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fiction: serial fiction
the crown: book two, chapter three
James dropped their bags (after insisting he carry them all) on the floor of their room, positioned at the very top floor of the Best Western Inn on Hosmer. Tonya had been very vague about exactly where the castoroides ohioensis was, or even what it was, and James had been perfectly fine with waiting to see what she had in store, enjoying the sheer unexpected adventure of every new trip on this very extended "vacation" from LA after confounding her nemesis, the implacable Damian Dare.
The room was nice by Best Western standards -- large bedroom and bathroom, a couch positioned in front of a 27 inch television, mini-bar off to one side. Out the window, the endless motion of Interstate 5 was visible, snaking its way north towards Seattle and the oddly named Sea-Tac airport, which held their hangar and where Terry waited with the plane, and south through Oregon and eventually California. James walked over to the window and considered this -- the same I-5 that he knew snaking past downtown LA and Griffith Park, filled with tractor trailers and weary commuters, here was a central thoroughfare for locals to get from here to there. The difference in the road's psychology -- an almost industrial strip down south and a sleepier commuter passage in Tacoma -- stood out to him in sharp relief.
"Don't jump," Tonya said with a smirk, unpacking her bag behind him, "you've got so much to live for."
James turned and smiled, taking off his leather peacoat. "You're comical," he returned softly, taking her in with his eyes. Her rumpled black jeans and pea soup turtleneck sweater hung loosely on her dangerous curves. From memory and experience, he could make out the perilous tuck of her behind, the ambition of her breasts, as her long black braids swung around her shoulders.
She looked up and noticed him watching, and smiled. "I got the feeling somebody's gonna come up outta them jeans in a minute ..." Tonya said with a purr.
Before James could reply, a frantic knock on the door surprised them both. Tonya raised an eyebrow as James rushed his index finger to his lips and made for the door. "Who is it?" he asked loudly, darkening the corners of his voice with all the bass he could muster.
A voice from the other side of the door came back in halting, frantic Cantonese. James furrowed his brows in confusion as a look of realization crept over Tonya's face like a scared Siamese bolting under a couch, all rush and kinetic energy.
"Mai Shen?" Tonya called aloud, her voice uncertain.
"Tao Soo Miyaoka!" the voice replied, "Open the door! Of course it's me, come on!"
Ignoring the look of concern on James' face, Tonya undid the chain and unlocked the door, allowing a thin Asian woman with stunning black hair that flowed down to her waist to stagger through the threshold. Tonya caught the newcomer with one smooth motion, gesturing James to close the door. Locking every possible lock, part of his newfound paranoia, he kept his eyes on this Mai Shen.
Standing perhaps five foot three, James remarked that this woman was Asian of indeterminate national origin (then again, he thought, his skill at picking traits of nationalities was not exactly expert). His eyes kept coming back to her hair, a glorious waterfall of tresses, perfectly straight, so flawlessly black that when the light shone off its onyx sheen, it was like a sliver of starlight. She was wearing a red quilted vest over a green linen shirt and pants, each decorated with embroidered characters that looked like Chinese. Unassuming black slippers held her feet, and each finger bore a ring of a different color. Her face looked ashen and worn, and she breathed raggedly, as if she'd been chased across the world.
"I haven't seen you in centuries, Mai Shen," Tonya began slowly, "why are you ..."
"I'm being chased by the Five," Mai Shen interrupted, waving her hands. "They're still on their mad quest, even though their empire no longer exists, their overseers resting in forgotten tombs along the Turkish shore ..."
James stood near the door, his arms crossed, watching carefully. Tonya glanced his way and spared him a look of appreciation through pursed lips and worried eyes.
"Mai Shen ..." Tonya began again. "I haven't been Tao Soo Miyaoka for hundreds of years. I'm Tonya Fitzgerald now. How did you find me here? What is 'the Five' ..."
Mai Shen looked over her lids at Tonya, still breathing heavily. "I forget my manners, Tao Soo ... Tonya," she said with some effort. "I apologize for my abrupt arrival. I have sought your counsel for a number of years. Could I have some water, and then I can relate my story?"
