of blows as her strength shattered his temple and spun him around to drop lifeless to the floor.
"Not needed. I know where I'm going," she said with a sneer as she reached a large spacious living room. Her foot tapped at the hastily carpeted floor and then she nodded to herself as the sounds of the house faded at last. She jumped up and used her strength to tear through the wooden floor and into the hidden underground room.
"You're going to get nothing from me," Jenny Apple said. She was nearly as tall as Red Claw, her doe-brown eyes staring at the vicious woman in red. "The research is all gone. Destroyed." Jenny let a small smile slip her lips, even as her eyes teared up from the murder upstairs, and all the blood that led to her.
"I have you, Dr. Appel. That will be sufficient." Her foot kicked up a broken piece of floor and she hurled it with tremendous strength at the scientist, who pulled a gun out from behind her, raising it to her own head. The wood broke Apple's hand and made her cry out in pain, as the firearm dropped from nerveless fingers onto the concrete floor. "And you should have done that long before now if you really wanted to save your people's lives." She gripped Appel by the short hairs at the back of her neck, and drew her in close. Ruby red lips pressed to the scientist's ear, and whispered, "Only one real way to destroy all that research. Too bad you didn't have the courage to take it. Now it's mine."
She crashed her forehead into the scientist's face and knocked her out, then dragged her from the panic room. Already, her mind raced with the ways she'd acquire the information from Dr. Jennifer Appel, and it made her smile grow wider, and her heart race with excitement.