Marcus kept driving with no further words exchanged between him and his unusual companion. His palm was starting to sweat against the warm butt of the gun in his hand.

Being in this truck made the mercenary uncomfortable, and it was not all together due to the presence of the man with talons and a sword sitting next to him. The longer this truck was on the street, the better the chances were of accidentally running into some Enforcers making their rounds. So instead of going through his usual system of turns and detours to the Society’s headquarters, Marcus drove straight for the ramshackle building.

"Nice to see we’re not the only ones who frequent the bad parts of town." Wings said as they approached their destination.

Marcus pulled around back to a door specifically sized for larger vehicles. There was no visible activity at the door, but he knew the old structure was filled with bustling people.

Wings noticed the stillness of the area through the cracked windshield and that Marcus had not yet shut off the engine.

"So what are we waiting for here?" He asked with controlled anger.

"Just for someone to notice when I click my ruby slippers." Marcus answered cryptically. He then hit the truck’s loud horn in a quick string of short and long beeps in Morse code.

Right on cue, a motor inside the structure was turned on, and the door slid open. Light streamed from within and a semi-circle of men and women stood in wait.

"There’s no place like home." Marcus said humorlessly.

The truck rolled in, and the semi-circle of people waiting surrounded it.

"Just get out slowly." Instructed Marcus. "No sudden moves. And keep your hands out and away from your blade."

The masked individual gave no verbal acknowledgement of the warning. He merely followed the instructions.

A number of the Society agents looked jittery. Many of the nervous individuals thumbed off their weapons’ safeties. This situation was likely to be the closest thing to real action most of them had ever seen. Marcus just hoped that all of the agents stayed professional and avoided letting their shaking fingers settle on any triggers.

Granite kept his hands up while he hopped down from the truck’s rear. None of the folks with guns made any movement to disarm him or Sera. Swords and staves were rarely threatening when measured against firearms, and none of strangers were likely to know what Kirn was truly capable of.

For a building with an exterior that looked like shit, the interior didn’t even look like it needed a fresh coat of paint. The massive garage was well maintained. Workbenches stood along the walls accompanied by shelves holding auto-parts and tools. The closest things that resembled disrepair were the oil stains on the cement floor.

One woman made a sweeping motion for Granite and the Stormpheonixes to walk around to the front of the moving van. The three complied and found themselves standing with Wings who also had his arms raised.

"Now let’s everyone stay calm here." A well-built man sporting a jet-black goatee instructed. "We knew this meeting would be coming up sooner or later. Can someone tell me who’s commanding right now?"

"That would be me. And I made it clear to you that when we brought them in, it would be under my supervision."

The voice came in a thick bass. Granite could see the speaker was a heavyset, black man in a formal suit. He was bald at the top of his head with a full beard that had yet to see any gray. A path was cleared by the gun-toting crowd, showing that the fellow in the suit commanded some serious respect here.

"Dallentine," The guy with the goatee said cheerfully, but Granite could tell the bright greeting had a mocking tone to it. "You’re up late tonight."

"Because I got a call saying that one of our best agents decided to go for a joyride and risk compromising our security." Whoever this Dallentine was, he definitely meant business.

Granite leaned over to Wings to get a few quick words in with him while the argument ensued.

"I take it that’s the nut-job who drove us here." He assumed.

"Yeah." Wings acknowledged. "His name’s Marcus, but that’s about all I was able to find out on the trip here."

"Dude, I’ve suddenly got the Mission: Impossible soundtrack goin’ through my head."

"Cut the B-Sing. This is probably more serious than any of us realize."

"The Enforcers who were driving this thing were able to hit the panic-button before they went down." Marcus said harshly. "The Committee was going to be homing in on the truck’s location in no time. I got the truck here and some interesting cargo to go with it."

"Expect a discussion on procedure at your debriefing." Dallentine said. "Until then, you’re dismissed."

"Hey, I brought them in." Marcus came back indignantly. "I’ve got as much right to get the story as you do."

"You’ll get the story later. You’re dismissed."

Marcus decided to stand down this time. He turned away and started to make his way out of the crowded garage when a voice called out.

"It would be better if he stayed." Wings insisted.

Marcus turned back around and gave an approving look to the four in masks.

"Excuse me?" Dallentine asked in a state of half-shock. Apparently, few people questioned his authority around here.

"He told me on the way here that he’d been watching us." Said Wings. "We want to know why, and from his own mouth."

"You don’t fully understand the circumstances just yet." Dallentine replied in a reasonable manner.

"But there is one thing we do understand." Kirn stepped forward, gradually bringing his hands down. The mage was quick on the uptake of what Wings was talking about. "You are going to provide us with an ultimatum. You will say that we can do things the easy way or the hard way. If you want us to stick with the easy way, then you’re subordinate stays."

Dallentine shot a bitter look at Marcus who stood waiting for the other man’s decision.

"Fine. But I demand that we deal face to face. You can provide us with that courtesy, since we already know who you really are."

The Stone Hawks gathered close to confer on the matter.

"What do you think?" Wings whispered.

"I don’t like this." Granite said in a low voice. "They probably know everything from where we live to what we had for dinner."

