Chapter 10: All Hands on Deck
New York City. Friday, December 1, 2006.
Neal and Sara decided to stick with their original plan and return to New York. There was nothing they could accomplish by staying in Connecticut. They fully intended to be part of the rescue party, but they'd need a change of clothes. Henry and Eric were also heading back.
Crowley volunteered to take Tatyana to the vet. Dean and Bobby planned to work the phones, contacting all the hunters they could reach.
Janet was at the mansion waiting for them when they arrived. Henry and Eric stopped off too. They'd divided Janet's costumes and accessories in the two cars. They gathered in the kitchen to relate their adventures to her. Sara uncorked a bottle of wine and Neal made omelets. It had been an excruciatingly long day. They'd left 1913 New York in the early evening and arrived back in New Haven just after midday. But no one was very hungry.
Sara looked up Albert Gleize's biography on the web. Now, instead of dying in 1916, he lived till 1952. Many of his most famous works were painted in the 1920s. Several were now exhibited at the Guggenheim. Neal promised himself to go to the museum as soon as he had an opening in his schedule.
The experience proved how timelines could change. Gleizes's influence on younger artists in the 1930s and 1940s was incalculable. By rescuing him from Astrena, how many lives had they altered? Hopefully for the better, but it was impossible to know for sure.
When Mozzie returned home from London, Neal looked forward to his perspective. For now, time travel was a moot point since the women didn't have the orchid blooms to make more of the necessary potion. Bobby thought that was for the best. It would keep them from being tempted.
That evening they toasted Janet for her assistance and Morris Schinasi for the unwitting help he'd provided. Neal and Sara had decided not to mention the Apocalypse to Janet. If the worst came to pass, they'd have to deal with it then.
The next day, he and Sara went to the Win-Win office—Sara to meet with her insurance recovery agents, Neal to touch base with John Hobhouse, the head of the Interpol art crimes task force. Art crimes hadn't taken a holiday during their honeymoon, and Neal didn't have any backups to do the work when he was out of the office. He was glad to have something to focus on rather than the impending doom hanging over all their heads.
He wished he could tell John about Albert Gleizes and the Armory Show. Instead, John wanted to discuss him spearheading a new project. Museums had grappled for a long time with the unsettling suspicion that many of their paintings on display were forgeries. Neal had seen estimates ranging from ten to fifty percent. Personally, he felt the number of deliberate forgeries was much smaller. A much greater problem was the lack of provenance documentation.
John was eager to establish a series of guidelines for museums to follow. The issue was as much a political as a technical one. For many countries in the world, paintings were considered part of their national treasure. To have one of their masterpieces discovered to be a forgery could incite a national scandal with shockwaves felt throughout institutions across the globe.
The project was an engrossing one, but when Henry stepped into his office, the nightmare hanging over Sam, Maia, and all of them returned in full force.
"I just heard from Pops," Henry said. "Julia and Ash came through for us. We're now on the clock."
"What did they discover?"
"They were able to hack into the British Men of Letters' database and perform a surgical extraction of data with the key identifiers of Azazel and Colt."
"The gun Dean mentioned could kill Azazel?"
"That and Samuel Colt." Henry dropped onto a lab stool next to Neal. "I gotta hand it to Pops. As soon as he heard about the revolver, he made it his mission to learn all he could about both it and the man it's named after."
"Did Samuel Colt invent the Colt revolver?" Neal asked.
"No, but he had several patents on improved mechanisms and parts for the gun. He was also into underwater detonators and various types of combustible cartridges. When Pops told me about the inventor, his biography reminded me a little of Nikola Tesla but Colt was much more successful. And here's the clincher—Samuel Colt spent 1835 in London. This was when he was 21. He'd already achieved fame as an inventor. His first patent was obtained in England. He then returned to the States but continued to maintain close ties with London. He even built a factory there."
"All fascinating information, but I don't see how that helps us."
"Pops brainstormed with Julia about him. This custom Colt Azazel has—what if it wasn't a hunter who reconfigured it but Colt himself?" Henry arched his eyebrows, waiting for the idea to sink in.
"The gun is supposed to shoot custom bullets that can kill demons," Neal mused. "But that would mean Colt knew about demons. Is there any evidence of that?"
"Julia thought there might be. She speculated that Colt could have been a member of the American branch or he could have joined the British Men of Letters when he was in London. The records about him were possibly among the materials taken back to the U.K. This was another reason Julia felt hacking into the Brits' database was justified."
"As if saving the world from the Apocalypse wasn't sufficient," Neal huffed.
