Thanks his Coastie buddy, Stone had the mooring for a speedboat with the Hull Identification Number, or HIN, CF 1495 AB. California-registered boats were required to have them affixed in such a way as vandalism, alteration, or removal would be obvious. From the cards Fox picked off the familiars, Stone cross-referenced the speedboat with the registration RH 6889 FM to find the HIN attached to an Isaac Hobbes.
Hobbes – mid-thirties, prematurely graying and saggy about the midsection – had found himself a young woman with bobbed blonde hair. Using his binoculars, Stone had caught their whole encounter, from the wake of the speedboat knocking the girl off her kite board, to Hobbes giving her a ride in, to the girl climbing in the backseat of the black SUV with tinted windows. Following it had not been easy, and Stone had just about exhausted his options of curvy trails to cut across their path instead of directly following them when his cell phone rang.
"Stone."
"Jesus, man, you will not believe what I have for you."
"I'm a bit busy, Gidge."
"Where are you?"
"Over in Marin. Caught up with one of the Good Samaritans fishing boarders out of the Bay."
"Man, you don't know what you're missing!" Gidge squealed. It gave Stone pause. Gidge never got excited about anything that didn't involve bytes, bits, pixels, or RAM.
"You want to share with me?" He looked ahead of him, added, "Gidge, I've got a plate for you that might help." He read it off the alphanumeric from the SUV ahead of him. "It's a corporate tag, too. This might be the break we're looking for."
"In a second, in a second," Gidge whined, and now Stone knew something was seriously weird. Gidge never missed an opportunity to rape the DMV databases either. "You won't believe who's back at the base!"
"King?" He'd been out for nearly a couple of days now. While the cool chica he worked with didn't seem to sweat it, Stone didn't take it as a good sign.
"Nope."
"Santa Claus."
"Better."
"Jesus."
"Better!" Gidge hissed. "It's him, Stone!"
"Madre de Dios!" Stone shouted to himself, punching the ceiling of his jeep. That was worth getting excited about. "You sure?"
"I talked to him." Gidge did sound like he'd met Jesus. "I don't want to say anything else over the phone." There followed a brief interval in which he could hear Gidge's fingers working their magic, plying information out of secure electronic holding pens and into Gidge's lap. "I got an address for that plate. You want it?"
"Yeah," he said, switching the phone to his left ear while he punched in the direction into his OnStar. He looked over the direct route the positioning system charted for him. That was deep into middle-of-nowhere territory. "Gidge, I've got good news."
"We could use some. Not that the big guy being around is bad news, but…" Gidge burbled happily.
"You sure this address is legit?"
"Duh-uh. That truck's listed as a corporate transport for Biomedica Industries."
"You're shitting me. They gave a real address to register their car?"
"Better than lying to the DMV. The government frowns on that sort of thing, you know. And they don't register to P.O. Boxes."
"But Uncle Sam ain't the one who's gonna come looking for vampires." Stone glanced away from the road. The SUV went straight through a light in front of him, and he flicked his blinker on, turning right to catch up with them via a shortcut. So far, it was heading in the right direction for the address Gidge gave him.
"I'm staying with this guy."
"If it goes to the plant, keep driving man. They know you guys are around, it's probably pretty heavily guarded."
"Wait a minute," Stone frowned. "They know we're here? Since when?"
"Sorry, forgot to mention that," Gidge said, apologetically, "They've made Fox."
"Damn," Stone ground his teeth. "Where is she?"
"She's not picking up. That's why I called you, actually, to see if you could call her in. I already tried Alyssa and Whistler, but they didn't answer either. Fox is out in the city, downtown."
"Damn her," Stone muttered. Fox would be after the familiars, attacking them when they were unawares. All it took was one of them to be forewarned and set her up. "I'm getting off the trail," he told Gidge, and, with some reluctance, used the OnStar to find the quickest way back to the Golden Gate and the city. It hurt to give up the pursuit, to put the life of that perky little number that Hobbes had picked up in jeopardy, but Fox was more important. He could only hope that when he got back to the plant - if that was where she was headed - there would be a way to save her.
Gidge didn't challenge this course of action. "What about the plant?"
"If it's going to be guarded, I'll need help. I don't want them following me, neither."
"You're going back for Fox?"