"Do you think they know about the condition you and Wings have?" Kirn questioned suspiciously.

"Doubt it." Wings shook his head. "Marcus nearly took the truck off the road when he caught sight of my claws."

"Well, I don’t see us getting out of here anytime soon if we don’t cooperate." Sera put in. "I don’t think the hard way Kirn suggested would have anything to do with us just waltzing out of here unharmed."

"I’ve gotta agree with you there." Said Granite. "What do you think, Kirn?"

"I’d say our best bet is to be honest and just hope they return the favor." The wizard advised.

"Alright." Wings nodded. "Let’s just hope we don’t get shot in the process."

"What do you mean by that?" Asked Sera.

Wings ran a hand from his head down to his shoulder, showing a lack of any seems on or around his mask.

"Oh." Sera realized.

"Yeah." Granite said. "There’s only one way we’ve been able to find that gets the outfits off."

"We need to manage this the best we can and hope nobody winds up full of holes." Advocated Wings.

The four resumed facing Dallentine and the agents standing amongst him.

"Okay." Wings said. "Kirn, Sera."

Brother and sister pulled their masks away. Granite and Wings merely stood in place.

"You two as well." Dallentine ordered.

"Just have everyone holster their guns." Wings requested. "People tend to get a little unsettled when we do this. And having all these guns out probably has everyone jumpy to begin with."

"Fair enough." Concurred Dallentine. "People, I want safeties on and weapons put away, but be ready to draw."

The crowd complied with their leader’s wishes, and all visible handguns were tucked into jackets or slid into belt holsters.

Granite gave a nod to Wings and began to concentrate on his other form. As the flash of light came, Granite heard the clamor of weapons being redrawn, of safeties clicking off. The sequence made his bare ass clench, and he could imagine Wings was having a similar reaction.

The light from the transformation faded, and the Hawks again found rows of weapons point towards them. But now the face of every armed individual held an expression of fear. Rob looked uneasily around the expansive garage and began to wonder just how close to death he and the others had just come.

Dallentine, while shaken at what he had just been witness to, kept from moving towards a panic like many of his people seemed on the verge of doing.

"I want everyone calm from this point on." He commanded before turning his attention back to Rob and Dave. "And I want you to tell me what it was that you just did."

"We took off the masks like you asked." Rob stated.

"And what was that flash?" Dallentine stepped around a cluster of agents who continued to keep a wary eye on their captives.

"Would you believe it was magic?" Dave asked.

"I know the history of you two." Dallentine stated. "Prinn said you once had one of the Spirits’ old toys."

"Karen’s involved with you people?" Dave gave a start at the information.

"She is. In fact, she’s in this building. We would have sent her out to keep an eye on you instead of Marcus here, but she requested not to be seen by you just yet."

"I think you know why she asked that."

"Yes, I read it in her report." Dallentine’s strict attitude softened for only a moment. "You have my condolences, Mr. Whitman."

"Maybe we should all talk somewhere with a more relaxed atmosphere." Gritted out Dave.

"Agreed. If you’ll just follow me. Marcus, I assume our guests would feel better if you came along."

Marcus looked content with his orders this time. Obviously, his interest in the Hawks was equal to Dallentine’s.

"Everyone else," Dallentine addressed the rest of his followers. "Return to your duties."

The large team of people started to disband through side doors and hallways that led from the garage. A few men and women began searching the moving van. Rob could only speculate what they were likely to do with the explosives once they were found.

Dallentine stepped forward with Marcus staying next to him. Dave kept near the two men with a tense stiffness to his walk. Rob started to follow at a close pace, but found Sera pulling at his arm. Rob then fell behind just a bit as Sera and Kirn kept to his sides.

"What’s with Dave?" Sera asked. "I haven’t seen him like this before. He’s acting like he’s…."

"Pissed?" Rob offered.

"Not quite the word I’d use, but something along those lines, yes."

"I must admit," Kirn said. "He does seem agitated."

"This place, these people. And the way Dallentine mentioned condolences." Sera surmised. "It all has something to do with someone close to Dave, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah." Rob cast a glance ahead to make sure Dave was occupied with Dallentine.

"What happened?" Pressed Sera.

"It had to do with Arkin’s book."

"Marcus said we could compare notes." Dave said to Dallentine as they headed down a wide corridor. "You already seem to know a great deal about us, so who are people?"

"I thought Prinn told you when you met up with her a few years back." Dallentine replied.

"She told me that she was part of some kind of resistance movement that suspected a new world order was being formed here in the states."

"And shortly thereafter, the World Management Committee was founded. We haven’t called ourselves a resistance movement in quite some time, Mr. Whitman. Back then, we were just a fledgling organization. Today, we have a number of major headquarters all over the world. Local police, the occasional politician, citizens from all the social classes. We have members from the homeless man on the street to CEOs of some of the WMC’s commercial competitors."

"A secret society?" Inquired Dave.

"Not quite secret." Dallentine explained. "Just very well hidden. Though we do call ourselves the Society."

"And what does the Society do?"

"We hold onto the past. We keep tabs on business going on within the Committee. And in rare situations, we are forced to take direct action against the Committee."