"That too. And it turns out, they were right. Both British and American branches of the Men of Letters existed in the early 1800s. Julia discovered that the British branch claims to be founded by Roger Bacon in the thirteenth century."
"Wow," Neal breathed.
Henry nodded in agreement. "Julia was able to piece together that in the early 1800s, relations between the Brits and us were excellent. They freely exchanged information and considered themselves hunters as well as scholars. That's the way Samuel Colt was listed in the records."
"Did she find anything about Azazel?" Neal asked.
"Yeah, he was a threat back then as was Lucifer. The Men of Letters knew about Azazel's attempts to free Lucifer and even his selection of special children. Hunters discovered the location of a crypt in an old cowboy cemetery in southern Wyoming. It was built by Azazel. He intended to use it as a portal between Hell and Earth. Samuel Colt was dispatched to the region. He was tasked with ensuring that Azazel would never be able to open it."
"What did he do?"
"With funding provided by the Men of Letters, he constructed five churches in a rough circle covering about a hundred square miles. He then had iron railroad lines laid down, connecting them into a pentagram." Henry arched an eyebrow. "Sound familiar?"
Neal thought for a moment. "A devil's trap like what Dean used to secure Abaddon?"
"Exactly. The cemetery is in the center. According to the lore, no demon can cross iron, so the pentagon effectively keeps Azazel out. Any demons who might escape through the portal wouldn't be able to cross to the outside. As extra insurance, Colt devised a lock to the crypt. It can only be opened by the custom revolver he built."
"Which Azazel now has," Neal noted. "What Julia found explained why Azazel needed to select someone. The demon couldn't cross iron. He wants Sam to do it on his behalf."
"But we're not going to let him," Henry said, his jaw set in a hard line. "Pops searched through the records and found the five churches mentioned in the document as well as the cemetery. He also discovered why Azazel waited till now to make his move. Have you ever heard of a blood moon?"
"No, but it sounds ominous," Neal said warily.
"I hadn't heard of it either but Pops looked it up. It's a lunar eclipse of a full moon. When the eclipse is total, the moon appears reddish. And if the eclipse occurs when the moon is closest to Earth, it's a blood supermoon. According to lore gathered by the Men of Letters, Azazel can only unlock the portal of Hell when a blood supermoon occurs in December." Henry winced. "As it so happens, there's one scheduled for this Saturday night." He pulled out a notebook. "The Men of Letters quoted from the Book of Revelation: 'And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood.' "
Henry fell silent. Neal could hear the distant chatter of staff and the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Would their world soon be ripped apart by the Apocalypse? Even though they'd been discussing the possibility for a while, it hadn't seemed real. Now it was staring him in the face.
"I assume you and Sara want to be part of what's going down?" Henry said quietly, breaking into his thoughts.
"Of course, we do."
"I won't attempt to talk you out of it. I didn't have any luck with Eric. Saving the world trumps anything else on our plates." Henry took a breath. "Pops and Julia have reserved one of the company jets. They'll arrive at Teterboro Airport at six o'clock this evening."
Neal immediately started a list in his mind of what to take. They only had a few hours to prepare.
"From there, we'll fly to New Haven and then on to Casper, Wyoming," Henry continued. "It's the closest airfield to the cemetery that has refueling capacity. As you can imagine, I'm not thrilled with Pops and Julia going to Wyoming but they've promised not to directly engage with Azazel. Instead, they'll manage the command center."
"Have you talked with Dean?"
"I spoke with him before coming to see you. His mind was blown at the thought of a private jet."
"I don't think that's the only cause. He has a phobia about flying."
Henry chuckled. "So that's why he said, 'Whatever it takes.' We'll have a full plane. Bobby is coming. He'll stay with Julia and Graham to handle communications with hunters." Henry gave a brief shrug. "Just in case we don't succeed."
"Not something I want to think about, but they need to be prepared," Neal agreed. "What's the plan once we get to Wyoming?"
"Pops has arranged for the rental of a couple of large SUVs. Julia found a roadside motel on the outskirts of Casper that's not far from one of the churches. We'll set up there. We're in luck with the weather. No snow is forecast for the next several days."
Meaning the moon also wouldn't be obscured. Would that make any difference to Azazel? Neal doubted it. "Once we're there, we'll need to do a snatch and grab—snatch the Colt and grab Sam and Maia before Azazel sets his plan in motion," he said. Exactly how they'd manage that escaped him for the moment, but there was always a way. He glanced at his museum documents. He should slap a sticky note on them reading: To be continued once the Apocalypse is off the table.
He looked up to see Henry staring at his easel with a thoughtful expression on his face. Neal had placed a full-sized copy of Van Gogh's The Church at Auvers on it, hoping the image would inspire him. He recognized Henry's look. It was the same expression he had when he'd just figured out how to beat Neal at chess.