"She's my partner, Gidge. She can't fight worth shit, and she's exposed. There's no sense in letting her getting herself killed. We'll need her, and I owe her one anyway."
And he did. She had gotten him back into the business of making a difference through royally kicking ass, the very reason he'd enlisted in the SEAL program in the first place. He could not let her need for revenge on this Feliar person destroy her.
"I'll give you her location. What about, you know, him?"
"What about him?"
"Don't you want to meet him?"
"Already have, Gidge. He saved my life. But Fox has, too. I want to return the favor for her at least."
"I'll let Caulder and Alyssa know you've got her."
"You do that." As the whirlwind of new information settled in his brain, some firm logical bridges closed the gaps. "You know Whistler's behind this."
"Behind what?"
"Blade's being in town."
"So?"
"So why didn't she say anything to us?"
"In case you hadn't noticed, Stone, the new guys don't exactly play well with others. Maybe you've been in the water too long and missed it, but that's the impression I got."
"Whatever, I'll chew her out later. Give me Fox's location."
"She's over by SF State's main campus. Brotherhood Way."
"Wait a minute," Stone said, working it out. "That's awful close to the convention center."
"But it's across the city from the Ritz-Carlton where Feliar's staying."
"She's definitely there?" Stone was incredulous. Surely, the woman wouldn't be that obvious. Not with the purebloods arriving in another day and the conference in three?
"King called this morning to say that's where he was. He was still there a little while ago when he rang back."
"You talked to him?"
"Yeah, 's how I know they found Fox. He got all snippy at me about making sure I got her off the street." Stone ignored this, focusing solely on the fact that King was alive. If he'd lasted three days and not wound up as food, he'd probably managed to fool the woman completely. Not bad.
"I'm going for Fox. We'll be back as soon as I'm sure we're not being followed." Stone hung up and punched the speed-dial for Fox's cell phone.
"Stone," she answered, coolly.
"Whatever you're doing, get the shit out of there. Buy a few cabs and meet me by Golden Gate Park."
"Stone," she groused, "I'm shopping."
"Well, your ass is grounded, as of right now."
"What do you mean?" She didn't sound convinced, but she dropped the overt hostility.
"Gidge says you've been spotted."
Fox didn't speak for long enough that he was sure she'd hung up. He checked his phone, but the call was still connected.
"Fox?"
"I see," she said without inflection.
"Fox, you need to drop what you're doing, right now."
"Abby told me as much this morning. But you can relax, Eli. They haven't made me for sure yet." Fox's breathy laughter made him shudder. "Well, at least none as have lived to tell about it. I'll go home after this last one, I swear."
"It'll be your last if they're wise to you. You might already have a tail." Paranoia seized his gut, and he checked the rearview, tracking the trajectories of cars behind him long enough to rule out his possibly having his own shadow.
"He's been all over the convention center arena. I've seen him talking to some seriously foreign looking dudes. He might be the contact for the vampires arriving tomorrow."
"Forget it," Stone urged. Was that light blue sedan making the same turn as him again? No, it wasn't, and he was still in the clear. He should never have followed the SUV trailing Hobbes' boat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Fox, listen to me, this familiar…he could be setting you up."
"That's fine," she said, breezily. "If he takes me to her, I don't have to be even half alive to be able to kill her."
Her confidant, crazed words stunned him to silence for a long beat.
"Fox..."
"Listen to me, little brother," she soothed him, her tone venomous and coiled. "I'm not strong, I know. She'll kill me, and I know that, too. But I have the power of the dead on my side. And they do not forget, do not weaken."
"Fox, I know this spirit stuff is important to you--"
"You know nothing of it!" She hissed, panting into the phone. "You pretend it's cute. Like your Christian God is the be-all, end-all, and I'm wasting my time on the energies of my people, my family."
He listened to her breathe deeply, and when next she spoke, her reserve had returned.
"I may not be the most religious of the Hopi, Stone, but I had a duty to those girls. I didn't protect them in life as I should have. With their help, I can at least avenge their death's on that bitch's head."
He should have seen this coming. The ways of her people were such that, when a couple had a child, the father's family cared for and had specific obligations towards the mother and child.1 Fox had entered medical school to protect her nieces when their mother died shortly after giving birth. It was no accident that Fox studied medicine with the intent of being a pediatrician; her life would be devoted to the girls whose mother could not have been saved. Why was he surprised her dedication carried this far?
