Chapter Five: Flame of the West
Flamewings reappeared in a ball of fire high above City Hall. Despite the flames, she was too high for anyone to see clearly from the ground. With a high, trilling cry, she focused on her family down below, letting her power spill out to find them. Like struck crystal, seven pulses of magic sang back, reassuring her that her family was here and as safe as could be. She swept downwards, her head in motion, searching the rooftops with both eyes and magic. There was a lingering regret that her brother could not be here as well; his gryphon eyes were far keener than her phoenix ones.
But it could not be helped. The wind caught her wings, letting her soar high above the buildings, unnoticed by any humans below. She swooped by the clock tower, seeing and overhearing Sam and Jules' discussion about the Tower Sniper. Interesting, yes, but not her purpose here and now. She flew on, but an idea occurred to her. If she could tap into the communications, she might yet take advantage of any intelligence her family could find on the matter.
So she landed on a perch far above where the SRU trucks were parked and flung her power downwards, letting her magic decide how to act. Much to her disgruntlement, her magic did not, as she had hoped, 'tap' into the communications, but she did and could overhear Tomasić's friend and her uncle talking.
"You know what? He's not answering. Luka, you mind calling him on your own phone?"
"No," Luka replied.
Uncle Ed protested at once, "Boss, Boss, the subject's already volatile." Though he pulled Uncle Greg to the side, Flamewings could still hear every word. "You sure we want to bring in a third party now?"
"Yeah, we're out of time."
"And you think the kid can talk to him?"
"No, but he can keep him on the line long enough for Spike to get a lock on where he is," Uncle Greg said flatly. Above him, Flamewings gave a soft trill of approval.
Her uncle strode back to Luka, already talking to him. "Luka…Luka, if you get him talking, think past his plan to the bigger picture. You said you were like brothers, right?"
"Right," Luka agreed. One tendril of magic curled around the young man and Flamewings took to the air again, determined to find the sniper before he could hurt anyone else.
As the phone rang, the phoenix flew high, searching with both eyes and magic. Her magic translated the words she could not understand into Narnian, which her magic, and therefore she, could understand. "Petar," Luka cried as soon as his friend picked up.
"What are you doing with them?"
Luka started to reply in Croatian, but Uncle Greg's soft, "English," made him start over.
"What good is this going to do?" Luka demanded.
"You know what they did," Tomasić wailed, grief in his voice. Flamewings hardened herself to it; she would not let him visit his grief upon them. "You know what I have to do. He promised it'd be different here, but it's not."
Her magic sang, guiding her in and letting her spot the grieving man in an SRU uniform. She trilled her outrage that he would dare wear that uniform. "No more shadows. No more hiding. No one waiting to shoot you. I got used to walking without watching rooftops. I got used to not being afraid." Against the phoenix's will, she felt for him. Fear, too, was something she knew. Perhaps the largest difference between them was that her parents had been murdered by criminals and his father had died for being a criminal.
"You don't need to be afraid," Luka replied. "They told me no one will be hurt."
High above, the phoenix cringed, knowing all too well what the sniper's response would be. "That's what they said. That's what they said before he shot my father. Tell them I want Ed Lane to come out. Or more people will die!"
She saw him throw the phone away, saw him leave the rooftop. She landed, letting her magic curl around the fleeing sniper. He could not hide from her, not anymore. She let her magic pull away from Luka, regret in her heart. If only Tomasić had accepted his friend's words, perhaps then Luka would have been right. They were not so different, she mused. If not for Uncle Greg, she and her brother might well have turned out like Tomasić, angry, bitter, grieving, and willing to kill anyone preventing their vengeance. But Tomasić had made his choice, as she had made hers. Someone would die before all this was over…and it would not be her pseudo uncle, of that she was determined.
Flamewings took to the sky again, following the sniper as he made for yet another perch.
