Chapter Six: Evacuate the Building!

Wordy and Lou, more used to working around magic than the Americans, were on their feet and moving seconds after the Lady rescued the spies and attacked the offending Neo Death Eater. Although they'd both heard the man's neck break, protocol was clear. And while Wordy was reasonably sure that the Lady would've dealt with any other Death Munchers in the area, taking chances was not on the agenda. Not anymore.

Lou managed to reach their target half a second before Wordy and both men experienced an instant of frustration when they realized they had neither weapons nor flex cuffs. Wordy hovered while his teammate knelt, feeling for a pulse. After a moment, he shook his head, glancing up at his team leader.

Wordy grimaced, both for the death and the order he was about to give. "Search him."

There was a flash of dismay, then Lou nodded once and briskly went through the dead man's robes. The work was slow and cautious, both officers wary of a possible Portkey and painfully aware they had nothing to block Portkeys from working. Partway through, Wordy sensed he wasn't alone and glanced down, brows rising at the sight of Lady, her whole form glowing a subtle silver. A darker hue swirled across her fur periodically and the constable's eyes widened as he realized the Obscurus was using her magic.

'No bad men come,' Lady informed them, mental voice fierce. 'Bad magic not take you away.'

Lou paused, glancing up. "Any Portkeys won't work?"

The Obscurus nodded. 'Not think…' She paused, tilting her head before starting again. 'I don't think he has any.'

Wordy kept his surprise to himself. When Lady had been speaking with them earlier, her sentences had been clear with good grammar. Why the sudden change?

Although he hadn't said anything, Lady tilted her head further to the side, one piercing blue eye meeting his. 'You give.'

'We give?' Lou echoed, confusion ringing.

The wolf inclined her muzzle. 'Can sense… I can hear you thinking. Clearer than String and Dom and new pilot… Cait…'

Wordy squirmed internally, automatically pulling his mental defenses into place.

Lady jerked, casting him and then Lou askance glares. 'You…hide from Airwolf?'

'Stay outta my head,' Wordy retorted. Then he glanced away, reminding himself that for all the Obscurus' power, she had very little idea of how to interact with humans. Taking a deep breath, he swung back to her. 'Look, Lady. Most people, even those who know about magic, they don't worry about their minds getting read. Our thoughts are…personal. Just for us. To read someone's mind…it's like walking in while they're getting dressed. You don't do that, do you?'

'Wordy's right,' Lou concurred. 'It's called a reasonable expectation of privacy.'

The wolf whined. 'How Airwolf learn, then?'

'Can you talk to them like you're talking to us?' Wordy asked. 'Lou, anything?'

'Nothing so far,' the less-lethal specialist replied. 'How are we even talking like this anyway? Sarge is…'

Wordy flinched, just as bewildered as Lou and just as unable to really, truly say the word. 'Maybe Lady turned it back on?' he offered.

'Not have to,' Lady protested. 'Not Airwolf's fault you not see truth.'

What truth? Wordy didn't ask, though. He had a feeling the Obscurus didn't really understand that dead meant gone and never coming back. 'Lady. Can you talk to your friends like you're talking to us?'

The Obscurus considered, watching Lou rifle through the dead wizard's robes. 'Not sure,' she admitted. 'Airwolf never try.' She sidled back and forth. 'You…your thoughts called. Dark, hurting, like Airwolf.' A pause. 'And Airwolf curious.'

'About McKean,' Wordy filled in dryly. 'You called yourself Lady before, but now you're using Airwolf.'

The wolf let out another whine, almost, but not quite, laying down. 'Am Lady. Am…Airwolf. String use both; Dom use Lady. Cait use Airwolf.'

Poor kid. The brunet frowned. 'Which one do you want to use?'

'Don't know,' the Obscurus admitted. 'Like both.' Another pause. 'Archangel say thank you. Called me Airwolf.' She perked up. 'Marella pet.'

Wordy rubbed his mouth to cover his smile. Just like Lance and…and Sarge. They both enjoyed being petted while in their Animagus forms, though heaven help you if you tried that while they were human.

Then Lou let out a soft crow and pulled a sheaf of parchment from an inner pocket in the Neo Death Eater's robes. "Got something!"

