The Honda ST-1100 sped towards the closing steel shutters, wobbling slightly under
the one-handed control of its rider, it suddenly turned sideways as Angel began to
lay the bike down too slip past the falling steel door. As the bike touched ground,
its plastic engine covers began to shred, leaving the bare metal innards to send
showers of sparks off the concrete floor of the garage. With a few feet to spare
the bike slid under the steel shutter and onto the street beyond.
"Stop it there Owen."
The monitor turned dark blue as Owen stopped the security recording. Turning his
leather office chair to face Elisa, Xanatos asked;
"He slips past you, calls his gang, than takes you and my wife hostage, takes the
elevator down to the garage, steals one of my favorite motorcycles, and escapes the
most heavily secured private residence in the word?"
"Shut up Xanatos."
"I was just making sure I've got it right, that's all." Xanatos raised an eyebrow,
"I can't help but notice the usual venomous glare you sent me is a little worse than
usual, any particular reason?"
Slamming a fist into Xanatos' jet-black desk Elisa shouted at Xanatos,
"Why the hell did you stop me from putting an APB out on that bike! Who knows what
that outlaw bastard and his little friends are up to?" A dry chuckle from Xanatos
silenced her tirade.
"Detective, you seem too have forgotten that you are not dealing with your typical
motorcycle hoodlum here. More than a few questions would have arisen from the
arrest of an outlaw biker with wings and a tail, and more would have arisen form the
fact that he was riding a stolen Honda registered to a man accused by the Quarrymen
of sheltering a clan of gargoyles."
Her anger deflated, Elisa sank back into her chair.
"Why the hell didn't you say that before I made an ass out of myself?"
Xanatos waited a moment before answering.
"Because it wouldn't be as fun as seeing you make an ass out of yourself."
Luckily for Xanatos the sun began too slip below the horizon before Elisa could
decide which of his bones too break,
"Detective, perhaps you would like too greet Goliath and give him the new?" Owen
asked form the corner of the office.
Letting out a wordless snarl, Elisa stormed out of the office.
Looking at his employer Owen dryly asked,
"Sir, might I suggest Russian roulette as a safer way too toy with death?"
In the castle courtyard, Elisa watched as the clan burst from their stone shells in
a symphony of crashes, yawns, and screams.
Spotting Elisa, Goliath glided form the tower and landed next to his beloved,
enfolding her with his wings.
"What is the news, Elisa?"
"Well…"
"I say we just go out and kill half a dozen of these little Quarrymen fuckers, then
blow town," Animal declared, crossing his hairy forearms and leaning against the
corrugated metal wall, he dared anyone to come up with a better idea.
"That's fucking brilliant man! We just go out, kill six people, than roll on down
the road!" Skagg mocked form the seat of his parked motorcycle.
"Fuck you man! You just gonna let them get away with tryin' to kill the Chief and
Tramp?" Another Viking yelled from the rear of the throng of outlaws gathered
around
the row of parked Harleys that lined the right wall of the abandoned warhouse.
"Did I fucking say that?" Skagg demanded as he searched the crowd of biker's for the
one who had doubted his commitment to the outlaw's code of vengeance.
"All of you shot the fuck up." Angel ordered from the stack of dust covered crates
he was sitting on, "Here's what would happen if we went with Animals idea." Angel
explained, his voice betraying no hint of emotion, "We go out, shoot a few of these
hammer boys, maybe beat a few to death, and than we leave town. A month or three
months or a year later, when the cops finally get around to checking things out,
they'll probably figure out it was us. But we won't be here. So what the cops will
do is arrest about twenty or thirty members from some club or another, put together
enough evidence to bullshit their way to a trial, then they'll see how many they can
put in the slammer for the rest of their lives." Angel hopped down from the crates
and landed with a loud thud on the battered stone floor of the warehouse. "So what I
think we should do is just go out, find a few of them, pound the livin' crap out of
'em and call it even."
"Then what?"
"Shit I don't know…hell, why don't we just stick around here for now?"
The Vikingz all looked confused. They had expected a return home to their old
stomping grounds after the business with Quarrymen ha been sorted out.
"Shit man, I've had more fun since we showed up in this city then I've had in years.
I say we stay." even the Vikingz still wearing the casts and bandages from the
injuries Demona had inflicted had too nod at that.
