Chapter 8

Agent Boyer had been frantic until the call came through. She had commandeered the local police helicopters for visual assistance in the search, but they’d had no luck – whatever Sterling was doing hid her from visual searches as well as neutralizing her radio beacon and the wolf’s empathic sense. "Where'd that call come from?"

The tech finished backtracking it. "Portsmouth, not too far from the I-664 bridge. A cellphone call uplinked by tower PR-175-A, phone’s registered to an Alice Johnson. Her address matches that area."

Boyer nodded and turned back to her phone link to the police headquarters. "Chief, can you send a helo down to Portsmouth, near the bridge? I think we've located our missing -" She was cut off by a worried reply.

"Not now, ma'am. We're going to need all our assets to try to deal with these fires. I don't care if you are a Fed, your missing Changeling will have to find her own way home. We've got a real emergency on our hands here."

"Let it go, Carol, " the wolf urged. "The crisis is past now, Sterling's thinking again. She'll head back as soon as she can."

Gabrelli burst into the room. "Ms. Boyer, we've got the beacon back. Sterling is moving more or less back toward the base, but she keeps stopping. I don't understand what she's doing."

Boyer and Lowe both jumped up. "Doesn't matter what she's doing, " the agent said. "We can meet her on the way. Let's roll out, people."

* * *

Sterling headed for the next fire she could see. This would be the twelfth, or maybe the twentieth... she'd lost all track a while back. The rain was working, none of the fires were spreading, and the emergency crews were starting to make some headway, but there were still too many fires and so she had appointed herself a one-woman rescue squad. Fortunately, most of the people living in the burning buildings had managed to get themselves out, but twice more now she'd had to go in, once for a baby and the second time to rescue an elderly woman whom she'd literally had to drag to safety. Poor thing. I don't know if she was more scared of bats or of heights. She was wet and cold and getting exhausted from flying through the rain, and she'd collected a whole catalog of bruises, cuts and burns - and somehow it all felt good. She coasted in toward the crowd, spilling air and touching down on the roof of a panel truck. "Is everyone out?"

It wasn't until that moment that she realized that something was different in this crowd. No hysteria, no worry, just nervous energy – and this building had the doors to its basement barricaded. As people turned, she recognized one of them from a tape she'd seen two weeks before. "Fletcher?! What idiot let you out of jail?"

"There are no people inside there, demon. Now begone from here, we do the Lord's work this night!" The man brandished a cross at her and advanced, even as the nearer members of the crowd cowered away from her, believing his statement and worried about what a demon might do. "Flee, or be destroyed by the Cross of our Lord Jesus!"

Sterling stared at him in astonishment as he approached. "Fletcher, you're a complete lunatic." She stood, reaching under her tunic as his followers watched the tableaux, eagerly awaiting the demise of this foolhardy 'demon.' Fletcher advanced, making a production of it, apparently actually believing that his cross would drive her away. "You honestly believe what you're saying, don't you?"

"Your foul master cannot save you from the truth, demon!"

Sterling pulled her own cross out from under her tunic by the chain that fastened it around her neck. "MY master, Fletcher, is the Son of God." The crowd rumbled in shock and dismay as she let the cross hang outside her uniform shirt. She turned to them as the preacher gaped in astonishment. "Think about what you are doing! God said on Sinai, 'Thou shalt not murder.' And His Son told a crowd -- JUST LIKE THIS ONE -- Let he who is without sin cast the first stone!" She paused for effect, as a pair of vehicles turned a corner four blocks away and sped down the street. "Now I will ask you again. Is anyone still in that building?" The crowd stirred, melting away at the edges, the nearest people to the truck unable to meet her eyes. Finally, a voice, faint to human ears but clear to hers, said "Just the critter locked in the cellar..."

She turned back to the preacher in cold rage when she heard that admission. "Is this how you preach the love of God, Fletcher? You DARE call yourself a minister?" She held his gaze as the two vans screeched to a halt and the agents piled out, covering the crowd while Franks vaulted onto the truck to protect her charge.

The bat swept the crowd with eyes that reflected the fire beyond them. "And you - you all followed this lunatic? Without even thinking about how his ideas conflicted with those of the Bible he claimed to preach? What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??" She paused again, waiting as faces began to change in dismay and fear. "Don't just stand there, then!" she shouted, pointing toward the burning house. "GET HIM OUT OF THERE!" The crowd broke, some running toward the house to remove the barriers blocking the doors, others just running to get away. Fletcher stood there in shock until they put the cuffs on him.

"Very nice, Commander," Franks grumbled. "Now can we please get you out of danger?"

Sterling sagged in exhaustion as the adrenaline reaction to the confrontation took its toll on top of the flying she’d already done. "I'll be down in a minute. I want to see who I've rescued." She listened to the echoes from the back of the burning building as the rescue party pulled the barricades away from the doors and a snarling roar sent the remnants of the mob scattering. "A lion, by the sound of it. I suspect it's a good thing that you brought Lowe along to talk to him; he might have tried to take down a human agent after being locked in there by that mob."

The agents came back around the side of the building, flanking Lt. Lowe and a huge maned feline. The two Changelings were locked in discussion , though the lion glared around suspiciously at the humans every so often. "....so that's what we're doing, Leonard. We run it ourselves, with help from the military of course, but pretty much with a free hand. Eventually we'll figure out what we can do and be reassigned, but by that time most of this nonsense should have died down. The Draft Act isn't really being enforced, not yet, but it's going to be sooner or later - and you'll be better off if you're already in place. Plus, it's a lot safer. We're important to national security now and the Feds aren't about to let anything happen to us.” She paused. “Well, nothing unnecessary, at least. Fletcher will probably be spending some time in Leavenworth now. He was out on bail from the first time he did something like this. I don't think they'll let him out again."

"They'd better not," rumbled the lion in a bass purr. "If they do, I'm going to hunt him down myself." He lazily flexed his fingers, unsheathing a set of three-inch claws on pawhands the size of dinner plates. He turned to look at the bat as they walked up to her perch. The lion stood almost 9 feet high, tall enough to look the bat in the eye as she sat on top of the vehicle. "The wolf tells me you got the crowd to back off." He regarded her carefully. "I think I'm impressed, a little thing like you doing that when they'd worked themselves up enough to attack me. How'd you manage it?"

Sterling shrugged and stretched her wings out before replying. "Psychology. I didn't react the way they expected. They were so convinced I was a demon that they just fell apart when I showed them I was a Christian. You probably roared and threatened them, which was exactly what they expected you to do. Right?"

The lion nodded thoughtfully. "Right. And I didn't really want to kill them. Not at first, anyway." He straightened up, apparently coming to a decision. "Count me in, then. Sounds like you have this thing figured out. Besides, I owe you one." He reached up and delicately took the hand that Sterling offered in return. "Leonard Durant."

* * *

The coatl stirred on his throne, regarding the coyote-morph sternly. “You need to improve your aim, Rico. You didn’t even come close to the fuel depot for their Navy.” The coyote bowed, almost whining in his apology. “I’m sorry, Jefe. I did the best I could. It was too far away.” The feathered snake nodded. “Still, you gave the Yanquis something to think about. Their leader hides behind an adept, but he cannot protect his followers that way. The Empire will live again. The next lesson, I think, should go to the usurpers in Tenochtitlan. Rest for now.”

* * *

The dragon hissed in frustration. “Again he does this? Not only vicious, but a vicious fool. The Americans have the usual number of potential Immortals, and this sort of thing will unite them all against him. And the machines have not yet died. If he continues this path, he may find that out first hand.”