Blood Wind - Chapter 13
One more chapter to go before this thing can grind to a halt. Was going to make this the last one but, it was getting too long again and, besides, I must have a twisted need to torture you poor people. Saving a little more angst and blood for the last chapter. Don't hate me, or at least don't hate me enough to cause me pain. I'm a big chicken that way. I won't even eat hot peppers. I have no interest in food that hurts me.
Disclaimer: Followed the instructions in that creepy reference book. Lit all those candles; sacrificed two lawyers, an annoyingly perky aerobics instructor and a telemarketer . . . and they're still not mine! Darn.
*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*
The Angel and the Jaguar
Lisbon ended the call with Ortega. She blew her hair out of her eyes with an exasperated puff.
The 405 was at a dead stop. The red glow of tail lights stretched as far as they could see before them. Almost a continuous glow, it looked like one of those rope lights people string up at Christmas.
To make things even worse, the air-conditioning in the rental car had conked out. Cho felt the sweat rolling down the back of his neck as he put the window back up.
He had a choice: they could either suffocate in the heat with the windows up or die of carbon monoxide poisoning from the hundreds of idling engines in this Godforsaken, barely mobile, parking lot.
They'd only moved about twenty feet in the last hour. He hated L.A.
"We're not even going to Parker Center, we're going to stake-out one of the stairways at Elysian Park. Jane thinks that's where Apizaco is going to take the baby.
"Where? Do we even know how to get there?" asked Cho, wishing Jane was here to tell them which taco-stand to turn at.
"Elysian Park, it's about twenty-five miles from here."
"May as well be on the moon." said her 2IC sourly, "We're never going to get out of this traffic jam."
"Don't be so pessimistic." said Lisbon. Though she was trying to sound positive, her voice seemed lacking confidence in their, eventual, escape from gridlock. A few minutes ago, their borrowed police radio advised of a gasoline tanker fire a couple of exits north of where they sat.
Ahead of them, in the distance, suddenly rose a huge fireball. A thick column of smoke billowed into the already molten sky as the flames lit it from below.
This is what hell must look like, thought Lisbon, at least maybe one imagined by Fellini.
Their borrowed radio crackled with the report of a tanker truck exploding under an overpass ahead. Fire department and HAZMAT were already on scene.
In the next lane, someone in an impossibly shiny black mustang cranked up the volume to absolute tooth-rattling level. The angry and profane words of a currently popular rapper blasted into the exhaust filled air.
"Great," muttered Cho "Now I really am in hell."
...
The moonlight was bright enough to make the landscape a crisply contrasted photo; shadows deep black with well-defined edges bordering the blue/white objects that cast them.
Picking his way across the hillside wasn't particularly easy; especially while carrying something fragile and, at the same time, trying to keep himself from tumbling down the steep incline. He was glad he'd done a dry run last week in the daylight; staying silent as bushes and brush clawed at his bare skin.
His nana's old trick had worked. The baby slept peacefully thanks to the small amount of whiskey he'd added to the last bottle of formula. He knew people would be horrified but it was the only way to keep his tiny charge from giving them away if they were being watched. After all, his mother and probably his abuelita (little grandmother) herself had survived it.
Using the credit card was a stupid thing to do but, there was no other way. The baby needed to eat and letting him remain wrapped in the soiled towel just wasn't right.
He stifled a curse when a needle sharp thorn bit into his bare thigh. The hillside was covered in chaparral, manzanita and barberry. He slowed his ascent. Even though his pain could be of no consequence now, he concentrated on trying to recognize and avoid the more malevolent foliage around him. He was almost there.
The baby slept on.
...
The detective's earpiece crackled. There was something going on at one of the stairways to the east of them. Someone had been spotted picking their way through the brush on the hillside.
This could be it! thought Ortega. Who else would be stupid enough to wander around in these rough, snake infested hillsides in the dark?
Lisbon and Cho were already there. Returning too late to rendezvous with the rest of the task force, they'd volunteered to back up the coverage on the Lucretia Stairway.