"Sounds cool to me Chief, 'sides, you an' me ain't goin' nowhere without any
bikes."
Angel shrugged.
"We'll worry about that later, right now I want everybody to dump their guns back in
the truck and get ready too move."
The band of Vikingz began depositing their weapons back in the bed of the clubs
truck when a pair of late arriving bikers pulled into the hideout. As they parked
their bikes, Smalls, the enormous Vikingz sergeant at arms stormed towards them.
"Where've you two fucks been? Huh?"
"Whoa easy man we didn't know where to find you guys…" Basky began to protest,
"We were out pulling a job, things got a bit dicey, so it took us awhile too find
you guys okay?" Gothic said, while dismounting his red and black chopper.
Smalls grunted before turning and looking around the warehouse for Angel. Spotting
him he shouted; "Hey chief!"
Angel turned and saw Smalls standing with the two late arrivals and walked over.
"Yeah?"
"They say that little deal of theirs went crazy."
Angel glowered.
"You said that nothing could go wrong."
"That's what I thought Chief! Except when we got there the buyers just went nuts!"
Gothic explained what had happened the night before at the Sinners Paradise.
Angel grinned at the description of the two lunatics the pair had run into in the
back office.
"Yep, this town gets more interesting by the minute." Angel started too walk away,
but turned around abruptly, "By the way you guys get too stay here and watch the
truck. Next time you better catch up faster."
Basky let out a long breath of relief when it was clear that was the only punishment
they were going too receive.
"Man, I thought the chief was gonna be PISSED."
Gothic let out a snort of laughter.
"He's havin' a good time! But you know who's gonna be real pissed off?"
"Who?"
"That idiot back at the club, when he figures out we sold him a bag full of blue
M&Ms."
Basky broke into a fit of laughter that was drowned by the roar of the Vikingz bikes
as they left their sanctuary to go wreak havoc on the fools who had seen fit too
cross them
"But Goliath…" Elisa protested,
"No, Elisa. That's final, you ask too much! My clan will not protect those bent on
our destruction!"
"But that outlaw bastard and his gang will be looking for revenge on the Quarrymen
for last nights attacks! Who knows what their going to do!"
"Don't pull the tigers tail unless your ready for his teeth." Brooklyn said,
earning a glare from Goliath and Elisa. A bit put out, Brooklyn hopped down from
the wall walk where
Elisa and Goliath were arguing and walked too the TV room. Walking in, he found Lex
playing on the computer while Hudson watched TV.
"What's up Brooklyn?" Lex said, without looking away from the computer screen.
"Not much…it's just Elisa thinks we should go out and protect the Quarrymen."
"WHAT?!" Lex exclaimed, and whipped his head around, "Why?"
"No doubt she thinks th' young lad and his friends will be out for blood tonight."
Hudson said, "That how these "biker" types operate, an eye for and eye." A
reminiscent smile spread across his face. "Reminds me of the old days."
"How'd you know that the bikers would be out for revenge?" Brooklyn asked.
"What? Oh…I saw somethin' on th' History Channel a while back about th' Hells
Angels.
I don't see any reason for our friends too act any different."
Brooklyn opened his mouth too say something, Goliath and Elisa walked in, apparently
they had resolved their dispute. By the looks on their faces, neither one was happy
with the results.
"When you're out on patrol tonight, you might come across some of these 'Vikingz'
battling the Quarrymen." Goliath paused and looked around, "Where are Broadway and
Angela?" Hudson and Lexington shrugged while Brooklyn suddenly looked moody.
"Ah." Goliath said, before carrying on, "When you find them please tell them what I
am about too tell you…If you see the Quarrymen and the Vikingz going at it, I want
you too intercede if it seems that innocents are endangered."
"But otherwise…" Hudson asked.
"Our presence would only make things worse; we could turn a crowd of bystanders into
a mob without warning."
"But father, the Vikingz could kill someone!" Angela said from the doorway where she
and Broadway had been standing.
"I'm sorry my daughter but I will not put my clan in danger to safeguard those who
would destroy it." Goliath said in a somber tone.
Angela seemed too want too say more, but she held her tongue.
"All of you be careful tonight-I want too see you all here in the morning."
With that the clan began too break down into patrol units and take off into the
night.
By luck of the draw, Hudson and Brooklyn were paired together.
