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7/10/2024
I.
At this time of year, Seven PM was still light enough outside to easily read a newspaper. As they rolled over the Mid-Hudson Bridge, Timothy took a glimpse down at the river far below. "Looks like two speedboats are playing tag. Are the people drunk or what? They're going to sink each other."
Next to him in the front passenger seat, Lauren Sable Reilly gazed down and drew on her gift. Her senses could be enhanced by gralic force far beyond what flesh and blood organs could logically do. "Hmm. An open cooler full of beer cans on that boat with blue trim. Two girls arguing with their faces inches away from each other. I hope they don't cause an accident, they shouldn't be on the water in that condition."
Reaching the opposite shore from Poughkeepsie, Timothy swung down a curving ramp and merged with traffic heading north on Rt 9W. He laughed out loud. "If Jin was with us, she'd probably want to dive off the bridge into the river and haul those boaters ashore. She could do it, too."
From the back seat, Jocelyn Garimara said, "I have to face it. What's going to happen to my membership? None of you have mentioned whether I should step down or resign."
"What?" Timothy made a confused sound. "Joss, of course you're still part of the team. Why would you think otherwise?"
"Because I lost my Red Spectre! I don't have any special abilities now. I'm just a skinny little Abo woman. Maybe I'll get a job working in a dollar store."
"None of that," Tim scoffed. "Come on, Jocelyn. We've worked so closely together for all these years. We know we can trust you to have our backs. You won't panic and you know how to make quick decisions in crisis situations. How important do you think that is?"
"Well...I suppose..."
Sable said, "I wasn't even thinking of you stepping down from the team. You're a Tel Shai knight. You know Kumundu and you know all about the Midnight War. Jocelyn, even if your Spectre doesn't remanifest, you're our friend. Don't give it another thought."
"Okay," Jocelyn agreed. "It's nice to be appreciated. I didn't really want to go into retail."
They were entering the town of Highland. On either side of the highway, various business were stretched out with long spaces between them. Many residential houses could be seen on side streets. Spending so much of their time in Manhattan with its skyscrapers, the three KDF members felt a sort of relief at so much open sky around them. Dramatic white cumulus clouds were drifting by slowly overhead.
"Did Sulak and Valera go back to Androval?" asked Tim.
"No. I don't think they're too eager to go home after getting thrashed so thoroughly by Sirion," Sable answered. "There's the pool place."
She turned on to the side road next to the SwimDream Pool Contractors, where a short man with a cigar stub idly watched them roll past. He was talking into his phone with some agitation, next to a children's plastic pool with a SOLD sign on it.
Further down the road was a three story house which, one hundred years ago, had been home to a lkarge extended family and their live-in servants. Those gilded days were long gone. As Sable slowed while going past, the KDF members could see a vertical row of call buttons and name tags. The building had been divided up into five apartments.
"And there's the Accord," she said. "Matches Frank's description exactly, including the license plate."
"Man, he does a lot of work on research," Timothy said. "We described the car we saw Sirion get into. Frank got clear shots of it from red light cameras in the area. Then he compared it to every Accord in this county, found a match and tracked it down. How long would that take?"
"Well, he IS a Trom," Jocelyn put in from the back. "Who does it belong to?"
"He said it's registered to someone named Vincent Massarani, 58, address down in White Plains. The driver's license photo doesn't look anything like the old fellow with the beard we saw."
Sable went back up to normal speed and headed further down the road, then turned aaround and ent back. "That was the only car parked near the house. I think now is when we should check the scene out."
"Funny to be acting in daylight," Timothy observed. "We usually attack in the middle of the night."
Pulling into the parking lot of the boarding house, Sable tapped her Link. "Frank can you get us the floor plan of this house?"
"I'm sending it to your Links now," the Trom's steady voice answered. "It is from when renovations were made in 2021, so there may have been some changes since then."
"Thank you. Stand by. If they run for it, you might be needed to track them."
"I am monitoring business security cameras and home front door cameras surrounding the target," he said. "There is sufficient input to work with."