Tonya bit her lip and wondered at Mai Shen, so tired, and couldn't help but comply. Laying a hand on James' crossed forearm as she went by, she rushed into the bathroom to secure one of the plastic-wrapped glasses from the sink and run tap water into it. James vaguely remembered that this wasn't LA, and no one was afraid to drink the water from taps here. Tonya pressed the cup into Mai Shen's hands as the Asian woman drank deeply, finishing the cup in one slow drag.
Breathing a little more evenly, Mai Shen bowed slightly towards Tonya. "I am grateful for your hospitality, Tonya Fitzgerald, my old friend Tao Soo. May I introduce myself to your companion?"
Tonya returned the bow and turned to observe James. Mai Shen stood, a little unsteadily but managing, and faced James. Fitting her left fist into her right hand, she bowed slightly and said, "Greetings, noble traveler. I am Mai Shen, the Sable Mane, and I thank you for your indulgence."
James, at a loss, inclined his body slightly, keeping his eyes on Mai Shen. "I am James Edwards, the current holder of the Crown, beloved of Tonya Fitzgerald." He tried to sound sure, fitting the events of his life into Dungeons & Dragons-influenced syntax, which he hoped was good enough for what was happening here. Tonya's smile implied he hadn't screwed up.
"With your permission," Mai Shen continued, as she sat down, glancing from James to Tonya, "I will relate the tale of my ... unfortunate arrival here. I ... well, Tonya and I have been friends for a very long time. We met hundreds of years before your Jesus Christ was born, two members of a very exclusive club. I hoped to see her again when Bellerophon called us all together, those too stubborn or too stupid to die, in the year now called 1032, to a settlement now called Konya in Turkey."
Mai Shen took a few deep breaths and glanced out towards the freeway before continuing, watching Tonya. "I'd been there about an hour and a half, and Bellerophon and another survivor named Harald Olafson -- I don't think you knew him, Tao Soo. Anyway, these two had me locked in a debate over the best way to stay in a community, faking deaths, returning scions or what have you. Then Set Djed, that arrogant Egyptian, sounded the alarm. The Manos family had come to visit."
A single tear fell down Mai Shen's cheek, clearing a path through what looked like a thin layer of grime -- her travels had not been easy. Tonya, her expression filled with dread and concern for her long lost friend, took Mai Shen's hand and squeezed slightly.
"The Byzantine Church was run by the emperor, Constantine VII at the time," Mai Shen said quietly, "and he had a ridiculous amount of power. Constantine handed down a mandate that all signs of the old world were to be destroyed, that they were 'affronts to the faith,' and that the new world of the Church's 'divine faith' was all that mattered. The mandate was given to a particularly enthusiastic Holy Templar, or knight of the church, named Iakovos Manos. He took the Mandate very seriously, and his research had already shown him immortals existed. When word of the Konya meeting got to him, and I still don't know how, he decided to do something about it ..."
"I think I see where this is going ..." James said grimly.
Mai Shen nodded. "Iakovos was the eldest of five brothers, and the five of them, all Templars, led a force of a thousand men to Konya, summoned on the authority of the Church and the Cross."
"I saw Yeshua following barges as a teenager, alongside the nile," Tonya spat out. "He would never have authorized those acts in his name, or even an interpretation of his name."
"Regardless," Mai Shen continued, "the settlement was besieged. The local clan's chieftain, who basically ran the town, was a descendent of Bellerophon's, and he was determined to defend their land against the Church's thugs, who'd been running roughshod over the region for years. There were maybe fifteen immortals there, and maybe a hundred men at the chieftain's command. We held off the Templars for maybe two days ..."
"I rode up in the afternoon of the first day," Tonya said, remembering the time with some pain. "They were still trying to set up the siege machinery, battering rams and all. I was on horseback and traveling as a pilgrim, so I just turned around and pretended I was a pilgrim headed back the other way. I didn't even know you were there ..."