"What's on your mind laddie?" Hudson asked, as the pair glided towards the Brooklyn
Bridge. Brooklyn looked at him and sighed.
"I think its great that Goliath and Elisa are together but…" Brooklyn hesitated.
"Go on. Finish what ye started lad."
"How can she want us to protect the Quarrymen? She knows damn well they want us all
dead! Probably her included if they knew she was with Goliath!"
Hudson looked at the youngster with a look of sorrowful amusement.
"What?" Brooklyn demanded.
"So if Goliath had said 'sit back and watch these people be slaughtered' ye' would
have been perfectly happy?"
"They wouldn't be slaughtered! The Quarrymen have a fucking arsenal, bedsides those
crazy hammers they've got tons of guns, lasers and attack helicopters!"
"Aye, they do. But you saw that lad who was in here the other night. The way he
carried himself, even hopped up on speed he looked like a fighter. His lads'l only
be more of the same. You think a pack of school teachers and housewives playing
special ops could stand up to them?"
Brooklyn looked at the ground.
"I guess not."
"Besides lad, Elisa took a vow too protect this city and everyone in it. That
includes scum like the Quarrymen." when Brooklyn nodded, Hudson continued, "And you
took a vow to do the same lad."
Brooklyn looked at him and nodded again.
"So anyway," Brooklyn said, changing the subject, "What do you think about our new
acquaintance?"
"If your talkin' about the lad who busted out of the hospital ward, to tell you the
truth he seems an okay sort."
"Huh?" Brooklyn had thought any gargoyle who so blatantly denied almost every
tradition of his race would rise the old timers hackle's.
"Oh aye, he's a bit strange, and I don't appreciate his punching out Broadway, but
he seems to just be a guy who 'does his own thing', as they say nowadays," Hudson
paused,
"And the word choice in his clubs name leaves a bit too be desired." Hudson turned
too Brooklyn, "And what do you think lad?"
"I don't know. I'm not too fond of these outlaw biker types after what that one
pack of bastards did too my bike…but I never expected too find a gargoyle riding
with an outlaw club!" Before Hudson could reply, he spotted a small gathering of
Quarrymen walking down loitering on a street corner. And a block away, a pair of
chopped Harley Davidson's idled at stop light.
Trying not to observe the gathering of Quarrymen too obviously, Det and Animal
searched for a hidden place too park their bikes while they phoned Angel.
After pulling into a dark alley, Animal pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and
began dialing. After explaining where they were to Angel, Animal hung up and the
pair started to wait for the cavalry. Fifteen minutes later, two cars pulled up down
the street from the Quarrymen. Angel, Smalls, Tramp, and six other Vikingz piled
out, each one armed to the teeth with baseball bats, crowbars, chains, pipes, brass
knuckles, and leather saps.
Angel advanced in the forefront, his motorcycle drive chin in one hand, brass
knuckles on the other.
When the Quarrymen saw the crowd of bikers coming towards them, one, a former member
of the Pagans motorcycle gang, identified the revenge party for what it was, saw the
deadly intent in the eyes of the Vikingz, and ran as fast as he could the other
way.
He was promptly followed by several of his more quick thinking and self perseverance
minded comrades. The other twelve or so were either too scared or too stupid too
follow.
When they were within a few feet of the Quarrymen, the Vikingz stopped short.
"Who's in charge here?" Angel growled.
The apparent leader of the Quarrymen was shoved out of the crowd and towards Angel.
"W…we…don't…want any tr…trouble." he stammered.
Angel suddenly uncapped his wings and flared them above his head.
"What about now?"
"Monster!" the Quarrymen shouted with a mixture of fear and hatred, the Quarrymen
tried too raise his hammer, but he didn't get far. Whipping his chain around the
Quarrymen's neck, Angel grabbed the far end in his other hand, and used it as
leverage to help drive the Quarrymens face into a savage head the pack of
Quarrymen watched their leader sink to the ground, the Vikingz let loose a savage
yell and waded into the mass of blue hooded stormtroopers.
On a nearby rooftop, Brooklyn and Hudson watched the brawl unfold. The Quarrymen
never stood a chance. One caught a baseball bat too the side of the head and
another too the pit of the stomach, folding like a matchbook, he fell to the ground
spitting blood. Another, brought to his knees by a shot from a pair of brass
knuckles, was slammed head first into the side of a parked car, which added the wail
of its alarm, too the screams and shouts of the brawlers. A Quarrymen tried to pull a
pistol from under his jacket, but was cut short when Angel lifted him up by his head
and shook him like a rat before tossing him onto the unyielding asphalt of the
street. At this point, only four Quarrymen remained on their feet. One made a
desperate charge at the Vikingz, with a fully charged hammer, only to be driven to
the ground and knocked out.