The corridor came to an end with a study door. A narrow window secured with wire mesh inside the glass gave a view of a stairwell leading up.

"And President Fredericks doesn’t know about you?" The idea of such a large group remaining hidden from the ever-thorough government struck Dave as ludicrous.

"Oh, Fredericks knows." Dallentine opened the door and went to the stairs. "He knows the Society exists. Hell, he might even know the organization’s name. But he doesn’t have a clue where to find us. Otherwise, this place wouldn’t still be operating. We like to stay low key when we can and not give the Enforcers too much of a reason to start searching for us a little more carefully."

Dallentine began to ascend the stairs. Dave looked back to check on his friends. Rob, Kirn, and Sera were hanging back quite a distance, involved in their own conversation. Dave might have voiced his concern to them, but he had more questions he needed answered first.

"Let me ask you this." He inquired as he followed up the stairs.

"I didn’t start wanting him to get rid of the book until we got jumped." Rob told Kirn and Sera who were giving their undivided attention. "These guys just came off the street and went up to me and Dave. One of them told Dave to hand over the book. Dave just hitched up his backpack and walked away. Seemed simple enough. I mean, why should he have handed it over? The book was his in the first place.

"Then the guy who asked for the book just went at Dave. This guy, by the way he fought, I could tell he was good. Too bad for him Dave was better. Dave and the guy are goin’ at it while I’m doin’ all I can to keep the two others busy. So I’m wrestlin’ around and Dave’s movin’ like Van Damme on speed. Then the guy Dave’s fightin’ pulls a gun. Dave just reacted and struck. Then one of the guys I’m holdin’ pulls a gun and points it at Dave. We struggled a bit and two shots just seemed to go off. God, do I hate guns. Dave had blood all over his hands, and there was this gun in my hands that felt like it was still vibrating after it went off. Two of the dudes we were fightin’ were just laying there dead, and the third ran like a bat out of hell."

"It was the first time either of you had taken a life." Kirn said. He rushed forward to catch the door that was slowly closing behind Marcus.

"Yeah." Acknowledged Rob sullenly. "The worst part about that kind of thing is that it actually gets easier the more you do it, the more you kill. Me and Dave, we both learned that as everything else just got worse."

"So what then?" Sera looked to the stairs which Dave, Marcus, and Dallentine had just gone up.

"We waited. We waited for somethin’ to come on the news about bodies found on the street of our home town. We waited for the police to show up and cart us away. My prints were on the gun and some of Dave’s blood was probably on the body of the one guy. A murder one case could have been put against us, no problem.

"We didn’t say much to each other while we waited. But a whole damn week went by, and nothin’ happened. Nothin’ showed up on TV or in the papers. No cops came to the door. It was like the whole thing never happened. Creepy as hell. That made me think of what would have happened if we were the ones who got killed. Maybe me and Dave would have just been labeled as disappearances, not murder victims. Friends and families would always wonder what happened to us without knowing the truth."

The group was led out through another door after four flights of stairs. Like the rest of the building, this upper floor saw regular maintenance. The gray carpet still showed signs of being recently vacuumed and the florescent lights above were all functioning

"After that week, everything just seemed to hit home on Dave. I convinced him that the book was bad news. So we did everything we could to destroy the fucker. We poured gasoline on it and lit a match. We took a chainsaw to the damn thing. It turned out we couldn’t even tear the pages."

"Preservation spells." Kirn stated. "The ones on my own book keep it safe from wear and tear. It sounds like Arkin wanted to insure his work would live on."

"Personally," Rob remarked. "I’d like to ring the bastard’s neck."

"Everything alright back there?" Marcus said over his shoulder.

"Yeah. We’re good." Rob assured.

"I’ll warn you now not to think you can just be wandering off. This place has better security than you might think."

The three of them could tell that Marcus’s warning was a subtle hint to follow more closely so he could keep a better eye on them.

"So what have we missed up here?" Rob chimed in once he caught up to Dave.

"Just a little Q and A." Dave answered before speaking again to Dallentine. "So what happened with the Society when Fredericks was moving into the Oval Office?"

"At the time," Dallentine responded. "We were more of a special interest group, so things stayed rather quiet for us. It was when the U.S. Marshals’ Service, FBI, ATF, and all the other federal agencies were dissolved that we saw a jump in our recruitment."

"I would have thought most of the old federal agents were absorbed into the Enforcers."

Marcus suddenly smiled as if he had just heard a dirty joke. Dallentine, however, gave a distasteful frown before answering.

"Let’s just say the Enforcers are part of a very exclusive club." Marcus retorted.

Dallentine brought the group to a wooden double door halfway down this second hall. Without a word, he pulled open both doors. Inside was what appeared to be a large meeting room occupied by a round table with a ring of thickly padded chairs. On the far of end of the room was a white display board, which was the only adornment to the four beige walls.

"Everyone can just have a seat here." Dallentine told the visitors.

All six people sat around the table. Marcus appeared the most relaxed, shuffling in his seat just a bit to make himself more comfortable. Dallentine rubbed his hands in preparation for what was bound to be a lengthily interrogation.

