I toss on my robe and hustle downstairs. I expect to find the threesome in the command center, but the lights are off. Static from the radio fills the room, followed by Tempest's voice saying, "Guardian, come in. Repeat, Guardian come in. This is K.T., come in, over." I think I'm supposed to be Guardian? I've never used the comms unit on Doris, so it takes me a second to find the right button and headset. "Repeat, Guardian--"
"Um, Guardian here," I say into the headset.
"Good to have you, Guardian," Tempest says. "Sorry to wake you. We need an extra set of eyes to cover our six. We've located Boneshaker at the club Noir, but we have an estimated eleven accomplices with guns here. We're wirelessly patching into his security system now."
"I don't know how to get that signal. I've never done this before."
I hear a man, I think Nightingale, talking in the background then Liberty saying, "Jesus, you tell her," followed by static. I think I lost the connection. Shit! Where the hell is that manual? As I rifle through the drawer the static ends, and Nightingale says, "Guardian, come in. Here's how to do it." He gives me step-by-step instructions, which I manage to screw up more than once. I hate technology. Nothing is ever simple. All that matters is eventually the feed pops up on the monitors. We're in business.
I count twelve cameras in the main room where waitresses and cleaning people sweep up booths and the dance floor. I've been to Noir. It's all blue neon lights and black walls. Looks dull in black and white with the house lights on. Another camera captures the hallway where more waitresses and beefy men with sidearm's walk to and fro. Yeah, that's not standard equipment for club bouncers. What really catches my eye is the screen where the cameras overlook a stairwell where two more guards stand outside a door.
"What do you see, Guardian?" Tempest asks.
"I count seventeen possible civilians, most in the main club with four or five in a hallway or storage areas. This is unconfirmed, but my best estimate is ten henchmen in the same areas and all carrying side arms. Hallway appears about fifty feet long with four doors along it."
"What about Ramsey?" Tempest asks. Timothy Ramsey, A.K.A. Boneshaker, is infamous in Europe for crumbling whole villages and castles, including ones with sitting royalty inside them just trying to enjoy Christmas dinner. Since he's been in town, he's only robbed a bank, but last week sent a letter to the papers promising "a bloody big show" when we least expect it. He'll be kicking himself for waiting so damn long to keep that promise in about ten minutes time.
"Not visible, but best guess is he's down in the basement. There are two armed guards standing watch there. Unknown how many people are inside the room."
"Okay, guys," Tempest says, "take positions. Keep the comms channel open but the chatter to a minimum. Only break silence when absolutely necessary."
"Affirmative," I say.
"Positions," Tempest says. "Good hunting, people."
I can imagine the three of them on a cold club rooftop huddled together, nodding at each other before flying silently to the entrances. They've done this hundreds of times but still must be nervous. Lord knows I was before every bust. Hell, my leg is spastic right now from the anticipation, and I'm miles away safe as houses.
I hear the sound of wind whooshing over my headphones as they fly followed by dead silence. "Okay, Night," Tempest says, "the alarm."
The screech of the alarm is faint over the headset. Showtime. On the monitors, the people inside the club jolt and glance up at the sound just as water starts falling from the sprinklers. The civilians seem frightened but the men with guns immediately go on guard, tensing up and moving their hands nearer to their guns. The smarter people start running for the exits but some are too stunned to move. The three henchmen in the back hallway grab their guns from the holsters while running toward the basement door. One of the guards by the mystery door pokes his head into the room then disappears inside as the hallway goons arrive to take over sentry duty. Boneshaker is so in there. I feel it in my…well bones.
Thirty nail biting seconds pass as I watch all this. What the hell are they waiting for? "Guardian, civilians clear?" Tempest finally asks.
"Majority. Most bogies are in the back hallway."
"Then go-time people."
BOOM!
An explosion over my radio almost shatters my eardrums while on the monitor the roof caves onto the wet dance floor. Everyone inside jerks from the shock. The few people still inside leap away from the falling debris, some skidding in the water on their stomachs like otters. The henchmen in the hallway run toward the main room, guns up. Only three remain in the back. I hold my breath as Liberty, force field almost shimmering on my black and white monitor, zooms down from the hole. She throws two glowing orbs at the nearest men before they can get shots off. Nightingale glides in behind her, dodging and weaving the bullets coming his way. Like a bird of prey, he picks up one of the men by the collar only to toss him into a wall. Over the gunfire and still falling water I hear as the body hits, bones cracking. I grimace.