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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

NED

Almost as one, there was a collective gasp from the audience.

Ned felt his jaw fall down in shock. The screen was supposed to have shown something to do with SF Metro's distinguished history, but instead, it showed a clear video of a dark figure standing enshrined in flames, lapping up around the figure, whose species and gender was impossible to identify. The person raised its arms like the priest of a demonic god, then pointed a finger direction out, as if straight at the crowd.

Mayor Wong's ears were twitching this way and that, and he was babbling at his staff. "What is this? Get rid of it?" he sputtered, encouraging the audience to "ignore this foul spam attack" but the crowd was oblivious to his jabbering, every pair of eyes fixed on the screen.

From out of the speakers a deeply mysterious, female voice spoke, loud and deep, filling the room: "People of San Fernando...how long have I waited for a proper introduction."

Garrett's paw tightened its hold on Ned's and he instinctively pulled the coyote closer.

"You may ask for my name. I have many names, but the one by which a few of you may know me is Medea, and that is the name I shall give here" the woman said, her voice seeming to fill the entire ballroom, as every guest froze, listening. "Why Medea, you may ask? Allow me to explain. Medea, the companion of Jason in Greek mythology, helped her hero upon his journey, but at its end she was cruelly betrayed, for which she took that most sweetest of pleasures: revenge. And that, dear citizens, is what I desire: revenge for all who have been betrayed. How can I do this, you may wonder? Look, gala guests, at the people on the stage before you. I see them myself, every false face." The screen began to blink through various photos of San Fernando's leaders: the Mayor, Captain Williston, DA Douglas, Judge Clay, and others, including those not from San Fernando, such as Senator McCracken. "These are the corrupt; the greedy; the selfish. They have fed you well on a diet of lies and treachery, but they will never rest in comfort again, because a new era is beginning for the city of San Fernando; one in which the weak rise and the strong fall. Look at my face, every one of you, and know fear. A new wind is rising, one which will topple the powerful from their pedestals; one which will blow in a new era of change. Is it not fitting that this is a city known for its acceptance of change?"

One could have heard a pin drop, as every person stared with muzzle open, aghast at this unexpected change to the night's events. "The Mayor may babble about his intentions to bring an end to organised crime, but let me tell you this, Mr Mayor - before my colleagues and I have finished with your city, crime will be everywhere, and you will be powerless to stop it. To my friends in the Underworld, remember, your time is coming."

The screen shifted to show two bent forms in a dark room, both head down. A blurry paw suddenly reached into the screen, forcing both to show their faces - a weasel and a jaguar. "To show the people of San Fernando how dedicated I am to changing their city, I have brought two guests to the show tonight. Would either of you gentlemen share your names?"

One of the prisoners, for that was what they were, mumbled something. "I'm afraid they cannot hear you" Medea said. "But never mind that. This man" the same blurry paw pointed at the weasel "is Anthony Heathcliff, who many of you may recognise. For those who do not, he is a defence attorney for the Frankfurt & Filton law firm. This man" the jaguar was indicated "is Juan Pez. Mr Pez was recently arrested for rape, but with the talented Mr Heathcliff on his case, he soon was released back into the world, without so much as a fine. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what passes for justice in your city.

"But I will show you what justice means to me. My colleagues Hermes and Circe will demonstrate:"

Ned had a horrible feeling of what was going to happen, something that all the people at the gala did not need to see, but he could do nothing, only watch as on the screen, a gun fired and the jaguar's head exploded. The lawyer, Heathcliff, screamed and started begging for his life, but midsentence he too burst into a spray of blood.

Instantly, screams of horror erupted throughout the audience. "Can't we turn that off?" Mayor Wong shrieked, amid the protests of his staff who'd been trying in vain to do so. The crowd was milling in shock, yet nonetheless they could not see to draw their eyes from the screen, where Medea's warning rose above all like the voice of God.

"Now you have been warned," the villain declared, once again visible as a shadow among flames. "Some of you may be worrying about some fool who calls himself a prophet. Know that he is but an ant compared to the colossal elephant of my power." She raised her arm again, pointing one finger outwards like the spectre Ghost of Christmas Past, forbidding and terrible. "Now, people of San Fernando. Look to your leaders, look to the police, but remember above all: I am coming. This is a declaration of war."

The screen went black.

Panic seemed to explode instantly, as every guest began talking, some of them moving towards the door, shocked by having just watched two men be ruthlessly executed, and by Medea's declaration of war. This was not merely a minor villain; she was someone who meant to terrorise the city or at least those in power therein. Ned glanced at Garrett, whose ears had fallen back. "You ok?"

"Yes" the coyote whispered shortly, eyes still toward the stage where Mayor Wong and his staff were shouting unnoticed at the crowd to calm down.

Most of the politicians seemed shocked, but Captain Williston eventually pushed the Mayor out of the way and bellowed in his deep voice "Everyone calm down!"

The crowd was still hysterical, and some of them were definitely on their way out, but the Captain's powerful presence did seem to quiet some of the voices. "Ladies and Gents" the Doberman said with what Ned had to admit was a very calm tone under the circumstances, "please stay calm. Everything is under control. What you just saw was nothin' but a terrorist attempt to ruin this fine event. You have my promise that we will be doin' everything in our power to discover who is responsible for this atrocity."

The guests quieted a bit more at that, but the gala was pretty much over; the Mayor's lame attempts to continue his speech met with an uninspired, agitated crowd, who were too upset and busy conversing among themselves to give him much of their attention. For his part, Ned found that the scents of several hundred anxious guests was stifling, and before long, he turned to Garrett. "Want to get out of here?"