The phoenix didn't dare land as she spied his location and where he was already looking, already positioning for. She knew his target, knew it without even looking. Sam and Jules were on the roof he had been on; the rooftop he was even now aiming his rifle at. With every bit of speed she possessed and some she hadn't even known she had, she flew like the wind back to the building at the southeast corner of Bay and Queen. With bare moments to spare, she spotted Sam and Jules splitting up, Sam running forward to the decoy on the roof.
With a fierce cry, Flamewings dove, fire already dancing around her. The flames rippled over her wings, the edges blazing a fierce violet hue. The fire raced from the tips of her wings up her wings, her tail igniting as well. In seconds, she was engulfed in the flames, her form hidden in the fireball around her body. Defiance raced through the wind as she shrieked again, drawing attention from both officers. Then she was there, racing along the rooftop, a line of fire in her wake.
Fire blazed behind her, rising above the line of the wall, easily twice the height of the platform the sniper had shot the rookie cop from. A shot rang out, but missed as the sniper's target vanished behind the sheltering flames.
The phoenix rose sharply, her claws raking briefly against the wall in front of her as she climbed. Another cry, this one of triumph, split the air as she wheeled, circling above her own. Sam raced down the steps toward Jules, shield in hand. The pair dove for what cover there was, eyeing the flames with open fear. But the fire was phoenix made and did not spread from where she had placed it. It did begin to die down, giving the sniper more of a target and the sniper promptly tested the strength of Sam's shield. Flamewings trilled her fury. She had protected her family, but now, they were trapped. Her magic shrieked in warning and she threw herself sideways and down, avoiding a bullet by the tips of her feathers. Regretfully, she flew down, out of range. Rescue would be up to the rest of her family.
"What the heck was that?" Sam yelled, eyes wide as he stared around the shield at the violet flames dancing a bare meter away from them.
Jules shook her head. Before she could respond, Ed's shouted, "Status?" nearly shattered her eardrum.
"We're okay," she called. She was about to call out again, when her ankle flared up in pain and she gasped.
"Jules?" Sam queried.
Jules ran a hand down her ankle, feeling it carefully and grimacing as it protested the exam. "Ed, I think I twisted my ankle," she admitted. "Probably when I dove for cover and that whatever it was showed up."
"You were yelling for us to get to cover and something showed up," Sam picked up before any of their teammates could ask. "Looked like some kind of flying fireball…it ran a line of flames right between us and where that shot came from."
"Flying fireball?" Sarge asked, sounding bemused by the description.
Jules and Sam traded looks behind the shield. "That's what it looked like, Sarge," Jules confirmed. "I think I heard it shriek, almost like a bird." She eyed the fire, then lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "And, um, the fire's purple."
"Purple?" Wordy demanded sharply.
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "It's not spreading either; hasn't moved at all as far as I can tell."
"Almost like…" Jules trailed off, drawing in a sharp breath. She and Sam stared at each other, realization flaring up, just like the flames that danced so close to them.
Wordy ran right over the newborn realization with his follow-up question. "Jules, you heard a bird shriek?"
"Yeah…" Jules replied, thoughtful. While it wouldn't be the first time only one member of Team One knew what the kids' latest trick was, it was usually Sarge with the inside information. Did Wordy know which teenager had just pulled this outrageous and dangerous stunt?
Wordy spat out a very uncharacteristic phrase and both constables jumped. "Wordy?" Sarge asked, sounding worried.
"That little idiot," Wordy growled. "I'm going to turn her over my knee and make sure she never pulls a stupid stunt like this again."
Never slow, Sarge's voice filled with incredulous horror. "Alanna?"
"Yes!" Wordy snapped, still furious. "She's…" Wordy trailed off and he must have whispered the rest to Sarge.
When the Boss spoke again, his own voice had the same cold anger that Wordy's had. "Okay, we'll deal with mia nipote later, team. For now…Sam, Jules?"
"We're fine, but we're pinned down here," Sam called. "Shots are coming from City Hall."
"Copy that, we're on our way," the Boss confirmed.