Bust
It was almost 1:30AM when Sapphire reached the park. She would have come sooner, but she wanted to make sure she had plenty of sapphire energy in reserve -- no sense letting it trickle away just waiting around for something to happen. Plus the desolate mountainside was really creepy in the dark -- a superheroine might not fear the dark alleys of the city, but the strange sounds of an empty mountain made her jumpy.
She kept checking the time on her phone.
What time is it? 1:38.
What time is it? 1:38.
What time is it? Still 1:38.
What time is it? 1:39.
Stop it, girl, or you'll use up the phone battery before the big show. Remember, the only reason you're up here is to relay which pier they're using. If you can't get a hold of Miguel when the time comes, the whole operation goes up in smoke.
Every minute that went by with nothing happening was a minute wasted. But it wasn't really her sapphires that worried her. She didn't want to have another nervous episode like she had in the alley behind the restaurant. Compared to when she first got diagnosed by Dr. Ward, she seemed to be getting worse; if it wasn't for the respite Glitter gave her, she'd be a shivering wreck all the time. The problem was that Glitter just wasn't lasting as long as it used to, and its "trippy" side effects seemed to be more intense. She wished she could get some more pills; Miguel had brought her more of the powder, which certainly packed a punch but seemed to wear off just as suddenly as it took effect. She hoped her condition wasn't developing a resistance to the stuff.
She had a vial with her -- one of the ones Miguel gave her -- tied into her hair with a ribbon. It kept tapping her on the shoulder when she turned her head, but she was tired of fussing with it. Not that she could think of anywhere else to put it -- her costume didn't give her a lot of practical options.
She'd promised herself she'd only take another dose of Glitter if she really needed it.
She'd only broken her promise once so far.
But it was important that she was at the top of her game tonight. Glitter put her there. She could move better, think better, even see better, once she'd learned to ignore the weird glowing halos and light trails. More important, Glitter silenced the doubt and panic and uncontrollable shaking that seemed to rule her life between doses.
And tonight, Glitter would help Sapphire deal a crippling blow to the Russian Mafiya.
If only they'd hurry up and get here.
Glitter gave the city spread out before her a scratched-film look -- streaked light, grainy shadow, shapes at once blurred and sharpened. But it wasn't the city she cared about now. Her eyes darted their way along the mountainside to the north and then again to the south, picking out the dashed-line interplay of Ohlone Road and its mostly-barren host -- asphalt's smoothness, guardrail's pattern, hillside cuts. She'd traveled along this road more times than she'd cared to -- her ex Josh liked to run his Mustang hard along the switchbacks and short straights, usually chasing or being chased by some bespoilered chromed stickered import. Back then, anything beyond the headlights was a frightening unknown blackness just waiting for the car to run a little too hard. Tonight she could see variations, subtle shadings that marked not just the roadway but ravines and rises and trees -- and closer to where she'd perched, fences and picnic tables and trash barrels.
There would be no hiding from Sapphire on this night.
Finally, headlights peeked around the corner up to the north. A minute later, another set began winding its way toward her from the south. They were traveling too slow to be punk racers -- and lacked the silly overbright blue glow all the gearheads favored anyway. It seemed to take them forever to get anywhere, but a final check of her phone just before the north car rounded the final bend toward the park showed it was only 1:51.
I better pull out until they settle down, in case they notice my sapphires. Might as well call Miguel with an update, too.
Calves flexed, and the girl launched herself in a huge backwards arc, coming to rest in mid-air well out of the line of sight of the cars and their occupants. Sapphire punched at the phone cautiously -- casual movements could shift her position or even upset her balance if she didn't stay focused -- and heard the ringing in her wireless headset.
"Yeah."
"Miguel, it's Sapphire." She spoke softly; her voice sounded at once loud and insignificant in the cold still night air.
"We're all waiting. Where's the delivery gonna be?"
"Don't know yet. They're just getting here."
"I figured that already. I got word from the checkpoints at both ends a few minutes ago. I still think they should move in closer."
"I told you I'd be fine."
"I'm not worried about that." Gee, thanks. "I just don't want 'em stashing the money somewhere before we nail them. It's a big mountain."
"And nothing without wings or climbing gear can reach most of it." She didn't know what he was worried about. It wasn't like anyone could get off the mountain without using the roads, and anyplace a guy could stash a suitcase full of money in a hurry wouldn't take long to find, especially once it was daylight.
"Yeah, well, the location just seems so stupid there has to be something we're missing."
"They don't need an escape if nobody knows they're here."
"I guess... You know, I still don't see how you're gonna pull this off."
"It's dark. They won't see me."
"It ain't that dark. Not with flashlights and headlights."
"They're not going to be looking this high."
"You *really* gotta show me how you do that."
Sapphire just rolled her eyes.
"Well, remember, if something goes wrong, just say the word and I'll have guys there in three minutes."
It was nice to know that Miguel thought enough of her to at least consider the possibility, though she wasn't entirely convinced he'd actually rush in and blow a bust on her word alone. Still, three minutes was a long time.
"They're here. Gotta go." END.
Both cars had stopped -- a black Cadillac limo and some rumbling old muscle car, parked side-by-side but facing opposite directions, with an empty space between them. Sapphire let herself float down to a spot above and in front of the limo, some thirty feet up. The glow of the cars' headlights seemed feeble against the moonless night. Their sharp brightness near the cars quickly petered out to a dull gray on the distant hillsides. The city's dull orange glow eked up the mountainside, but it fell short of the gentle depression in which the park sat. Sapphire's gemstones seemed bright, but the careful heroine kept them pointing up, and there were no clouds to backlight her.
