Chapter 16

"You say this family was involved in drug dealing. The people I used to work for are also secretly deeply involved in those activities. They're stirring up as much trouble as they can against The Spiritists because they know if the candidate The Spiritists are backing for president wins, she'll put an end to their dirty organization. She's already made it quite clear that's her intent once elected. The old boy network doesn't intend to go without a fight. The troubles here are a perfect opportunity for them to take action, without being directly suspected."
"Wonderful!" the sheriff muttered. "Who in the hell else is going to show up around here, the mafia? Well, you can take the car. Tell the driver I want him to write down everything that happened when he drove into town this afternoon. There had to have been somewhere, some place they were able to get near enough to put this thing under the car!"
"I'll have him work on it," Hatfield assured.
The sheriff went back to his regular duties. It was almost ten o'clock by the time he finally told the dispatcher he'd had enough and was going home. He'd like to have had a snack but he'd used his calorie allotment for that day, and he didn't want to exceed it. There was no question he was going to have to get some smaller pants!
He parked his cruiser in the usual spot, got out, shut the door and stretched. He didn't notice the small red dot shining on the door behind him. He had just about reached the steps, when he heard the popping and whooshing sound. Suddenly something grabbed him, reached under his armpits, picked him uup, and carried him away from the house. As they came to a stop something in the sheriff's mind told him to crouch down. The next thing he knew something was wrapping around him. He had the sense of being very dense, rigid, hard. Then the universe exploded. When it finally calmed down what was around him began to unwrap, and the sheriff realized they were large, leathery wings!
In the light of his now burning house he saw a winged being standing over him. It was perhaps six feet tall, covered in plush fur, except for around its face and the palms of its hands. It wore a simple tunic-like garment. Suddenly it jerked back and the sheriff instantly realized it had been shot!
"Shield him," the being roared, "while I get these bastards!"
To the sheriff's amazement a second individual appeared, a beautiful blonde headed woman in silver armor, and carrying a shield. She quickly positioned herself between the sheriff and the source of the fire and crouched down behind the shield. Bullet after bullet could be heard dinging off it!
In the distance there was a horrid scream, then another, and finally a third. Then all was quiet. The woman unhooked something on the shield, flipped it, and it closed, becoming a narrow ornament which she attached to her armor. "You all right, Greg?" she asked.
The sheriff began to examine himself. "I think so," he answered, "What in the hell happened?
"They fired a laser guided rocket at your house. If my husband hadn't moved you...well, there wouldn't be much left right now."
The winged being walked out of the woods holding his shoulder. "Damn!" he moaned, "That's going to slow me down the rest of the night! Is he all right?"
"Fine!" the woman answered. "But we cut that too damned close!"
"Well, considering we just found out about it ten minutes ago, I think we did pretty good! We've got to go catch up with The Ax Man. We want there to be something left of our hooded friends. Sorry we can't chit chat!" he said turning to Greg. "Busy night! The one in the woods that's still got any sense left has something to tell you. You'd better go get her quick. We're outta here!"
He spread his wings, ran off and leapt skyward. The woman undid her shield, opened it, spun it and soared after him.
"Jesus Christ!" the sheriff muttered. He keyed his mic. "Dispatch, do you read?"
"Yes, sheriff!" the night man's voice answered.
"Get the fire department up to my house," the sheriff continued. "There won't be much left of it by the time they get here, but we don't want a forest fire."
While he was talking he'd made his way into the woods. The mens' moans helped him find them. "I've got three men down," he continued. "They look bad. Gonna need an ambulance, maybe a couple."
He saw a figure in the shadows and motioned the person forward. He should've drawn his pistol but somehow knew it wasn't necessary. "I was told you had something to tell me," the sheriff snapped.
It was a woman's voice that answered.
"There's bombs on the gas tanks at the resort. They're programmed to go off at midnight. There won't be much left afterwards."
"Get in my car!" the sheriff screamed. "Dispatch, did you hear that?"
"Yes sir!" Dispatch answered. "I've got their number. I'm punching right now."
"Tell them I'm coming!" the sheriff screamed.
They reached his car. The woman got in front without hesitation. The sheriff climbed in, and in moments they were roaring towards the resort.
"Are you CIA?" he screamed at the woman.
"Yes," she answered.

Page 29

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