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Chapter -18- Course Corrected

4:10am PDT East San Francisco ...

** "Nathan!" **

Karla glanced around the empty warehouse. She balled her hands into fists and sighed.

Donovan restored the loose knot of his tie. He pulled his cufflinks from his pocket and attached them to his sleeve cuffs.

"He said he'd be here, Donovan. Where is he?"

Donovan panned his eyes from left to right. He turned about, looking all around the warehouse. He turned back to Karla and shook his head in silence.

"Yeah. Neither is Fox Parker for that matter." Karla's gaze lowered to dead bodies in black gear. "Just ... a lot of dead mercenaries. God, this place is a mess."

Donovan nodded in silence.

"I'm starting to get pissed off, Donnie. I mean, I'd be happy with left overs at this point, but ... I'm not even getting that. Look at the body count!"

"This will attract attention if left unattended."

"Not like the EC is around to clean up the mess."

"Yes, but we are, Karla."

"Fine." She waved her hand, teleporting the dead mercenaries three feet beneath the ground, under the concrete floor of the warehouse.

Donovan offered a nod of approval.

Karla reached for her cellphone and checked the time. "Okay. At nine, we're supposed to be on Nevada Street in west Sausalito. That's less than five hours from now. Nathan said we cannot be late."

"As honored as I am to stand with solidarity alongside your peers, I am only in this to find out what happened to the Esoteric Society. I want justice, not revenge, Karla." Donovan rubbed his forehead with tired eyes.

"You're such a mensch, darling."

"So much for sleep."

She nodded with a smile. "Aww, you have your work cut out for you." Karla waved her hand at another mercenary, teleporting him into the concrete beneath their feet. "From here on out, things get dangerous. So let's find you some coffee and breakfast to go, babe. We might actually find out how many mercenaries are under Falcon's employ."

"Not sure I like the sound of that." Donovan narrowed his gaze at a blood spatter pattern on the floor. "He had someone else fighting with him. Nathan Carrington, I mean. The Reaper doesn't splash blood like this."

Karla frowned. "He has a new sidekick? What the hell? Kalen wouldn't leave blood like this - he'd drink it. I wonder who it could be."

Donovan shook his head. "Regarding Nathan, has he spoken to an oracle?"

"Yeah," she said. "YiaYia, the cute little old Greek lady." Karla used a telekinetic blast to bowl over a group of boxes that were in her way. "She makes great desserts..."

"I knew, rightly so, when he released you into my custody, at the jewelry store, I was going to be in over my head forthwith."

"Oh, there you go - whenever you get just a little upset, you jump right back to that archaic talk. Well, at least you're not speaking old English. Last thing I'd want to hear is you spouting, 'Nu sculon herigean heofonrices weard.' So... I'll take what I can get."

Donovan eyed her for a moment then a smirk crossed his face. "Is that ... Cædmon's Hymn?"

She offered a wry grin in reply and nodded. "I keep forgetting you were born in England. So you were an educated Anglo-Saxon man. Good for you." As an afterthought, she added, "Don't sing it."

"I wouldn't dare," he told her. "You wouldn't wish to hear me carry a tune. And besides, I have no reason to 'praise the guardian of the kingdom of heaven.'"

"The English language has evolved from lazy tongues, thankfully."

"'Twas ere thy time. As well as my own."

"I wonder if Nathan's new sidekick is cute."

Donovan sighed. "Stop changing the subject. Did YiaYia tell Nathan Carrington what we should expect?"

"Well, um..." Karla licked her lips and turned to face the last silver van in the warehouse. "Nathan talked to her, not me. What he told me was a little over-the-top. I was afraid if I gave you all the juicy gossip, you might back out."

"Details, Karla. Speak straightaway."

"Well, YiaYia told him that shit gets real in Sausalito. A small airplane will be crashing in a field where Nevada Street meets Rodeo Avenue. Nathan said the first to arrive would be a local fire department that is near to the crash site. You and I have to be there before those guys arrive. Then he said we're going to have to protect the first responders from the mercenaries who will want to seize artifacts from the plane."

"Dear God, how long do we have to protect the crash site?"

"Until some FBI guy shows up. Nathanial says the guy is going to help us on the Q.T., because the old man saved his life last night around dusk - or as you might say, 'eventide.'"

Donovan sighed.

Karla shrugged. "He also said I'm supposed to find some stupid relic. It will look like an emerald about the size of my thumb. Nathan said we can't let Falcon get it."

Donovan turned to face Karla, listening to her.

"Nathan was pretty adamant about that part. He said, even if we mess up everything else,_ _we _must _keep the green stone away from Falcon's men. Then he went on a tangent about how Falcon would be unstoppable if he gets it. Nathan isn't one for rambling the way I do, so it must be serious."

"What will Nathanial be doing?"

"Searching for the green rock in a different place, I guess. I've never heard him mention it until the other day."

"Hmm." Donovan followed a blood smear on the floor. At the end of the trail, behind a van, was a puddle of blood.

Leaned up against the front tire was the body of a mercenary. The hired soldier appeared to have had his throat ripped open by teeth.

Karla walked by, behind Donovan. She waved her hand.

The dead mercenary disappeared, as did most of the blood, leaving only a slight discoloration on the concrete.

Donovan glanced back at the succubus. "Your friend doesn't tear out men's throats. I wonder who did that? Surely not Mr. Carrington."

Karla shrugged. "If the old man is working with someone, he didn't tell me. I don't know what's going on."

"Did Nathan say anything else to you?"

"Just that we're going to be searching a plane crash and holding the site as best we can."

Donovan replied with an incredulous expression. "Searching through shipping containers, and cleaning up dead mercenaries. And now securing a future plane wreck? It's never a dull moment with you."

Karla put her hands up defensively. "Nathan will be using Falcon's men to take down their own air plane due west of the Sausalito. I'm not sure how, but that's what he said. The old man also told me that it's a possibility, if he couldn't find Sinopa's object at the ship, or here at this warehouse, that the Japanese artifact might be on the plane. If so, I should bring it to her out at the Vortac Tower. She'll be meeting Nathan out there around nine in the morning, so..."

