We reached the Plaza Hotel in a few minutes, and I saw the guards I had left, mostly the people who were too injured to go sprinting through a battlefield but still wanted to be doing something, needed to be doing something. When they saw two very large men approaching, one with a machine gun and the other with a staff, they drew their weapons and grimly came out to meet us. I held up a hand, not even stopping in my purposeful stride, and the two campers stopped in their tracks, instantly dropping their weapons. "It's fine, they're with me." They stepped back and bowed their heads to me.

"Percy, I'm not sure what is happening but something is going down on the Williamsburg bridge," one of the campers, I think his name was Bryce, began. He looked to be about thirteen or fourteen. Gods, it had been a while since I had stopped and actually thought about our ages, how young we were. I pushed the thought down and focused on the problem at hand.

"Yeah, I know. Everyone in the city wants to tell me that tonight, apparently." I growled as I stalked inside. I felt a small chill and looked to the side to see the man named Dresden grip his staff even tighter, looking more and more angry with every kid we passed, two guarding the elevators and another pair the stairs.

"I'm going to use the stairs." Dresden said, and visibly took a deep breath, combing his hair back from his face. "I don't want to blow out the fancy elevators. I still got Larry Fowler on my ass." Most of those words meant nothing to me, but as he turned away, and Gard with him, I shouted after him, "Meet us on the top floor!"

He gave a wave of his hand behind him as we went to the elevators and pressed the button for the top. The large Russian got a few strange looks from the Hunters when he had to unstrap his gun to fit through the doorway, but eventually we all got in and rode to the top. The doors slid open and we stepped into a scene of absolute chaos. Demigods were everywhere, eating food and lying on sofas, which had all been pulled together into one long row. Some were injured, with bloody bandages either being wrapped or carefully unwrapped to administer healing to them. But I ignored all that, and strode out to the middle of the big penthouse, and like a ripple of water in a pond, silence spread. I could feel the eyes on me, but I didn't stop to say anything. I was too tense for any speeches, any words of comfort. Even the sarcastic voice that usually resided in my thoughts had gone silent.

I went and stood in the one island of calm in the sea of chaos, where a map of Manhattan lay and about a dozen cell phones, along with Annabeth's shield. Malcolm Pace stood there, picking up and putting down cell phones in rapid succession as they rang. "Oh Percy, thank the gods." He said as he saw me, and put down another cellphone. "What are you doing here? We need you at the bridge, and now."

"Give me the rundown." Annabeth demanded, as I stepped back and let her take the lead. She understood all this tactical stuff far better than me. I just went where I was told. I raised my fingers to my lips and let out a piercing taxi cab whistle in the general direction of the open balcony, hoping they would hear.

"We are holding on all fronts, except for Williamsburg. And recent reports there indicate that some hellhounds have snuck up from behind the lines and began to run through them. Michael had some turn around to engage them, try and hold them back but they just ran right through them." He looked up from the map where he was pointing, a hopelessly confused expression on his face. "These new hellhounds have engaged the enemy, and are pushing them back."

"Those aren't hellhounds," Dresden's voice came from behind, and there was definitive satisfaction in it. He strode to the table, dwarfing everyone else, and leaned down to study the map. "This is what you're using to keep track of everything?"

"And just who under Olympus are you?" Malcolm demanded, hand going to his long-bladed knife on his hip.

"Harry Dresden. Wizard." He said off-handedly as he stooped down and zipped open the bag, pulling out something white and shiny. He placed it on the table over the map, and I stepped back in revulsion. Look, I've been to the Underworld more than once. I've even gone to the brink of Tartarus. The dead are no stranger to me, not in the least. But that doesn't mean I'm prepared for someone pulling a skull out of their duffel bag and placing it right down like it was a normal thing to do. And especially when the skull's eye sockets begin to glow with orange flame and the mouth opens. Also, don't listen to whatever Annabeth says. I had to clear my throat at that exact time, and it was definitely not a high pitched shriek.

Anyway, now that my manliness has been reestablished, back to the skull. Its jaw creaked as it let out a big yawn, and the small orange lights flared up all the way to two miniature fires, uncomfortably like the ones I had seen when Ares had removed his sunglasses once. "Heya boss What's the situ- oh dear."

