The Blood Order (Fanghunters Book Two) (32 page)

Dom gulped. "Oh yeah, Rhino Peacock! I got my animals confused there..."

"Have you found the needle yet?"

"Affirmative."

"Positive?"

"Affirmative."

"Ace."

"We've toasted the bullfrogs, found the needle in the haystack, and we're about to recon via the chopper to the roof of the I-Sore building."

"The what?"

"The I-Sore building."

"Dumbass! There's no such place. You mean the black fingernail!"

"Yeah, sorry, Rhino Peacock--"

"HUSKY FLAMINGO!"

"Sorry, Husky Flamingo, it slipped my mind. We've toasted the bullfrogs, found the needle in the haystack, and we're about to recon via the roof of the black fingernail."

"Radio in when you land."

"Roger out!"

The radio went dead. Dom puffed his cheeks. "All those frickin' code words are enough to drive you insane."

"So, now they're expecting us," Trixie noted. 'This is on."

"Certainly is," said Miranda, her face solemn.

"Ready Dom?" Trixie asked.

Dom shrugged. "I guess so."

A big grin then broke out on Miranda's face. She clapped her hands, attempting to lift the mood. "Spiffing! Now, why don't you two go and make any final preparations, while Mack jumps in the pilot's seat and gets himself acquainted."

"Come on, Dom," Trixie said, "let's get changed."

CHAPTER THIRTY

D
om and Trixie got into their disguises; combat pants, khaki tops, boots. On their heads
,
they pulled on balaclavas, finishing off the Blacklake effect.

"I feel like a dumbass," Dom declared.

"You look like one," Trixie told him.

"Ha ha, if
I
do, you do too. Man, this is so not gonna work."

"Don't start, Dom. We got no other choice."

They went out to the back yard where Miranda was waiting. "Wow, you two look the real deal," she said.

"This is so not gonna work," Dom told her, adjusting his balaclava.

"Don't talk nonsense, Dominic," Miranda said, approaching him. "Now tuck yourself in," she said, grabbing his khaki tee and stuffing it into his pants.

"Thanks, Mom."

"There, that's better," Miranda said, stepping back and checking him.

"Man, this so isn't gonna work," Dom repeated.

"You'll be fine," Miranda countered with a flip of her hand. "Stop fretting and get in the chopper."

"Mack ready?"

Miranda turned to face the pilot's seat. Mack was fiddling with buttons, hip flask in hand. "Ready as he'll ever be."

"He know what to say?"

"I've briefed him. He'll do his job. Trust me, have I ever let you down, Trixie?"

"Can't say you have, Miranda."

"Well then. Now get going will you and bring Vincent back. The poor devil must be terribly lonely in that wretched building."

"Let's go," said Trixie before she stepped up to the door of the helicopter and pulled it open. She jumped inside. She took her seat and turned back to see Dom still standing on the grass outside. "Come on," she urged.

Dom took tentative steps up to the helicopter. He climbed inside and took the seat opposite hers.

The moment he did, Mack started up the rotors. From behind his balaclava, Dom stared at the rotors with dread. He didn't do heights well, never mind being trapped inside a small metal bird. He watched the rotors spin as if mesmerized.

Miranda then stepped up to the open doorway, her hair ruffling under the air created by the rotors. "Mack will wait for you while you rescue Vincent. If you don't report back to him within an hour, he'll leave and dump the chopper."

Trixie buckled herself in. "Got it."

"Belt yourself in, Dominic," Miranda demanded.

Dom did as he was told like a good boy.

Miranda nodded her approval. "Now, do be careful out there," she said to them both. "The bigger kids can be frightful bullies."

"Don't worry about us, Miranda," Trixie said. "Bullies we can handle."

"Just make sure you come back in one piece."

"Certainly will," Trixie replied.

"Good luck," Miranda said with a smile. She saluted them both before she slid the door closed. The whoop of the rotors dulled.

"Ready for liftoff?" Mack asked them both as he began tying back his hair.

"Ready as we'll ever be," Trixie shouted right back.

"Hey, they got a stereo in here and some CDs," Mack informed them. "How about we liven things up?"

"Shoot!"

"How about some of this?" Mack said as he fiddled with the stereo. A second later, the ghostly solo riff of
Welcome to the Jungle
by Guns N' Roses began swirling through the helicopter. Trixie started nodding her head in appreciation. Dom just stared. Mack took another swig from his canteen. He gasped in satisfaction. And then came the drop; hot drums and energetic guitars. Mack placed on a pair of shades and began banging his head. "Hold onto your butts!" he shouted over the blasting music. He threw up the collective and they shot into the air.

The sensation threw Dom off balance. "Woah!" He fell forward, reaching out and grabbing the first thing he could find, which was Trixie's thigh.

She threw his hand off. "Hey!"

Dom spun his head to face her. "This feels weird," he shouted as they jumped further away from the ground, the music getting louder. Dom's stomach flew up to his ears; nausea began to whirl inside him. It was like riding on a dinghy without the water.

"Get a grip," Trixie shouted at him.

"I've never been in a helicopter before, okay?" Dom shouted back.

"You think
I
have?"

Dom shook his head. "How the hell do I know!"

He turned his head to the side; he was met by very dark sky. His eyes rolled down and he spotted Miranda; she was tiny, a small toy figure standing on a sea of grass. She was waving up at them. Dom's face contorted in anguish and he pulled his head back. He sat in his seat like a cardboard cut-out, his hands gripping the sides. His head swam, his stomach churned, and still the chopper went higher and higher, meeting the sky, Guns N' Roses still raging.

"Yeeha!" came an abrupt cry from the pilot's seat.

Dom closed his eyes and gulped.
Oh my God, this guy's a nut!