"I shouldn't have had drinks with the two of you. I function best when I'm well rested."

"I'm sure we'll be fine."

"I'm supposed to be keeping you safe, and now I have to worry about Ms. Crevan and Mr. Carrington as well."

Karla shrugged. "You're such an old chauvinist."

"Say what you like, Karla. You're still drunk. My role is to keep you safe, which is why you asked me to attend you. I will watch your back as requested, but I also feel the need to watch over Ms. Crevan and Mr. Carrington as best as I am able."

"I'm already sobering up. Besides, hon, with Sinopa in the area, I'm sure Nathan will be safe. They'll look out for one another. Besides, I can get us over there in a flash, babe."

"Very well. But we're_not_ teleporting all the way to Sausalito."

Karla scoffed. "Why not?"

"You almost made me sick when you took me to Millbrae, via teleportation, two weeks ago. We're driving. Rather, I will drive."

"How macho." Karla looked around the remains of the warehouse and shook her head. "I hate cleaning up after a party, especially when it's one I couldn't attend. I'm kinda' hoping Falcon's mercenaries show up if the plane really does crash like Nathan thinks."

Donovan glared at her.

"What? I'm getting antsy. I've missed three kickass battles in a row. First, those losers attacked Johann when his plane landed an hour before mine. Then the rumble at Pier-80 a few hours ago ... and now I missed this huge rumble, here at the warehouse. I'm itching to throw people around."

"If the plane crash prophecy comes true, we'll be fighting in broad daylight." Donovan sighed. "I'll do my best to hide your actions with my shadows. But it isn't easy in broad daylight."

"Oh, Donovan, you're badass. I've seen you use a shadow during the day before."

"A brief lesson for you Karla: A 'lumen' is a unit to measure the brightness of light. A 'lux' is one lumen per square meter of space. A candle is roughly twelve lumens. You saw me struggle when using shadows to create a wall between us and several flame throwers."

"So?"

He sighed and shook his head. "The sun, on a cloudless day, is greater than one hundred thousand lux. Creating a wall to hide your war against human mercenaries is far more difficult than you realize."

"Guess we should get espresso with your coffee, then. I'll treat. And relax! I'm sure there will be trees or something to help." She offered a hint of a smile.

"Trees," he said with a scoff.

"Trees, babe. And as a bonus, that will give you lots of places to pull shadows from." Karla finished hiding the last of the bodies beneath the concrete ground.

Donovan remained silent.

Karla hooked a thumb back towards the last van in the warehouse near the north rolling-door. "Jonathan Parker once taught me how to hotwire one of these things. Let's see how good I am, and hope they left us a full tank of gas. And yes, Donovan, you can drive, dear."

X

X

Meanwhile... US101 Northbound ...

** "This was a good idea how?"** Rufus shouted from the driver's seat of a silver van. He cringed at the sharp sound of a gunshot from behind the vehicle.

"You wanna save the world, biscuit breath?" Nathan called up to the front of the van. "I've been waiting my whole damn life for 2023! Now I'm gonna do whatever it takes!"

With the windows down, Rufus's long dark hair whipped about in the wind. Back in his human form, he wore only boxer shorts and a tattered t-shirt. "I'mma be late for my flight, y'ole goon! And now I need t' find some flippin' pants 'afore my flight!"

Nathan clung to a gear strap at the back of the silver van. "God, shaddap, fleabag! Just drop me off where I told you, then you can take this van all the way to ... what airport you flyin' out of, again?

"Oakland! Now you know why I'm in a hurry!"

The old man laughed. He kept his right hand up, creating an energy field to shield the back of the van from stray rounds. "Yeah, well, take that briefcase with you! Maybe Falcon's people won't know it's empty!"

"You're nuts, old timer. You almost remind me of my sister."

"Who, Peri Lynn?"

Rufus glared back at Nathan. "You knew Peri?"

"Eyes on the road, Rue!"

Darken begrudgingly gazed forward. "How do you know her?"

"I met her in 1999. You know she became a werewolf right?"

Rue sighed and tightened his hands on the wheel. "I'd heard a rumor. I heard she died fighting."

"Goddamn right she did," Nathan called up. He tensed his forearm, keeping the field strong to ward off more gunshots. "Peri died a warrior. She saved lives - she died so that others could go home. That's what war is - saving lives."

"What do you mean, war?"

"You don't think the supernatural community really just disappeared over night, do you, Rufus?! It took decades of planning, and multiple attempts! If I had the chance to do things over, I would have gone to Australia and found you back in 1999. I'd have brought you back to help."

"Yeah, well, God don't give mulligans, old man. At least not like that." Rue switched the headlights to the high beam setting.

Nathan switched the field from his left hand to his right, from aching joints. "You don't think anyone will notice, at this hour, that you're driving a van with no doors on the back, right?"

"I blame you fer letting the damn doors get shot off, you old fart! Yeah, someone's bound to notice!"

Nathan retracted the shield long enough to throw a glob of plasma electricity. He reinstated the field. "I got a plan, so you won't be noticed, just keep your pants..." Nathan glanced back up at Rufus and smirked. "Well, I'll have to get you some pants to keep on, huh?"

"Not sure if I like where this conversation is goin'! I ain't into old farts like you, brother!"

The plasma connected with the road, in front of the pursuing van. The energy globe erupted, leaving a crater in the asphalt.

The pursuing van slammed into it and blew its front tires. The second vehicle swerved wildly.

Nathan shouted in trumph. "HAH! That's right! You'll take it and like it!"

"You get'em?"

The old man hollered back up to Rufus, "Hell yeah I did! How much further till we get to the Vortac tower?"

"Not long! Why am I dropping you off there, anyhow? That don't make any sense! It's in the middle of nowhere!"

"Cause, flea-brain! They're using the Vortac tower west of Sausalito to coordinate a shipment that's flying in on a private plane from Japan!"