Front and rear doors opened on the limo; a large sharp-edged man got out of the front; a much smaller and older man got out of the back. They both walked around the front of the limo. In the harsh brilliance of the headlights, the bigger man looked like he was carved out of solid granite. Even the short dark spikes on his head looked unyielding.
The other car was a big old domestic coupe -- some kind of hot rodded street machine, fat tires tucked into the fenders, engine rumbling and shaking the whole car, its yellowed headlight beams making a much less discrete pattern over the landscape than the limo's blue-white cones. The silence was eery in the wake of its lumpy idle.
Out of the driver's seat, Sapphire instantly knew who it was, even from this distance. No one else was that cocky.
Chris Cogan.
Sapphire waited for the passenger door to reveal Dino, but it never happened. She looked back to the limo -- shouldn't Filip be getting out?
The three men approached each other.
"Where's Filip?"
"He had to catch a plane. Where is Mr. Sinclair?"
"He got held up."
A moment of distrust settled over them, but then passed. Neither side seemed to particularly care exactly who they were dealing with; after all, they were just intermediaries.
Old Man held out a cellular phone. "Phone call is for you." Granite took it and extended it to Cogan.
"Hello? Filip! Wassup! [brief pause] Nah, man, he ain't here. [pause] I know, man, I know. I waited for him, but he never showed, he never called, wasn't answering his phone... what am I supposed to do? [pause] Yeah, Kostya told me. So what's the plan? [pause] Uh huh." Cogan looked to Granite: "Hey, he says you're supposed to have a telescope?"
Granite hustled to the trunk. Sapphire shifted positions to peer into the trunk as it opened. Two overstuffed book bags and a tripod and a tube. The latter two pieces came out and Granite began to clumsily assemble them into a telescope.
"Okay," Cogan continued on the phone, "he's setting it up now." His hand covered the phone; to Granite: "He says you guys were supposed to have it set up already." Back to the phone: "Yeah? [pause] Uh huh. [pause] No shit. [pause] Damn, dude, you're a fuckin' genius. Paranoid, but genius. [brief pause] All right, cool."
While Cogan approached the telescope, Sapphire glanced down at the limo's license plate. It looked strange. She'd never seen one like it before. There was something printed over the stamped numbers. What did it say, Console?
Crisco rubbed his hands together. "All right boys, it's time. The show's at Pier Thirty-Nine." He tossed the phone back to Granite, who wasn't expecting it. Granite hurriedly returned to the back seat of the limo, where Old Man had taken a seat.
Cogan's hand went to pocket; another phone appeared. The screen's glow lit him up.
Cogan looked at the phone for a moment; he obviously wasn't familiar with it. New phone? Thumbs began stabbing at the keypad. Who dialed a number anymore? He must have gotten it wrong; he stabbed at it some more. Finally, he held it gingerly to his ear. "Chuck. Thirty-nine. Yeah. Wish I coulda been there." It took a moment to figure out how to turn the phone off.
"Okay. They're on the move. So, let's see what's going on down at the pier." Cogan's two new friends seemed less enthusiastic, but after a moment of looks back and forth, Granite trudged back to the telescope; Cogan was already there dialing it in...
"Okay, let's see... there's Pier 47... 43, 42, 40, bingo. Thirty-nine." Crisco stopped swiveling the thing and started fiddling with a different control. "Ahh. There. Take a look." He stepped back, gesturing for Granite.
Sapphire couldn't see anything specific from here -- that pier was halfway down the shore, maybe five miles away -- but she could just make out a string of twinkling lights that looked a bit out of place, heading up one of the main drags toward the piers.
Time to call it in. She kicked skyward, feeling the temperature drop around her, but safe in her invisible energy cocoon; in a moment only the crest of Mount Ohlone rose above her, and not by much.
She checked the phone in the palm of her hand. No signal? Maybe she was too high. There. Dial 1. Come on...
"Yeah."
"Pier 39."
"Yeah, we just spotted the first car carrier pulling in; we're moving into position. Is Dino there yet?"
"No. I don't think he's coming."
"Shit. Did you say something to him?"
"No, of course not."
"You better not be lying to me. So who's there for Moroshkin? Is Moroshkin there himself?"
"No, he sent Chris Cogan."
"Who? Oh, the punk. What the fuck? What about Filip?"
"He's not coming either. They said he had to catch a plane."
"Fuck me. So who's got the money?"
"Some old Russian guy and his bodyguard. They pulled up in a limo with funny plates."
"Funny how?"
Sapphire was too high up to see them now. "I don't know. I didn't recognize them."
Miguel seemed to have an idea. "Were they Consul plates?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"Fuck me." Sapphire wished he wouldn't keep saying that; it made her stomach turn. "That's what the glad-handing with the Russian Ambassador was all about. Fuck. Have they exchanged the money yet?"
Sapphire looked down; the three tiny figures were almost lost in the darkness, but she found them by the light of the open trunk. They were still huddled around the telescope.
"Not yet."
"All right. Stay on the line, and tell me as soon as it happens."
"Okay." Sapphire pushed herself down to a closer hover.