"Everyone, meet Bob. Bob, meet everyone." Dresden said, gesturing to the skull on the table in between the map and shield. The skull named Bob. The talking, moving skull named Bob. "Bob, can you work with the shield to your right? It looks like it's magical."

"I mean, it's no Castle Marcone, or even Little Chicago, but yeah, I can work with it." The skull said, and suddenly the image on the shield started moving rapidly, and no one was even touching it. I started to get a little nauseous watching it zip around the city, and it abruptly stopped. On a… I turned my face away in embarrassment, feeling the heat rising on my cheeks.

"Bob…" growled the man, and the image was moving again.

"Sorry boss. You know how these bad guys are, always hiding in the least expected places. Had to check and make sure there was no one hiding around there."

"Keep your mind on the job at hand, not on strip clubs Bob." Dresden said, just as Annabeth cut in with about a million questions, all of them too numerous to list them here. Basically, they all boiled down to what had been going through my mind.

"What is that, and what is it doing?" Annabeth demanded, and the lights flared back up to full size in the skull's eyes.

"Excuse me, I'm not an it. I am a spirit of intellect, thank you very much." said the skull in brisk British tones, and then his voice turned leering. "And who are you?"

"Hey, that's my girlfriend. Back off." I said, stepping forward and grabbing my pen.

The wiry little man, who had been standing behind and being silent the whole time, cut in. "He's a fae, and basically the magical equivalent of a computer and a pervert. He's tapped into the shield device to see what there is to see, and also can monitor airwaves for any local chatter." He cast a look at Dresden, who was still studying the map and shield with a frown. "That about cover it, Harry?"

He waved absently with a murmured yeah, until Malcolm stepped once more in, done gawking at the skull. "So… he can hear all the chatter of the cellphones at once, and comprehend the entire map?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Butters said, and Malcolm gave a broad grin.

"So I can go join my cabin, instead of playing coordinator!" He said with relief, and began to grab his armor that he had discarded and slipping it back on.

Annabeth still seemed annoyed at how things were going so quickly out of her control, a feeling I could relate to well, and asked the question that all of us had forgotten about, as usual the only one remembering the important things. "If those things attacking the monsters on the bridge aren't hellhounds, what are they?"

The shield stopped on an image of the bridge from high up, and slowly began to zoom in. I could see streaks in the front lines of the enemy, and monsters falling at random where those streaks passed. Not dissolving into dust, but falling clutching their legs, or sometimes their throats, where golden blood trickled out.

"Those are the malks." Dresden said as he straightened up, disease on his face. "They… work for me I suppose you could say. They're nasty, but they won't hurt any of you or the sleeping mortals since I commanded it."

Outside on the roof, I heard two sets of thumps and turned to see Blackjack stick his head in and let out a whinny. Boss, it's bad out there…

"Let's go." I said to Blackjack as I moved forward. Behind me, I saw the Russian finish putting celestial jackets onto his bullets and slip a clip in, and walk up behind me. Boss, I don't think I can carry him and you whickered Blackjack, and I was forced to agree. He was about as big as Tyson was.

"Sorry, man, but my horse says he can't carry you and me." I said as I turned to look at him and shrug apologetically, in the process of climbing on Blackjack. I was done wasting any more time.

"What about me?" The smaller man with the broken hilt of a sword said, bouncing up behind Sanya.

I traded a look with Blackjack, who gave a rustling of his wings that was the equivalent of a Pegasus shrug. "Sure, hop on."

So I climbed on the horse, with Butters behind me and we took off into the air. I glanced back to make sure the little man was secure. He was pulling on his sports goggles, and his wiry hair was flying all over the place. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies!" He abruptly closed it, so quickly I could hear an audible snap, though his eyes were still wide with excitement and touches of fear. Thank the gods for that one. If he hadn't felt a little afraid flying on the back of a horse, I would have felt like a pansy. I mean, I've done this dozens of times and it still made my stomach try and flee my body.

Behind him. From the glimpses I could see from in between the hair, I saw Porgie take off with Annabeth and Gard on his back as well. Gard, I noted, looked completely at ease, checking her weapons casually. Dresden and Sanya were disappearing down the stairs, moving at a jog I don't think I could've matched on my best day.

