31: Criminal Enterprises

Miami. Goliath not travelled much beyond New York City, not since his so-called 'world tour' and the magical shenanigans that had led to it. After all, Manhattan had been his home for a long time. He protected it and the people who lived within the city, as a gargoyle was instinctually driven to do. Leaving it had been difficult, but the safety of Elisa and his son had been paramount. In the end, the decision had been easier for that fact alone.

This new city was different to New York, even during the night. He had become used to the dreary grey towers of Manhattan, the tight crowded streets and the smells of gasoline and the multitudes of people that wafted up between those towers. Here, Miami was somewhat more spread out, the skyscrapers a little more colourful, more gleaming glass towers than grey blocks. The city was broken up across more small islands than even New York had been. There was more water, with long sandy beaches that overshadowed any similar stretch that could be found within New York City or its surrounds.

Its popularity as a tourist spot was easy to understand. Goliath had emerged from a private helipad on the side of a modest blue-grey building near the downtown area of the city. He was ten floors up, with Little Haiti at his back with rows of small, beige and pastel-coloured houses lining streets broken up with lush greenery. Ahead, a similar neighbourhood, before coming up to the currently dark waters of night-time Miami. Even in the dark, the place seemed a little more vibrant.

Much more water than New York City. A slight updraft could be felt flying up around the office complex. The moon was up high, a partial silvery disc. Across the bay, the somewhat slim island home to Miami Beach waited for him, with some of the larger buildings lit up with distant lights under the dark sky. He had a couple of hours until sunrise, and that was time he did not intend to waste, even if the view from up here was a pleasant one. As much as he would have enjoyed taking in the sights and sounds of this new setting, he had a job to do.

As if to remind him of this, he heard a beeping from the communicator he wore around his left wrist. It was a form of watch, complete with touchscreen display, kindly provided by Lexington. It bared the LexTech logo, just another gadget the young gargoyle had had a hand in creating. A watch, a phone and a web-browser all in one, among other things. Goliath hit one of only two buttons on the side of it, accepting the call.

"Goliath?" It was Lexington, as expected. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you. Loud and clear." Goliath flexed his wings. They were aching a little, having spent the last few hours cloaked around him whilst he rode the helicopter. That chopper was well on its way now, heading back north, its lights stark against the deep purple-black night sky.

"That's great. That watch is a newer model, not available to the public. You often get problems with these prototypes, but if you can hear me then that's a good sign."

"What else can this do?" Goliath asked, surveying the otherwise plain gadget.

"All sorts of stuff. One important thing is that it gives me your location in real-time, thanks to the magic of GPS. As long as you have it with you, I can find you."

"You expect me to get into trouble?" This question seemed a bit of a no-brainer. Of course he was going to get into trouble. Dealing with the Illuminati was bound to cause problems, but at this stage he did not care. If it meant finding Elisa and Vincent, he would gladly stride into Hell itself.

"Well, you do have a habit of finding it."

"Very true, Lexington." Goliath watched the street below, quiet as it was. Traffic was sparse at this hour, especially in this part of town. "Where should I start? You mentioned you had a potential location for Martin Hacker."

"I do, but he could have moved elsewhere in the meantime. The information is a couple of days old. You're going to have to head to a place in the Bay Harbour Islands. There is a hotel there, the Palm Shade Bay Residences. Real fancy place, so it's not surprising that an Illuminati member is staying over there. He's supposed to be renting a room on the upper floor. It's not a big place, so I'm sure you'll be able to find him if he's still there."

"And your elaborate computer systems, they gave you this information?" Goliath still had his uncertainties about this particular aspect of Lexington's business ventures. The young gargoyle sounded keen, judging from the tone his voice took on next.

"You could call it an 'artificial intelligence', just one that doesn't act on its own. It needs outside input from an actual user, whether that be me or someone else with the means to access it. And yes, it did scrounge up this piece of information, corroborating all kinds of sources from all over to get a lock on Hacker's location. Thing is, the Illuminati are very good at covering their tracks. I believe they have similar systems of their own, maybe even full-blown artificial intelligences at their disposal. For every little piece of information mine gets, a whole lot more is lost, scrubbed off of any accessible records by other, equally sophisticated systems. You could say it's an information war, and the Illuminati are the ones with the advantage."