"Good job, buddy," Wordy enthused, moving to peer over his teammate's shoulder. He frowned as he scanned the page. Shifting, he subtly pointed to one area. "Is that…"

"Yeah, man. Looks like an address."

The brunet's frown grew deeper. "We're gonna have to look that up."

"Maybe not," Lou disagreed. Glancing to the patient Obscurus, he added, "Lady, if I give you this address, think you can look it up?"

'Airwolf try.'

"That's all we can ask," Wordy reassured her.

Wolf ears pricked and Lou read off the address on the parchment. For a minute, the trio was silent, then Lady growled. 'Is place for lots of families. Sleep, live, eat.'

"An apartment complex?" Wordy hissed, horror streaking through him.

'Airwolf think so.'

The constables traded glances, then straightened. "Okay, let's get back," Wordy decided.

"Wordy…if they set that bomb off in an apartment complex…"

"Lou, I hear you. Even if we can evacuate in time…" The brunet shook his head. "No, stop. One step at a time." He pinned his friend with his eyes. "Lou, listen to me. We are going to stop this thing and get them back. We have to. Just keep believing that and we'll be okay."

"Copy."


Years of experience, hundreds – if not thousands – of missions under his belt, an inveterate survivor of more attempted assassinations than he cared to count, and he'd nearly died to a spell. To something he would have scorned and jeered at only an hour ago. Michael Coldsmith Briggs the Third was aware that he was shaking, but he couldn't seem to stop, no matter how weak that made him appear.

The spy removed his trenchcoat, spreading it over Marella's shoulders – his Angel was trembling worse than he was. For a moment, his hands didn't want to release her, but Archangel forced them to open and forced himself to turn to Airwolf's three ghost-pale pilots. At least he wasn't the only one in shock.

Against his will, his mind replayed those instants. The yell from the ground – a warning, he was sure of it – a wolf's howl, and then that light, wrapping around himself and Marella right before the Firm helicopter exploded. It had felt like a child, clinging to the only family she had left, even if she'd only just met them. It had felt like wrath and fury, an avenging wraith more concerned with vengeance than justice.

Archangel glanced over his shoulder at the burning wreckage, then sternly shifted his attention back to Hawke, Santini, and O'Shannessy. It might've been a heck of a lot closer than he might have wished, but he'd survived and now…now he wanted a target. Someone to express his displeasure to, in person, preferably with an Uzi. The spy's practiced mask dropped into place. "It seems we'll be accompanying you, Hawke."

Hawke's expression assumed its usual granite, outwardly unconcerned with his nominal boss's near death. "Yeah."

Footsteps crunched in the forest's underbrush. "We've got a location," Constable Wordsworth announced.

"Where?" Archangel demanded, shifting to face the two men. Absently, he noted the ghostly, yet solid winged wolf trailing them.

Young's expression tightened and he held out an old-fashioned yellowed paper with a browning border…no, it was parchment. Surprised all over again, the spy took the parchment, frowning absently at the address on it. He glanced up when the constable said, "Lady already looked it up; it's an apartment complex."

"They're going to bomb an apartment complex?" Cait cried, utterly appalled.

Wordsworth shook his head, grim. "They don't care," he replied bluntly. "What they want is a big bang and to ruin our team's reputation, just like Moffet tried."

"Explain," Marella ordered before her boss could. Her voice was thin with the last of her shock, but her gaze was steady and her chin lifted in challenge.

The brunet constable huffed, but nodded. "Okay, this is the really short version, understand?"

"Continue," Archangel murmured, tilting his head to accept the caveat.

"Like we said before, wizards don't care about anyone who doesn't have magic. Or doesn't have enough magic." The big man paused. "And when I say, 'don't care', I mean most of 'em wouldn't give someone who isn't magical the time of day."

"Harsh, Word."

"Who here got arrested and put on trial for not having magic, huh?"

Archangel's eyes widened, particularly when the tan-skinned constable looked away, silently conceding the argument.

"So, five years ago, our team found out about magic being real and we basically talked their law enforcement guys into letting us keep our memories. In return, we'd help them out every so often with our skill set."

Ahhh. "You would be to them what you are to the rest of Toronto," Archangel mused. "But that would require regular interaction with the magical world, would it not?"