Blackjack shot right for the bridge, and as we got closer the sounds of fighting grew louder. I could hear the clash of metal against metal, the screams of terror and pain, and, surprisingly, what reigned over the battlefield was not the swords and shields I had come to expect over these long years of fighting, but the deep staccato rhythm I recognized as gunfire. I hadn't heard much of it in my life, but you can't mistake a noise like that. It's the type of noise that resonates deep in your chest, and rings in your ears. The type of noise that makes you want to duck and cower for cover. As we swooped out from below I could see the horrible scene in front of me, and I heard Butters let out a little gasp and curse as well.

The first thing I noticed was the top of the bridge. On either top, the enemy had set up sniper nests, and were picking off my fellow campers. The Apollo campers were doing their best to fight back, but even arrows shot from magical bows couldn't hope to have the same range and accuracy of a long-distance sniper. Though a few arrows did make it. Even as I watched, an arrow took one of the men in the chin, angling up and piercing the brain. The man twitched and dropped the gun with suddenly spasming fingers, where it fell and fell till it reached the ground with a clutter so loud I could hear it over the sounds of the fighting. Immediately one of the Apollo kids darted forward to try and grab it, getting dangerously close to the dracaenae. Oh yeah, I should've probably mentioned the dracaenae.

There was an entire phalanx of dracaenae, shields interlocked and slithering in unison, with the second row providing head cover. There was a much less organized group of a hundred or so monsters behind the interlocked snake women, and hellhounds provided a vanguard. They were stopped in place, a solid wall of celestial bronze and they just sat there. I was confused for a second, before I realized. They didn't need to move anymore. The snipers were picking off the Apollo campers, and the hellhounds were locked in battle with these malk things and were holding them off.

"Take us behind the lines!" I shouted in Blackjack's ear, and he swerved and dove right towards the ground behind the entrenched campers. And right in time too. I saw one of the snipers look up, a woman with a buzz cut and a grim look on her face, and give a shout, pointing a finger at me. Instantly half a dozen rifles swung towards me, and began firing in steady precise shots. But they weren't counting on Blackjack. My loyal Pegasus let out a loud neigh and began to dove faster all while dodging to the left and right. I felt one bullet brush by me, and one almost hit Blackjack in the knee, but none hit us and we hit the pavement safely. I turned to see Porgie being treated to the same hail of gunfire, and to my horror I saw a bullet go clean through his wing. He let out a horrific scream and faltered, allowing two more bullets to slam into his chest and non-injured wing. There was no screams this time, as I watched the loyal dear Pegasus plummet thirty feet to the pavement. I glimpsed for a brief second Annabeth's terrified gaze and wide eyes before hands snatched her and they began to roll off.

I watched in shock as Gard moved faster than I'd seen any monster move, grabbing Annabeth and rolling off the side of the horse ten feet before it hit the ground, already dead with his blood frothing at the mouth. Her back hit the ground with a tremendous think, but Annabeth was on top of her and had only a small jolt of impact. I rushed over to where they had fallen, grabbing Annabeth and hugging her fiercely. She hugged me back just as fierce, and I could feel the trembling in my own as I clutched. To see her abruptly fall like that, and to know that there was also bullets designed specifically with celestial bronze were both equally terrifying in my mind. But at least Annabeth was alright. Gard had suffered grievous injury to save her, but she was alright.

Then the golden-haired woman sat up, rubbing at her backside in irritation as she bounded to her feet in one smooth motion. I stepped back in shock to see the woman moving around totally normally, already leaning down to pick up her ax from where it had fallen. "How… how are you…? No one should be able to move after that!"

"Don't assume to know everything, Perseus Jackson." The woman gave me a smile that might have been called charming if not for her cold blue eyes, and began to assess the bridge defenses, lips pulling in tightly.

"Percy, look at her armor." Annabeth said into my ear as she disentangled herself, voice back to her normal calm and superiority.

I looked closer, ignoring the shining of the metal and at the designs themselves. There was a tree carved into the middle of it, a large tree with nine branches and upon each shoulder sat a carving of a raven watching, mouths open as if cawing. It looked pretty, but if it was supposed to reveal some deep secret to me, I had no clue what that was. I was just about to say so when I realized that Michael Yew had run up to me.