While the outlaws seemed to be preoccupied with stomping their suicidal comrade, the
other three Quarrymen bolted down a nearby alley, hoping to loose their pursuers in
the dark maze that ran behind the buildings of New York City.
They didn't get far.
A razor wire topped fence loomed out of the dark, stopping them dead.
They turned to find Angel at the head of a phalanx of Vikingz striding towards them,
One of the Quarrymen began shouting, begging the uncaring world for help, the shouts
identified her as a woman despite her hood and bulky uniform.
"Shut up bitch!" one of the other Quarrymen ordered, "If I'm about to get my ass
beat the last thing I want too here is some woman begging for mercy!"
"Leave her alone!" the third Quarrymen, by the sound of her voice another woman,
shouted.
Before the second quarrymen could say anything, a pair of dark shapes leapt off a
rooftop and landed between the oncoming Vikingz and the hysterical Quarrymen.
"I think you lads already got these sods good enough, aye?" Hudson said.
The Vikingz stopped short when the Gargoyles landed. Angel crossed his arms and
glowered. Brooklyn pointed to the cowering Quarrymen behind him, the big loudmouth
frozen in place, one woman sobbing quietly while the other tried to reassure her.
"Are these ones even worth the effort?"
"Hey!" protested loudmouth.
"Bob, for the love of god shut the fuck up!" hissed the woman reassuring her
friend.
Angel suddenly cracked a grin.
"Got a point there, Red." he turned to his fellow Vikingz, "Whaddaya say boys, wanna
call it a night?"
The bikers shrugged, a few nodded, and angel turned back to the two gargoyles.
"Looks like it's your lucky night boys."
Brooklyn started too bristle at the comment, but Hudson stopped him.
"Aye maybe it is."
Angel and a few of the Vikingz laughed.
"All right man. Be seeing you around." As the Vikingz walked out of the alley, Angel
turned around too face the Gargoyles.
"Hey! We'll probably be celebratin' tomorrow night if we ain't in jail! You should
stop by our place if you want!"
"Aye and where is it you'll be throwing this wee bash?"
Angel either didn't here or didn't answer, and walked out onto the street and hopped
in one of the cars he and his Vikingz had pulled up in.
Brooklyn and Hudson looked at each other and shrugged, then began too climb the wall
of one of the buildings that lined the street. While they were climbing, the
conscientious
Quarrywoman left her friends side and shouted to get the gargoyles attention.
"Hey!" when the gargoyles turned to look at her, she shrank back slightly,
"I,uh,wanted to thank you…"
Brooklyn and Hudson looked at each other.
"No problem." Brooklyn said.
"Maybe next time someone like us show up in this city you can think of something
better too do about it than join the Nazis." Hudson added
"uh, yeah. Sorry I guess."
"No problem." Brooklyn repeated, before he and Hudson disappeared over the edge of
the building and onto the roof.
"What the fuck was that!" Bob shouted "I swear too…" he was silenced by a well aimed
brick thrown from the rooftop.
"Hey!" the Quarry woman shouted, "I wanted to do that!"
"Sorry!" Brooklyn shouted, "couldn't help it!"
Back at the castle, just before daylight, as the clan climbed to the towers
crenellations,
Hudson turned too Brooklyn,
"So lad are ye goin' to go out and try and find that Viking lads party tomorrow
night?"
"Are you kidding?"
"Didn't answer the question lad, are ye or aren't ye?"
Brooklyn shrugged.
"Fuck it. Why not?"
The rising sun froze the grins on his and Hudson's faces.
Across town John Castaway, stared coldly at the police report in front of him.
Nine more of his followers were in the hospital. That number was added to the ten
put there the night before, as well as the loss of a helicopter. His organization
could easily absorb the loss of men and equipment, but the blow too its prestige was
irreversible.
Already the papers were asking; "how can the mighty Quarrymen stand up to the
gargoyles if they can't beat a few bikers?" Something had too be done, and done
quickly, for his organization too persevere.