"Now what we want to know, first and foremost, is why." He announced. "Fredericks never spent the time and effort on us that he’s been focusing on you people. So you know something we don’t."

The four guests all looked uneasily at one another, as if getting ready to let an untamed animal from its cage.

"It started out with the Spirits." Rob said.

From there, he and the other three recapped the events that had changed their very lives. Not surprisingly, their story met with disbelieving looks from Dallentine and Marcus. Yet, the two Society members gave their full attention during the interview. In fact, Dallentine soon developed a tendency to lean forward every time the Bronx area was brought up.

"And you expect this whole thing to be taken seriously?" Dallentine challenged.

"Hell no." Rob came back. "We wouldn’t. But we’ve seen some messed up shit these past weeks."

"Two of you are claiming to be somehow altered by the Spirits and the other two claiming to be from another planet." Marcus said. "I’ve heard better. And the part about the dragon is bullshit."

"What did we ever really know about the Spirits?" Questioned Rob. "Next to nothin’. What about where the Spirits came from? Absolutely nothin’."

"Whether you believe us or not is irrelevant." Dave pointed out. "What does matter is that the Committee has got some kind of major business going on in the Bronx that we want to stop. Do you know what kind of deal they’ve got going down there?"

"We’ve known about the arrangements Fredericks’ people have with the gangs." Dallentine informed. "Our sources have been picking up word on something the WMC has been referring to as the ‘Rebirth Project’. The details on that are sketchy, at best."

"Then the Rebirth Project is where we need to hit them." Kirn said. "We’re going to need your help for this."

"Hold on there." Dallentine counseled. "Fredericks hasn’t had reason lately to turn an eye on the Society, and we don’t want to give him that reason any time soon. If you want to screw around with the Enforcers and their bosses, more power to you. But it is not a Society case."

"You want proof?" Rob said. "Fine. Me and Dave can transform again for you. Or maybe Kirn here could show you what kind of tricks he picked up on Neddel."

"You have unusual abilities." Dallentine reasoned. "There’s no denying that. And those abilities are part of the reason you’ve been brought here. As you already know, the Society is responsible for a number of functions. And its most important function is the recruitment of new agents."

"You want us to join?" Voiced Dave.

"In a manner of speaking. We don’t just allow random people in. There are certain tasks that need to be accomplished."

"Initiation." Rob muttered. "Can’t this cloak ‘n dagger shit be made simple?"

"Why should we want to be part of this?" Sera debated. "You just said you won’t help us fight the Committee."

"Not directly." Dallentine stated. "We have resources I’m sure you could never even hope to access. More than likely, we can work something out."

"We don’t just plan to jump in with your little party here." Dave said.

"And we wouldn’t expect you to." Returned Dallentine. "Though some serious consideration on your part is what we’re looking for at the moment."

"If we refuse?" Kirn tossed out the question.

"You walk out of here."

"That simple?" Inquired Rob suspiciously.

"There’s no reason to kill you." Answered Marcus who had been remaining rather silent these past moments. "You could try telling the Committee about this place. Sure, they’ll come here to investigate. But we can evacuate the joint at a moment’s notice. No great loss. Then the Enforcers will start to wonder just how you came by such information and set their magnifying glass on you. I think you can piece together how things could go downhill from there."

"Let’s not all start to get paranoid of each other." Dallentine soothingly said. "We all know who the enemy is. For now, I think maybe it would be best if you were given a proper tour of our facility. Get a feel for the atmosphere. There are a few matters that require my attention, but Marcus can show you around."

"From delivery boy to tour guide." Growled Marcus quietly.

Dallentine paid no mind to the act of insubordination. Apparently, the attitude was something he was all too used to.

"We’ll talk again later." The Society commander declared before getting up from the table. "Marcus will bring you by my office after you’ve had a look around."

The heavyset man exited the meeting room, leaving the five others sitting together.

"So," Rob stood and clapped his hands together. "Where do we start?"

"Come on." The mercenary directed to the door.

They filed out of the room and headed back down the hall to the stairs.

Marcus had led the group down to one of the building’s underground levels. This particular one was used mainly as a motor pool. Rows of automobiles stretched from one wall to the other. Many were common models that probably were put to regular use out on the streets above when the need presented itself. Some of the older cars and trucks were classics and looked to be in remarkably good condition.

Rob could not help but let the smile cross his face. There, in a modest-sized space between a 1976 Cadillac and a new pick-up truck, sat what he would have called man’s greatest achievement in transportation.

"Holy Christ!" He said breathlessly. "Tell me I’m seeing this for real."

"What is that thing?" Kirn asked with an air of interest.

"That, magic man, is arguably the finest piece of machinery put on two wheels. A Suzuki Katana with four-hundred of the most bad-ass cc’s you can find on a bike."

Rob used to have an old beat-up Honda back in his youth, and the sight of the Suzuki brought back a flood of fond memories.

He rushed up to the motorcycle for a better look. One hand went out to the handlebars, but Rob held back from making contact.

The others joined Rob who still could not pull the smile from his lips. Kirn and Sera observed the bike curiously, having never seen such a device before in their lives. Dave rubbed his brow and sighed at Rob’s lack of self-control.