"Is the church giving you ideas?" Neal asked.
He nodded. "That painting seems a little spooky to me, like there may be ghosts haunting it."
"You're not normally a fan of Casper and his kin."
Henry smiled. "I could make an exception."
#
"What do you think about Henry's idea?" Neal asked Sara. "Can we sell it?"
"It's so tempting, I'd like to think so," she said. "Our odds will be much better if Chloe has a spell to enhance the effect."
When she spotted Henry peering at her through the glass conference door, she knew something was up. A few seconds later, she got a text from him, directing her to Neal's office as soon as her meeting ended. This was a week she was particularly grateful for the experienced agents on her team. The insurance cases were all routine. They'd be able to handle them without her.
By the time she arrived, Henry had already left to begin preparations. As Neal told her what Henry had learned, her mind started flitting from one task to another.
Henry's plan was for her, Neal, Eric, and Chloe to go undercover as scouts for a projected movie. That would give them the excuse to nose about. Assuming they found Azazel, they'd keep him distracted while Henry and Dean prepared for a razzle-dazzle performance.
One of the largest obstacles would be finding the correct church. Quite possibly they'd need to split up into teams.
"We'll need to disguise our appearance," she warned. "Azazel may have seen us at the Mystery Mansion."
Neal nodded. "I used to not believe in wearing disguises, but lately they've become a necessity."
"We have carte blanche to rummage in the office's costume room, but I won't need to take many clothes. Everyone will be wearing heavy winter coats, pants, and stocking caps."
"I've already started on fake IDs. I have digital photos in my files. They shouldn't take much longer. Then we can go home."
"What look did you choose for yourself?" Sara asked.
"The Owen Wilson makeover Richard performed on me seems appropriate. I'll tone it down just in case Azazel is a fan. I don't want him to ask me for an autograph."
Sara exchanged smiles with him. She knew Neal was just as anxious as they all were about Sam and Maia, but he had the gift of lightening the atmosphere so they weren't overwhelmed. He and Mozzie were alike in that respect.
"Peter called me," Neal added. "He invited us to dinner with them on Saturday night." He shook his head regretfully. "I had to decline."
"What did you tell him?"
"That we were working a joint case and would be in Wyoming on Saturday. He then asked if we'd be back by Sunday night." He exhaled. "I wish we knew. We left it that I'd give him a call on Sunday morning."
"Was it difficult not telling him?"
He nodded. "But I'm glad he's spared the worry. Oh, he told me to check for the blood moon overhead on Saturday night. He said the view in Wyoming should be spectacular."
If he only knew.
#
Chloe stared at the plane as it taxied to the boarding area. Henry had told her Win-Win had a contract with a private jet service to provide jets on demand.
She was glad to see Dean look outwardly calm. That hadn't been the case earlier in the day. She'd finally gotten him to take an herbal preparation to relax. Neither one of them had slept the previous night. She'd spent the time combing through the grimoires for anything that would give them an advantage. She and Maia had spent months translating and cataloging the spells. Many of them were what Dean would label dark magic. One of them could provide the answer to their present challenge.
She reviewed her list once more, checking that she hadn't forgotten anything. Maia's assistant at the bookstore loved animals. She'd agreed to take care of Tatyana and Daphne while they were gone. Bobby's bag bristled with a collection of cell phones he used to communicate with hunters. Dean was using solid golf bags to carry his weapons.
Dean flashed a brief, stressed smile at Chloe when the plane door opened. "The return trip with Sam and Maia is going to be so much more enjoyable."
Henry exited first. Neal and Eric were right behind him and helped stow their bags. Julia, Graham, and Sara were waiting for them inside the aircraft. The jet accommodated twelve passengers. Chloe couldn't begin to imagine how much it cost but she assumed it was astronomical. They had both a pilot and co-pilot for the cross-country trip. But when it came down to it, it didn't matter if they flew by broomstick or were teleported by magic. They needed to get the job done.
After boarding, Dean headed straight for Graham and Julia. "Thank you for arranging this. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't know where Sam and Maia are, and even if we did, we wouldn't be able to get to them in time. I want you to know that I'll pay you back." He shrugged awkwardly. "It may take a little while."
"Did you forget Julia and I are volunteering our services?" Graham growled. "This is part of the package deal, and if we can help prevent the Apocalypse, I'll call it the best bargain we ever made."
Dean didn't blush often but he turned red at Graham's words. "I don't know how to—"
Graham stopped him in his tracks. "The way we see it, we're just taking care of the family business. So grab a seat and get comfortable."