Surrounding the park, were nine of these stairways. Coverage was thin. Along with those watching from vantage points on the hillsides were those assigned to the interior of the park itself and the entrances to the various parking areas as well as the streets around them.
Ortega was reluctant to leave his post but ached to get his hands on the cold-blooded bastard wreaking havoc on his turf. There'd already been at least a couple of accidental shootings. Somebody had nailed their teenage daughter's horny boyfriend as he'd climbed through her bedroom window a couple of nights ago. The kid would, thankfully. survive but with the hard-won lesson that like the song says; love does, indeed, hurt.
The overworked 911 operators were fielding torrents of frantic calls from those who: 'heard a noise downstairs', "out in the yard, 'at the window', etc. They dispatched patrol officers all over the city like carroms bouncing off the edges of the game table. The city was a hysterical mess.
Lisbon's voice sounded in his ear, barking orders and requesting additional backup. She and Cho were the only team staking out that location. Ortega sent the two patrolmen who'd been watching the steps with he and Jane to assist her.
Jane looked at him quizzically as the others rushed off. Ortega beckoned him to follow but, the consultant just shook his head and re-took his seat on the bench.
"Lisbon just radioed they're pursuing a guy carrying a bundle across the hillside to the east of here. Let's go!." ordered the agitated detective as Jane made not the slightest move to comply.
"Not him." said Jane evenly.
"How do you know? Who else would be wandering around naked across a probably rattler infested hillside in the dark?"
Naked?
In the bright moonlight, Jane locked eyes with Ortega and shook his head. "I have to stay here."
"How do you know for sure?" asked the detective running his hand through his hair in frustration.
"I just know."
"I repeat, Patrick, how do you know?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Just take my word. You can join the others if you feel I'm full of it but, leave me a gun."
"Your serious?"
"As a heart attack."
"Do you even know how to use a gun?"
"Point and pull the trigger right? I'll figure it out fairly fast or I'll be joining the other 'gifts' to Tonatiuh."
"Shit!. said Ortega as he once again sat beside the consultant on the warm bench.
...
Almost there. He'd not seen anyone watching but he'd been pretty busy trying not to slide down the hillside into the park below. The landscape was lit nearly as bright as day. The moon was almost overhead. He'd have to hurry.
The heavy medallion slapped against his bare chest as his foot failed to find solid purchase in the crumbling dirt. He clamped his mouth shut, trying not to call out as he barely stopped his fall, going painfully to his knees to keep from tumbling on top of his precious cargo.
Almost there.
The baby stirred in his arms.
...
Suddenly, below and to the west of them, came an almost inaudible cry. Both men stood as one to strain eyes and ears toward its direction. It was just the one brief sound that the wind had pushed toward them.
"Cat?" asked Ortega, turning to Jane who was focused on the hillside below as well.
"Maybe." answered the blonde man peering intently into the darkness. "There!" he exclaimed in a whisper as he pointed toward a flash of reflected moonlight.
"It's him." said Jane calmly though the adrenaline had begun its surge and his heart just shifted into fifth gear.
"Let's go!" Ortega whispered, reaching down to his ankle to get the back-up gun he kept in the holster there.
Jane looked startled as the small twenty-two was thrust into his hands. He took it uncertainly as Ortega said, "Close enough and in the right zone, it'll kill whoever you hit with it but, it's not going to come to that." he said, determination the dominant note in his statement.
"Point and shoot, right?" swallowed Jane, his mouth suddenly dry as the curled leaves skipping and rolling across the concrete.
"Take the safety off first."
"Oh."
They swiftly made their way back along the nearly invisible dirt path that lead up the hillside to the terrace. In the daylight it was a quick, easy stroll but, at night, not so much. Jane nearly took a header as he tripped over a trailing tree root and barely kept from falling and taking the detective with him as he caught onto his arm to regain his balance.
