A/N: Yup. Posting a bit more often than I planned, since I realized that this weekend is Easter Weekend, which makes Friday "Good Friday"...and...well...you'll see.
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"Remind me again," Joshua growled, "of why I haven't killed Hawk before this."
Joshua had taken the time to listen to the answering machine in the war-room, Downs and Mar right there scowling — and all three had gotten their guns. Once in Downs' little Gremlin and safely out of hearing of the Hardys and anyone else, Downs had further briefed Joshua and Mar what Kris had said, with Joshua filling in what Frank and Joe had said about Vladimir and the kids.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Their little mouse knew better than that. Joshua had pounded it into her head, that you never, ever, went after a charlie without backup, period.
Especially a charlie on the potential nuke-level of Thatcher.
None of the other Blades had been around, save Drake, who had — reluctantly — agreed to stay in Center to keep watch for Joe's tail and to run communications, if needed. Too short-handed, never enough man-power, and Joshua hadn't had the leisure to go over the various West-Coast assignments to see what and who could get re-apportioned. Stupid, quintupled, octupled, and hundred-tupled. Joshua would make time, after this.
"Calm down," Mar said. "She had reason."
"She's got too much of her big brothers in her head, that's the reason, darlin'," Joshua snapped, but settled, holding his peace until Downs finally, finally pulled into the parking lot behind Wings. With that, all three of them piled out, and Joshua was the first through the back kitchen doors.
Ruth met them there; she looked haggard and worn. "Kris left right after she called you. She hasn't made it back."
"Time?" Mar said.
"About forty minutes ago. She said to start worrying at thirty, but you folks had already left."
"She over-estimated," Joshua snapped, then forced himself to calm down. He didn't need to take it out on Ruth, and there were still regular volunteers back here, fixing meals for the shelter residents — volunteers who were staring with worried, curious eyes.
"She cut through the warehouse lots, if that helps. I thought I saw her cross the street at one point, but I couldn't be sure. Edward stuck to Carroll Street." Ruth lead them out of the kitchen and into the cafeteria proper. "I've got the guns in the lockbox upstairs, Josh, if you need a fourth to search."
"No, darlin'." Joshua was not going to drag in a civilian, no matter how short-handed they were. "You stay here. If by any chance Frank and Joe show up, do not let them out and do not tell them what's going on, understood? Keep your mouth shut, Harold. I'm not in the mood for it."
Downs raised his eyebrow, but said nothing.
"Ruth?" The night desk receptionist poked her head into the cafeteria. "Someone called Drake said to tell you 'Frank left the Center and didn't tell anyone where he was going'. He said you'd know what he meant."
"Thanks, Shirley," Ruth said, sighing.
Joshua's head hurt. "God bless it, Mar, did you raise those three with automatic trouble detectors?"
"That was Fenton's doing," Mar said.
No. He wasn't going to say it. Joshua rubbed at his forehead. "Okay. Let's assume Hawk had a few brain cells and decided to parallel, and not shadow directly behind. I'll go the warehouse-lot route, you two take Bancroft Street —"
"No," Mar said, still calm. "You and Harold team up. That way we've got mind-communication between us."
When he got back, Joshua was going to force walkie-talkies through on the budget, no matter what Eli said. The Southern-gentleman-side pounded into him by Alma did not like the idea of Mar being alone, though the jungles-of-Vietnam-survivalist-side wasn't about to say that out loud.
"Another option," Downs said. "I'll go down Carroll, in case she wasn't thinking, and we'll check in every intersection."
It split them up, but Joshua could see the reasoning on that one, and liked it better; it still put Mar alone, but put everyone in fast reach if trouble happened, at least. "Harold's plan. If someone doesn't check, the remaining two pair up immediately and check the third's route. If you don't see the third in the open, return to Wings, call in everyone."
"Understood," Mar said, and Downs nodded.
One thing to be grateful for — Downs had been one of the Blades on Karma in New Orleans, and had seen the aftermath of Thatcher. There wasn't any argument over the precautions. Joshua cut out the back door and headed for the warehouse lots, slipping through the fence and around the semis parked there, checking the likely spaces that a body could be stashed and a few of the unlikely ones.
All negative.
All three met at the Jennings intersection. Still negative, and now Joshua was definitely worried, as they split back up. Kris shouldn't have gone that far, she knew better, he'd pounded it into that mousy-blonde head of hers…
:Got her.: Mar's mind-voice. :Three buildings down. Pulse, but unconscious.:
Blowing out a heavy breath of relief, Joshua picked up his pace and jogged to the next intersection and cut over to Bancroft Street; from there, he broke into a loping run, as Downs waved him over. Mar knelt in a fenced-off lot of heavy-fencing and construction machines; Kris was curled in the lee of a pile of metal shelving…or, rather, she had been. Shaking her head, she was struggling to rise, mumbling in answer to Mar's worried questions, until Joshua called a halt.
