Dues of Mortality (18 page)

Perry
Jones watched Glenda stand before the bathroom mirror. She tenderly
smoothed her fingertips over the anti-inflammatory bandage concealing
the knot on her head. It was the first time she had gone in there for
a reason other than taking a pee. She had already taken four of them
in the last hour and would be pissing green tea for a week, at the
rate she was slurping it down. She exited the bathroom and returned
to the futon. The room's webscreen played in the background and a
stray word from its broadcast clamped on to Glenda’s ear. A
news station was reporting the downed plane of Cleveland businessman
Peter Simonton, President of SiPlus Steel. It was also announced that
Simonton was wanted for questioning by federal authorities. The
company had recently filed for chapter eleven and potential fraud and
embezzlement charges were formally being sought. Simonton was an
amateur skydiver and licensed pilot, but he had not flown in nearly a
year. He’d chartered a plane at Hopkins International Airport
less than twenty-four hours ago. Glenda missed the initial reports of
her former employer’s errant plane, as she was involved in her
own drama. Only now, was she catching up with the details and news of
a possible crash site found in the Adirondacks. “Oh, my god.”

The
door to the motel room buzzed and Jones gripped his MAG. He walked
over to the view panel and tapped its screen. An image of officer Lou
Percy staring nakedly into the outer camera appeared before him.

****

“
So what’s the deal,
man?” Bowen asked. “You just like going around doing the
Batman thing?”

Xavier
finally cracked a smile. He was, by no means, a vigilante nor a hero.
In fact, that had hardly been the case. He'd simply crawled behind a
dumpster to sleep off his afternoon drunk. The alley was quiet; the
big brick buildings stifled the sounds of the street. There were no
pedestrians to trip over him and no cop would have found him and
ordered him to move along. He licked at his still swollen lip. He
didn’t want a thing more to do with that alley business—no
cops, no interviews, no lawyers; none of it. But Bowen was so damn
affable it was easy to forget he was a cop. In fact, Bowen was doing
so well winning him over that Xavier found himself having quite the
time keeping his mouth shut. Bowen had them on course to the motel
now, hoping to get an impromptu I.D. from Glenda. So far, Xavier’s
version of the incident squared completely with hers and, selfish as
it was, Bowen couldn't wait to see the look on her face.

“
Personally,
I happen to like Batman,” Bowen said. “He was one of my
favorites as a kid. He’s the only superhero a regular guy could
actually become with enough training and discipline.”

“
And
billions of dollars,” Xavier said. “Don't forget the
billions of dollars. It would never work, though. Tabloids would have
his secret identity exposed in less than a week.”

“
Ha.
Yeah, guess they would.”

As
they entered the motel, Xavier started to look more nervous, almost
claustrophobic. Bowen sensed it and realized he was still on shaky
ground with the guy.

“
Seriously
though, to hear her tell it, that was really
something
you did back there,” Bowen
said. The admiration in his voice was at full volume. “Don’t
get me wrong. I’m not advocating that ordinary citizens go out
on the streets acting like vigilantes. But I figure we’re in
this thing together. If one of us is helped, all of us are helped.
You know what I mean?”

“
Yeah,
I suppose so,” Xavier said.

Bowen
nodded. “
So, how long did
you serve?”

Xavier
hesitated. “Five years. I did my last eighteen months with the
447
th
MP company out of Zanesville. Good bunch of
guys down there.”

“
No
stuff!” Bowen flared with awe and defused in the same breath.
“Well, I don’t get it. What happened?”

Shit
,
Xavier thought and
scratched a nonexistent itch under his
stubble. He had no mind to sing his hard luck sonata. Never did. But
maybe he could stomach the short version as long as it didn't lead to
more questions. “We got transferred after things started
getting hot in Syria. When I came back, I tried...well, I
tried
.
You’re just never the same after...” Xavier inhaled,
already fatigued from the short version. “Well, just had
trouble...never the same.”