Ortega knew this was mostly up to him. Actually, he just hoped Jane would keep it together and stay out of the way at least. This, obviously, wasn't the consultant's area of expertise.
The wind danced around them; skipping along to taunt and tease; trying to distract them from what may lay ahead.
...
This was the end of his quest. He'd reached the terrace where it would all end and he could rest; his people once again safe.
The baby seemed weightless as he placed it gently at the top of the step.
As it flowed over his body, the wind dried the shine of sweat from his skin. It whipped at the roughly woven fabric of his loincloth and the edges of the light blanket that wrapped the child.
He drew the knife from its sheath on his belt. Back in the quonset hut, he'd honed it carefully. The blade was sharp enough to skim through flesh without any resistance; only be a quick flash of pain and then it would be over.
He had no need to collect the vial of blood this time. The others were a promise, this was the actual fulfillment. His time on earth wouldn't be for naught. He'd failed his men on that Godforsaken rock-pile. He'd failed Aricele and the children. He wouldn't fail the sun god.
He took the medallion from his neck; wincing as its chain caught in his hair. He pulled it free, a few strands still wrapped around the yellow metal links.
The wind seemed to increase its speed and frenzy in anticipation. He carefully laid the golden symbol with its inset blood-red stone onto the soft blanket that wrapped the chosen one.
The child stirred slightly; perhaps in a dream? Andres wondered what babies may dream of. Their lives hadn't yet been full enough of experiences and memories from which to draw. He hoped the dream was a pleasant one.
He began the chant; reciting the familiar words of blood, sacrifice and redemption this one last time as he raised the knife over his head, its blade reflecting the cold moon suspended in the black, limitless, sky.
The wind surged and moaned around him. He could hear it speak with Tonatiuh's voice. Now, Jaguar! Save your people! You must do this now!
...
"Police! Drop the knife!" rang out behind him.
The warrior whirled to see two men standing a few feet away, one of them pointing a gun at the center of his chest. The other only holding it loosely at his side.
"Drop it right now and step away from the baby!" the voice commanded.
Apizaco hesitated then, lowering the blade, stepped away from the sleeping child.
"Drop it!" warned the voice again, the man who was holding the gun on him stepped closer.
Then, in a underhand movement almost too fast to see, the blade flashed in the moonlight almost simultaneously with a sharp report and the flash from the end of the gun barrel. Both warriors crashed to the concrete and lay still.
...
Eyes closed, he lay panting on the ground. The impact of the bullet had been like the kick of a mule; spinning him downward to collide with the walkway.
He could hear an alarmed cry but, instead of the quick footsteps going toward the downed man, they went toward the baby.
Opening his eyes, he saw a blonde man bending over the child, a small gun held at his side as though almost forgotten.
The warrior's hand moved toward his belt to find the small, narrower knife meant to taste only his own blood after this final task was complete.
...
Looking down at the two men sprawled on the ground, he couldn't see any movement. Blood, a black trail in the moonlight, slowly inched away from each body, threatening to mingle into one as the viscous edges crept toward a low place in the concrete.
"Ortega!" Yelled Jane as he stepped away toward the quiet bundle at the edge of the top step.
There was movement beside to him. He felt something brush against him. Gasping, he lurched away, stumbling over Ortega's prone body. The gun slipped from his hand and clattered away down the steps. The sound growing fainter as it bounced along toward the bottom.
He hadn't even felt the blade slice through clothing and skin. He only looked down when he felt the wetness. He stayed frozen in place, transfixed by the sight of his own blood splatting onto the walkway . . . there was so much of it.
It was as though the visual cue awoke the pain sensors in his body and then, it hurt . . . a lot.
Jane hadn't even seen the man rise from the ground but, hand clamped over his bicep, Apizaco now stood before him. A dark ribbon trailed slowly down his arm to drip from the tip of the narrow blade in his hand.
"Give me the baby!" he demanded in a strong, clear voice.