"Why would they use a cargo ship and a plane?"

"To confuse people searching for the cargo!" Nathan shouted back over the roar of the wind. "At nine in the morning, that flight will be passing over that tower. I'm going to lure those guys out there, where they'll try and fight me using an EMP device."

"Shit! Is that what we saw on the back of that truck at the warehouse?"

"Yeah, Rue. That was it. It'll weaken me but it won't kill me. But! It'll wipe out the tower and the plane! When that plane crashes, Karla and Donovan will be the first on scene! They'll steal artifacts coming from over the Pacific. Karla will keep it from the guy who is behind all this crap!"

"C'mon, man, you're holding back on me, old timer!"

"Listen, dog-breath; see if you can wrap your brain around this," Nathan said, watching as the pursuing van fell behind further.

"I'm listening just fine. You're the one mumbling because it's so far past your bed time."

Nathan laughed. He climbed up to the front.

The cargo van headed towards the Golden Gate Bridge, looming in the fog up ahead.

Nathanial strapped himself into the passenger seat. "I got a plan. Don't worry, Rufus, you'll make it to Oakland. I'll give you some cash to use. Look..."

"Ayup ... just like I thought. You're stalling."

"Yeah."

"If you want me involved in a war that killed my sister, you're going to need to have a little faith in me. Be honest with me, brother."

Nathan shifted his weight in the passenger seat. He ran his hands up through his short grey hair. "Keep this between us."

"A'ite. Lay it on me, hoss."

Nathan frowned. "It's hard to explain. Long story short, some people are born with abilities. Others are given their ability, second hand. Think of it like a device that gets passed on, similar to a family heirloom. Then it takes a while to manifest in the host."

"And you were given your ability to pass on?"

Nathan shrugged. "That's not important. What I'm getting at is ... there are a few abilities out there that have been passed down. God knows where they came from; there's a lot of speculation about how it works."

"Go on."

Nathan sighed.

"Don't get all fidgety on me, now. Out with it."

Nathan shook his head with another sigh. "There's an object on that plane and Falcon wants it. According to my source, if Falcon gets his hands on this thing, he becomes unstoppable. So I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that plane crashes. I want Karla to find it first."

"And yer buddy, Karla, is trustworthy? What happens if she gets this artifact?"

Nathan rolled up the passenger window. "If Karla gets it ... I'll die happy. Despite popular belief, Falcon _can _be killed. But if he gets his hands on that stupid rock, Falcon will be too difficult to handle."

"Who are you, old man?"

Nathan chuckled. "I already told you - I'm The Reaper. Nathan Carrington, team leader for the Four Horsemen of the Esoteric Council. But I retired, so now I'm just an old man."

"How long have you known about this stupid stone?"

"Since my late twenties. But it was safely buried until last week. Now it's time to make my move."

"You only get one chance."

"I know. I'm trusting Karla to find it. I'm the bait. I'm too much of traditional guy to use a woman as bait, so I'm doing it myself."

"It's because you're old, ain't it?"

"Actually, yeah."

"I was joking."

Nathan shrugged. "I'm not. I've not got much longer. I've only got one more fight in me, you know?"

"This ain't no Western, cowboy."

"Doesn't mean I can't go out in a blaze of glory," Nathan said. "Just ... hurry and get me out to that tower, then you can go. I'll hold the position until nine, when that small jet crosses overhead. I'll bring it down, giving Karla access to it. That's the plan."

"You act like you know where it's gunna crash, son. You's really sure your friend will get there first?"

"Yeah, I do know where it's going to crash. It's going to go down near US101. Karla will be in position and see it crash. If it doesn't land exactly where I told her to be, she'll teleport accordingly and find that object first."

"Jesus. How you know all this shit again?"

"I know oracles, man." Nathan shifted his weight due to pain his lower back and hips. "Karla will protect the crash site from any mercenaries that go out there to recover anything."

"It's not fair of you to put all that shit on her. She needs backup. I'll fly out another time. Let me go and help her."

"You have to get your tail to South Africa. You have your own part to play, Rue. But you have a detour in Ireland. You can't miss that."

"You're the second person to say I can't miss Ireland."

"I understand it's important to getting over the death of your sister."

Rue grimaced. "Sore subject, old man."

"Man up and see your family. Then get your tail to Africa. It's important - way more important than staying here and fighting my battle for me."

"It ain't just about you, man. You're not being fair to your friend."

"Karla will have backup," Nathan said with a firm tone. "Plus, I know what she's capable of."

"You got a backup plan?"

Nathan nodded. "I have a human FBI agent named Philip Michener who is going to arrive and lock down the scene. He's going to have the agency treat it as a crime scene, alongside the NTSB."

"You got a friend in the FBI? I thought the EC frowned on that sort of thing?"

Nathan shrugged with a measure of indifference. "They did, but they're gone. Michener owes me for saving his ass the other night. I approached him and filled him in on the plan. I showed him what I can do, and he's onboard with my plan."

"I see, now." Rue glanced down at his cellphone screen, sitting in the cup holder. The GPS application was open on the screen. "We don't have much longer. You sure you're gunna be a'ite?"

"I'll be fine. I was in Siberia in 1908."

"You fought in the Esoteric Civil War?"

"I ended it," Nathan boasted with a smirk. "Needless to say, compared to that, today will be a walk in the park. You have a flight to catch, so ... once I get on the other side of the bridge, I'll go the rest of the way alone."

"Say what?! That's a long way for an old man by foot."

"Not for someone who travels on a lightning bolt. Just drop me off on the other side of the bridge, and head back towards Oakland. Alright?"

"Aw hell ... a'ite. Am I gunna see you again?" asked Rufus.

Nathan frowned. "Maybe. Depends on how things play out, but it's not very likely." He glanced out the passenger-side window and stared at the Golden Gate Bridge. "I remember when they built this."

"Don't go getting all soft on me, now."