"So, you fight them with one of your own. Fight fire with fire, you could say?"

"Yeah, that's about right."

"I would be cautious, Lexington." Goliath allowed some grimness to seep into his voice. "When one plays with fire, they can be very easily burnt by it."

"Don't worry about me, Goliath. I've been doing this kind of thing for years. I mean, you know me. I'm always careful."

Goliath felt then that he did not truly know Lexington, not as he was now. The young gargoyle had changed, that much was obvious, and Goliath was still uncertain as to the full extent of those changes. For now, he withheld judgment. After all, Lexington was helping him and any lead, no matter how minor, was better than what he had had before. Out there, his son and mate were in peril; if Martin Hacker had anything to offer, he would get it out of him, one way or another.

"So, you're going to want to set up near that hotel," Lexington added. "You've got maybe ninety minutes to daylight, roughly. If Hacker isn't there, you're going to want to get a good spot for your stone-sleep. I'll send through the location data to your watch, just give me a moment."

The gadget beeped after a few seconds, and Goliath looked to the display. A map of his current location had appeared, zooming out to provide a layout of a large portion of Miami. A green blip marked his intended destination, which was a good glide across the bay and towards the far island. With the warm breeze as it was, Goliath's wings would have no trouble getting him over there.

"I have it," he said into the watch.

"Great. Head on over there. I might be busy for a little while, so if you can't get in contact until sunrise, wait until about eight o'clock tonight. I should be available by then."

"Understood." Goliath flapped his wings. The air here was warm, much warmer than it had been in New York City. More humid as well, and he could feel it in the air around him, not to mention the overall growing stickiness he felt across his skin. When daylight came, that temperature was bound to skyrocket.

"Good luck, Goliath. I wish I could be there with you, but I've got a company to run."

"Goodbye, Lexington. I'll let you know how things go." Goliath watched as Lexington's name disappeared off of the watch's display. The young gargoyle was the only contact stored on the device, so when it came time to call him doing so was only a few taps away.

It had been a while since Goliath had enjoyed a good flight. The wind currents here were a little less intense than the ones in New York, if only because there were fewer towering skyscrapers around here for the winds to wrap themselves around. Such tall buildings created channels for the wind currents to billow through, often increasing their overall windspeed. Before him, he had mostly open water, with freeway bridges to the north and south, connecting the various small islands that comprised the city.

He spread his wings and leapt off of the edge of the building. Right away the winds caught him, lifting him up. They scattered across the water ahead, and at this height he had little difficulty in riding across the bay. Against the black night sky, he would have been little more than a faint silhouette, a shadow against the moonlight. It was a sight most people would barely look twice at, and if they did they were not likely to see much more of him. Attracting unwanted attention was something Goliath very much wanted to avoid, and with this in mind he steered clear of any boats that were out on the water. There were a few, he saw, even at this early morning hour; a couple of smaller personal craft, drifting along with their occupants below deck. And then there was the large yacht situated almost smack in the middle of the waters between the mainland and the larger island, all lit up with well-to-do partygoers on the large open deck. By this hour, the party had died down, yet as Goliath soared high overhead he could make out the sounds of music and multiple voices. Carefree humans enjoying a celebration, for what reason he could not determine.

Not that it mattered. All it did was remind him of the things he had missed these past seven years, among them the get-togethers the clan had had before Devil's Night had disrupted everything. Whether it had been in the rebuilt clock tower or the Eyrie Building, the birthday parties, thanksgivings, Independence Day celebrations, New Year's Eves and Christmases had been occasions to look forward to. The entire clan would come together for such things, no matter where they might have been at the time. A distant memory now, and the thought only made Goliath all the more dour.