"Oh c’mon, Dave. It’s a Katana." Rob pleaded. "You can’t tell me you never wanted to take something like this for a spin."

"When I travel, I like to have a big shell of metal around me called a car." Dave said.

"You’re never any fun, ya’ heartless bastard."

Marcus kept half a step behind the four. His face showed what could have been described as a trace of pride on seeing the bike garnering some appreciation.

"Have a seat if you want." Marcus offered.

Rob did a double take at the mercenary’s words.

"You kiddin’ me?" Rob held the same hopeful attitude as a child on Christmas Eve.

"That bike would be gathering dust if it wasn’t being polished every so often." Said Marcus. "Besides, it’s nice to see I’m not the only who’s got a thing for crotch-rockets."

Rob straddled the street machine and leaned forward on the handlebars.

"I used to dream of ridin’ somethin’ like this cross-country." He said.

"So this is a type of car." Kirn assumed.

"Like a car? Like a car?" Rob took the statement like it was a good-natured slap in the face. "This baby’s faster, more maneuverable, and a hell of a lot more beautiful."

"Ignore him, Kirn." Dave said. "In a collision of bike versus car, the car tends to win."

"When you’re not Wings, I’ll bet that sword is hidden up your ass." Rob shot back before prodding areas of the motorcycle. "Hey, Marcus, what are these tubes for?"

"Nitro," Marcus answered. "Some upgrades were made when the boys were tinkering with the engine."

Rob’s quickly started scanning the Katana’s gauges in wonder.

"I want this bike to be my wife!" He expanded his smile even wider.

"Let Barbara hear that." Suggested Kirn.

"She can walk away or join in. It’s all good."

"Sick pig." Sera remarked. "Now I see why you and my brother get along so well."

"Well, I think it’s time we moved along." Announced Marcus, skillfully defusing any potential for a battle of the sexes.

"Yeah, better not let Rob get too attached here." Dave agreed.

They made their way out of the motor pool just after Rob took the time to savor one last moment astride the Katana.

"Don’t worry." Kirn said to Rob consoling manner. "Maybe you can come back and visit it some time."

"Let’s go." Rob told the mage. "I wanna’ see what other toys these people keep stashed around."

Thus the tour continued.

Sera observed her reflection in the mirror before her. The image of her now three-foot wide hips stretched across the span of glass.

"You told me pizza was fattening." She said to Dave.

Dave turned away from his own reflection in which his chin rested only inches from his belt and his arms were little more than stubs.

"The mirrors used to be at Coney Island until they got shipped to the Brooklyn Historical Society." Explained Marcus who then pointed to a far corner of the room. "Where it kept company with that fellow over there."

In the indicated corner sat a huge metal eagle that looked to weigh several hundred pounds.

"So how did you folks get a hold of all this stuff?" Asked Rob.

"Connections help."

"What kind of connections?" Dave began to press.

"We stole a lot of it, if you want to be blunt about it."

"And after Dallentine’s rousing speech we started to think the Society was above burglarizing museums."

"Couldn’t be helped. A lot of the stuff we couldn’t save was destroyed. You see, when the Committee just started to get control, they shut down a quite a few public places in this part of the state and turned them into branch offices for the Enforcers. Museums, libraries, even a high school on Staten Island was closed so the new feds could set up shop."

"Your world certainly has an impressive history." Said Sera.

"Sometimes it even surprises us." Dave concurred.

Marcus then reached for the pager on his belt and checked the number displayed.

"And now it looks like the ‘esteemed leader’ is ready to speak with you some more." He told the visitors. "If I know Dallentine, he probably also found someone else he wants you to talk to."

They walked from the trick mirrors and started to pass a line of numbered doors.

"So what’s your take on this place so far?" Marcus asked nonchalantly.

"You’ve got some impressive pull, gotta give you that." Came Rob’s opinion.

"But what about the Society’s real work?" Dave asked. "We haven’t come across that many people since we were brought here."

"It’s right in here." Said Marcus.

The main office of the Society’s headquarters was not seeing too much activity at such a late hour. The guests paid little mind to the working agents and instead were looking all around at the offices bizarre decorating. Kirn, who had a better eye for art, was taking in everything from the fifteenth century tapestries to an old poster for the film Reservoir Dogs.

"This, friends, is what we call the Gallery." Marcus told the four as he guided them past the desks.

"Love the hardware." Commented Rob, regarding the electronics on the tables and chairs.

"Love it while you can. We’re pitching this stuff and upgrading next month. What most people consider top of the line is an antique when compared to the stuff the Committee’s got in their R and D."

"So what do you use all these computers for?" Sera asked. "Do you use them for the In-ter-net?" Her experience with electronic equipment was still rather limited, and the foreign word, "Internet", came very slowly from her mouth.

Marcus looked back to Sera and chuckled.

"Maybe you are from another planet." He shrugged his shoulders in good humor. "I’d say at the very least Montana. Yeah, we use them for the Net. But it’s how we use the Net through the computers that the real work proceeds. Half the systems you see here are dedicated to surveillance on whatever WMC related information we can get our hands on. That’s how we first learned about you. A quarter goes toward making sure that our prying eyes aren’t caught. The rest cover what work is left over: Facility records, communication with other chapters, those kinds of things."