Nathan shook his head with a slight grin. "Yeah..." He cleared his throat. "So far, I'm at two strikes and two outs with the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth, trailing by three runs. If I don't hit this grand-slam, then I'm on the bench for the rest of my career."

"Game ain't over if you at least get a base hit, son. Then it's up to the rest of your team. Don't be so hard on yourself."

Nathan grinned back at Rufus. "I take that all back - you'll see me again."

"Will I?"

"Yeah, trust me. You'll see me again."

Rue grinned back. "Good. So, will I get to meet your lady friend?"

Nathan glanced back to the window. "Eventually. You can trust me on that, too."

"A'ite. For some reason, I believe ya'."

"Good." They approached the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge. "I've got it from here. You can drop me off at Lime Point, then get your tail to Oakland and catch that flight."

"You's absolutely sure you don't need me? I can always catch another..."

"I've got this." Nathan glanced out the window towards Alcatraz Island, but couldn't see it through the early morning fog. "I bet Muir Beach had a beautiful sunset last night."

"What? What's Muir Beach?"

Nathan shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind. It's just a nice place to see a sunset, that's all."

"Don't you go dyin' on me."

"I told you, Rufus - you'll see me again. I'm just musing at random because I'm old. I've earned the right to say things that don't always make sense to anyone else. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good. Slow down. Right here is fine."

Rue slow the van just before the exit ramp for the Sausalito Lateral. He eased onto the side of US101, right before the off-ramp. "Why do I get an ominous feeling from you, Nathanial?"

"Because you smell ketones," Nathan said with a chuckle. "I'm old. My body is coming apart at the seams. I'm diabetic. Funny, though, my folks weren't diabetic. That's why I got that fruity smell to my breath. I chew Juicy Fruit and nobody notices."

"Yer breath smells like acetone to me," Rufus said. "I have a bad feeling I ain't gonna see you again."

"I told you, Rue, you_will_ see me again. Now get your tail to Oakland. Don't miss that flight, you got it?"

"I still need pants. They don't let you on airplanes without pants."

Nathan laughed and snapped his fingers. "That's right. Now I remember why I had you drop me here." He pointed to the exit ramp. "Take the Lateral, go beneath US101, and stop at the parking lot for the Golden Gate Recreational Area."

"I'm listening."

"There will be a white van there. It says, 'Parker's Plumbing' on the side. It's a bullshit name. Jonathan uses it for jobs. Anyhow, I've made arrangements. It will be in the lot waiting for you. The keys are in a magnetic box under the front left fender."

"You want me to leave this van there?"

"Yeah, Rue. Leave this van there. The new van has a briefcase with some cash. There will be a duffle bag with clothes for you. Pants, shirt, a belt, fresh socks and nice shoes. I hope you like pinstripe. You'll look sharp in black and purple."

"Jesus, seriously?"

"Yup. Leave Parker's van at the airport in Oakland. He knows to pick it up."

"You knew all this stuff was going to happen?"

"To a degree, yeah. I told you. I know oracles. Now, get moving. Talk to who-ever it is that you meet in Ireland. It's supposed to be important. Don't puss out."

"Thanks, old man."

Nathan grinned and shut the passenger door. He waved and walked away from the van. A flash of brilliant lightning reached into the sky.

The old man vanished in a brilliant flash, followed by a crack of deafening thunder.

Rue sighed through his nose and pulled off the exit. He took the underpass around to the parking lot, across the highway from the Golden Gate National Recreational Center.

The white van with, "Parker's Plumbing" freshly painted on the side was waiting at the far corner of the lot.

Rufus made the switch to the new van. He dressed himself in the black suit with purple pinstripe and the surprisingly comfortable dress shoes.

He opened the briefcase. Inside, he found four thousand dollars and letter.

Rue opened the letter from Nathan. It read, 'Here's a sketch of that power core. This is what it'll look like. Make sure it goes to Steve Milford, got it Flea-Brain? And yes, you'll see me again. Don't be such a softie.'

Rue climbed into the driver's seat of the fake plumbing van, made his way back onto US101 towards the Golden Gate Bridge, and took the new van back through San Francisco.

On the other side of the bridge, Rufus drove west towards Oakland.

X

X

September 16, 8:47am PDT Several hundred feet south of the Sausalito Vortac Tower ...

** "Dis guy think he THOR or somethin'?"**

Jules glanced at Sinopa. He cut his gaze back towards the elderly man down in the field.

Sinopa said nothing. She pursed her lips together with a frown.

"Darlin, are you sure he don't need our help?" Jules removed the keys from the ignition of his rental car.

Sinopa fidgeted nervously, watching the old man fight a group of mercenaries down in the field near the large sombrero-shaped tower.

"Chère...?"

Sinopa sighed and shook her head. "He should not be fighting. He is too old and too frail," she murmured. Sinopa turned to Jules and added, "Nathan is too proud to allow help." She narrowed her gaze, squinting at several flashes of lightning near the tower.

Out in the field, Nathaniel Carrington held his hand aloft, surrounded by soldier-like people wearing black uniforms.

One of the soldiers, peering down the iron sights of his rifle, said, "You're done, old man."

The elderly man smirked. "Bullshit. Do you know who I am?"

"I know enough," said the mercenary.

Nathan laughed. "I just whipped your boys' asses at the Airport twelve hours ago. Then I whipped more of your boys' asses around three in the morning when I leveled that warehouse. I'm ready to go for a hat trick."

The lead soldier advanced cautiously, keeping his weapon trained forward. "This is your last fight."

"Yeah?" Nathan grinned. "Well, I've been saving it for you, jackass." With a grimace of joint pain, Nathaniel moved towards the advancing mercenary team.

A bolt of lightning appeared in Nathan's right palm, curved like a sickle. It glowed and crackled, superheating the air around it.

The lead mercenary reached for his radio. He shouted into the receiver. "Sierra, Sierra, Tango, Niner, Delta! We have confirmation on the primary target - The Reaper. He's alive!"

Nathan drew his hand back and swung hard. The scythe of pure energy diced through the body of the closest attacker.