The hotel he sought was situated on a small island a short distance from the island that comprised Miami Beach. It was lit by a few outdoor streetlamps, although the building itself was quiet. None were out here at five in the morning, unsurprisingly.

Goliath set himself down atop a neighbouring building of a similar height. The hotel was only about three floors tall, which made it one of the tallest structures on the street, along with the slightly less-luxurious looking place Goliath had landed upon. The street below was quiet, cast in the glow of streetlights. He sighted a man in a tracksuit out jogging, and for a moment Goliath watched him go by, remaining shrouded in shadow atop the squat apartment building. The man did not even look up, he had no reason to. He simply kept on jogging, racing past and remaining oblivious to the winged creature that was perched high above him.

Goliath's attention went to the windows on the top floor of the luxury residence across the street. Three floors and with a mostly blocky look, Goliath saw no lights on and no movement. Something told him he may be here a while, so he shifted to a somewhat more comfortable position on his knees, feeling the slight tingle of his internal body-clock as sunrise neared.

A stakeout, just like Elisa did during her police days. One thing she had mentioned to him more than once was how boring they could be. This one would be no exception, it seemed. All the while Goliath thought about her and Vincent, his mind dominated by the fears and worries and anger he felt at their loss. Something told him he would know if they were dead, that somehow he would feel it on an instinctual level. And right now, his gut told him they were alive. For how much longer, he did not know. Perhaps this Martin Hacker could help him, if he ever made an appearance.

The meeting the next morning went over their reasons for being in Miami in somewhat finer detail: somehow along the line, Xanatos, with his network of sources, had uncovered an Illuminati operation that would see the transfer of an important package take place within the city. It was currently in the hands of some independent group, presumably some business with ties to the secret society. They were keeping the package secure, moving it about the city at irregular intervals in order to throw off any potential pursuers, all while preparing to hand it over at some point in the next few days. As for where that exchange would take place, Xanatos did not know. He had deemed it best they intercept it whilst they still had a handle on where it was located, which was at a well-to-do-hotel by the popular South Beach of the city.

The group were seated about Xanatos' hotel room. Sophie was situated on a chair at the one table near the kitchen area, with Brooklyn seated just off to her right. They were dressed in their usual outfits, both feeling refreshed after their sleep (among other things). Dingo sat off to the left-hand side of the table, puffing on a cigar despite the 'no smoking' rule that was present for all rooms of the hotel. Jane leaned against the kitchen countertop, twirling a small throwing knife about in one-hand, providing what seemed to be some vague level of attention to what Xanatos was saying. As for the man himself, he was at the other side of the table, whilst behind him Owen had gone and pinned maps and photographs onto the wall.

"Early this morning, Dingo here went out and took some photos of the target," Xanatos said. He pointed to a handful of still photos that showed the hotel, with its neon-lit front and pink and beige colour scheme bathed in the dawn light. "We can count on them holding onto it until this afternoon, which does not give us much time to create a workable plan."

"Do we know what it is?" Sophie asked. "I mean, you're sending us out to grab a case, except we don't know what's in it. What good is that?"

"All you have to know is that it's something we can use against the Illuminati." Xanatos sounded confident, and he did not even provide the slightest hint of a frown at Sophie's very obvious doubt. To Brooklyn, the whole thing stunk to high heaven. However, he could not deny the fact that Xanatos had helped them before. He had led them to Goliath and Elisa, for one. If he thought this item would help, then it may very well be beneficial to follow through with the plan. Brooklyn was short on ideas and, he figured, shorter on time. How long did they have, before Goliath and Vincent met some nasty fates? Were they even still alive?

"You better not be playing us," Brooklyn said then. Xanatos turned to him, one eyebrow cocked. "You've done this before, you know. Get others to do your dirty work. The fact that you won't tell us what's in this case…"

"Is besides the point, Brooklyn." Xanatos sounded almost disappointed. "Your doubts are understandable, but how long has it been since I last tried to get one over you or any of your clanmates? For years I was your benefactor, and I still am. I owe you a great deal for helping me on a number of things, and I'm a man who pays his debts. Not to mention, we both have a desire to see the Illuminati fall. And believe it or not, Brooklyn, but I very much want to save Goliath as much as you do. Despite our frequent differences, he was someone I considered a friend. If I felt any animosity towards him, do you think I would have helped him and Elisa escape into isolation? I could easily have turned them in to the authorities, their son included. A lot of people would have paid handsomely to get hold of the world's only gargoyle-human hybrid."