Crisco and Granite were taking an occasional peek through the telescope. Old Man was presumably in the back seat of the limo; the door was still open.
"So now what?" Granite asked his boss.
"We wait until they are finished. They will call me."
Granite looked at his watch, like he had somewhere else to go. "How long will that take?"
Old Man's reply was curt. "Half-hour. The crew is very quick."
Miguel's voice seemed loud in her ear. "Anything yet?"
She shot skyward, retreating to a safe distance before answering. Still, she whispered. "Not until all the cars are loaded."
"Well, if it's thirty-six like you said, this should be the last load pulling up now. We're just waiting on your word -- as soon as the money changes hands, we go."
Sapphire felt the minutes slipping away. She wondered how long this would really take. Her energy showed no signs of flagging, but just hanging out like this... memories of when she'd played guardian angel to Dino kept nagging at her -- she remembered feeling more powerful than ever, right up until the moment everything went sideways and she wound up flopping around on the asphalt like a fish out of water.
Granite checked his watch again -- he seemed more anxious than Sapphire. "It's been half an hour. You said they would be done."
Old Man barked something in Russian; Granite visibly slumped. His reply was barely audible. "Mika is not a whore."
Old Man's phone rang. His reply was terse and indecipherable. He hung up.
"We pay him now," he announced.
Both Crisco and Granite met at the back of the limo. Crisco's own car, a big old muscle car looking thing, swung its trunk lid open. Granite pulled two book bags out of the limo's trunk, straining a little to hold them up.
This was it. The Payoff. Sapphire kicked up higher.
"Now," Sapphire whispered into her headset.
"Can you see the money?" Miguel whispered back.
"Not yet."
"Tell me the moment it changes hands."
Sapphire saw the two men still at the back of the car; they appeared to be arguing about something. She zipped back down to within earshot, settling on the tip of an oak tree branch -- it wouldn't support her weight, but feeling it beneath her would keep her from drifting. She shook the dizziness clear from her head...
"Jesus, what's that smell?" Cogan's face shriveled in a That Smells Bad grimace so extreme Sapphire thought it couldn't be genuine... until she picked up a whiff of bleach from her perch.
"The bags are new; I hate the smell of the plastic lining."
Cogan's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Oh, covering it with deadly chemicals is *so* much better."
The big Ukranian was unmoved.
Cogan made a show of holding the bags at arms' length and turning his head -- no small effort considering their apparent weight -- before dropping them into his own trunk.
"Damn, how many bottles did you use?" He coughed, only partly for show. "I didn't know I'd need a fuckin' hazmat suit for this job."
Granite mumbled something Sapphire couldn't quite hear.
Cogan shook his head. "Man, if you wanted to get rid of the smell, you shoulda used vinegar."
"I hate vinegar."
The old one cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, please. If we are finished swapping home remedies, I would like to go home."
Cogan moved to close his trunk when he stopped to poke at one of the bags. His body blocked Sapphire's view; was he counting it?
He pulled out a stack of bills, wagging it like a scolding mother. "Aw, dammit, look at this! The bands are coming loose!"
Bands? Sapphire saw a slip of paper waft away from the stack of money in Cogan's hand. Oh, the straps that held the stacks together...
"You and your fucking bleach. The smell probably dissolved the fucking glue. You know what a pain in the ass this is gonna be?"
Granite looked sheepish; he turned to give Old Man a "how was I supposed to know" shrug.
Old Man grumbled. "Unfortunate. Please accept my apologies. It will not happen again."
"Yer goddamn right it won't," Cogan snapped. "Fucking amateurs," he added only half under his breath.
The attitude seemed to grate on Old Man. "Mr. Sinclair would be more respectful. He has the experience to know that sometimes these things happen."
Even Sapphire caught the "so who's really the amateur here" subtext.
"Yeah, well, he ain't here." He turned back to put the money away. Over his shoulder he said, "Could you have picked bags with a decent clasp? These things barely stay closed."
Old Man was clearly tired of Cogan's attitude. "I am sure a man of your experience will manage," he said dryly.
Cogan muttered something else, then slammed his trunk shut. "Well, I'll be smellin' ya later." Sapphire had to suppress a chuckle.
Sapphire shot skyward again, settling into a gentle drift two hundred feet up. "Go," she whispered into her phone's headset.
Miguel's digitized voice hissed in her ear. "What?"
"Go," she said, a little louder. "They just handed over the money."
She heard Miguel whispering/shouting in the background. "Go! Go! Go!" A moment later, his voice was nearer and clearer. "Stay on the line; they're coming up the hill now." He paused for heavy breathing; when he resumed it was obvious he was on the run; there was shouting in the background as he began raising his voice. "When they get there, keep your head down -- I don't need you getting shot!"
Like that would be a problem!
Granite had gone back for the telescope, and naturally was taking one last look. He did a double-take.
"Boss! Cops!"
"What?"
Crisco stopped in his tracks, car door in hand. "Where?"
"On the dock!"
Old Man snorted. "Filip was right."
Crisco quickly got over his surprise; he laughed. "Man, are *they* gonna be disappointed."
Disappointed? What was he talking about?
"Miguel," she whispered. "Miguel!" she hissed, as loud as she thought she could get away with.
But there was chaos in her ear. Shouting, panting, thumping, engines roaring, sirens.
"Miguel, something's wrong," she tried again. But no one answered.