The mercenary's torso opened and his legs buckled.

Nathan pivoted less-than-gracefully and backhanded another attacker, cleanly removing the mercenary's head.

Up on the hill, Sinopa's eyes narrowed, squinting at the brilliance of the lightning scythe. "Dear me," she murmured. "I ... I see no blood."

"Something like lightning," Jules whispered, "that'd cauterize a wound instantly." Jules watched in awe as the seemingly feeble old man continued to dice through multiple attackers.

Sinopa and Jules saw a truck come from the opposite end of the field at a high rate of speed. A cloud of dust billowed up behind it.

Down by the tower, Nathaniel turned towards the incoming pickup truck. He recognized it as the pickup he saw back at the San Francisco warehouse earlier in the evening.

Nathan extended his free hand. A brilliant flash of lightning lanced from his palm and struck the metallic truck frame.

The truck's motor shorted; the wheels blew out, turning to a sticky rubber sludge.

Gunshots rang out in the distance. A flash of domed light surrounded the old man.

From up on the hill, Jules rubbed his chin. "Dayum. He's got himself an electric force field. That's impressive."

Down in the clearing, the field flashed again as more rounds glanced off the surface of Nathan's protective field.

Up on the hill in the rental car, Jules turned to Sinopa. "I see now why yer pal would wanna' deal with this stuff alone. Seems like he might work well without having to worry about protectin' others."

"Mm, agreed." Sinopa stepped out of the rental car and moved around front of it. Her lengthy red locks of hair danced in the breeze. She folded her arms across her chest with a frown. Sinopa tilted her head a bit and asked, "What is that?"

"I dunno," Jules replied.

Down on the dusty field, two mercenaries pulled an object off the bed of the pickup truck. One of the gunmen attended to a control panel on the side of the device.

A small cargo jet came from a cloud to the west, headed east. Jules looked up and blinked. "A Dassault Falcon cargo jet? That's an old-ass French dinosaur."

A flash emanated from the device.

Up on the ridge, both Jules and Sinopa shielded their faces.

Jules put the keys into the ignition and turned it but nothing happened. "He's gunna need our help. That was a chemical explosive reaction, chère. And..." Jules trailed off. He turned the key again. "Oh hell, that was an EMP."

Both Jules and Snipa lifted their eyes down to the other end of the field.

The small cargo jet's exhaust trail ended but the jet continued east, towards Sausalito. It began to lose altitude.

Jules swore softly in French, adding, "That is not good. That plane lost power, too. Cell phones'll be dead; can't call anyone for help."

Jules and Sinopa's eyes lowered to the tower at the center of the field - the remaining three mercenaries leapt upon the old man, overpowering him.

Jules flung open his door and sprinted down the hill.

Sinopa levitated just above the ground and dashed alongside him, towards the truck and the people up ahead.

One of the mercenaries looked up and moved to intercept Jules.

The retired aviator pilot dove forward, wrists crossed, and bowled over the soldier.

The other two mercenaries came to their feet and moved to intercept Sinopa Crevan.

She found herself between the two men. They grasped at her arms. The one her left pushed a gun to her head. "STOP!"

Jules sat up, his left hand around a mercenary's throat, his right hand drawn back in a fist.

Everyone froze, glancing up at the shout.

Jules eyes met with the gunman adjacent to Sinopa.

Jules glanced back down at the man in his grasp. His eyes lifted to the two men holding his girlfriend at gunpoint.

She smirked, looking relaxed. "Your weapon - while amusing to me - would be better off holstered. Step aside, I wish to attend to my friend."

"She might be one of them," said one mercenary to the other.

"Yeah," replied the gunman. He cocked the hammer on his pistol for effect. "Don't you do a goddamn thing. Don't move, don't do shit. You got it? You want to be the next to die?"

Crevan tightened her jaw. "I hope, for your sake, that your words are figurative. If my friend is dead, so too will the rest of you join him."

"Woman, you are gonna join him if you don't shut up." Without warning the gunman threw his weapon to the ground. He favored his hands.

The abandoned pistol began firing repeatedly, towards the west.

"She's one of them!"

The gun continued to fire, cooking off round after round.

The mercenary to Sinopa's right pulled his weapon. Before he could put it to her head, however, his black uniform ignited in a brilliant flame.

The attacker screamed and dropped to the ground, rolling about. Flames engulfed him, growing brighter and hotter.

The screams faded. The area was filled with the strong smell of grilled meat, along with the stench of burning plastic, fabric and hair.

The first gunman withdrew a knife, dashed towards Jules and put the blade to the pilot's throat. "STOP OR I WILL KILL HIM!"

The other attacker, closest to Jules, reached for his own combat knife.

Sinopa made a backhand motion. A flash of light raced through the gap between where she stood and Jules lay. The bright round object split into two and collided with both men.

The two attackers' uniforms caught fire. Both men dropped to the ground and rolled in the dirt.

Jules got to his feet with a look of astonishment. "Sierra-Hotel darlin'! Did you just throw a fireball tha' hit both'a them at the same time?"

She replied with a simple nod.

"Holy hell, I..." He turned back to Sinopa, jaw agape. "I'm jealous. I'm right jealous, chère. Don't kill'em, though. We may need answers."

"I suppose that would be wise." She closed her hands into fists, remotely quashing the flames.

The two men lay side by side. Their body armor smoldered, exposed through the burnt cloth of their black uniforms. Both men were alive, suffering only first and second-degree burns.

Sinopa hurried over to Nathaniel. She brought her hand to her lips and froze.

Jules hurried over to her and knelt by the old man. He touched the man's neck to check for a pulse. "Need some space." Jules ripped open Nathan's shirt and began CPR.

Sinopa turned back to the two men on the ground. She pursed her lips in anger and approached them. "Why did you do this?"

"We're paid to take down targets," said one of the mercenaries. "He was a target. We don't know anything else."

She ground her teeth together. "You knew what kind of technology to use against him. You know more than you are telling me. Lie again and I will..." She trailed off with a smirk. "What is the term?" She narrowed her eyes. "I will flame broil you. Now talk."