"And Dallentine runs all this?" Dave ventured.

"Just the New York chapter. But yeah, the agents get their orders from him."

"How long have you been an agent?"

"I’m not what you could call a member of the Society." Marcus replied. Something about the idea of him being part of the hidden organization brought an edge of contempt to his voice. "I’m more of a free agent. It’s how I pay the bills."

Past the desks and tables they went. Marcus led the others to the office door with its window of frosted glass. The mercenary did not bother to knock, merely entered with the Hawks in tow.

Dallentine sat waiting behind his desk while Karen Prinn occupied a chair on the other side.

Recognition was the first emotion to register on Rob and Dave’s faces underlined with aggression. Gone was Rob’s easy-going attitude, and Dave suddenly seemed grimmer than usual. Karen also showed that she recognized the two, yet her body language signaled that she was getting apprehensive.

"Mister Thompson, Mister Whitman, I believe you’re both familiar with Karen Prinn here." Dallentine pointed out. "Mister and Miss Stormpheonix, Karen is one of our top operatives. She’s had some past field experience with your friends."

"Looks like you find all kinds of people in the Big Apple." Rob said disdainfully.

"I fail to see what purpose having her here serves." Dave told Dallentine.

"It serves a great purpose considering your brief history together." Countered Dallentine.

"History I’d erase if I could."

"Hold up!" Marcus broke in loud enough to divert everyone’s attention towards him. "I haven’t taken the time to read Karen’s full report, so I don’t know every detail of what went down. But I don’t think she deserves this kind of attitude from you, Whitman."

"It’s alright, Adam." Karen said to Marcus calmly. "Things happened."

"Two lives happened, lady." Growled Rob. "Or should I say ended?"

"Dave." Said Karen. "The book. You still have it?"

Dave shot Karen a look of pure disgust.

"What was the last thing I told you?" The question Dave put forth came out more like a challenge.

"You can’t still feel--."

"What was it?" Interrupted Dave. "Answer that, and maybe I’ll answer you."

Karen took a moment before responding. Marcus could tell that she was mustering up her nerve.

"You said that the next you saw me you’d kill me." She responded after a moment.

"What?!" Exclaimed Marcus. "Karen happened between you and these guys?"

"Her actions were brash. I admit that." Dallentine said from behind his desk. "But were necessary at the moment."

"Necessary?" Rob questioned. His face grew a shade redder despite being able to keep his other facial features in check. "This cold-hearted bitch pulled a gun on us while we were standin’ over the fresh graves of two people we loved."

"Check Karen’s report, Marcus." Said Dave. "I’m sure it’s riveting."

"Both of you, I’m sorry." Karen seemed to carry genuine sincerity in her voice.

"Funny. You said the exact same thing when you held us at gunpoint." Rob shot back.

"Prinn asked to meet with you." Dallentine said. "She told me it was as much of a personal matter as a professional one."

"It’s true." Karen insisted. "Dave, what happened to your family, what you and Rob were pulled into, I just want to say that if I could have kept you from being pulled in, I would have."

"And how does your being here effect anything professionally, if you could call it that?" Dave asked coldly.

"To prove a point." Answered Dallentine. "We’re showing that we are willing to be up front with you should you decide to join with the Society."

"A pretty big risk. Considering how Rob and I feel about one of your ‘top operatives’."

"None the less, Marcus has shown you just a fraction of what we’re all about here." Dallentine continued. "For instance, we could create new identities for you. Even if two of your number are from another world as you claim. You’ve seen some of the resources we have on tap. And we have access to information that you probably don’t."

"Well, having her here already counts as a black mark against you." Dave retorted while nodding in Karen’s direction.

"And how long do you estimate it will be before the Committee finds out who you really are, hmmm?" Proposed Dallentine. "A week? Maybe even a month? Marcus was able to bring you in easily enough. Sooner or later you’ll have to turn in one direction or the next. Might as well have someone willing to help in one of those directions."

Dave’s fell into a lapse of silence, proving that Dallentine had made a valid point. Again he looked to Karen sitting in front of the desk. He then shook his head and directed his attention to the others.

"Rob, what do you think?" Dave asked his friend.

"I can’t say I like the idea of workin’ with Karen anymore than you do. But we both know the clock is tickin’. It’s either crap or get off the pot." Said Rob.

"Sera?" Dave turned to his otherworldly roommate.

"Honestly?" Sera looked to Dallentine with a scrutinizing eye. "I fought Deathblaze, and if I learned anything from that experience, it was that he is not an entity to take on alone. Kirn?"

"The Spirits and a few Ghosts were the only others willing to make a stand." Replied the mage. "Allies have been in short supply for us as of late."

"What does the Society get out of us?" Dave put forth.

"You’re a separate group from the Society, at least as far as the Committee seems to know." Answered Dallentine. "That allows you tangle with Fredericks’ boys without drawing unnecessary attention to us."

"So we’re supposed to do the Society’s dirty work." Rob realized.

"In a matter of speaking."

"I think we’d all be willing to play ball with you, Dallentine." Dave said. "But there are some conditions."