Old Man's phone rang. Sapphire held her breath to hear everything she could, barely noticing she'd dropped to just above twenty feet; if anyone even looked in her general direction, they would surely see her, the sapphires on hands and feet giving her limbs an eery blue glow.
Old Man leaned out of the car. "The Condor has left the nest."
Condor? What the...?
Granite shouted. "Cops! Headed this way!" He was pointing up the road.
"Motherfucker!" Crisco swore. "Dino Sinclair fucked his own deal!" He kicked the tire in disgust.
"Relax!" Old Man commanded. "This is exactly what Filip expected. The police will find nothing."
"But they've got us hemmed in!"
"Go north. You will not be stopped."
Crisco and Granite looked north; so did Sapphire. The patrol car's lightbar was still strobing red and blue, but it was no longer moving.
"It has been taken care of. Now go! You do not have much time.""What about you?" Crisco asked -- probably caring only because they could finger him.
Old Man said just two words: "Diplomatic Immunity."
Crisco shrugged his shoulders and hopped in his car. The engine growled, then roared. A moment later the tires were kicking up dust.
Sapphire shot skyward on an intercept arc. Crisco had slipped away from her twice; it wasn't happening a third time.
Wham! The heroine landed hard on the asphalt, on purpose; it cracked beneath her feet. Crisco would be coming around the corner any second now...
Headlights blinded her, but she stayed put. No car could hurt Sapphire...
She put her head down, bracing her arms out in front of her, palms open, preparing to slam the car to a halt if necessary. If Crisco had any sense, he'd stop and give himself up now...
The engine's roar faded, replaced by a hard shuffling sound as the car's tires hauled it to a stop. Sapphire straightened up, squinting in an attempt to see past the headlights. But then they dimmed suddenly. No, not dimmed... *turned*. He was making a run for it!
The back tires screamed, throwing off prodigious clouds of smoke; Sapphire boosted herself above it to get clear air. Beyond the acrid cloud, the car was running away even faster than it had approached. The heroine launched herself in pursuit.
Headlights and taillights, streaked and tweaked by Glitter into artificial prominence, dominated Sapphire's vision. But the drug's amping of light brought to her attention the other police cruiser, the one coming up from the south. Had he been paid off as well? Better to let Crisco pass it if that was the case. She didn't want to be put in the position of having to strike down a police officer, even a dirty one. Her reputation was tarnished enough already.
Sapphire pulled back, gaining altitude and watching the two pairs of headlights approach each other, when a screaming man jumped into her ear.
"What the fuck is going on?! These aren't the right cars! They're not even stolen! They belong to... some Sultan!"
What?! If those weren't the real cars... the old man had said something about a bird leaving its nest...
"Are you there? Answer me! If you're fucking with me, I swear to God, Angela, I'll--" He stopped himself. "Angela? You better start talking!"
"Shut up, Miguel, I'm thinking."
Sapphire turned toward the city. If the cars didn't get loaded on a ship... would they fit on a... plane?
Her mind flashed back to dinner with Filip... he'd gone on and on about that stupid airshow, about some huge cargo plane she just *had* to see to believe...
"Dammit! Dammit dammit dammit!"
"What?"
"They're on a plane."
"There's no plane big enough to hold... oh, shit. That Russian cargo jet. From the airshow." He was talking to someone else now. "Get a hold of the airport. Tell them... fuck, I don't know, but there's a huge cargo plane there with our stolen cars on it."
"It's too late," Sapphire said more quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"They said it's already left the nest. You can't stop it."
"Fuck that." (Muffled) "Tell the tower to recall it. Be creative! What do you mean, jurisdiction? Fuck! *Fuck*!"
There was a long moment of silence. Sapphire looked back down; the police cruiser had thrown itself sideways across the road; Crisco had just come around the corner at the other end of the long straight and was slowing down.
Miguel's voice was still hollow. "Tell me we got the money. [distant mumbling] Good. See if we know anybody at the airport or the FAA or something who can get us a flight plan or destination for that plane." Back to her: "Listen, we've got the money cornered. You stay put. I don't want you fucking things up any more than you already have." Click.
What a stupid jerk! It wasn't her fault Filip had pulled a fast one. It was probably something Miguel did that made Filip suspicious in the first place, some sloppy surveillance or asking the wrong people the wrong questions or... whatever it was he did. If he'd done anything for this case at all.
And there was no way she was just going to let a lone police officer handle Crisco on their own.
With an angry flutter of fabric, Sapphire kicked her way into a fast dive, pulling up just short of the road. Hovering over the empty black hillside, she saw Crisco's silhouette inside his car, now stopped just a few feet from the patrol car. The cop was crouched near the left front fender, gun pointed over the hood, bead drawn right on the getaway man.
"Put your hands where I can see them!"
Sapphire shifted positions, sliding to her left, coming up behind the patrol car as the officer walked around the front, gun never wavering from its target.
Suddenly, Crisco flashed his brights; this blinded both heroine and officer for just a moment.
But a moment was all Crisco needed to disappear.
Shoot, not again!
He must have dived under the dashboard.
Maybe slipped out the passenger side.
That had to be it. People don't just vanish.
The officer was down on one knee. "Freeze!" he shouted, his voice filled with both authority and uncertainty. Remaining crouched, he crabbed toward the driver's door.