"You won't be able to avenge them if you're dead," he attempted, lamely, to reason with her.
"And I told you, they will be with me. There is nothing that can harm me. I have seen the katsinam," she whispered.
Katsinam2 were spirit messengers, usually ones bringing good tidings, which, back in New Mexico, would mean rain, successful crops, relief from suffering, and the like. For Fox, in secular San Francisco, it meant she would at last put to rest her duty. How the hell could he argue that with her?
"Fox, please. Reconsider. The katsinam might have been warning you." They did that, too, warned the Hopi people of the consequences of bad behavior. Like this, like running off to get killed and leaving business unresolved.
Fox hesitated, and he could picture the fire simmering down into a low smolder in her sharp, coal-black eyes. "Perhaps you are right."
Thank you, Jesus, katsinam, whoever. "It means we're close," he reassured her. "That it came to you means we're close, Fox."
"Yes, it does," she said, absently.
"Get out of the area. I'll pick you up on the north end of the park, Fulton and Fourteenth."
"Stone."
"Yes?"
"If you are wrong about this," she purred, her tone steely and sure. "If you have made me doubt what I've seen, and I miss this chance..."
"I know," he conceded. "Get to the park. Take your time." She hung up on him, and he relaxed into his seat after, without noticing, having sat up straighter since she started in on the whole katsinam business.
If he were wrong, his hundred extra pounds on her would mean nothing; she would find a way to kill him. It wasn't personal, and it had happened before. Her fiancé, a close friend of her brother, had sworn to help her capture Feliar back in New Mexico. This man, this beloved, had held her up at a critical moment, and Feliar had slipped away; because of him, Fox was still waiting for her chance to kill the woman.
"What happened to him?" he'd wanted to know.
"I put foxglove in his coffee and left town."
And that was that. He would have to start watching what he put in his mouth more carefully, if he turned out to be wrong.
The drive back into the city was short, the traffic light on the Marin-to-San Francisco side because of the hour; the rush was to get out of the city, not into it. Stone drove along Fulton past Fourteenth Street three times before Fox appeared, emerging from a cab two blocks away.
Cautiously, he turned around and doubled back down Fulton, driving eastward to the ocean, watching her from across the street. He'd gotten the timing of the lights down and found himself at a red right exactly on Fourteenth. Nonchalantly, he leaned his head against his fist, elbow on the open window frame, casually glancing around and trying to catch his partner's eye across the street while he waited for his green.
Fox stared past him, and, ever-so-indifferently, Stone followed her gaze. Two men walked in front of traffic, dodging around the cars turning at the light. Both were holding sidearms down and low. He sat up in his seat, switching his left foot to the break and tensing his right about the gas, ready for action. If he timed it right, he could pull a one-eighty as the opposing light turned yellow and grab Fox before the men reached her.
But it was Fox herself who stopped him. About to signal her, he froze. She held up her hands, elbows bent at ninety degrees and arms out from her sides as the men raised their weapons. She shook her head at him. Don't risk it, she was saying, just as one man put on a sprint and needlessly tackled her to the grass. Having given herself up, she fell, barely able to catch herself.
Blaring horns startled all the drivers of the cars at the front of queue who'd probably also been watching the takedown in the park. Stone had to force himself to drive off, one hand already punching in a speed-dial on his cell. It didn't matter who answered – Gidge, Alyssa, Caulder, the kid – he had to warn them. If Fox was exposed, they all might be.
Alyssa answered; he had dialed her cell. "Stone, Jesus, you won't believe..."
"Never mind!" He hollered, frantically dodging around traffic, making circles over circles, doubling back but always staying at least two blocks from the park. "They've got Fox!"
"Are you safe?"
Alyssa, he realized, was probably the best person he could have called. Her priorities were always in order. They'd lost Fox. Retrieving her came second to assuring his freedom and safety.
"Shit," Stone swore, checking his rearview mirrors. "They just grabbed her outside the park, guns and everything, the brazen little fuckers!"
"Eli, are you safe?"
"I think so. I'm going to drive for a little while until I'm sure."