Bowen
stopped them as they turned onto the
second floor interior
hallway. They were just a few doors down from Glenda’s room and
Bowen saw Lou Percy standing in front of it. The room door was open.

“
Listen,
I know it wasn't easy for you to come here,” Bowen said. “The
guys in my club aren't very popular these days. Everyone thinks we're
a bunch of self-righteous thugs, who beat innocent people into a coma
for jaywalking. And this whole scandal thing isn't helping any. I
thank you for trusting me.”

With
that, Xavier finally felt his gut relax. As trusting as Bowen was,
part of him had still been expecting a make-out session with a
nightstick. Xavier was just about to say as much when officer Lou
Percy was shot straight through the head from inside the room.

“
Percy!”
Bowen screamed. He combined his forward motion with a lightning draw
of his sidearm. He ordered Xavier to stay down and raced to the
doorway.

A
high velocity MAG shot had completely torn away the southwestern
section of Percy's face and head.
Blood
and tissue spattered the nearby walls and the formerly eggshell
carpeting was becoming a seabed for the ocean of crimson pooling
beneath him.
“Aw, god,” Bowen exclaimed, his
cheeks bloating. He sucked it up as best he could and flattened
himself against the wall. Seeing Percy like that did him damage, but
it didn't override his more immediate concern for Glenda Jameson. He
leveled his gun and entered the room with the typical slice-the-pie
technique. He was instantly relieved to find Glenda Jameson still
alive. However, he was
not so
relieved to see that Perry Jones had her clutched in front of him
with the barrel of his MAG lodged in her spine.

“
Jones?”
Bowen said breathless. He couldn't take his eyes off Jones's gun.
“What the hell are you doing?”

“
Don't
get in my way,” Jones said.

Bowen's
eyes went thin. “What are you talking about, don't get in your
way? What are you doing? Who shot Lou?”

“
He
did!” Glenda shouted. “Help me!”

Jones
tugged hard on the arm he had around Glenda's throat—a signal
to keep quiet.

Bowen
thought immediately of the department's corruption scandals.
Was
Jones dirty?
he asked himself. He sharpened his aim on
Jones’s right eye—the only part of Jones exposed. “I
don't know what's going on, but I won't let you hurt her, Jones.”

Jones
sensed the shift in Bowen's aim and compensated.

“
Don't
get in my way,” Jones said again.

Abruptly,
another room's door opened from across the hall. The commotion had
attracted another guest. A hefty man in a Rock & Roll Hall of
Fame commemorative sweatshirt screamed girlishly at the sight of Lou
Percy's half decapitated corpse.

“
Get
back inside,” Bowen shouted.

Perry
Jones seized on the distraction. He fired once, hitting Bowen just
above the right collar bone, where body armor was absent. The
screaming sweatshirt ducked back inside, slamming his door and
engaging locks.

Jones's
shot had propelled Bowen out into the hall. His back hit the wall
behind him and he tumbled sideways in Xavier's direction. He seemed
determined to stay on his feet until he reached him. Xavier closed
the distance between them and collected Bowen as his legs gave out.
The rookie slumped into Xavier's arms, softening his landing onto the
floor. Xavier tried to pull him farther out of range of the doorway,
but he didn't have the strength. Bowen lay on his back wheezing and
squirming like a fish out of water.

“
Oh,
God, kid,” Xavier said mournfully. Bowen's wound was spouting
blood like a drinking fountain. Xavier passed glances between Bowen
and the doorway. He had witnessed everything. In fact, he fully
expected Jones to appear in the hallway any second to finish them
off. “Hang on, kid, I’m gonna get an ambulance.”

“
No
time,” Bowen coughed.

“
Aw,
come on, now,” Xavier said, a lump swelling in his throat.
“Don’t get like that on me. I know your type; you're not
gonna quit that easy.” Nightmare visions of Syria tumbled
through Xavier's head and he saw Hugo Rafferty take a sniper's bullet
in the chest from over a thousand yards out behind the border. The
shot passed less than a centimeter from Hugo's heart. With a
collapsed lung and massive blood loss, he held on for nearly three
hours in the sweltering desert heat before a Medevac became
available.