He popped up, gun pointed right in the car. "Shit!" He looked again, checked the back, backed away from the car, weapon and flashlight swept in unison to the left, right, darting up the steep cut in the mountainside. "What the hell?"
He had to be on the far side of the car. Sapphire was tempted to sweep over the scene for herself, but she was afraid she might make things worse. The last thing she needed was to distract the cop -- that was probably what Crisco was hoping for. So she waited in mid-air, staying out of the cop's field of view, wishing he'd hurry up and get around the back of the getaway car already...
He'd just gone around the back of it, still in a crouch, when the idling machine suddenly scrambled rearward. Sapphire saw the cop go down -- Oh, No!
Then she saw Crisco, right there in the driver's seat, like he'd been there the whole time. Damn he was quick!
The car lunged forward, a quick brake-stab stopping it just as it tapped the rear fender of the cruiser.
Sapphire considered her options. A quick start for the hood of Crisco's car was aborted; the most important thing now was to protect the police officer. If she didn't, Crisco might back over him again. So the heroine darted right.
Grinding, crunching, groaning, and a bellowing engine played background noise as Sapphire landed next to the fallen peacekeeper. Was he dead?
Crisco's car started throwing off chunks of rubber and more thick white smoke. Sapphire crouched and flexed, throwing off a bubble of force, clearing the air around her -- and shoving Crisco's car on its way. She threw the briefest of angry glances over her shoulder before turning back to the cop.
Cough! Cough! "Ow! Sonofagun-- Ow." He took a very slow breath. "Ow."
"Are you all right?" the heroine asked.
The cop nearly jumped back at the sight of a nearly-naked girl kneeling next to him. "Holy crap! You scared me!"
Sapphire suppressed her frustration as the sound of Crisco's engine faded into the night. She couldn't leave a down man out here alone. At least not until she knew whether he was seriously hurt.
"Are you all right?" she repeated.
"Are you an angel?" He wasn't joking.
"Not exactly." On headset. "Miguel! *Miguel*!" Dammit, he'd hung up! She hit Redial. Meanwhile the cop just laid there, face contorted in pain. "Miguel! He just ran him over!"
"Who?"
"A cop, he blocked the road, Crisco stopped, and..." she couldn't say what happened next, because she couldn't *believe* what had happened next... "and then he ran the cop over." To the officer: "Where are you hurt?"
Officer sat up. "I'm... I'm okay. It wasn't much of a hit. Knocked the wind out of me, mostly. Just give me a minute, I'll be okay. Ow."
"Better not to take any chances." To Miguel: "Get an ambulance up here, NOW!"
"On it. Stay on the line."
"Are you okay? What happened? Why didn't you tell him to get out of the car?" Sapphire held her breath, fearing the answer.
"He wasn't... I mean, I thought I looked. I *know* I looked. One second he was sitting there, and then the next he was... *gone*. I swear I looked, he wasn't there. I..."
"It was dark," the heroine excused.
"I know, but..." And then it dawned on him that he was talking to a girl who'd appeared out of nowhere.
"Where did you...?"
"I was following him."
His face crinkled, a look of confusion that was interrupted by a grimace of pain as he tried to look around for some explanation of how she'd gotten here. And then he started looking at her...
"You're... You're that *girl*." He seemed to search for the name. "Sapphire. They said you weren't real."
"Maybe I'm not." But she realized messing with his head might not be a good idea in his injured state; you were supposed to keep them awake or something...
So she took his hand in hers and squeezed.
Miguel. "Ambulance is on its way. Ten minutes."
"Ten minutes," she repeated to both Miguel and the officer, who was now sitting up.
"Wow. I never thought... Ow. I mean, can you... did you really... Labor Day Weekend, was that... well, you know..."
"Let's just worry about you right now."
An unusually loud jet banked overhead; Sapphire looked up. The Condor, no doubt. Another minute and it would be out over the ocean.
Sapphire looked down the mountain. Crisco's taillights slowly shrank as they appeared and disappeared with each gentle switchback; he was almost to the bottom. Soon he'd be lost among the maze of city streets...
Everything was going to hell.
The police officer knew what Sapphire was looking at. "Can you still see him?"
"Yeah, but not for long. He's almost to the bottom of the hill."
"Can you... can you catch him?"
Sapphire gave the officer a look: are you sure you'll be all right?
"Go on," he said. "Get that bastard."
The furious female flew so fast, she nearly lost her costume; by the time she slowed down, she'd overshot her target.
No sooner had the deafening rush of wind faded than another deafening rush replaced it.
"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" Miguel's digitized voice rattled her skull. "You've been playing me all along, haven't you? Do you know who you're fucking with? You know what I could do to you? I know who you are, I could-"
She really wanted to give him an earful, but right now that was hardly productive. So she soft-shoed it.
"I swear I didn't know. You must have a leak. Or Filip and Dino are just plain smarter than you."
"Smarter than *me*? You're the one who told me where and when it was all happening!"
Basically, an admission that he hadn't done a damn thing on his own. Sapphire swallowed her pride; she was saving her anger for Crisco. "I'm sorry."
He was talking to someone else again. "Well, do we at least have eyes on Dino's man? *What*?!? Well where the fuck is-- Grounded!? Motherf-"
He cut himself off; his next words were both closer and more intense than anything he'd ever said to her before. "Listen to me, you stupid little bitch. You just *fucked* me. Thanks to you I got *nothing*. No cars, no money, no bad guys! You better get me *something*, and I mean *right* *fucking* *now*, or I swear to fucking God I'll sell your ass out! Do you *hear* me? Do you-"
That was it; she couldn't swallow any more of his bile.