"Yes," Constable Young confirmed. "Started slow, but we've got a really good reputation now, even though we don't have magic." He scowled. "Moffet didn't like that; that's why he framed us for two prison breakouts."

"And now his goons are trying the same thing, only this time, they're making sure our team can't wriggle out of it."

Cait sucked in a breath. "Because they really will have done it."

The constables nodded. Archangel frowned, letting the facts swirl around him. The short version, indeed, and yet, he understood perfectly. There was no time for more. He heard a hiss and shifted, arching one eyebrow at the open helicopter door. "Getting rather crowded, don't you think, Hawke?"

Steel blue flicked back. "No choice, Michael. We're gonna have firefighters here before too long with that fire."

Archangel winced at the reminder and inclined his chin, stepping forward towards the helicopter. Although it was, indeed, a very tight fit, all of them managed to cram inside the sleek stealth chopper before Airwolf lifted off and left the burning Firm 'copter behind. Once safely away, Archangel shared his hasty plan.


Less than an hour after a Neo Death Eater attempted to murder Deputy Director Briggs, he and Marella marched into the precinct closest to the apartment complex, wielding their authority to rally the officers and evacuate the complex. Archangel also talked the precinct captain out of calling the SRU, ominously citing 'national security concerns' that necessitated leaving Toronto's cavalry out of the loop. Despite the story being complete, utter nonsense, Archangel sold it with a salesman's smile and a not-so-subtle threat to take the poor police captain's badge. Marella backed up her boss's bluff when she pulled out her phone and calmly asked if she should call the Police Commissioner after the cop instinctively objected to the threat.


In the meantime, Airwolf and her crew shot through the sky towards the apartment complex, ready, willing, and able to use their helicopter's Obscurus against the Neo Death Eaters who'd once harnessed her power for their own selfish ambitions.

Lady, with a little help from Wordy and Lou, had managed to forge temporary mental links with her crew, allowing her to speak with them, though she couldn't read their minds. The Obscurus indicated her willingness to help her crew stop the dark wizards, though she was fearful of falling back into her former destructive nature.

Dom, however, already had a plan – despite not wanting to get involved with the Canadian magical world, he'd had a sneaking suspicion it was inevitable. He offered to let the Obscurus use him as an emotional and mental anchor, hoping that his steady calm and nature would keep her from reverting to a force of dark chaos. It was, perhaps, for the best that by the time Dom proposed his course of action, the Firm agents and the Toronto constables had already been dropped off. Though unsure if Dom's plan would work, Lady agreed and let her magic burrow into the old man. String and Cait traded unnerved glances, unable to help but worry about the potential consequences to two people they cared about.

With Dom anchoring the Lady, Airwolf's purely magical abilities were brought to bear, allowing the stealth chopper and her crew to force back the Neo Death Eaters controlling Team One. Rather than lashing out with her full might, the Lady alternated between a magical version of her chain guns and a silvery shield that caught every curse the dark wizards cast, slowly forcing them away from their victims and the apartment complex. The Imperius remained in place, but with the Neo Death Eaters on the defensive, the last two Team One constables had a shot at stopping the bombing and freeing their teammates.


Wordy and Lou traded looks as they stepped inside the apartment complex's leasing office. Ahead of them, both men could see Spike busily setting up the same bomb they'd seen in the Neo Death Eater hideout. To their surprise, there was no one else inside the leasing office, though some office doors stood open, as if their occupants had been ordered to leave.

Soft, the brunet murmured, "Spike must've kicked them out."

"Yeah, man," Lou agreed. He glanced down at Sam's smartphone. "They're all here, but…"

"Where?"

"Up?" Lou suggested.

Wordy hummed, then nodded. "Good call. I see Sam and Jules, second floor."

"I got Spike," Lou said.

"Copy. Knock him out and disarm that thing," Wordy ordered. "I'll take out Sam; looks like he's got a rifle."

For one last precious second, the constables met each other's eyes, the glance itself as warm as a forearm grip or even a hug. United, standing together against the worst the Neo Death Eaters could throw at them. Failure wasn't an option, not with their family on the line.

Then Lou cleared his throat and said, "Let's keep the peace."