“
Stay
with me, kid,” Xavier insisted.

“
Glenda...h...h...huuuhh.
My gun...h...h...huhuh...take my gun.”

“
What?”

“
Protect...h...h...protect
her!”

“
But
I...”

Bowen
thrust his gun at Xavier's chest. “Go!” he said, somehow
finding the strength to push Xavier away. In fact, he almost made it
seem like he’d kick Xavier's ass if he didn’t follow
orders like a good soldier. His head then fell to the floor and he
was gone.

Xavier
stood up, trying to catch his breath. More images of Syria...and of
Elana
played in his
mind.
He had now fully reverted
to his days of hitting insurgent hideouts in abandoned shanties.
Protect
,
his mind shouted.
He took to the outside of the doorway and tried to get a visual on
Jones and his hostage.

Perry
Jones was angling to get a view of the hall. He now knew someone had
accompanied Bowen, but he hadn't seen who. His left hand had migrated
to Glenda's throat while his right kept steady aim at the doorway.
“Don't get in my way!” he hollered again, as if all other
verbiage had abandoned him.

“
Jones,
what are you doing?” Xavier shouted. “You just killed two
of your own men!”

Jones
just fired brazenly in the direction of the voice.

Xavier
backed off and tried to consider his options. What
would
happen if he returned fire? Would the law even be on his side?

“
Jones,”
Xavier said. “Please, I surrender! I just want to...”
Another shot hit the doorjamb, throwing a splinter into Xavier’s
hand. “God damn it! Are you crazy?”

“
Help
me!” Glenda shouted. “Please!”

Xavier
gazed over at Bowen's body, the rookie's words sounding off like fire
alarms in his head now.
Protect
her.
Protect her!
Protect...Elana!
Xavier imagined it as clear as day:
Elana Hatten screaming for help as that shit-sack Derrick
Moses aimed down on her.

My
fault
, he thought.
I
wasn't there. I wasn't
...

Xavier
tucked and rolled to just inside the door and inline of the room's
freestanding microwave. Jones fired into the microwave and it
exploded on impact. Xavier then used the millisecond distraction to
take an inaccurate shot at Jones’s leg. Jones roared in pain,
and then exposed part of his own torso aiming for another shot.
Xavier rose to one knee and fired directly at Jones’s right
side. His shot struck Jones in the upper abdomen and allowed Glenda
to break away. Jones dropped his weapon and slumped against the wall
behind him. His fingers raked the plaster as he slid downward. Once
Jones was still and prone to the floor, Xavier rushed to Glenda's
side.

“
Are
you hurt?” he asked.

Glenda
turned to him. “You,” she exclaimed, her tear-soaked face
somehow managing to look more awed than ever. “What the hell
are
you
doing
here?”

“
Are
you
hurt
?
”
Xavier
repeated.

“
I
don't think so,” Glenda replied, hysterical. “Am I
bleeding? You know sometimes you get hurt and don’t know it
until you see blood.”

“
No,
you’re not bleeding that I can see.”

Glenda
looked down at Jones, ready to bolt at the first sign of life in the
creep. “He was going to kill me. Why was he going to kill me?”

“
I
don't know. But I think we should get out of here.”

****

Miles Gabriel held the uplink's
screen in his palms, looking like he was about to ram his head
through it. The signal was fluctuating heavily. It wasn't keeping up
with the program’s changes. It began freezing in microbursts,
giving Gabriel ten different types of fits.

“
Don’t
you do it, you piece of shit,” he grumbled. A patron with half
a sandwich in his mouth glanced over. Gabriel should have stayed in
the men's room, where privacy was assured, but he wanted to have
some
amount of visual scrutiny. If
something drastic went wrong like...The signal froze again.
Fuck!