"No!" answered Jane shakily, his voice sounding not nearly as fierce or strong as the voice of the man holding the knife.
"Tonatiuh commands it!"
"Well, Tonatiuh can go jump into Echo Park Lake!" said Jane with some conviction of his own as he backed away from the mostly naked man standing in front of him.
"You're 'the other', aren't you?" hissed the Jaguar, eyes narrowing at the man now holding the child.
"I'm the one who's going to keep you from killing this baby, if that's what you mean."
They stood, eyes locked on one another, the air swirling around them.
"The wind told me of you." said the warrior in a quieter but, somehow, no less threatening tone as he sized up the blonde man standing only a few feet away. He doesn't really look like anyone to be worried about.
"You, I take it, are El Jaguar? The wind told me about you too." said Jane calmly, still managing, somehow, to sound unafraid while stalling for time; hoping to hear the sound of the cavalry coming to his rescue. Back-up had been hastily requested by Ortega as they'd scurried up the trail from the outbuilding. If there was anyone coming to the rescue, it would have to be those not rushing toward Lisbon's location on the other side of the park.
"I am the protector of my people. I am on a journey to save them." was the quiet statement in strangely stilted cadence; spoken with frightening conviction.
"Your wife says enough with the journey already, Andres. She wants you to come home." Jane was beginning to slowly inch away from the scary guy with the knife. His side now felt as though it was on fire.
"I have no wife!" said Apizaco
"But, you do, Andres. Her name is Aricele. She's quite beautiful. She's worried about you and wants you to give up this quest and come home to her and your sons."
There was a hesitation this time before Apizaco repeated, "I have no wife."
"You have a beautiful wife and three beautiful children, remember?" insisted Jane. "They need you." he said, taking another cautious half-step away from the man whose bare skin shone in the moonlight. "They miss you. They need you." he repeated.
"I have to complete this, it's my duty!" thundered Apizaco, his voice taking on the tiniest hint of defensiveness.
"Your duty is to your family, just as your duty was to your country." said Jane still stalling but trying to break through to whatever sanity the man may still retain. It was certainly a longshot.
There was still no sound of rescuers from beyond the bright glow of the pathway.
"My family is my people! I have to do as commanded by the Tonatiuh to save them."
"Tonatiuh is wrong. It's wrong to kill the innocent, Andres. You know that."
"ENOUGH, Angel!" thundered the Jaguar, eyes widening in anger at the disrespect toward his diety.
How did this crazy man know what the bruja called me? wondered Jane.
Then, Apizaco, sounding more curious than anything else asked. "That is your name, verda'? Angel?" once again the 'g' sound was replaced with an 'h' in the name. "You are 'the other' the wind warned me of."
He stood waiting for Jane to confirm his otherworldly identity.
The consultant knew if he did confirm it, he'd be the next blood donor on Tonatiuh's list. Still stalling, he answered, "I haven't been called angel since I was three, no, make that two. You know how the 'terrible twos' are . . . but no, I'm certainly no angel." he smiled, At this point, though, it may have appeared more as a ghastly grin.
"You are the one I was warned of . . . 'El Angel de la Ventana'. I can't let you live. All will be lost if I do!." This with calm, cold, conviction he said, "You must die!"
Clutching the baby tightly to his chest and spinning quickly away from the Jaguar; Jane yelled over his shoulder. "You'll have to catch me first!" as he began a sprint down the walkway toward the back side of the hill.
He was fast, he knew it, and the extra boost of adrenaline was like adding rocket fuel to his system. He just hoped 'El Jaguar' wasn't faster, the guy looked to be in excellent shape.
The first few yards were easy. He'd actually created some space between himself and his pursuer. He could barely hear the pounding of bare feet behind him.
His body was tiring more quickly than it should have. Even the baby was beginning to feel heavy in his arms. The burning feeling on his side was now a raging fire. He knew he was bleeding but he couldn't stop to check. Besides, he didn't really want to know if his insides were in danger of being on the outside.