Lou waited until he caught a glimpse of Wordy on the second floor; at his team leader's high sign, he moved, striding forward towards Spike. Above him, Wordy closed with Sam, jumping the sniper before he could bring his rifle to bear on Lou. Spike was fussing over what looked like a timer, oblivious to his best friend's presence.

"Spike."

The raven's head came up, turning with a glazed look and a fake smile. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir," the bomb tech chirped. "We have a credible threat directed at this location, so please evacuate the building immediately."

The less-lethal specialist almost choked. Did the Neo Death Eaters know Spike had blown the whistle on his own bomb? Talk about finagling the Imperius. "Spike, you maniac," he whispered. "You built them a bomb, just like they told you to, but you're still in there. You're fighting them, just like Sam." Just like Wordy had fought to keep Lou free and clear of the curse. Any doubt that the resistance to the Imperius was coming from the Wild Magic vanished; Spike had no more native magic than he had.

A quick glance confirmed everything was set, though the timer had yet to begin its countdown. Lou's dark eyes narrowed and he reached out, grabbing Spike's arm. When the bomb tech turned, it was right into Lou's left hook. Spike staggered, then swung a punch of his own at his sudden opponent. Lou twisted, letting the fist fly past so he could grab Spike's overextended arm and wrench him forward, away from the bomb. In one smooth move, he sent Spike sprawling, whirling to put his back to the explosive.

Spike roared, coming up off the floor to spring for Lou's throat; he ran right into Lou's charge, the black haired constable ramming into his friend's chest, throwing him backwards and away from the explosive. The two men locked, each struggling to gain the upper hand, but Lou refused to give any ground. Slowly, determinedly, he pushed Spike backwards, putting more and more space between his mind-controlled teammate and the deadly bomb just waiting to be armed. Instinct whispered and he reared back, laying Spike flat with a haymaker. Stunned, the bomb tech was easy to drag away from the blasted explosive, towards a handy pillar. Next to the pillar, Lou punched his friend again, dismay and satisfaction running through him in equal measure as Spike slumped, unconscious.

Grim, the constable turned back towards the bomb. Time to disable it and end this nightmare. Before he could take a single step, a gunshot rang out.


Wordy made sure to close with Sam and Jules before the sniper could shoot Lou; although Sam had been able to finagle a few things past the curse, if he'd been given a direct order to kill anyone trying to stop Spike, he'd do it. Instead of opening with a punch, the team leader lunged for the rifle, yanking it sideways and away from its wielder.

A snarl curled Sam's lip and he fought back, wrestling to keep control of the rifle. Off to the side, Jules observed, expression disinterested and posture lax. In the back of Wordy's mind, he realized she'd just been ordered to be there. No other order had been given, but then, it didn't need to be. Her mere presence as well as her uniform ensured she would be charged with the bombing, same as the rest of Team One.

Well it wasn't happening. Not today, not on Wordy's watch. He shifted, getting inside Sam's guard to use his weight and leverage against the sniper's hold on the rifle. A sharp elbow into Sam's gut forced him to release the rifle; the blond snarled as he lost his grip, but Wordy gasped in pure relief and hurled the sniper rifle away from both of them. Then he turned and grabbed Sam in a vice grip, holding the sniper in place even as he kept himself between the blond and the rifle.

"Sam, where's Ed?" he demanded. "Come on, Sam, snap out of it. Where's Ed?"

Then a gunshot rang out, followed by a muffled boom as the bomb went off. Sam slumped, going boneless in Wordy's grasp; Jules observed with dead eyes and a lax, content expression. Horror flooded the team leader and he twisted, looking up towards the third floor. On the third floor balcony, Ed was lowering his sniper rifle, expression blank and eyes glazed over. There was a beat as their eyes seemed to meet.

Then a second explosion echoed through the building and Wordy felt the shockwave hit him, sending them all flying.


"Wordy!"

Wordy groaned, struggling back towards consciousness. That…that had been Jules… Why…why was he surprised…?

"Wordy, wake up!" Jules pleaded. "Please, wake up. You have to wake up! Come on, Wordy, don't leave us hanging."

What…why did she sound so…desperate… Gray blinked open, straining to focus. Sirens…sirens and a rushing sound. Like…like fire… Fire!