"Good to know. Carry on." As Sable broke off, she raised one eyebrow at her teammates. "It'd be reassuring to have Frank on the scene, of course, but I think he serves our purposes better this way. For this case, at least."
In the rear, Jocelyn Garimara tapped the three leather satchels on the seat next to her. "In my opinion, we've come up with a better approach than force. When the three strongest living beings all get the snot punched out of them, you can scratch 'strength' off the options."
"Time for your friendly ghosts," Sable said.
"On their way." Timothy held out his upturned hands. Two of the faintly visible whirlwinds formed, five inches high and spinning quickly. They shot out through the partly opened car window and whooshed toward the boarding house.
Watching, Jocelyn Garimara bit back a remark about how lucky Tim was to still have his power. She was determined not to be a bitter drag of a person. She would get up after being knocked down, dust herself off and keep moving. She simply said, "This Sirion didn't pull a robbery last night. I guess the right barney with our Melgarin gave him plenty to think about."
"One death so far," Sable said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "That woman who was jogging. We can't wait for Unicorn to get back. I want this threat ended."
Leaning back, Tim had an unfocussed, faraway look in his eyes. "Only one person in the house right now. Up on the top floor, room in the North corner. There's a man lying on a ratty couch, reading a newspaper. He doesn't have white hair or a beard, though."
"Any evidence in sight?"
"Absolutely," Tim said. "A couple expensive cameras on the dresser, lots of jewelry lying out in the open. There's a small paper bag next to the couch, my caspers are poking into it.. Yep, it's bundles of twenty dollar bills..."
"Good enough," Jocelyn snorted, "If we were cops, we'd have probable cause."
Sable unbuckled her seat belt. "Everyone get their satchels strapped on and ready. Jocelyn, you're coming in with me. Tim, I want you behind the wheel and watching the area with your caspers. If you see Sirion, hit the silent alert on the Links."
They all got out, Timothy moving around the car to get in the driver's seat. Walking close by her captain, Jocelyn realized she had seldom seem Sable so grim.
( the rest of the story )
I.
At this time of year, Seven PM was still light enough outside to easily read a newspaper. As they rolled over the Mid-Hudson Bridge, Timothy took a glimpse down at the river far below. "Looks like two speedboats are playing tag. Are the people drunk or what? They're going to sink each other."
Next to him in the front passenger seat, Lauren Sable Reilly gazed down and drew on her gift. Her senses could be enhanced by gralic force far beyond what flesh and blood organs could logically do. "Hmm. An open cooler full of beer cans on that boat with blue trim. Two girls arguing with their faces inches away from each other. I hope they don't cause an accident, they shouldn't be on the water in that condition."
Reaching the opposite shore from Poughkeepsie, Timothy swung down a curving ramp and merged with traffic heading north on Rt 9W. He laughed out loud. "If Jin was with us, she'd probably want to dive off the bridge into the river and haul those boaters ashore. She could do it, too."
From the back seat, Jocelyn Garimara said, "I have to face it. What's going to happen to my membership? None of you have mentioned whether I should step down or resign."
"What?" Timothy made a confused sound. "Joss, of course you're still part of the team. Why would you think otherwise?"
"Because I lost my Red Spectre! I don't have any special abilities now. I'm just a skinny little Abo woman. Maybe I'll get a job working in a dollar store."
"None of that," Tim scoffed. "Come on, Jocelyn. We've worked so closely together for all these years. We know we can trust you to have our backs. You won't panic and you know how to make quick decisions in crisis situations. How important do you think that is?"
"Well...I suppose..."
Sable said, "I wasn't even thinking of you stepping down from the team. You're a Tel Shai knight. You know Kumundu and you know all about the Midnight War. Jocelyn, even if your Spectre doesn't remanifest, you're our friend. Don't give it another thought."
"Okay," Jocelyn agreed. "It's nice to be appreciated. I didn't really want to go into retail."