"Aris Falcon," said the other.

The first one made a fist and raised it towards his coworker.

Sinopa waved her hand and a rush of flames raced over the attacker's body like a mix between napalm and molten lava.

The remaining mercenary sat up and scooted away quickly, eyes wide. "That's all I know, I swear! The guy who hires us is named Aris Falcon. I've never met'em, I don't know where he is, and I don't even know how to trace the money back to him."

Sinopa leered at the man with disgust in her eyes.

"Lady, please, don't kill me like that. If you're going to do it, then make it quick and clean. Do it with a bullet."

"I am not a killer. I am not like you," she said. "You will need medical attention but your wounds do not seem terribly serious. It appears our vehicle is no longer operative. Nor yours. You will have to walk to a hospital."

The mercenary got to his feet and began walking. "To hell with this job, I quit. I ... look, thank you for not killing me. I'm sorry about your friend, lady. We were told to use an EMP to faze him. I'm really sorry."

"Keep going," Sinopa snapped.

The sole surviving mercenary continued walking. His left hand moved to his right shoulder, where the collar of his uniform had disintegrated. "I swear I'm quitting today. I'm leaving town, I swear to Christ. This shit is too dangerous anyway."

"I suggest leaving the country," Sinopa said. She turned back towards Jules and knelt adjacent to him with a frown. "Can you save him?"

"Even if their truck had an AED, the EMP would have killed its batteries," Jules murmured. He went back to his CPR training.

Silence.

After another moment, Jules sat up and sighed. "CPR ain't any good, chère." He traced his hands over the old man's joints and immediately stopped at Nathanial's collarbone. "Dammit. I should'a checked that first, m'amour."

The kitsune drew her lower lip between her teeth. "What?"

"Yer friend gotta' broken neck. Ain't nothin' we cin do for'em. I am ... truly sorry, Sinopa." Jules shifted his weight back, sitting on his feet. "Dammit."

All at once, the old man's eyes fluttered open.

Nathan's pupils appeared nonexistent. His eyes glowed as if animated in a Hollywood movie.

Jules, startled, got to his feet quickly.

Nathanial looked up at Sinopa and offered a weak smile. "Crevan," he said in a raspy voice. "I don't ... I don't have long..."

Sinopa dropped to her knees adjacent to the old man and cradled his head gently into her lap. "Nathan-sama, I thought you were dead."

"I don't have long, Sinopa. I wish you didn't have to see me like this..."

"Your neck..."

"I know. I can't feel anything." He drew a slow, calm breath. "I've healed from worse, but I'm tired. I'm old." He sighed softly. "I'm wearing my wedding ring around my neck. Put it on my left hand for me."

Sinopa nodded. She reached down, beneath Nathan's head and withdrew his necklace. She took the wedding band off the chain and slid it onto his frail left ring finger.

The ring slid off.

She wrapped the necklace around the bottom of the shank and slid the wedding band back onto his finger. It stayed in place.

"Thank you."

"Hai, it was my honor."

"I need another favor from you."

Sinopa nodded firmly. "Yes, of course."

"Now you seen what Falcon is capable of. He's killing supernaturals and hunting the handful of immortals hiding around the globe. He's gathering all the relics. He's hunting for the Japanese artifact, too."

"There are more artifacts?" she asked.

"It would take too long to explain. If it's not too late, I want you to hunt for Jonathan Conner Parker Junior, the thief, and he will explain it. Keep his children alive. They'll help you. Trust me."

"Jonathan Parker..." She frowned. "His name sounds familiar."

"Yeah. I know. It's complicated. Anyway, do you still have the business card you got from Inspector Reno Nevada?"

"I ... how did you know about that," she whispered in reply.

"Trust me, I know about it. Find a way to contact him. Do _not_let anyone near my body until he's seen me first."

Sinopa tilted her head in confusion.

"Supernaturals aren't even allowed to exist anymore - he's a homicide inspector, and he can cover this up - he's seen your ability, Sinopa; we can trust him ... but only him. Don't let anyone touch my body until he sees me first. Promise me."

"Hai ... you have my word, Nathanial-sama."

"Save yer strength," said Jules. "We can't move you. You've got a broken neck. But if you can just hold on a little longer, I'll hoof it east, into town and..."

"It's too late," Nathan told them. "I'm old. I'm done. I did what I came out here to do, and now I understand why things happened the way they did." Nathan's eyes shifted to a locket that hung from Sinopa's neck. "I never noticed that, before. It's beautiful."

"Hai. Jules bought it for me last year, on White Day," she said softly. Sinopa turned to her boyfriend and said, "Jules, hurry. Find whoever you can." She pulled the business card from a satchel and gave it to the Cajun. "Do not accept 'no' for an answer. It has to be this Inspector, no one else. Tell him it is an emergency for me - 'the woman who saved him from the gunmen by burning their hands.' Inspector Nevada will remember. Now hurry."

"Hang in there, Mister C." Jules took the card and broke into a hard run, headed east on a dusty road labeled 'Bobcat Trail.'

Meanwhile, Nathanial closed his tired eyes and sighed softly. "I can feel it ... it's close."

Sinopa frowned.

Nathan's eyes fluttered open again, still glowing and solid white in nature. "Neck is healing," he murmured.

Sinopa looked down at his fingers. They curled. "Perhaps you will not die."

"I'm old. Healing is hard on the body. Injured or not, I wouldn't have lasted much longer anyhow." He rubbed his thumb against the underside of his wedding ring and smiled weakly. "I hope I get to see my wife."

"I understand your time together was far too short."

"Damn right it was. But if reincarnation is a thing, I never found her again."

"Oh, Nathan. Go to her."

He reached up, weak and frail, and put his fingers on another chain that hung from her neck. He pulled her Hoshi no Tama from its hiding spot under her kimono and gazed upon the glowing white ball of swirling orange stars. "I tried so hard to change everything."

"How do you mean?"