"SHUT UP!" she screamed. "Relax. I see his car."
Miguel was too stunned to keep yelling at her. "Wh-where?"
"Right below me."
"Below?"
God, would Miguel never figure out that she was real? Was he really that blind?
"I don't have time for this," she said, and ripped the headset out of her ear. She'd had enough of Defective Rubio.
Obviously, I have to do everything myself.
Crisco was heading up Railroad Avenue now; Sapphire leaned forward to get more speed and close in for the kill...
...when suddenly the world started to tilt.
An icy disconnect shivered up her spine as the sapphires suddenly shunned her.
And as she began to fall, she realized it wasn't just the sapphires that had stranded her.
She couldn't move.
Limbs flopped wherever the wind shoved them; her limp body slowly rolled over, looking up at a black sky.
Inside, she screamed.
And then she got it back. As fast as it left, her body came back, and the sapphires with them. She spasmed with the shock, twisting and just getting her feet under her when she saw a building rushing up to meet her. Arms instinctively covered face, and Sapphire's body crumpled into a ball as it blasted through the roof.
Splinters, choking dust, and... *water* was everywhere. Sapphire looked up; she'd crashed right through a water pipe on her way into... She looked around. Some office building. No, some office in a warehouse. She was laying between two halves of a particle board desk, three cubicle walls canting sickly in toward her.
"Ow." She didn't move for a long moment, waiting for the shock of impact to subside -- and waiting for pain to arrive. But her sapphires had protected her.
If only they hadn't dropped her in the first place. The memory of terrible frozen helplessness shocked her into movement now; the girl half-leaped, half-levitated up out of the wreckage.
And then she felt the tremor. Just a little one in her left leg, but she knew what it meant.
She needed more Glitter.
The girl settled to the floor, away from the hole she'd just created. Her hands went up behind her head. Was her vial still there? The ribbon had slid further down her ponytail, but it was still intact; her fingers grasped the precious vial, then tugged at the ribbon to free it.
But both vial and hands were wet; the glass cylinder squirted free, flying across the darkened office space. Sapphire lunged after it, smacking into another cubicle wall and doing more damage.
It took a moment of crawling around under a desk to find the glistening powder. Sapphire's hands trembled with anticipation as she unscrewed the cap and tapped out a healthy dose. A hard snort sent the powerful powder shooting up into her sinuses, setting the inside of her head in a blissful ice. It took the girl a long time to release her breath, long after the electric tingle of Glitter and sapphires coordinating had spread through her body.
But that was all the respite she could allow herself. Crisco was getting away, and that simply could not happen.
The gossamer girl fluttered up through the hole she'd created, then shot straight up, air pressing her scant clothing flat against her smooth skin. She halted her ascent at several hundred feet, looking out over the city in the general direction her prey had been fleeing.
Here, what would normally have been a good move -- staying clear of heavily trafficked areas -- made him easy to spot. There weren't many big old musclecars rocketing along through an industrial neighborhood at three in the morning.
There he was -- still running as if she'd never left his shadow. His erratic high-speed juking only made him easy to spot. She wondered if he'd ever dare slow down to see if she was on his tail...
No matter. He'd be stopped soon enough.
Sapphire gathered herself, then launched forward, her path arrow-straight, cleverly judging where he'd be when she caught up to him.
The heroine brought a windmill fist around, sending an invisible hammer blow to the roof of the car. It lurched beneath the impact, but did not slow. Again, and again she rained blows down upon the metal monster, so hard it threw sparks against the roadway, but still it failed to yield.
Apparently this car was built a bit tougher than the last one. If she hit it any harder, she might kill Crisco -- and as fitting as it might be for him to die, it couldn't be at her hand. Besides, she wanted him alive to testify.
Just then, a thought popped into her head. On those police pursuit shows, cop cars would bump the rear fender of a car to make it spin. Why couldn't she do the same?
A quick juke to the left put her in position; after a glance ahead to make sure there was nothing in her path, she turned and aimed for the car's rear quarter panel. She had to slide closer; hitting a fast-moving car being driven by a fleeing lunatic wasn't an easy thing. But just as she was ready to strike, the car stood on its nose, tires shivering at the limits of adhesion; she flew right by as the back end of the car wagged one way, then the other, and then the car shot off down a side street.
How could Sapphire let herself be outmaneuvered by a two-ton automobile? She pulled herself to a stop, then shot off after it.
Before she'd caught up, she saw too-bright flashes of red and blue swing into view. The police had picked up the trail. Sapphire was both concerned and thankful -- though they might get in her way, she still needed them. After all, she wasn't exactly equipped to take a collar back to the station. Indeed, it occurred to her that the police might presently be more interested in locking her up than him.
She pushed ahead of the police cruiser. A thought in the back of her mind cautioned her to keep a low profile, but she dismissed it. She had a job to do, and right now that was more important than keeping her own existence secret.
Crisco was heading into the older part of downtown -- the heart of the club district. Was he insane? Even an hour after the bars closed, there were still a lot of people out on the street, wandering from one all-night club to the next. Didn't he know how easy it would be to come around the wrong corner at the wrong time and nail somebody?