They were entering the town of Highland. On either side of the highway, various business were stretched out with long spaces between them. Many residential houses could be seen on side streets. Spending so much of their time in Manhattan with its skyscrapers, the three KDF members felt a sort of relief at so much open sky around them. Dramatic white cumulus clouds were drifting by slowly overhead.
"Did Sulak and Valera go back to Androval?" asked Tim.
"No. I don't think they're too eager to go home after getting thrashed so thoroughly by Sirion," Sable answered. "There's the pool place."
She turned on to the side road next to the SwimDream Pool Contractors, where a short man with a cigar stub idly watched them roll past. He was talking into his phone with some agitation, next to a children's plastic pool with a SOLD sign on it.
Further down the road was a three story house which, one hundred years ago, had been home to a lkarge extended family and their live-in servants. Those gilded days were long gone. As Sable slowed while going past, the KDF members could see a vertical row of call buttons and name tags. The building had been divided up into five apartments.
"And there's the Accord," she said. "Matches Frank's description exactly, including the license plate."
"Man, he does a lot of work on research," Timothy said. "We described the car we saw Sirion get into. Frank got clear shots of it from red light cameras in the area. Then he compared it to every Accord in this county, found a match and tracked it down. How long would that take?"
"Well, he IS a Trom," Jocelyn put in from the back. "Who does it belong to?"
"He said it's registered to someone named Vincent Massarani, 58, address down in White Plains. The driver's license photo doesn't look anything like the old fellow with the beard we saw."
Sable went back up to normal speed and headed further down the road, then turned aaround and ent back. "That was the only car parked near the house. I think now is when we should check the scene out."
"Funny to be acting in daylight," Timothy observed. "We usually attack in the middle of the night."
Pulling into the parking lot of the boarding house, Sable tapped her Link. "Frank can you get us the floor plan of this house?"
"I'm sending it to your Links now," the Trom's steady voice answered. "It is from when renovations were made in 2021, so there may have been some changes since then."
"Thank you. Stand by. If they run for it, you might be needed to track them."
"I am monitoring business security cameras and home front door cameras surrounding the target," he said. "There is sufficient input to work with."
"Good to know. Carry on." As Sable broke off, she raised one eyebrow at her teammates. "It'd be reassuring to have Frank on the scene, of course, but I think he serves our purposes better this way. For this case, at least."
In the rear, Jocelyn Garimara tapped the three leather satchels on the seat next to her. "In my opinion, we've come up with a better approach than force. When the three strongest living beings all get the snot punched out of them, you can scratch 'strength' off the options."
"Time for your friendly ghosts," Sable said.
"On their way." Timothy held out his upturned hands. Two of the faintly visible whirlwinds formed, five inches high and spinning quickly. They shot out through the partly opened car window and whooshed toward the boarding house.
Watching, Jocelyn Garimara bit back a remark about how lucky Tim was to still have his power. She was determined not to be a bitter drag of a person. She would get up after being knocked down, dust herself off and keep moving. She simply said, "This Sirion didn't pull a robbery last night. I guess the right barney with our Melgarin gave him plenty to think about."
"One death so far," Sable said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "That woman who was jogging. We can't wait for Unicorn to get back. I want this threat ended."
Leaning back, Tim had an unfocussed, faraway look in his eyes. "Only one person in the house right now. Up on the top floor, room in the North corner. There's a man lying on a ratty couch, reading a newspaper. He doesn't have white hair or a beard, though."
"Any evidence in sight?"
"Absolutely," Tim said. "A couple expensive cameras on the dresser, lots of jewelry lying out in the open. There's a small paper bag next to the couch, my caspers are poking into it.. Yep, it's bundles of twenty dollar bills..."
"Good enough," Jocelyn snorted, "If we were cops, we'd have probable cause."
Sable unbuckled her seat belt. "Everyone get their satchels strapped on and ready. Jocelyn, you're coming in with me. Tim, I want you behind the wheel and watching the area with your caspers. If you see Sirion, hit the silent alert on the Links."
They all got out, Timothy moving around the car to get in the driver's seat. Walking close by her captain, Jocelyn realized she had seldom seem Sable so grim.
( the rest of the story )