"I found out how things play out. I wanted to change history. I made a few changes. A few things happened differently. I just hope it's enough."

"Nathan ... tell me. I promise I will protect your secret."

"Falcon gets his hands on this little green stone. After that, he's unstoppable. I crash the plane hoping to destroy the stone but Falcon's men retrieved it. Millions die. The east coast of America is destroyed in 2025, the last of the supernaturals die in 2049, and the world ends in 2060."

"What did you do differently after you learned of the prediction?"

"I told Karla to be ready, so she could get the green stone when the plane crashes. I made a lot of changes, but a lot of stuff still happened. But if Karla gets that stone before Falcon's men ... then we have a chance to beat him."

"What do you mean 'a lot of stuff still happened,' Nathan?"

"Despite a lot of the changes I made, the world course-corrected. And here I am, dying in this field just like I saw it the first time."

"How did it end in the prediction you witnessed?"

"Falcon thinks he's saving the world, but his actions trigger the deaths of millions of people. He's focused; motivated. I changed every detail I could, but everything still happened. You cannot let Falcon win this ... I fought so hard."

She nodded with a frown.

Nathan's eyes started to dim.

The kitsune's lower lip trembled. She held his head gently on her lap. "Nathanial-sama ... I hope you will find happiness and peace when you cross over; I hope you travel to the land of your faith. It was truly my honor to know you."

"I just want to see Kerii Mae." Nathanial Carrington shut his eyes. His eyelids glowed briefly. They dimmed.

His nostrils flared with his final breath.

Silence.

In a reverent tone, she said, "Your faith held in life takes your soul to its final destination in death. Whether it is Yomi-no-Kuni, the fields of Neorxnawang, Valhalla, Gan-Eden, Heaven, Hell, or Hades, it is my belief that you will travel to a plane sustained by the faith of the believer. I will say a prayer for you, Nathanial-sama." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "You are the reason I believed humanity is worth saving. If there is even one more person in the world like you, then Earth is worth my blood, sweat, and tears."

Nathan's heart offered its final beat.

"Godspeed my friend." She leaned down and whispered to him in Japanese. Sinopa brought his hands over his chest, so that his wedding ring was closer to his heart.

Nathan was silent.

X

X

9:17am PDT A clearing in Sausalito, California ...

** Donovan Loupe ** tensed his forearm. A tendril of darkness engulfed a patch of fire, cutting oxygen to the crates strewn across the broken fuselage.

Karla waved her hand, teleporting patches of fire outside to the dirt, where it fizzled out. In doing so, it cut oxygen to the remaining flames, inside the plane crash.

She put her foot up on a crate and climbed over a tree branch that jutted in from the port side. Karla wiggled her petite frame over wreckage to the other side.

Donovan cleared his throat. "Use the utmost care, please, Karla."

"There are a few back here. I'm pretty sure this is the last of'em." She slithered between the airframe and tree branch. "You like the view back there?"

Donovan briefly glanced up, able to see a hint of hunter-green panties beneath the hem of her skirt. His eyes cut back to the cargo containers at his feet. He sighed with a shake of his head. "Yes, Karla."

"If you're trying to placate me, that wasn't very convincing," she replied with a chuckle.

Donovan turned away and held his breath. He stood at the edge of the broken airframe, able to see the cockpit in the distance. He heard faint voices on the wind. "We have company." He glanced frontward, where the cockpit was missing from the plane crash.

The cockpit section sat in a field away from the rest of the wreckage. The back of the plane was snagged in trees, supported high in the air, away from prying eyes.

"I can't hear anything back here," she said. "The frame is creaking from my weight."

"It appears the fire department has found this section of the plane. I assume they've secured the cockpit out in the clearing. I see men in bunker gear coming towards the trees."

"I haven't found it yet," Karla said. "Any sign of mercenaries?"

"Thankfully, I don't see any." Loupe glanced back at the succubus, still able to see her dark green undergarment beneath her skirt. "Tight fit?"

"It's tighter than I am modest," she called back to him from the back of the fuselage. "But the wreckage is too cluttered back here to teleport myself - I'm going to start going through the crates that I can see."

"Understood. Do it before they arrive." He crossed his arms over his chest, gazing down at the swaying tree below, which supported the plane.

One of the tree branches made a cracking sound.

"The sooner the better. The branches can't support the weight of those cargo containers much longer."

"Let alone the plane." Karla squinted in the dim cargo area. "I need a flashlight or something. The smell of jet fuel is awful. Glad this thing was running on fumes when it crashed." She slipped through a gap, creating an unceremonious crashing noise.

Donovan grimaced. He expected the tree to give, but it didn't. He squinted back into the dark tail of the plane but couldn't see her in the body anymore.

A second later, she called back to him. "That sucked. I'm good, though. Thanks for asking."

Donovan frowned. "You didn't give me time to ask." He turned back towards the field. I see more men in bunker gear. You're running out of time before they see us." He waved his hands, creating a tint of gloom at the ripped opening of the plane. "They won't be able to see in until they get much closer. Please hurry."

The succubus telekinetically supercharged her fist and ripped the top off of a crate that survived the impact intact. She rifled through packing filler and pulled out an ornate metallic box.

She gave the object a shake.

"Karla, be quick. They're almost here."

She brought the box to her ear and murmured, "All the weight is on one side of the box, but it doesn't rattle..."

He moved closer to the crash site, just beneath the opening of the plane. "Karla?"

She climbed back up through the broken airframe and knelt down below a branch that jutted through the metal fuselage. "Grab this."

Donovan turned back towards her.

She passed a small box through a gap in the branch. Donovan took it from her.

"Hold this one off to the side. I'll figure out how to open it later."

"Understood."

Karla went back to rummaging through the back of the plane.

A gunshot sounded in the distance.

Donovan saw the firefighters duck down and put their hands up over their heads. Another gunshot pierced the air from back in the direction of the field, on the other side of the tree line.

"Well ... our day has just grown more interesting forthwith."