Of course he did. And he knew she'd know it too. He was telling her as plainly as if he'd said it to her face: back off, or people will get hurt.
I'm not going to let that happen.
Sapphire kicked forward, shooting ahead like she was on afterburners. Flipping around in mid air, she felt her skirt flip up, flapping madly about her wait; but modesty was furthest from her mind. The girl's arc dropped her a hundred yards in front of Crisco's hard-charging steed. There was nowhere for him to go.
She put her hands out in front of her, knees and elbows bent, hovering just a few inches off the pavement.
Crisco accelerated.
Sapphire pushed out a broad ball of force. KaWHANG! The car shuddered, slowed. Headlights shattered; grille caved in; the lip of the hood crumpled.
She hit it again. KaWHACK! The car sidestepped, tires chirping, squealing, engine strained. The back end swung wildly; Crisco was losing control.
Sapphire rose and shifted toward the sidewalk, holding one hand out in front of her as if she were preparing to catch and cushion the car's impending spin. The car's front tires turned toward her -- was Crisco trying to hit her? A two-handed stab struck the front and side of the car with an audible punch, but this only sent the back end skittering around the other way. The car, motor wailing, now bore down on her completely out of control, all four tires stuttering sideways before letting go in a long screeching slide. Sapphire watched as the car seemed to slide right past her in slow motion, Chris Cogan's arms pistoning frantically at the steering wheel, head cranked so far left she thought it would twist off, trying in vain to recover control.
The heroine rose and pushed to follow the slow-spinning car as it skated violently across the center line and toward an empty lot on the far side of the next intersection. The back end was beginning to lead the front now, tires briefly catching as they came into alignment with the direction of travel but breaking loose again under pressure of panic-locked brakes. Sapphire cringed and pulled up short as the car backed itself up the corner of the sidewalk. The trunk smacked a trash barrel, half-crushing it to the bumper's countour before a loud Bang! Suddenly the rear of the car *stopped*, momentum at once yanking the front end around to the right and twisting the whole car up off its left-side wheels. The left rear wheel distended and then popped free below the left fender; there was a moment of near-silence as the car continued to rotate, until the right front wheel found purchase in whatever low obstruction had hooked the rear. The car canted itself even higher, nearly rolling on its side before both right wheels broke under the car with a violent Snap! The body skidded several feet into the lot before slowly groaning back down toward horizontal, sounds crescending toward one final settling Crunch! The car seemed to nestled itself as a haze of dirt and smoke kicked up around it.
And then somehow, Crisco fell to the ground outside the car. Sapphire blinked; he must have thrown himself free. She noticed the driver's door looked ajar and partially unhinged.
"Stop right there!" she commanded. But Crisco scrambled to his feet and staggered toward the back of the car. Sapphire considered felling him on the spot, but she couldn't tell how badly he'd been hurt yet and didn't want to risk killing him. Instead she simply floated in closer, determined not to take her eyes off him for an instant.
The trunk lid was popped halfway open. And as Sapphire came around, a fearful memory short-circuited all thought and stopped her in her tracks. There were flames spreading over the back of the car.
Crisco wrenched the trunk lid all the way open with a violent one-handed shove; flames licked higher. A cloud of angry paper filled the compartment, whirling and casting off strays.
The money.
Sapphire's first thought: Get Away. She leaned forward, pushing Crisco sideways with both hands; the man staggered back, hands still reaching into the trunk, finally pulling free with pitiful handfuls of loose bills as he lost his balance and crashed to the ground on his side. He rolled over, scrambling to his feet again, a look of stupid fascination on his face as he leaned for the car but found himself shoved away from it. The flames in the trunk suddenly poofed larger and brighter; the cash, loosed from its bags and shaken about the trunk like tiny flakes in a snow globe, seemed to toss itself like it was boiling in flame, curling and glowing and ashing and spitting, feeding itself into a sustained ball of fire.
Even through her forcefield Sapphire felt the crisp heat; she gave Crisco one last hard shove to throw him clear, and then hopped clear herself. Eyes quickly darted about the car's surroundings, looking desperately for signs that anyone else might be endangered; but this particular corner was empty, save her quarry.
"Freeze!"
And the police.
Well, they'd have to wait their turn.
Crisco would not stay down; he was already on his feet and running hard toward an alley across the street.
Sapphire rose up to follow, and felt a sudden cooling.
The fire must have been hotter than I thought.
Then she found herself falling forward, tripping on the pavement, crashing to hands and knees; blue sparks strobed at the awkward impact.
No. Not now. He's getting away.
Sapphire craned her neck; she wasn't letting that bastard out of her sight. He was already halfway down the alley; she could just make out his silhouette in a dark space between light from surrounding buildings.
Get *up*.
Sapphire pushed off the ground; her gemstones responded, uprighting her into a two-step run before she again took to the air. She leaned forward as her limbs assumed neutral gravity, knees forward, elbows and wrists bouyed out by the billowing of her gossamer wing-sleeves. While her eyes focused on her still-running prey, her mind focused on her sapphire energy. There was little sign of warmth that maked the stones' turning, and no ebb in its strength. Her sight still showed the bleed of bright light that Glitter induced.
But her hands felt... light. It was the first hint of Glitter feedback. But how? She'd had... three hits? How could it be giving out so soon?