"I was expecting there to be something." The Society leader stated.

"If there’s an assignment you want us on, we want it to have some significance to the Rebirth Project."

"Agreed. But we want your first mission to be of our choosing. Nothing too threatening, just a trial run to make sure you have the skills we could use. After that, you’ll get to disrupt Rebirth. What else?"

"Karen is kept away from any work we do." Dave stated.

The request set with both Karen and Dallentine uneasily. Marcus seemed a bit perturbed by the demand, but held his voice.

"I can assure you that Agent Prinn is more than capable--." Dallentine started to argue.

"I know what she’s capable of." Rob said. "I know. Dave knows. And if Kirn and Sera here knew, they’d want her out of our way too. You don’t have our trust now, and you’re not gonna get it with Karen around."

Dallentine looked to Karen then back to Rob and Dave.

"Done." Answered Dallentine stiffly. "Any other requests?"

The decision took Karen off guard. Whether she was too shocked to speak or she respected Dallentine’s choice was indeterminable. She just kept her gaze bolted to Dave. As for the four guests who were standing, Rob turned to Kirn and Sera who continued to remain silent. Dave replied with a shake of his head.

"Then you’ll hear from us soon." Dallentine said, concluding the meeting. "Marcus, give them a ride home."

"Let’s go, folks." Marcus told the group. "I’ll check out a van for us, and we’ll be on our way."

With Marcus and the Stone Hawks out of the office, Dallentine spoke to Karen.

"I hope you understand the reason for my decision." The Society leader said to his subordinate. His disposition softened considerably with the office emptied.

"Yes, of course." Karen said hesitantly.

"And you don’t have to feel that you failed in your last mission involving them either."

"No, it’s not about failure. Not in the sense that you’re probably thinking about."

"Then why are you being so sullen?" Questioned Dallentine.

"It’s nothing important." Karen collected herself as she rose to her feet. "At any rate, I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. If you’ll excuse me."

Then she was gone from the office. Dallentine walked about the small room to one of the shelves mounted on the side wall. He pulled down a tiny sculpture of featureless, androgens figure frozen in some type of dance. As Dallentine held the statuette in his hands a thought struck him.

"Why didn’t Karen keep pressing Whitman about the Spirit’s book?" He asked himself. Dallentine had always known Prinn to be persistent in such matters. So why did she back off?

It did not matter, Dallentine figured. Prinn had her methods, and everything went well with the new recruits, the whereabouts of the spell book would turn up sooner or later.

Dallentine set the wooden figurine back on the shelf and went back to work.

"Pull right up here." Rob told Marcus from the passenger seat.

"I know the place." The mercenary said. "One of the first things we learned was where you guys lived."

"One thing." Dave said from the back where he sat with Kirn and Sera.

"What’s that?" Marcus checked over his shoulder as he brought the silver mini-van to a stop along the curb.

"Thanks for the assist back there." Returned Dave. "The transmitter in the truck was something none of us had really considered."

"Just remember next time." Advised Marcus with a smile.

"And just when will next time be?" Asked Kirn.

"Don’t call us, we’ll call you. Till then, see you later."

"Thanks for the ride, man." Rob opened his door and climbed out of the van.

The three in the back piled out. Once the doors were shut, Marcus rolled away down the street.

"Damn, what a night." Rob cocked his neck from side to work some of the kinks out. "Don’t know about you guys, but I could go for some rest."

"I’m all for that." Kirn agreed.

They walked up the stairs to their apartments, and Kirn and Rob immediately went to bed. Dave turned on television to watch the news while Sera grabbed a quick shower. She came out later to find Dave sitting at the kitchen table focusing on the city outside the window instead of the glowing screen of the TV.

The young woman had grown accustomed to sleeping in oversized T-shirts. A long, white one hung low to her knees and swished about as she walked like a mage’s robe.

"So you’ve known her." Sera said, pulling up a chair.

"Who?"

"That dark-haired woman, Karen. When she came looking for Arkin’s book."

"Yeah." Whispered Dave.

"Well, what happened with her?" Inquired Sera, showing obvious interest.

"Lots. For both me and Rob, and none of it was good."

"So she was an enemy." Sera deduced.

"Not at first. Karen actually saved our lives when we met years ago. But she just used that to gain leverage."

"And that threat you made? The one about wanting to kill her?"

"Maybe I held back for all our sakes." Dave suggested. "Maybe I just didn’t have the nerve to follow through."

"Or maybe you’re not a murderer. I’m just starting to get an idea of what kind of person you are, Dave. But I can tell you’re not a killer."

"You’d be surprised."

"There’s a difference." Sera pointed out. "My life has been on the line before. Taking a life to survive a battle doesn’t make a murderer."

"You’ve been talking to Rob, I see." Noted Dave.

"He’s a good friend."

"My best friend. So how much did he tell you?"

"He told us about a fight the two of you had with three men. One of them got away and the other two were--."

"Dead." Dave finished the sentence.

"Yes."

"Part of me sometimes wishes that Rob wasn’t there that night. Part of me feels that my world would have been better off if those men had just put me down and taken the book."