What he said made sense, Brooklyn could not deny that. The man was sincere, even if the young gargoyle had always harboured an innate distrust for him since that first incident with him all those years ago. Back when he had worked with Demona, a working relationship that had ended since not even Xanatos could condone the killing of innocents. Demona, on the other hand, had no qualms with slaughtering humans. Thinking about her now only made Brooklyn angry, especially when he recalled what she had done to Hudson.

"I have conflicting reports as to what it contains," Xanatos continued. He motioned to a photo of the well-dressed man holding the case in one hand, situated upon a balcony of the hotel. "The Illuminati want it, and I suspect their imp friends are making their moves now to coincide with its acquisition."

"Imps, huh?" Jane was the one to say this, and she sounded unconvinced. "What next? Werewolves? Vampires?"

"Maybe." Brooklyn met her gaze then, seeing the amusement on her face. To her, more supernatural creatures would only mean more things to fight and kill. For someone who was supposed to be an expert assassin, she seemed to lack discipline.

"There are a lot of things out there that we don't know about," Xanatos said. "At least this time around, we know what we're getting into. Our enemies are human, in this case. Private security, mercenaries and former military. How good they are is difficult to discern."

"The guy with the case always has two other blokes with him," Dingo added, causing all heads in the room to turn his way. "And the front of the hotel was being watched by a car with a further two men inside it. A black sedan, which is in that photo on the right there." He pointed to the appropriate image pinned on the wall. "There were two similar vehicles in the parking lot. Both of them are those from the early set of photos you showed us, same license plates and everything."

"And there could be more, hanging back elsewhere as support." Xanatos nodded his head as he spoke, apparently satisfied with this information. "What we do know is that they will move the case later this afternoon. The man who has the case always has it handcuffed to him whenever he ventures out of the hotel room. They have one car for the man with the case, plus two more as defence. So, as a convoy, they would place the car containing the package in the middle."

"Do we know where they're headed?" Sophie asked.

"That part's sketchy," Xanatos answered. "I have managed to gather that they intend on going to a dock on Dodge Island, south of their current location. Likely, the exchange with the Illuminati will take place somewhere offshore for added security. We can ambush them somewhere between the hotel and the island, which does not give us too much opportunity. If we allow them to reach the island, their friends waiting at the dock will only add to their numbers which are, obviously, greater than our own."

"I planted trackers on the three cars," Dingo stated.

"You did?" Sophie frowned. Dingo took a long drag on his cigar, eyeing the woman with a relaxed look.

"As per Mister Xanatos' orders," he replied.

Owen chimed in then, holding a small tablet computer in one hand. Presumably, it had the tracking information up on its screen right now.

"And they haven't moved from that hotel," Owen said. "We may be on the right track."

"All right, so where's the intercept?" Sophie had very clear doubts about the whole plan. So did Brooklyn, yet he was content to sit back and allow her to voice what they were both thinking. "We can't just roll in on the hotel guns blazing. There are too many civilians out there, it's a popular vacation spot. We need to be sure of where they're headed, otherwise this whole thing can go to shit very easily."

"That's where you two come in." Xanatos turned to the gargoyle, who perked up where he sat. "You and Sophie will await them here, by the start of the causeway at the south end of Miami Beach. Owen and I will provide interference in an almost literal sense, as we have enabled a direct line for ourselves into the city's traffic control. A whole lot of traffic lights are going to go conveniently red once the convoy nears your position. That should clear the traffic away from there for a few minutes, but it won't guarantee an absence of civilians altogether."

"What about me?" Jane turned to him with a hard frown. "You can't except me to sit out on the sidelines."