Maybe it's not too little Glitter. Maybe it's too much.
The alley branched right and left up ahead. Sapphire knew if she let him turn the corner, he'd be gone. She reached a hand forward, feeling her sapphires reassuringly adjust her bouyancy to her movement. She focused on Crisco's pistoning legs and quickly stabbed at them with her hand; the man immediately tripped, crumbling and rolling against the stain-slicked pavement. His legs never stopped working, driving him forward on hands and knees, working himself back up into a run; but Sapphire was right on top of him now, hovering over him, and reached down with an invisible slap upside the head that sent the fleeing man tumbling up against a wall.
Sapphire set herself down behind him, hand raised, poised to pin him to the spot if necessary. She remembered a dark wall outside the convention center, where she'd pinned a pair of much more evil scum than this and nearly crushed them before she'd been attacked from behind by... well, that wasn't going to happen on this night. Suddenly Chris Cogan seemed weak and insignificant, important only for the reckless damage he'd caused and the damage he could do to the Russian Mafiya.
"Don't move!" she ordered, her voice regal and angry.
But of course he did. Back on his feet, he peeled around the corner of the building and took off running.
She was tempted to clip him again, but there was no point -- he was heading for a dead end. She rose just inches off the ground, gliding down the alley after him like a ghost. He reached for a doorknob; she flicked her wrist, slapping his hand away. He spun around, juking, dodging, scrambling further down the alley, further into shadows.
Finally, he saw the wall ahead of him. He slowed, turning, backing up to a gasping standstill.
"Hey! Don't hurt me! Please! We can work something out. I can... I can get you things! Whatever you want here. I have... connections here, I have abilities."
"Quiet!" That both shut him up and stilled him. Was that fear in his eyes? Good.
Sapphire raised one hand; he cowered as she pointed at him. "You think I can be *bought*? You think I can be *bargained* with? You've been a very bad boy, and I'm here to make sure you pay for your crimes."
And then she felt it. The trembling.
No. Fight it.
She lowered her arm and planted her hands on her hips, as much to lock her body stiff against the spreading shivers as to strike an intimidating pose.
Crisco's eyes flashed a strange recognition. As if he suddenly understood who she was. "You're with Them. They sent you here to push me back through."
Push him back through? He must mean prison. Weird way to put it.
She didn't know he had a record, but it didn't surprise her.
Sapphire took a step toward him -- if she stood still, he might notice how badly she was shaking. "That's right -- the police will be here soon." Very soon, she hoped. "And then you're going away for a long time. Maybe for good."
Crisco raised an eyebrow. "You don't really care about what I've done here, *do* you? This place doesn't count."
This place? Had he done something near here before?
It didn't matter what he meant.
"All the people whose lives you risked tonight, they care. The family in that minivan on Alvarez you almost killed, they care. The man you murdered downtown a few days ago, he cares. It all *counts*, asshole!" Sapphire fueled her anger with the obscenity, a dark corner of her subconscious hoping that enough anger could hold off nervous collapse just a little longer.
Crisco backed all the way into the alley, nearly pressing himself up against the brick wall. The light from high warehouse windows on either side cast his form in a criss-cross of light and shadow. Only now he stopped cowering, straightening himself, shoulders thrown broad, chest swelling to toss off a dismissive chuckle.
For an instant, Sapphire felt panic -- was this a trap? No, he couldn't have planned this. She heard sirens stop; hints of red and blue light washed the walls. Car doors slammed; shoes pounded pavement. Just a few more seconds.
"It's over," she seethed. "The police are here."
At first she wasn't sure she heard it; between the Glitter's tightening grip and her sapphires' growing flame, the world was at once falling away and overwhelming her. At first she just thought maybe it was her; then she saw his shoulders shaking in the streaked light; then she heard him over the sounds of approaching footfalls.
Chris Cogan was laughing.
"You really are just one of these *people*," he sneered. "You can't push me back through. You don't even know what that means."
What was he talking about? Push him back through *what*?
"Do you know what You're Under Arrest means?" she asked through gritted teeth. "You're about to find out." Every muscle in her body ached; she took a step forward to keep from collapsing.
"Freeze!"
The alley lit up, flashlight beams searing white spitting slashes across the girl's altered vision.
Through it, she stared hard at the man before her. The burning scattershot illumination seemed to darken as it struck him. Sapphire squinted, blinked, fighting Glitter's entrancing interpretations.
"Down on the ground!"
Neither Sapphire nor Crisco paid the police any attention. Their eyes, their hatred locked on each other.
Crisco appeared to smile. He shimmered in the vacuum of shadow.
And then he *vanished*.
Sapphire staggered forward. It wasn't an illusion. No hallucination. No unnoticed doorway, no path of escape.
But... people don't just *disappear*.
"I said, down on the ground!"
Gone. He was just... gone. And with him, everything. Without so much as a puff of smoke.
And suddenly Sapphire felt a chill. The same chill she'd felt in another alley not long ago.
The same chill she'd felt when facing off against the Black Widow and the Hunter.
The chill of cold fact that she was not the only one who was impossible.
The alley echoed with the impact of a warning shot. "Down. On the ground. *Now*."
The defeated superheroine kicked airborne, gems spitting bright disappointment; hanging over the heads of stunned police officers as her energy flickered, faltered, then found one last feeble reserve...
...and Sapphire's escape cut a stuttering arc through the night sky.