All at once, he remembered. He remembered and he snapped back to full awareness. Vision resolved into two figures. Jules against a wall a meter away from himself, down on the ground and one leg at an angle that looked wrong. Sam lay right next to him, awake, but when Wordy glanced at the sniper, he saw immediately that his eyes were unfocused and dazed, with uneven pupils. Concussion. Then he saw Sam's radio.

"Jules," he mumbled, struggling to push himself up, get his own head together. "What channel?"

He and Lou had gotten backup radios from the safe house, along with their armor, but they'd decided against using the radios, afraid of just this scenario. Team One, in full gear, complete with radios. Fortunately, they'd brought them, just in case; Wordy had a feeling they were gonna need them.

"Four," Jules reported. "Wordy…my leg…"

"It's broken," Wordy finished for her, finally making it back to his feet. One hand touched his own radio, set to channel two. "Lou, report in!"

For a horrifying heartbeat, there was silence, then, "No harm, Word."

"That much shrapnel and no harm?" Wordy blurted, even as he carefully coaxed Sam back to his feet, guiding the dazed man to Jules' side. He was good, but he couldn't carry both of them. In the back of his mind, he refused to think about how he and his teammates had survived the bomb, never mind the shrapnel.

"Wordy, man, there wasn't any shrapnel."

"But we saw Ed buy it," Wordy protested automatically.

A hoarse, rasping laugh from Lou. "Spike didn't use it. And he kicked everyone out before he set that thing up."

He'd already known that Sam was fighting the curse, but it had simply never occurred to him that any of the others could fight it. But plainly, despite whatever efforts Spike had made, the bomb had gone off and they were at ground zero. And the building was on fire. "Lou," he managed, right before a coughing fit hit him. "Channel four. Switching in ten and I'm bringing Sam and Jules down."

"Copy," Lou acknowledged.

Wordy reached down, switching his radio channel. "Ed, can you hear me?" As he spoke, he shifted to a partial crouch and swung Jules up in a fireman style carry. She grabbed onto him, bracing against his neck and shoulders instead of letting herself flop down. "Come on, Sam, let's go," the team leader added. "Stairs."

"C…copy," Sam slurred, struggling to stay upright and conscious.

"Sam, look at me," Jules ordered. When he obeyed, she coached, "Sam, grab onto Wordy." He moaned, one hand coming up to cradle his head. "Come on, Sam. You can do it."

It took another moment, but Sam latched onto Wordy's armor, curling his hand around it in a near vice grip. Wordy waited for him to get a good grip, then started edging towards the stairs. "Ed, talk to me, buddy."

There was a rasping cough, then, in a hoarse whisper, Ed said, "Wordy, that you?"

"Yeah, buddy," Wordy replied. "Me 'n' Lou are here to drag you guys outta trouble. How you doing?"

Before Ed could respond, Lou swore. "Wordy! The stairs are blocked!"

Wordy stumbled to a halt. "What?"

"It looks like the wall caved in or something," Lou reported. "There's no way down from the second floor balcony."

The brunet swallowed hard. Trapped…they were trapped.

'Not trapped. Airwolf here.'

His head came up and around, towards the 'sound' of that mental voice. 'Lady?'

'Dom say eighth floor. We wait.'

The lack of reaction from his teammates told Wordy he'd been the only one to hear the Obscurus. Explaining would take too long – not to mention too much air, so he called, "Lou, I'll take Sam and Jules up. Maybe there's another way out and Ed can link up with us."

"Copy," Lou acknowledged.

"That's a negative," Ed rasped, almost at the same time.

"Ed?"

"Boss?"

"I'm trapped," the Sergeant confessed. "There's a beam pinning me and it feels like it's got a lot of debris piled on top of it."

Alarm shone in gray eyes and Wordy lifted his gaze to the third floor. "Ed, we're not leaving you behind."

"Wordy, there's no way," Ed retorted, breaking off to cough. "There's only one entrance and I can see it. It's blocked." He stopped, gathering his breath. "Wordy, get Sam and Jules out. That's an order."

"But…" Of course he was going to get his teammates out; they couldn't escape themselves; but to leave his best friend behind…

"Wordy, all you're gonna do is get us both killed. You want to do that to your family? To your girls? To Shelley?"