He vaguely realized he could get farther faster if he could manage to run in a straight line but, that simple thing seemed enormously difficult to do at the moment. He hoped Ortega's bullet had taken a lot of the speed out of Apizaco.
The consultant's head began to reel. His eyes didn't want to track properly and the ground seemed to move beneath his feet. Great, an earthquake, he thought though he knew even his luck wasn't that bad. He suspected it was probably something to do with blood loss.
Hearing the footfalls coming closer, he tried to increase his speed but his body refused to cooperate. Managing a few more staggering steps before landing painfully on his still scabby knees; he struggled to rise again. Then, the Jaguar was behind him.
Jane realized they'd nearly reached the back steps. His unfocused vision told him they weren't as imposing as the front steps and had several switchbacks and landings before reaching the bottom of the hill. Too his horror, he realized there must be at least the requisite number of two-hundred and sixty though, he didn't really have time to count them right now.
"So, Angel . . . " said the slightly breathless voice behind him. "This is where it ends for you. I'm sure Tonatiuh will be happy to have your blood as well."
Apizaco moved cautiously around his gasping prey; coming to stand in front of him.
"Probably not" gasped Jane. "If he's looking for purity, I'm afraid I fall a little short on that requirement."
Apizaco appeared to smile then said, "No matter, he'll be happy to have the blood of two warrior's tonight", then he paused, "No, make that three . . . as well as the chosen one. Your blood will be next, then the child, then . . . ", he didn't finish the sentence. I've already killed the other."
It suddenly dawned on the warrior that, perhaps, this man may not be the one he'd been warned of. Though he didn't look particularly dangerous; with his golden hair glowing in the moonlight, he certainly looked like El Angel. He looked like the being in the dream the sun god had sent him as warning. He was 'the other' . . . wasn't he? Maybe, he'd already dispatched 'the other' when he'd killed the man with the mustache. It didn't really matter, the sun god would be happy.
Jane clutched the infant even tighter to his chest; tight enough that it squawked in protest. He suddenly noticed the shadows under them had grown longer. The moon wasn't directly overhead now.
"You know, you can't sacrifice the boy now. The moon's begun its descent. It's too late. You fucked up." said Jane almost gleefully.
Apizaco appeared startled as he looked first upward toward the sky and then down at the incongruous watch fastened to his wrist. The device was jarring against his current mode of dress . . . or lack of it.
There was sudden, complete silence. Even the wind stilled; holding its heated breath as if awaiting the Jaguar's next words.
"Then, I'll have to start over. There are more babies. First, I will appease the sun god with the blood of an Angel - a warrior angel, a spirit . . . seems worthy of a sacrifice to me."
"I wish I could say I was flattered." croaked 'the spirit'; mouth even drier than before. "You'll let the baby live then?" sounding calm though his heart pounded like a jackhammer against his breastbone.
"I have no need for the child now. The time for the infant has passed. You, Angel, and your friend will have to suffice for tonight."
Jane thought the whole thing rather ironic. At one time, he'd actually thought of drawing a blade across his own jugular. Now, here was someone willing to do it for him. Life can be funny sometimes. He almost smiled, attributing his strange reaction to blood loss and shock.
Gently, he set the now squirming but still quiet infant on the walkway; barely managing to keep his balance as he leaned forward. He looked down at the dark spatters on the concrete. Is all this blood mine?
"The baby won't be harmed?" he asked, blinking his eyes and swaying slightly; seeking reassurance from the warrior standing so still in the moonlight. Standing as though he'd been there, a fugitive from time itself, for the last ten centuries.
"You have my word." answered the warrior.
Still on his knees, Jane slowly straightened, looked into the glittering madness of the eyes of the Jaguar and nodded. The blade of the knife reflected brightly in the silver light.
Sighing softly, resignedly, the Angel turned his head and closed his eyes.
*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*CBI*
TBC
PLEASE REVIEW! Even if you just want to yell at me for being so evil.