"Bellerophon mentioned that he'd gotten word to you," Mai Shen nodded, "and I was looking forward to seeing you again, perhaps playing some Go or chess. In any case, some of us started to realize this was a pointless gesture, and some of them wanted to fight it out. Set Djed and Harald wouldn't hear of anything short of killing all the mortals, Templars, townspeople, whoever. I was a little less cavalier about my life ..."
Mai Shen broke into a coughing fit, her body bucking violently from the strain. James took the glass and went for more water, as Tonya patted Mai Shen's back and tried to calm her through it. James returned with more water, which Mai Shen managed to get down.
"Thank you," she said, nodding her head by way of salute. "Anyway, that's all ancient history. The Manos family, however, isn't."
"They were mortals, though ..." Tonya frowned, confused.
"Iakovos and his brothers -- who all survived, unfortunately," Mai Shen said with a sneer, "passed down the responsibility for the Mandate, with the blessing of Constantine VII, to their descendants."
"That explains Damian's email ..." Tonya said absently. James opened his mouth, a furious question standing stillborn on his lips, but Mai Shen continued, not noticing his nascent rage.
"From what I've learned, there will always be five Manos relatives, hunting us, fulfilling the Mandate's mad dictate to eradicate immortality and magic from the world ..."
"... and now they're hunting you," James finished.
Mai Shen nodded. "They've been tracking me for about ten years now. There's a new one on my trail, after I managed to kill one in Canada a few years ago. Had to blow up a whole acre of really nice land to do it, but oh well. I've been trying to reach any of the old ones, and the only one I could find was Set Djed, who laughed at me. Until you popped back up on the radar in Japan, where some of my adherents still operate. They tracked you through your layover in Sumatra to Seattle, and I followed ..."
"That's messed up!" James exclaimed. "What if these Manos dudes followed you here? They could find Tonya and ..."
Mai Shen waved her hand to calm him. "If they followed me, it will be days before they arrive. I travel ... using unusual means, which are not easy to track. I lost them for six months in Uzbekhistan before they caught wind of me. Unfortunately, I attracted the attention of their most relentless hunter, Alexander Manos. If anyone comes for me, it will be him."
"What do you want from me, old friend?" Tonya asked quietly, taking both of Mai Shen's hands in her own.
"Truthfully, I do not know," Mai Shen admitted. "I've almost exhausted my own network of resources, they've slain almost all of my descendants in their quest to destroy me. You are one of the last friends I have in the world ... until my friends in Japan reported that Boss Tiger had lost the Hand of Glory, which only you or I would really know how to use anymore, I suspected that you were not dead, as I'd believed these many years. I simply had to come to you, to see for myself, to make sure I wasn't alone in this world with Set Djed and an endless sea of mortals."
"Not dead yet, no," Tonya smiled bitterly. "Look ... we can't stay here. I have a facility in the area, one I normally never use, on Vashon Island. Let's head over there, and we can stock up on some better information gathering resources. I came here to deal with something from the old world, a castoroides ohioensis that lives nearby, and I'll have to do that in the next few days as well."
"There are still some castoroides ohioensis around?" Mai Shen said with horror. "After that story you told me ..."
"I think it's the last one," Tonya said, biting her lip.
"Uh, hey, mortal here who's very lost," James said flippantly. "What's up?"
"Get the car, and take some bags," Tonya said, standing, steely resolve in her eyes, "we're checking out."
* * *
The black Aston Martin Vanquish sat dangerously in the fire lane, outside baggage claim at Seattle-Tacoma International airport. Its hazards blinked lazily, reflecting off its consular license plates, its tinted windows stood just barely cracked, as a thin sliver of cigarette smoke drifted from the driver's side.
An angry looking security guard stormed over, noticing it had not moved in ten minutes, his orange vest riding up as he walked. "Damned foreigners think they can get away with anything ..." he muttered as he walked. Holding a ticket book in one hand, he waved at the darkened window, suggesting the car move along. When nothing happened, he walked right up to the driver's side and tapped on the window.
