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Busted Flush

“If you’re smart you won’t arrest any of them. The press has been showing round-the-clock pictures of the Committee saving a historic American city. You’ll look bad. And it won’t be general knowledge, but we all know that a million people could have died today.” I nod toward Bubbles. “Lohengrin is always a little too operatic, and this is totally a cliché, but she did save the day at great cost to herself.”

“You should report to the AG. Let her make the call,” says the Angel with a fine sense of when to pass the buck upstairs.

Ray nods and they walk away together. His arm goes around the Angel’s waist. I suddenly miss Niobe horribly. I need to get home and tell her about Drake. That he’s safe.

Bugsy joins Lohengrin and me. He’s wearing pants, his shirt is unbuttoned, and he’s carrying his shoes. “Hey, we did it.”

“Yes. We won . . . this time.”

“This time. That implies there’ll be a next time.”

“Bet on it. Weathers is a man who holds a grudge.”

Bugsy looks alarmed “Who do I talk to about this? John’s in the hospital. We’ve got nobody in charge.”

“You better figure out who that person should be,” I say.

Looking like a dejected basset hound, Bugsy starts buttoning his shirt. “Are you going to stay and help us?” Lohengrin asks.

It’s an interesting question. I’ve spent a year trying to blunt their effectiveness, but what ultimately blew them apart wasn’t my petty manipulations, but fundamental questions of fairness and governance.

I have quite comprehensively burned the bridge to the Silver Helix. Siraj wants to kill me. Weathers wants to kill me. I’m going to need the Committee to handle Weathers. Which means I have to patch them back together, and expand their abilities. I glance over at the tent which now covers Bubbles’s inert body. Hoodoo Mama kneels at Bubbles’s head, gently stroking her hair.

“Yes, yes, I believe I shall.”

“Wunderbar, we should start talking to the others right now.”

“Actually, I’ve got someplace better to be. I’m going home.”

I make the transition to Lilith. Lohengrin looks like he’s swallowed all the mud, detritus, and insects in Jackson Square. It would probably have been kinder to make the change in private, but why cut the puppy’s tail, or dick, off by inches?

“Oh, dude, you’ve been sleeping with her. Except she’s not a her. She’s a him. Actually she’s two hims. That’s kind of gay,” Bugsy says.

Lohengrin’s face is suffused with blood. He looks like he’s about to cry. “You betrayed me.”

“Welcome to romance,” I say, and make the jump Between.

“‘. . . come away—’ ” There’s a knock on the door. Niobe breaks off reading and rears up out of the crook of my arm. Alarm tightens the soft line of her jaw. The single reading lamp next to the chair forms a pool of light on the worn carpet. My shadow flits across the wall dancing to the rhythm of the crackling flames. I draw the Glock and let it rest against my leg.

It’s Flint. The rain is hissing on the pavement and running in rivulets down the crags of his stone face.

“I need you back.”

I shake my head.

“What happened to you?”

“It’s interesting how the death of one good man can put everything in perspective,” I say.

His disgust is evident as he says, “So this is about losing Daddy.”

“No, actually, it’s about not wanting to be part of an organization that would make a twelve-year-old into a mass murderer.”

“It was the cleanest solution.”

“Not for Drake.”

“What do you want?”

“To be left in peace. Oh, and your resignation.” The fire in his eyes seems to burn brighter. “I have every action I’ve ever taken on behalf of the Silver Helix and Britain detailed. It will be released to the papers and to a particular blogger if anything happens to me or mine.”

“All right.” My surprise at the capitulation must have shown. “You can try to deny what you are, but nothing has changed. At heart you are still a killer, Noel.”

Oddly the attempt to play head games doesn’t faze me. I chuckle and begin to close the door. “Good night, Captain. Stay dry.”

I return to Niobe and snuggle in close against her. “Now, where were we?”

She picks up the book and resumes reading. “ ‘For lo, the winter is past, and the rain is over and gone.’ ”

THE

WRITERS AND CREATORS

OF THE WILD CARD

CONSORTIUM

George R. R. Martin

Lohengrin, Hoodoo Mama, Holy Roller

Melinda M. Snodgrass

Double Helix, Lilith, Bahir

John Jos. Miller