"Of course not, my dear Jane," Xanatos countered, his mouth forming into a smile. "You and Dingo will be lying in wait in separate cars. As soon as Sophie and Brooklyn have engaged the convoy, the two of you can move in and provide support. Specifically, you will be on the lookout for the other support cars that these people no doubt have at their disposal, not to mention any law enforcement vehicles that may join the fray."

"We're not going to kill cops," Sophie interjected. Her voice was firm. To her, this was a non-negotiable aspect of the mission. Xanatos nodded his head in agreement.

"That was not my intention at all," he said. "We should have a few minutes before the police arrive. By that point, you will all be long gone."

Brooklyn turned to Sophie, and she in turn glanced his way. She was evidently very uncomfortable with the whole thing. Brooklyn was not terribly confident in it himself, if only because of the uncertainty of what they were going after. Xanatos being vague with the package was typical of him, even if it was apparent he was not sure of the contents himself.

"Don't look so conflicted," Dingo said, and he looked to Sophie. "This thing will be a piece of cake. It might even be fun."

"This will be a blow against the Illuminati," Xanatos added. "And once that package is in our possession, we'll be able to use it as leverage."

"What aren't you telling us, Xanatos?" Brooklyn said, looking the man squarely in the eyes. Indeed, there was that hint that maybe he was not being entirely honest. Or maybe that was just Brooklyn's own distrust of the man coming to the forefront again. Sure, Xanatos had helped them out, but he could not help but think that the man was now throwing him into the deep end.

"I've told you everything I know, Brooklyn. You have to understand, this is a war we're fighting. A war against the Illuminati. Any blow we strike against them is a win not only for us, but for the free-loving peoples of the world. Make no mistake, everything they do is to an end that would see the bulk of the population eradicated and them, that is the higher authorities within the Illuminati, elevated to a demigod-like status. Ultimate power and immortality are what they strive for. I suspect the key to both of those things is inside that case."

Brooklyn looked past him to the photo of the well-dressed bald gentleman holding the metal case. It looked about as innocuous as could be, comprised of a sturdy silver-grey metal. Yet, Brooklyn's gut told him there was more to it, more to all of this than he could see.

"We'll run through our inventory, determine who gets what," Xanatos said, referring to the containers of equipment stacked in one corner of the room. "As much as I would prefer to keep the body-count to a minimum, the people guarding the objective will be armed and they won't hesitate to shoot. It may be in our best interests to be properly prepared for such an eventuality."

Brooklyn did not like the sound of that. He had never seen himself as a killer, even if he had taken a few lives over the years during the heat of a fight. And guns? He had seldom touched one, having found his strength and his claws more than capable of putting a stop to his foes.

"Owen will organize the vehicles," Xanatos continued. "Nothing too fancy, but with the power necessary to keep up with what we want."

"I'm starting to feel like a real criminal," Sophie remarked, as she rose from her seat. Brooklyn followed her, unable to shake the feeling himself. Still, given what had happened so far, it should not have been a surprise that their circumstances had changed so drastically. Ambushes, arms deals, guns and fast cars; some small part of Brooklyn felt positively excited by all of this, even if it was all dreadfully dangerous.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll be right here with you, committing crimes," Brooklyn said, his voice low enough for only her to hear. She smiled, with Brooklyn putting a hand to her shoulder as he walked alongside her to the containers of equipment.

"Like some sort of cross-species Bonnie and Clyde?"

"Maybe, just nothing so ruthless."

Sophie stopped before the boxes. Here, she flicked open the latches on the topmost one, revealing the practically brand-new automatic rifle inside, along with several magazines filled with 5.56mm rounds.

"Well…" Sophie turned to him, her eyes having widened a little slightly. "I'll admit, I do have a soft spot for big guns."

Jane overheard this, and she visibly rolled her eyes.

"Yikes, get a room you two," she said aloud, causing Sophie to shoot her a mean glance. "We're in a motel, it's not hard to find one. Maybe this time, get it a few doors down so you don't keep us all awake with the noise."