The glass slid carefully down and Nikolas Manos, dressed in a black silk shirt and wearing a black leather jacket that cost more than this guard made in a month, and slid down his Movado sunglasses to regard the man.
"You can't park here!" the guard, an older Black man with salt and pepper hair, crowned by the plastic-wrapped hat of his office, said snappily.
Nikolas reached up and pulled at the sun visor, producing an identification card from an unseen pocket. He proffered the card to the guard, sliding his sunglasses back into place.
"What's this supposed to be?" the guard huffed. "I don't care who you are, mister, you can't park here!"
Nikolas calmly replied, "Please take a look at this."
The man grumpily took the card from Nikolas and read aloud. "Nikolas Kapetelis, special operative, Interpol. What's that ... oh god ..."
Nikolas smiled slightly. "Now you have a better idea of what's happening," Nikolas said darkly. "In a few minutes, a very important co-worker of mine will come out of that door, climb into my car, so he and I can work very hard to apprehend a very dangerous suspect, one who would be very happy to leave you and your pretty little airport in a lot more pieces than you're probably used to." Nikolas lowered his sunglasses again to regard the guard. "I'd like very much for you to leave me alone until that happens."
The guard handed back the card and stammered an apology. "Of course, oh God, I'm so sorry, please ... uh, stay as long as you need to, I ..."
The tinted glass slid back up with no further word from Nikolas.
The guard swallowed hard and walked slowly away from the Aston Martin.
Mere moments later Alexander Manos stepped through the doors of the airport. He was dressed much like Nikolas, except he favored Aviator sunglasses and wore a crisply tailored suit shaded the deepest forest green, with matching leather loafers. He slid his garment bag and a briefcase into the marginal back seat of the Vanquish and lowered his grand frame into the passenger seat.
"Yahsu, Alexander," Nikolas said quietly.
Alexander grinned widely and patted Nikolas' shoulder. "How long has it been, and all you have for me is 'hello' in the mother tongue? Come now, little brother, where's my hero's welcome?"
Nikolas gritted his teeth as he pulled the Vanquish away from the curb, its motion so smooth inside its confines as to be indistinguishable from standing still. "If there's an account operating in North America, it is my responsibility ..."
"Nobody's stepping on your toes, Nikolas," Alexander said charmingly. "I am widely accepted as the most successful hunter, the finest investigator our family has seen in generations. I got wind that one of my accounts was headed your way, and now I get to see my little brother while we both do the work of the Lord. What could be wrong with that?"
Nikolas said nothing as he worked the car towards the freeway.
Alexander sighed and pulled a Treo 600 from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. After a few keystrokes, he commented, "Well, my notes say that we're likely to find our prey amongst the Asian subsections of Seattle."
"Is your partner joining us?" Nikolas said sullenly.
Alexander laughed aloud. "You think we need the Wolf for an immortal who's most dangerous asset is an encyclopaedic knowledge of herbs? Oh, you are sensitive today! To answer your question, no, Lykaios is still in Kinshasa, and he's likely to stay there. Heh, you are an amusing man, Nikolas."
Silence rolled off of Nikolas in waves as the Aston Martin's V12 soared through the freeway traffic.
"Listen, Nikolas ..." Alexander started, "I know you still feel like a second choice, like you're only one of the Five because of what happened to Dimitri. Honestly, that may be true. But you've been trained your whole life for this, you're just as good as Dimitri ever was. The Mandate fell to him, based on a formula developed before people even bathed regularly. You have nothing to prove, and no one to impress. The sooner you get that chip off your shoulder, the idea that anyone could have saved Dimitri, the sooner you'll be in a better place."
Nikolas again said nothing, his leather gloved hands gripping the steering wheel like a brokenhearted teenager holds a grudge.
"Right ... you're a sparkling conversationalist," Alexander said, rolling his eyes and dialing the phone. "Hello, yes, Detective Banner? This is Alexander Duquesne from Interpol, we spoke briefly the other day ... yes, yes, I am in town, just got off the plane. I was on my way to your office, and wanted to pick your brain about where my terrorist might hide in your beautiful city ..."
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