"Ed…" He was moving even as he spoke, going up, oblivious to Jules' horror from her post on his back; Sam was too concussed to understand what he was hearing. Much as every instinct screamed to go straight for Ed, he had to get Jules and Sam out first. "No, there's gotta be another way, Boss." I can't lose you, too.

"Kevin." The team leader stiffened at the rare use of his first name. "Don't. Don't make me die knowing I got you killed, too."

No, no, no. "Lou, is there another staircase?" Please, God, don't take my friend away. Don't let him die.

"Negative," Lou replied, aching anguish and sorrow ringing. "I'm getting Spike out."

"He okay?" Ed asked – how could he ask that when he was trapped, right in the path of a fire?

"Yeah, Boss; I knocked him out before the bomb went off, that's why he's not talking. We got knocked around, but no harm."

"Good." Ed's voice was soft, resigned and Wordy hated it.

"Ed, don't you dare give up," he snarled. "I am not leaving you behind, understand?" I lost Sarge; I can't lose you, too.

"Kevin, listen to me," Ed roared. "There is no way to get to me! The only way in is the window and last I checked, you can't fly." He stopped, panting. "Kevin, I can hear the fire; it's spreading. You come back for me and we'll both die. You want that?"

"I can't let you die!" Up another floor, closer to Airwolf. They could get Sam and Jules to safety while he went back for Ed.

"Wordy…Wordy, stop it," Ed pleaded. "There's nothing you can do, pal." He stopped, as if trying to think of an argument that would make Wordy leave him behind. As if; he couldn't, plain and simple. Then the Sergeant spoke again. "Kevin, will you do something for me? Look after Soph and Clark and Izzy for me. She's not gonna remember me, but you will. You can tell her all about her stubborn idiot of a Dad who went and got himself Imperiused and loved her like nothing else in this world."

Wordy struggled to swallow against the lump in his throat. "Ed…"

"I know I'm asking a lot, buddy, and I'm sorry, but will you do one other thing for me?"

Tears, streaming down, as if Ed was already gone. "What?" he croaked out.

"Live for me." A beat of silence. "Keep on living, Kevin. Don't…don't let losing me break you. You can do it, I know you can. They're gonna need you, Kevin. My kids, your kids, Greg's kids." A beat, then a hoarse chuckle. "And hey, I can whack Greg over the head now."

In spite of himself, Wordy laughed, too. It didn't even sound like a laugh. Defeat swept through his soul, along with grief. Only a shadow of the grief he'd soon be living with. "Ed…"

"You know, back at Fletcher Stadium, Greg told me he still didn't regret anything."

"Don't…don't you dare tell me the same thing, Ed."

There was a long moment, the silence almost bated, and Wordy knew his teammates were listening just as closely. Grieving just as much, because…it was true. Ed was trapped, right in the path of a fire. Not dead yet, but he would be. Soon.

Then Ed coughed weakly. "No, Kevin, I'm not that noble. I wish…I wish he'd never gone. I wish he'd never gone and died on us. Maybe he could've stopped this from happening. Or been right in there with you and Lou."

Water blurred his sight, even as he adjusted, hitting the door with Jules' good leg. "Please, Ed…" Don't make me leave you behind. Don't die on me. They were outside and he could hear Airwolf's blades, whipping through the air.

"Kevin…Kevin, shut the comm off. Don't listen." Another cough. "I'd do it myself, but I can't reach my radio." In the background, he heard Ed straining, struggling to reach the device. "Wordy, don't…don't do that to yourself. Don't listen to me die. Promise me… Promise me you'll turn the radio off."

Someone was taking Sam, pulling Jules from his shoulders; Wordy collapsed on his knees, tears running freely. "Ed…Ed, don't, please don't." Please don't die on me. Someone grabbed him, hauling him towards the helicopter, and he fought. "Ed!"

"Wordy, turn it off. It'll be okay."

No, he couldn't do that. He couldn't let his last friend die. And it would never be okay.

"Lady, kill that radio!"

"NO! ED!"

The helicopter was moving, leaving his best friend behind. Wordy fought, no longer aware of anything save Ed. He wasn't even aware of Hawke's arm moving until the blood flow to his brain was cut off, almost instantly hauling him down into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard echoed in his soul, rending it to shreds.

'Greg?'