"Dave!" Sera exclaimed. "How can you say that?"

"Nobody else would’ve needed to die. Just me."

Sera could not bring a voice past her lips at first. She swallowed and felt just how dry her throat was starting to get.

"Dave. How did it happen? To your family, I mean. What caused them to die?"

Dave fell back in his seat. There was a morose silence that seemed to project from him.

"I remember that day, you know?" His voice was soft, almost tender. "The last time I saw my mother, I yelled at her. She was going to die, and I had told her to shut up.

"I was packing Arkin’s spell book into my backpack when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t paying much attention. Rob and I were going to meet up to decide what to do with the book.

"My mom, she was waiting downstairs for me. She’d just made some lunch for me, but I turned it down. Then she went on about this package that was delivered. There was no name on it, just our address.

"I told my mother I had to go see Rob. She got so insistent about putting my lunch in a bag to bring along with me, said it would only take a minute. That was when I told her to shut up and leave me alone."

Dave leaned forward, and the wooden chair in which he sat creaked softly.

"I suppose you could have attributed it to stress. God only knew the kind I was enduring. But that was no excuse for me to get out of line like I did. Before she went, that’s how she remembered her son. Yelling at her to be quiet."

"Don’t think like that. Not even for an instant!" Sera said. "She would have loved you no matter what you may have said."

"Well if what I said didn’t do the trick, what was sitting on the table sure did."

"The package? I don’t quite understand."

"I wasn’t able to make the connection until I was walking down the sidewalk with Rob. We’d first met Karen a few nights before, and the idea of handing the book over to her had been an option we were talking about at the time. Then this delivery truck slowed down to drive right beside us. The driver, he honked his horn and waved to us. I didn’t recognize him at first, but Rob did. Turned out to be the same guy who came at us and got away."

"By the torch." Sera said softly as she came to the same conclusion Dave made years ago.

"I started running home." Dave buried his face in one hand as he went on. "Rob was right behind me, but he didn’t know about the box that had been dropped off. It was one of those moments where you’re running as fast as you can, but something in the back of your mind is saying you should be able to run a bit faster. You know that kind of feeling?

"I was so close to the house, that I could see inside the big window where my mom always liked sit her plants. Meagan, my sister, she was there with the package. Probably thought it was that lamp she’d ordered on the home-shopping channel.

"The box was opened and then there was this flash. Kind of like the way lightning flashes during a night storm. I don’t know what kind of explosive was used, but the blast knocked both me and Rob off our feet. I must have blacked for a second, because I didn’t remember hitting the ground. When I looked up, the house was gone. Just fire and burning wood."

"I’m so sorry." Sera drew a hand across her eyes, knowing that her welling tears must have only been a fraction of pain Dave was still feeling.

"Don’t be." Dave rasped. His voice held a slight tremor to it as did his posture, yet his face was devoid of emotion.

"What?"

"After my mom and Meagan were killed, I had so many people tell me how sorry they were. I got it from people at the funeral. The firefighters said they were sorry when the house was left black and smoking. Even people I went to school with were sending flowers.

"But I don’t want anyone’s pity. I didn’t deserve it. All I did was hang onto Arkin’s book for too long. I could have handed it off to just about anyone. But I just didn’t want to give it up. My sister, my own mother, they both died because I had to be selfish. It wasn’t the thugs Fredericks hired who killed them, it was me. And the big joke behind it all is that I was left alive at the end to bury them."

"You couldn’t have known what was in that box." Pressed Sera. "Don’t blame yourself."

"Living with that is why I’ve held onto the book all this time." Said Dave. Refusing to concede to Sera’s soothing council. "Sure, I wanted to find the Spirits, but all those nights I spent studying the pages, I would sometimes just fantasize what it would have been like to find a way to bring them back."

"Dave," Sera began. "I never knew you had been carrying something like that around."

"It was a stupid idea anyway." Dave paused for a moment to cough. "I didn’t think raising the dead was likely, and Turoth said changing the past was impossible. Jeez, Rob probably thinks I’m insane."

"Rob has stood with you all this time. He sure as hell wouldn’t if he doubts your sanity." Countered Sera.

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Dave!"

"I’m sorry." Apologized Dave. "I didn’t mean it. Look, it’s late. I…I’ve got to be up for work in two hours. I think we’ll both be better off if we just get some sleep."

"We should probably talk more later."

"Yeah, maybe. I’ll hit the lights for you."

"Leave them on. I think I’ll watch the television for a while before turning in."

Dave simply nodded before leaving for his room.

"Dave." Sera called as she got up from the wooden chair and went to the folded out sofa.

He turned to her, tightlipped and silent.

"I don’t think you’re insane either." She said. "Just lonely."

"Good night, Sera." It was all David Whitman had left to say that night before entering his room.

Sera did not even bother paying attention to the television set. Instead, she watched the light under the door to Dave’s bedroom. Even when the light went out, and the only activity she could discern was the rustling sounds of bed sheets, she watched that door.

And then the soft chime of the wall clock tolled at the hour, breaking her reverie. Taking the remote, Sera took in about an hour of the tube before drifting off to sleep herself.

Back to Chapters Menu Home Bios History and Terminology