The Bedlamite Obligation (A Matt Savage Adventure) Chapter 29

[seymoure]

Eve of Battle 

“The fear of death is the most unjustified of all fears,
for there's no risk of accident
for someone who's dead.”
-Albert Einstein 

Since Coop was there he got the “Attempted Murder” collar and therefore, the questioning. Because I have made some enemies in the police hierarchy, I wasn’t even allowed to listen from the next room. I did get a promise from the detective to brief me in my office as soon as he had drawn out all the data from the pair that he could.

I knew that they had found us because of the newspaper item we had planted. It said that there had been a mistake when they reported that Hugo had died. They affirmed that I was dead, but Hugo had not only survived but probably would revive from his coma and remember everything.

The reason we planted it in the paper instead at a TV or radio news was that we could put the room number in the article, while the others couldn’t get that specific.

Coop would get whatever could be gotten from the failed assassins.

So I was involved with other information gathering.

I called Nick Cavano and asked him to get in touch with me at the first moment he could after he heard anything from MacPherson. I told him if he called Police Headquarters, they could dispatch a car to get me wherever I was, just in case he couldn’t get me at my office. I also promised that at the first second I could, I would get out to the ranch and stay there 24 hours a day until the situation came to some kind of resolution.

The old man was shaken, and I knew he needed me to be there. He was a frail General commanding an army too young to counter the kind of assault expected. In an evenly matched war, wise guys vs. wise guys, there was as good a force here as money could buy. So, while it was true that he had a lot of muscle in house, it was almost all brawn with none of the seasoning to deal with a new situation, one they had never even thought about. So he needed new eyes and a working Captain to keep this ship afloat.

I hoped to avoid any Titanic failures.

I sent Rayleen to a local hotel (where she was registered under a false name) to get some sleep. She objected, but I told her that the two of us had some talking to do and I wanted her safe so we could do it. That seemed to help.

It would have helped my surety of her safety if Hugo hadn’t told me on his return from delivering her that she had registered under a name that shouldn’t get any notice.

But it was not a complete surprise to find out that she was logged in under the name W. Woodpecker.

Well, that was Rayleen.

There was more than a small amount of concern for me that these two mugs were people I had never seen before. Was MacPherson recruiting? What kind of gang was he assembling?

Suddenly the stationhouse was alive, like it had been given a communal case of the DTs. Policemen were running, dashing around, pulling firepower from the armory, sirens in the distance ringing a chorus that sounded like Armageddon squared.

I pulled a cop aside and asked him what was going on; he looked around like he wasn’t supposed to talk to me, but didn’t know for sure. With the guilt of the kid who stole your Twinkie, he said, “There is a shootout downtown. At least ten guns and . . . “

I gave him the look I reserved for puppies that have soiled my new rug and asked, “And . . .?”

“MacPherson is at the center of it all,” he said, slapping his hat on and cocking a rifle.

He was about three steps ahead of Hugo and me.

I checked my available ammo as we hurried to follow.

Hugo looked excited and scared and angry. I understood.

The Bastard was going to pay, right now.

Or I might die.

Oh, Hell, I’d done that already this week.

© C. Wayne Owens
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