Neal, Henry, and Sara had the right attitude. They fell asleep shortly after leaving. There was no way Dean could sleep but Eric helped to distract him by asking questions about witchcraft in Central America. Surprisingly, Henry's husband seemed quite knowledgeable on the subject.
Graham and Bobby were chatting quietly in the forward section of the jet. Chloe couldn't settle down. Her mind spun with spell options. She wished Dean had let her practice dark magic. Then she'd feel more confident.
Julia beckoned her over. "I can't sleep on planes either. Henry mentioned you'd prepared some spells. Can you tell me about them?"
Chloe took a seat beside her. "Maia and I created a spell repellent. Neal, Henry, Sara, Dean, and Eric will all use it."
Julia's brow furrowed. "You think Azazel will try to cast a spell on them?"
"No, but I will." Julia's look of surprise lifted her spirits. Hopefully, Azazel wouldn't expect the maneuver either. "For the rescue attempt, I'll use an obscurant spell to make the church appear to be filled with fog. Thanks to the spell repellent, anyone wearing it won't be affected. We hope the fog will keep Azazel from being able to track our movements."
"Clever. I wish I could be there to see it."
"I'll give you a demonstration in the motel room," Chloe promised. "I also brought along banishment oil. Dean hopes he can kill Azazel with the Colt, but if something goes wrong, we may still be able to banish him back to Hell. Chronos and Dolos could also be factors."
Julia's eyebrows knitted together. "I understand about Chronos, but not Dolos. Isn't he the trickster god you banished in Scotts Bluff?"
"Yes, he's a cousin to Thanatos and Astrena."
"Why do you think he could be involved?"
"Dean and I have puzzled over how Azazel could force Sam to open the portal to Hell. We're convinced he would never do it, not even to save Maia. She's so remorseful, I bet she'd willingly sacrifice herself."
Julia's expression grew troubled. "Then if Azazel tried to threaten her, she might end matters on her own?"
Chloe nodded. "She'd somehow take herself out of the picture so Sam won't feel pressured. We already know Azazel has Chronos as an ally, but Chronos can't control behavior. The only one we know of who can influence how people act is Dolos."
"But I thought you banished him?"
Chloe winced. "So did we. Maia and I have speculated that a spell might be able to reverse the banishment. Crowley told us that Astrena believed Thanatos was in communication with Dolos. Supposedly Thanatos can make spells as well as Astrena. In Oblivion, he has access to orchids as well as mushrooms unavailable on Earth. They could be used to create powerful potions we know nothing about."
"Chronos and Thanatos are allies of Dolos, so it's reasonable to think all three would act in concert, but it's difficult for me to believe that Lucifer would cooperate with Greek gods," Julia said. "I've tended to segregate the deities of various beliefs. It's conceivable they all exist, but mingling the belief systems becomes terribly messy."
"Tell me about it," Chloe agreed. "Crowley isn't bothered by it, though, and he should know. He makes it sound like the various deities are rulers of different countries. They can form alliances or wage war against each other. And there can also be civil insurrections. It was because of one such insurrection that Lucifer was placed into a cage."
"I'd love to sit down with Crowley someday," Julia said. "Do you think he'd agree to it?"
Chloe chuckled. "He'd probably revel in it, especially if you provided him with Glencraig. You're a Brit. You have the inside track on the British Men of Letters. He'd be fascinated by you." She hesitated. "And you'll soon get a chance to ask him for yourself."
Julia's eyes widened. "Will he be in Wyoming?"
"He's meeting us at the hotel. Crowley searched for a way to pinpoint Azazel's location and believes he found it. He was very mysterious about what it is, but I'm convinced he's sincere. Crowley is just as eager as the rest of us to prevent the Apocalypse. He hasn't concealed his dislike of Lucifer and Azazel, but the biggest factor is his desire to rescue Maia and Sam. He's much fonder of them—and us—than he'd ever admit."
Chloe hoped she was reading him correctly. Why else had he insisted on coming to their Halloween party even when they made him wear a costume?
"You may have already met Crowley," she added.
Julia stared at her, shocked. "Wouldn't I have known?"
"Not necessarily. He was at Neal and Sara's wedding, disguised as Maurice Chevalier."
A flash of recognition crossed Julia's face. "I do remember him! He introduced himself as an artist and was curious about my background. He seemed particularly interested when I mentioned I was Graham's wife. As I recall, that was when Bobby walked over and joined the conversation." She chuckled. "Now I know why."
Notes: I enjoyed researching Samuel Colt for this story. Dean thinks Samuel would make an awesome subject for another time-travel adventure.