Mississippi Roll

‘It’s him,’ the Angel said.

It was the Witness. Ray had encountered him first during the mission on which he’d met the Midnight Angel. He knew that this Witness and the Angel had a history between them, but she’d never revealed the extent of it and he’d never asked her. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘no sense in putting this off.’ He looked at IBT. ‘Get in place. Move when you hear the shots.’

‘Give me three minutes,’ IBT said.

‘You got it,’ Ray said, and the Tongue slithered off into the darkness.

‘You don’t want to do this,’ the Angel said.

‘Kill these guys?’ Ray shrugged. ‘Not particularly.’

‘No.’ The Angel smiled. ‘You’re not cold-blooded. Hot-blooded, yes. But you can’t kill from ambush.’

‘There’s always a first time,’ Ray said.

‘Not if there’s another way.’

‘I told you. All you had to do is get me here. I would take care of the rest.’

‘I love you,’ the Angel said.

Ray smiled. ‘That’s good to hear.’

‘I know.’ She bowed her head. ‘Save me from evil, Lord,’ she prayed for the first time in months, ‘and heal this warrior’s heart.’

Her wings appeared and she shot up into the sky. She was above the sight line from the bridge in a second, a reverse meteor burning through the sky. In her hands, Ray saw, was her flaming sword. She flew above the bridge, cut her way through the roof, and dropped down on top of them. The sword cut two swaths through the air, left and right, and the barrels of the guns dropped, severed in two. She broke her grip on the sword’s hilt and it disappeared, going wherever the hell it went when she didn’t need it. Then she used her fists on them. They didn’t stand a chance.

‘You!’ the Witness said.

‘Me,’ the Angel agreed, and advanced on him.

He backed away, saying, ‘Not again, not again!’

‘Hmm,’ Ray said, and fired two shots into the air.

IBT burst through the door and threw a couple of loops of his body around the Witness.

‘The serpent!’ the Witness screamed. ‘Oh, God, not the serpent! Save me, oh, God, save me!’

IBT started to squeeze and the Witness screamed like a little girl.

Next to Ray, Maximillian Klingensmith appeared from out of the shadows.

‘Where you been?’ Ray asked.

‘Hiding from that snake guy,’ he said. ‘Everything under control?’

‘I guess so,’ Ray said.

♣

But, no, Ray realized. Their troubles were far from over.

He stood in what remained of the bridge, with the Angel, Olena, IBT, and the Schröder’s captain and mate. The Witness, who’d fainted dead away when the IBT had grabbed him, was tied up with his surviving men in the hold. The Schröder was still steaming upriver, being chased by more launches and followed on the road running alongside the river by a line of screaming police cars, their sirens wailing in the night.

‘Now what?’ Olena said miserably. ‘Our last hope is gone. Cuba was our last haven. What can we do now? We can’t let them be taken to Rathlin. That’s a prison sentence, a virtual death sentence.’

They all exchanged glances.

‘Well,’ Ray said, ‘far be it from me to encourage illegal behavior, but I think your best chance is to run for it.’

‘What?’ Olena said.

Ray shrugged. ‘Find someplace, run the ship aground, and leg it. Some of the refugees will probably be caught, but you can hardly have a more emotionally heart-touching revelation of their plight. The publicity will be killer. In the meantime, many will get away. It’s a big country. I’m sure there’s people out there willing to help, one way or another.’

‘But you, you say this? You represent the government.’

Ray sighed. ‘I’ve represented the government for forty years, and if it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the government isn’t always right. The right thing for them in this case was to help your people, not turn their backs on them.’

‘The Lord,’ the Angel said quietly, ‘helps those who help themselves.’

‘There you go,’ Ray said.

Olena and IBT looked at each other. Then she looked at the captain.

‘Can this be done safely?’

‘Relatively,’ he said.

‘But your ship?’

He sighed. ‘My ship is old and so am I. I think we are both ready to retire.’

Olena took a deep breath. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Let’s do it.’

♠

‘Are we doing the right thing here, Angel?’ Ray asked as they watched the crowd of refugees swarm the deck.

‘I think you’ve given them their best chance,’ she said.

They looked at Munnin. The patch was back over his left eye. ‘I see nothing,’ he said.

‘That’s probably for the best,’ Ray said. ‘Better hang on.’

They all grabbed onto the derrick in the center of the deck as the captain ran the ship aground. It hit the riverbank in the midst of a dark industrial area that consisted of large buildings set in a warren of narrow streets and alleys. The ship shuddered with a groaning cry of old metal tearing. Although the three kept their feet, on the deck below them many of the refugees went down. Some skidded and rolled, but most all got to their feet immediately and it was every man, woman, and child for themselves. They swarmed down gangplanks and ladders. The confident swimmers went over the side and into the water below.

The launches following them stopped dead, the police cars racing up the road skidded to a halt. The three SCARE agents watched the show unfold. It was like watching a surrealistic version of an old Keystone Kops movie with sound effects.