The helicopter then swung to the right; Dom's stomach went with it. "There's no place like home, no place like home," he repeated to himself in an insane mantra.

He flicked his eyes back open; he looked down again. The world was now like a model replica; Chicago was passing by in a haze of blocks and burning lights.
I feel like I'm in the elevator at the end of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,
he thought to himself
.

The helicopter cut through the air at a rapid speed, covering mileage at a crazy pace. It was at moments like this that Dom knew he wasn't cut out for the army, or for a mercenary force; he just couldn't handle the amount of air travel. He began deep breathing and he found that helped. He was gradually growing accustomed to the sensation of bobbing on the air a hundred miles up in a metal bird with Guns N' Roses blasting in his ears. His chest began to calm and he ventured to have another look down. Downtown Chicago was fast coming into view. A patch of forest-like buildings intersected by a gash of a river. The whole area radiated an angelic glow from the lights, burning the night sky a rust color. Dom squinted his eyes to study the area. And he saw it. Sticking up like a giant nail or black fingernail was the I-Sore building. It was dark and brooding, no lights at all emanating from it bar the blinking red LEDs attached to the roof to warn low flying aircraft of its existence. A black-tinted box of secrets. A pylon of whispers. Dom gulped.

The music then went low. "Black fingernail, this is Rhino Peacock, come in," Mack said into his radio.

Dom watched him with anxious eyes.

"Black Fingernail, this is Rhino Peacock, come in, over."

"Rhino Peacock. What is your status?"
came a reply accompanied with crackle.

"Preparing to land, over."

"Affirmative, someone will be up to meet you. Over."

"Get ready!" Trixie shouted above the noise of the rotors.

Dom sucked in a big breath of air, steeling himself. He closed his eyes and muttered a small prayer, to who and for what, he didn't really know.

He watched on as they began to make their descent toward those flashing red lights on the roof of the I-Sore. They were like the eyes of a waiting spider, its web a myriad of tinted glass windows stitched together with steel beams. Who knew what was waiting for them in that building; the non-public floors were like Chicago's very own Area 51--no go zones unless one had clearance. A place where those who wished to remain hidden could do so under the guise of commerce. A place where the mantra of 'security threat' was utilized to ward off snoops and prying eyes. And they were about to delve deep into its confines; a young gun fresh off the street and a chick who could pull off a summersault with the guile of a dolphin leaping through rough seas; both of them armed with dart guns. He grabbed his head and rubbed it, the realization setting in that they most probably wouldn't walk back out of that black tower. He looked around him; the man-made forest of the Loop sprawled like a contagion. He thought of Vincent, a prisoner inside that fortress; the man who was trying to save both him and his brother from these creatures of darkness. He thought of him bound and gagged like that weirdo back at Whiplash; the only difference Vincent being tortured against his will. A sudden anger usurped the nausea and fear. This is what he'd signed up to: war. A war between what he believed to be good and evil. And right then, he was being sent in on a rescue mission. A rescue mission that had to succeed. Had to.

"All right," he said to himself with a steely nod. "Let's do this!"

A soft hand fell on his knee and he flinched. He rolled his eyes down to see Trixie's small hand there; she squeezed his knee. He looked up to meet her stare; her flawless emerald eyes gazed back at him from within the faceless mask of her balaclava--the two were a total contrast; they just didn't fit at all. He caught slight signs of fear slushing around in those eyes, but he also saw a determination, an abundance of strength, a compassion solidifying her irises, injecting him with equal measure the same way vamps jab their venom into the veins of humans.

She gave him a small nod of her head and he knew, somehow, he knew she was smiling beneath her mask; he could see it in her eyes. He thumped his knee. "I'm ready! Let's do this!" he shouted, pumping his chest out. "Let's frickin' do this!"

Trixie leaned in and gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder.

Dom glared downward to see they were now hovering over the roof, a giant 'H' embossed on its surface directly below them. Lights blinked all around them in synchronized patterns as they began their descent. As they dropped, Dom's stomach flew up. He sat back and closed his eyes for a moment, then looked down again. The surface of the roof was approaching fast, all around him red lights flashed like warning signs. He glanced over at Trixie; the red LEDs were winking in her irises. Dread was creeping back into his mind. Butterflies fluttered through his rearranged stomach.
Keep it cool,
he kept telling himself.
Remember why we're here!

In the next instant, they made contact. The skids hit the roof and they bounced up again. Dom rocked in his seat.
Woah!
Mack tried again, this time getting his landing more fluid. The skids touched the roof once more, and this time they stuck. They were now steady, back on land, kind of.

"We made it," Trixie said in a relieved whisper, looking around with wide eyes.

"No problemo," Mack said before he got on the radio. "Black fingernail, this is Rhino Peacock. We've just landed, over."

"We'll be right there."

Mack killed the engine and the rotors began to slow to a lazy whirl. Then everything went eerily silent. He turned in his seat to face them. "Remember, if you don't make contact within an hour, I'm outta here."

Trixie unbuckled her belt. "Understood."

"Good luck in there," Mack said with a sincere smile before turning and flicking buttons.

"So where's the welcoming party?" Dom asked in a nervy voice while undoing his belt.

Trixie slid the door open, releasing the outside world; it was silent, bar the distant drone of downtown Chicago traffic way down somewhere below. A cold air cut through the helicopter, shivering Dom to his bones.

"Come on, let's go," Trixie said, before she stepped out of the helicopter. Dom slid across the seat and followed her up. He threw his legs down and landed his feet on the concrete roof. He turned and threw the door shut behind him. He then looked around. A black night sky stared back at him, those blinking LEDs all over the roof now appearing like detonators; get too close and they'll go off.