"Annabeth, thank the gods you're alright!" He said breathlessly. The side of his face was covered in a thick caking of blood, and his voice sounded a bit unsteady.

"I'm good too, thanks for asking." I said as I pulled out my pen and stepped forward to grasp Michael's shoulder. "Are you okay, man?"

"Oh this?" He asked with a wave towards the side of his face. "I just got clipped in the ear by a bullet, no big deal. But Percy, those snipers." He shook his head and then winced. "We were expecting monsters. We weren't expecting a second army, but monsters we can deal with. I mean, most of us have been training for all our lives against them. But these mortal mercenaries…" he trailed off as another round of shots echoed out over the bridge. "We weren't expecting them. Most of our weapons have no way to hurt them either. We've managed to get a few of their sniper rifles, but the ones we do get don't have many bullets in them. And- I'm sorry, who is that?"

I turned to see where he was pointing, and found a motorcycle racing towards us from down the empty bridge. I recognized the tall form of the wizard, and the form of the Russian behind him. The motorcycle skidded to a stop in front of us so suddenly that it nearly tipped over, and before the engine was even stopped the tall man had stepped off the bike and was striding over to Porgie. "Butters, anything you can do?"

It was then I noticed the little man had produced a medical kit from somewhere under his cloak and was assessing the poor Pegasus. He looked up from his studying and shook his head. "He's already dead, Harry."

Dresden cursed. "Help the kids then. You're more valuable there than fighting right now."

"Already on it." Butters said, springing up and running to where a row of groaning Apollo kids were lying behind an overturned car.

"Are any more of you going to be flying in?" Dresden demanded of me.

I looked at Michael. "Where's the flying chariot?"

Michael sighed and rubbed at the non-bloody side of his face. "I left it at camp. Thought maybe if I finally gave in and let Clarisse have the stupid chariot. Thought maybe…" he trailed off and sighed. "Don't really know what I thought. That they'd get off their butts and come help. But nope. Said they'd been disrespected for the last time or something."

"At least you tried, man." I said, biting back the flash of anger as I shook my head to Dresden, I glanced back over to the defenses and how peppered with bullet holes they were, and how regularly the shots kept coming.

Dresden motioned to Gard, who was standing around looking extremely frustrated. "Give him the all clear."

"I'm sorry, but give who the all clear?" Michael demanded, stepping forward and pushing Dresden back with a finger. "Who in Hades even are you?"

"Hells bells, I'm getting tired of that question." He growled, and shook his staff under Michael's nose. "Does anyone around here recognize a proper staff when they see one? I'm a wizard."

Michael let out a bitter laugh. "Listen man. My campers are dying, I don't need someone with party tricks here taking over. What can you do? Create small illusions like most of the Hecate kids?"

I hadn't really thought of that. Most of the magic I had seen demonstrated had been illusion. Chiron's wheelchair, my shield bracket and Riptide, all were simply a twisting of the Mist to substitute their magic. Before I could demand to know exactly what could be done as well, a shot rang out. Now, that wasn't that remarkable, they had been ringing out in a steady barrage since I'd arrived, but this one sounded different. For starters, it came from the left instead of the right. Don't ask me how I knew, it's something you can tell when you're there. The second major difference was there was a major boom, like someone had just lit a stick of dynamite. I looked up sharply to see one of the snipers fall off the nest, and Gard put away her walkie with an evident sense of satisfaction.

"He's on it." She turned to Michael and said, "Tell your warriors to get ready to move. The snipers won't be a problem for much longer." As if to punctuate her statement, another boom rang out and then a second sniper fell silently from the nest.

"You want to see what I can do, kid?" Dresden asked in a quiet voice, and then shouldered past us and strode forward, a glowing dome appearing in front of him. He walked right past the rest of the campers, past the defenses of the cars, with the bullets bouncing off the glowing dome. He kept walking until he was in a clearing of space exactly in the middle of both us and the dracanae phalanx, and raised his staff. I heard one word roar from his mouth, and with that word saw exactly what a wizard could do.