"Get out to the highway. Anyone following you on Route One, you'll be able to see."
This is was good advice, some part of his brain told him. Most of the rest of him still railed against his own stupidity. He should have picked her up earlier, should have warned her, if only Gidge had gotten through to her or Alyssa...
No. No time for that. Follow Alyssa's instructions, she could keep her head, and she was right. The good of the whole, that's what mattered. One man down they could survive, even if he didn't like it. Risking the rest for one was not an option. His training returned to him, and he calmed.
"I'm going to be a while. Fuck," he said for good measure. He had not even begun to get truly angry. This was still just shock and adrenaline. When he was safe, if he could be, then he would be good and angry.
"I'll have Gidge following her tracker the whole time, okay?" Alyssa promised over the phone, his lifeline to sanity. "We'll know where they're taking her by the time you get back."
"She might be dead by then," Stone ground his teeth together. He owed her, and he had failed her. He might not believe in the cosmic forces she did, but he did believe in balance, in honor - no debt unpaid, that was how he lived.
"They won't kill her. Feliar wouldn't do that."
"Why not?" Fox scared the crap out him, scared the crap out of this Feliar so bad the woman, even as a vampire, had hidden herself from Fox for this long. If he were in the suck-bitch's place, he wouldn't hesitate to eliminate a threat like Fox.
"Because, Eli, they like to play," Alyssa spat out the words with disgust, her tone off and embittered. "You know how they operate. They like to gloat. Feliar will keep her alive long enough for us to get her back. You know she will and we will."
"It's a stupid move for her to make."
"So was staying at the hotel. So was taking in King."
"Yeah," Stone blinked, and suddenly his mind was sharp, light and hopeful. "King. Get him on the line. Tell him Fox might be showing up. Tell him to get her out of there."
"That could blow his cover, Eli."
"If he lets her die, I'll blow his goddamned head off!" He was pounding the wheel now. This was still only just anger building. When it exploded, someone or thing would die; he had to concentrate doubly hard on checking for tails so that the someone wouldn't be him.
"Get back here safe, Eli," Alyssa murmured. "We'll figure this out."
"Don't let her die," Stone growled. That was his partner, damn it! And he could not let her die! For a crystalline instant, he touched the pure insanity Fox possessed, not caring what the cost so long as he got what he wanted. The realization sent him crashing, shaking with dispossessed rage. He couldn't go the way Fox had. It's why she was caught and he wasn't. Could. Not. Give. In. That's what they taught you as a SEAL: it wasn't that shit with the 'Army of One' and the fucking Rangers. It was the mission made the man; if the man fell out of the mission, the mission went on without him.
Alyssa was calling his name. "Eli?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Be safe. Get back here when you can. I promise, no one else is going to die."
Alyssa's melancholy unnerved him, competing with fury and shame for his attention and winning.
"What do you mean? Who else is dead?"
Flatly, Alyssa said, "We'll discuss it when you get back."
"Fine."
Agitated, furious, anxious, Stone dropped the phone instead of hanging up. It was one more distraction he couldn't afford. He prayed, whispering in his heart and then aloud: be safe, get back, save Fox. Be safe. Get back. Save Fox. If only his God could send a messenger the way Fox's did, to let him know whether his prayer would be answered.
1. This information about the Hopi people came courtesy of their very informative website, located at http/www.hopi.nsn.us/default.asp. The family of the mother is usually regarded as more closely related to the children of a marriage, as is common in many indigenous tribes of the Americas. However, the website made mention of this obligation to perform certain duties and extend particular care on the part of the father's family, which really fit in well with the back story I made for Fox.
2. Also, on the same website, the Hopi people describe their ritual katsina dances, and the katsinam in brief. I pray that they forgive me for doing such rudimentary investigation into their rich culture and heritage. I hereby state I mean absolutely no disrespect to them or any peoples with this story. For the sake of fanfiction, I have not felt obligated to delve too deeply into their culture or do as much research as I might, say, for a novel. However, that does not exempt me from my personal moral imperative not to misrepresent or assume things about the histories of others. If there is a problem with my representation, I am perfectly willing to do a rewrite, and interested/offended parties are within their rights to contact me (due to formating issues, I cannot post my e-mail in this story; please use the author information page to obtain it).