"Not here, Mama Hawk. Let's clear out, before someone sends security to check why we're here."
Simple enough for Joshua and Downs to haul Kris to her feet and help her stumble back to Wings. She wasn't coherent, copacetic, coordinated, or any other co- that Joshua could think of, as they hauled her into the small room that Wings used as a first-aid clinic and shooed out the nurse on duty, much to the woman's irritation. Joshua pushed Kris down onto the couch, as Downs grabbed a blanket from the medical closet.
"She was acting like this in New Orleans, right after she got attacked. Look." Mar pulled the collar of Kris's shirt down at the back, just enough for Joshua to see the red mark, about the size of a man's hand, right where shoulder and neck connected.
Just like New Orleans, but without the blisters.
Using mage-energy to disrupt the nervous system and knock someone unconscious took a lot of power and control — one could kill the other person easily, if one wasn't careful. Presumably, Thatcher had done that to Joe's spine, ruining his legs; Thatcher's attempt at Kris had burned her shoulder, front and back, with second-degree blisters.
And Kris's message claimed one of the kids had been taken over…
Joshua probed gently with a mental "hand", then sat back on his heels. Dear ever-loving God. No signature, not even a trace of an energy attack, just like what had attacked Frank and Joe at the Center.
That couldn't be possible.
Frank and Joe had claimed that the man — Vladimir — wanted to protect two of the kids. To claim that, yet attack Kris…though that was assuming it was him…
If it was Thatcher, if he'd taken over that kid, that meant he was working through a human tool. That could change a signature. Maybe. Possibly. It wasn't something the Association had been able to test, after all.
Joshua bent his head, his hand clenched around the medallion at his chest, and breathed a prayer to St. Michael. Watch over those kids. Protect them. Please.
"Butterfly?" Downs said.
"No sig, no traces." Joshua kept a tight rein on his voice. "Like there's nothing there at all. Like the attacks."
"Her pulse is strong," Mar said. "No bleeding. Skin's not clammy, so she's not in shock, at least."
Two kids missing. One kid possibly taken over by Thatcher, if Kris was right. Kris attacked. Frank and Joe attacked twice at the Center itself. And Frank had left the Center. Joshua closed his eyes, forced himself to think.
Immediate first. "Okay. Mama Hawk, you and I are going to get Kris back to Center and Trevor. Harold, you stay here. I'll send Angel down as soon as he's back."
"I'd prefer Drake," Downs said dryly.
Joshua smiled, thin, tight. "Understood, chè, but Angel knows the 'hood, and he knows those kids' mama personally, so to speak. If Frank shows up, keep him here. Under no circumstances is he to go out after those kids, no matter what."
"You're really impressing me with his abilities, butterfly," Downs drawled. "You recruited him, and here you're scared of him getting involved. Real nice."
Joshua closed his eyes, counted to ten. Twice. "Use your brains, darlin'. If it's Thatcher. He had Joe at his tender mercies for all that blood magic, and that ties Frank in. Blood-connection. I'd prefer to not hand the SOB two pre-packaged victims, if you don't mind." Joshua looked down at Kris. "Same might go for her, through Vão and Rafe." Joshua didn't think things had gotten that far with his partner and the two musicians, but he wasn't about to take the chance. Especially not with what Kris and Vão had done, with the tapping — none of them knew what the effects of that would be.
Now Downs looked a little sick, and Joshua didn't blame him. No one who'd helped clear that mess in New Orleans had gotten away un-scathed.
On the couch, Mar had Kris curled in her arms, murmuring to her as if Kris was a child again; Kris definitely wasn't in any kind of shape to deal with anything — she muttered as if talking in her sleep.
"I don't think it was Thatcher," Mar said. "They left her alive, for one, and she's not physically hurt, as far as I can tell. They put her under those shelves, out of sight…"
"Protecting her, you mean." Joshua thought that over. Thatcher wouldn't have any reason to be merciful to any of them, definitely not to Kris or Joshua. "I can't see Hawk mistaking that SOB for anyone else, though."
"Someone else involved, maybe," Downs said. "That tail?"
Just what they needed, another complication. "We can't take the chance." Joshua helped Mar get Kris to her feet. "When Angel gets here, try to track the kids' mama. The kids themselves, if he can. Do not engage the charlie under any circumstances, understood?"
Downs saluted, without any trace of sarcasm.
Joshua accepted it at face value. "I'll be back down myself after I get info out of Hawk and round up whoever else I can. Even L.A., if I have to. Thatcher or not, we're now at Defcon Five."