"What in the world," Karla murmured. She pulled out a marble kabuki mask and held it above the shipping crate. "Damn, this thing is heavy. Wonder how much this crap is worth?" She brought the weighty mask up to her eyes. Nothing happened.

"Karla, hurry."

She heaved the mask back into the crate, reached for another small box, and opened its lid. "Whoa. Is this a terracotta pot? Hey, Donnie, I think I found one of those Leyden Jars, or maybe a Baghdad Battery. I thought it was disproven that these could be used properly for gold plating as their main function?" She stuffed it back into its box.

She moved to another crate, which was broken on the side. She rummaged through the contents and said, "Another one of those pots with the metal top. This one didn't survive the crash, though. Hey wait a sec..."

Gunshots rang out again, coming from out in the clearing.

"Karla, they're firing on the fire department."

"Yeah? I thought you were all about following the code of secrecy? You suggesting we use our powers to kick some ass?"

"They're defenseless."

"You didn't answer my question - are you suggesting we use our powers to kick some ass?"

Donovan sighed. "What if I was?"

The succubus smiled. "I'd be glad you're finally growing a pair of balls. One sec, I found something interesting." She pulled another container out from the bottom of the broken crate.

The box was cardboard and filled with Styrofoam and plastic air cushion padding.

A stray bullet struck the fuselage; another thudded against a tree trunk that supported the back section of the plane.

Karla heard Donovan grumbling but ignored him. She picked apart the packing fluff and found a large green polished stone in a plastic baggie. "Oh, jackpot!"

"You found it?"

"I think so." She passed it through the gap to Donovan. "Hey, jewelry guy, is that a real emerald?"

He glanced back out at field. "The firefighters have retreated." Donovan moved to the edge of the broken airframe tube. "They look panicked."

"Just look at this thing, will ya'?" She held the baggie through a gap in the branch that penetrated the airframe. "Grab this."

Donovan reached back and took the baggie from her. He eased the polished green stone free from the bag and ran his thumb over the side.

"Well?"

He held it in his palm and turned it over. "It's beautiful. But it's far too heavy to be an emerald. Good color and clarity but something this small shouldn't weigh several pounds. It's too dense to be natural."

Donovan reached his left hand up to Karla. He helped her through the gap in the tree branch.

Karla climbed over the branch and got to her feet. She smoothed her skirt down.

"Put us on the ground."

"Sure."

They reappeared on the ground, beneath the plane suspended in the trees.

She reached for the brilliant green gemstone in Donovan's right hand.

"It fits the description Nathanial mentioned to you."

She nodded in agreement. "It's the color of my eyes. I couldn't really tell just how pretty it was back there in the dark. It's gorgeous." She closed her hand around it protectively. "You're right. It's pretty darn heavy for its size."

Donovan glanced over his shoulder. "They're going to see us. Maybe the ground wasn't such a good idea after all."

Karla teleported both of them back up into the airframe. The added weight of both caused the wreckage to lower several feet.

"We're causing the bough to bow."

"Hmph."

She grimaced. "Well, at least we have an extra minute to figure things out before they get over here."

"We may have to defend this position."

Her palm and forearm incandescenced with a brilliant pink hue. Her arm tightened up and her fingers clamped over the gem.

"Put it back in the bag. It's time to leave."

She winced, unable to open her hand. "I ... I can't. I can't let it go," she murmured in an uncharacteristically weak voice. She grimaced. "Donovan, I can't teleport it out of my hand, either." Her forearm tensed up and her knuckles turned white. "I ... this is ... it's really starting to hurt. I can't let it go," she repeated.

Her eyes moistened. A tear ran down her left cheek. "Donovan ... I'm feeling sick to my stomach and my ... my arm hurts. My hand." She pursed her lips.

Donovan tilted his head, studying her expression. He reached for her hand and tried to help her pry her fingers open but they were clenched in a tight fist.

Her eyes lifted to his, glistening in the daylight, which filtered in through a hole in the airframe. "I don't understand." Her chest heaved, breathing heavily in fear.

Donovan saw blood dribbling from her fingertips. He tried to pry her fist open again, but her grip was too strong. "You're going to break your fingers, Karla..."

Despite his warning, as if in contradiction, the green gemstone cracked at the core.

"What was that noise? Was that one of your bones?"

"No, I don't think so. I think it was the stone."

The stronger she clamped down, the more the fissure grew until it reached the surface of the stone.

The gem shattered.

Karla cried out in pain. Jagged shards of green cut into her palm and fingers. Blood trickled down her wrist, and dripped over the front of her blouse and skirt.

The glowing pink glyphs in her palm grew brighter, illuminating the interior of the plane wreckage. Karla bit her lower lip; tears streamed down her cheeks. "Hurts," she muttered, adding, "I'm scared shitless, Donovan."

"I could try to break your fingers."

"Do it," she said.

He applied force to her fingers, prying them open somewhat, but not enough for her to release the small stone.

"Stop worrying about hurting me," she said. "Just do what it takes to get rid of this thing."

Donovan tensed up, peeling back one of her fingers. He tried to pluck a green fragment from her palm but it was too slick with her blood, and didn't budge.

The more he tried, the more the gem sank into her skin until it was inside her hand, leaving a lump. "Karla, we have to get you to a hospital."

The trees holding the rear section of the plane gave out. The fuselage dropped two stories and slammed into the ground on its side.

Donovan sat up on his hip with a soft groan.

Sunlight filtered in where the tree branch had pierced the fuselage earlier, leaving only a hole. He checked his joints. Satisfied he was uninjured, he rolled over to find Karla unconscious, face down.

Donovan checked her neck, shoulders, arms and legs for injury. Satisfied nothing major appeared broken, he rolled her onto her back.

Silence.

He pulled her head into his lap and reached for her injured left hand. "Karla?"

She didn't respond.

"I'll get you out of here. Just..." He froze, feeling something against the back of his head. Donovan glanced over his shoulder at a gun barrel level with his face.

A masked mercenary said, "You're not slinking out of here this time, shadow man."

X

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