"I think so" the coyote agreed, glancing doubtfully at the rest of the guests. "So much for a relaxed evening."

Getting out of the gala took a little more time than it would have otherwise, because some of the police had posted themselves at the doors to watch for suspicious characters, but Ned's SF Metro ID made it easy for he and Garrett to escape the madness, and soon enough they had stepped out and into the night.

"What a crazy evening" Garrett sighed, relaxing into Ned's arms as they strolled slowly away from the hotel. "I don't know who looked more shocked, your boss or the Mayor."

Ned almost chuckled at that. "I will admit, it was a little amusing getting to see the Mayor right when she started talking."

"His eyes were as big as...saucers, I guess. As a writer I should be able to think of something more creative though."

"Where'd you park your car?" they were into the parking lot now, which was spotted here and there with other guests who'd decided to flee the hysteria.

They ducked between two cars. "I told the valet to take it to the-"

Ned caught the sound of a fast-stepping paw on pavement just in time to instinctively pull himself and Garrett to the side. They hit the concrete roughly, tumbling over, just in time to avoid the swing of a crowbar.

Ned did not have his pistol on him - weapons had been prohibited at the gala - so he rolled away from the assailant, trying to pull Garrett after him, and shouting. What now, he thought. Cops were occasionally targeted by angry criminals, but more likely this person was merely a mugger who'd decided to find a couple of rich gala guests to rob. If he tackled the guy and called attention to the mugger, there was very little chance of harm.

Except that Garrett didn't follow him. Instead, the coyote rolled expertly as he hit the pavement, springing to his feet, and.....caught the attacker, which in the streetlight Ned could see was an ocelot, in the side with an excellent swing of his arm?

Fascinated, but afraid to tackle the guy without getting Garrett instead, Ned watched his boyfriend battle the mugger, if it could even be called that. Garrett was twisting and leaping and flipping, his paws and feet connecting with the ocelot everywhere, knocking the crowbar easily from his hands, doing a leaping flip so that his foot connected with the ocelot's head, sending him tumbling. Somewhere in the 30-second exchange, the crotch of Garrett's pants ripped from the extension of how he was stretching, and then the ocelot was on his feet and running, as concerned gala guests, attracted by Ned's shouts, came running up to see what was happening. Ned took off after the cat, but the guy moved like a ghost, leaping over car effortlessly and disappearing in the darkness beyond the parking lot.

"Let him go" Garrett panted, making Ned aware that the coyote had followed him. "You don't have a weapon and he can hide or ambush you easier in the darkness."

That was true, so Ned began to follow him back to the Ford, which they'd been about to when the ocelot had attacked. That had been startling and unnerving, no doubt, and had left Ned with pounding heart and bristled-up fur, but not so much as seeing the way Garrett had dealt with their attacker. The coyote had fought like a martial arts expert, every move flawless, so that the ocelot had been overpowered within seconds.

Ned asked him about that as the neared the Ford, more wary this time, assuring those attracted by the noise that all was well. "Where did you learn to fight like that?" He unlocked the car. "That was unbelievable."

Garrett flicked his tail. "I do all my own stunts, remember? In Hollywood, we get assigned our own trainers."

Ned wasn't sure he'd ever seen an actor before who could fight like that, but he did not say so. "For what it's worth...I'm impressed. I mean, I've taken self-defence classes of course, but not like....that."

The coyote smiled tensely. "I love having a tough cop boyfriend to look out for me, but it's good to be able to take care of myself too."

"Agreed" he still couldn't get over the way Garrett had dealt with the ocelot. "Probably some mugger."

"Probably" the coyote agreed unconvincingly.

They stood outside the truck for a moment, each silent. Garrett had been very quiet and seemingly introspective since the ocelot's attack, his fur still on end, and for his part, Ned was feeling...well, rather exhausted. It had been a tiring day, dealing with the truth of Olympia's identity, the continuing development of the Prophet case, and now, the gala, an tiring event normally, much less with video broadcasts by evil masterminds involved. Maybe what they needed then was to go home and relax a bit, with your lover?

"Would you like to go home together tonight?" Ned ventured. "I mean, it might help us unwind."

"What?" Garrett blinked. "Um, no, I'm afraid not tonight. I told Olympia I'd meet her afterwards."

Who comes first for you, your boyfriend or your...whatever she was? he thought, but since Garrett did seem tired and stressed out by the events, perhaps he just wanted to go home and rest. Which was understandable, so Ned agreed that they would part for the night.

Garrett still seemed tense when they kissed goodnight, but the kiss was as magical as ever, tongues in muzzles and paws on hips. "I've had a splendid evening, wolf" Garrett whispered, his yellow eyes glowing. "Don't let any bad guys sneak up on you, ok?"

"I'm good at avoiding that" Ned grinned, seeing Garrett return the smile, and then the coyote walked calmly off into the night, unperturbed by his ripped pants, leaving Ned to ponder what to make of all these developments. Olympia was Xang Lan, but did not intend to do anything about he and Scarlett's knowledge of that fact. Medea had declared war on San Fernando's powerful, and apparently had every intention of making life for SF Metro miserable. And now Garrett was shown to have abnormal skills at martial arts. Besides that, the Prophet was still running free somewhere, killing as he liked. All these unconnected pieces of his life, Ned thought, jumbled together into one singular existence. What could one do but proceed forward with the faith that it would all become clearer with time?