51: At the Gold Nugget Café

Alex gulped and felt the blood drain from his face as he continued looking up at the Vala, remembering the first time he had met ‘Nate’ in this café. He suddenly realized that it was the same booth as before and wondered if the Vala haunted it or something. Nate gave him the ghost of a smile, as if he’d read his thoughts.

Finlay, meanwhile, was scowling, giving Nate a belligerent look. “Who are you and what business do you have with us?”

Nate stared down at him, saying nothing at first, and Alex saw Finlay pale. Nate broke eye contact with the man and Finlay actually shuddered and Alex shivered a bit in sympathy. The Vala, meanwhile, snagged a chair from a nearby table and sat in it backwards, removing his wide-brimmed hat and setting it on the booth beside Alex as he leaned his arms on the back of the chair.

 “How are your classes going?” Nate asked Alex. “You enjoy teaching?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure… uh… the classes are fine,” Alex replied, wondering at the Vala’s purpose in asking him such inane questions. “And teaching sure beats dodging bullets.”

“I’m sure.” Nate said in satisfaction.

Just then, Esther came over carrying a mug of coffee, setting it before Nate. “Here you go, Brother. Just the way you like it.”

Nate gave her a gentle smile.  “Thank you,” he said simply and she nodded before going off to see to other patrons. Nate took an appreciative sip of the coffee and then looked at Finlay. “So, Edward, why don’t you tell us why you’re so interested in Farrell.”

“What’s it to you, anyway? Who are you?” Finlay hissed in anger. “And how the hell do you know my name?”  

“You can call me Nate. I’m a friend of Alex.”

Alex felt an urge to deny that relationship, but on second thought decided against it. When Finlay looked at him for confirmation, he just shrugged.

“And that’s supposed to make it all okay?” Finlay retorted, speaking to Nate.

“For now,” Nate replied. He appeared calm and his tone was conversational but Alex thought he detected something harder and darker behind the Vala’s nonchalance. “You shouldn’t let your pot roast go cold.” He gave Alex a significant look and Alex dutifully picked up his fork and resumed eating. Finlay continued to glare at Nate, ignoring his dinner.

“Who the hell are you?” he snarled.

Nate sighed, putting his mug down. “Edward, Edward. Did your little stint in Sakari’s village teach you anything?”

Finlay visibly paled at Nate’s words. “How did you—?”

“How did I know about that?” Nate asked, looking amused. Alex wasn’t sure if Nate finding anything amusing was a good thing. “You’d be surprised at what I know, Edward. For instance, I know that as soon as you reached Barrow, you ditched your fellow agents, refusing to return to DC with them, and spent several days buying weapons. AK 47s and AR15s and the like. You have quite a little arsenal now stashed in that cooler in the back of your jeep. You planning on doing a bit of hunting?”

“Your arsenal is in a cooler?” Alex couldn’t help asking.

Finlay shrugged. “Jeeps have no trunks and it’s a rental so I wasn’t able to modify it. A cooler works. No one thinks twice about a guy having a cooler in his vehicle.” He looked at Nate, glowering. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

“Who are you gunning for, Edward? Alex? Farrell? Or is it for protection for your lovely bride?”

Finlay paled. “You leave her out of it!” he hissed, grabbing his dinner knife and holding it out in a threatening manner. Alex wanted to warn him as to the futility of that gesture, but decided Nate didn’t need any protection from him and went back to his pot roast, evincing nonchalance, as if the conversation the other two were having had nothing to do with him. Nate stared at the knife in Finlay’s hand and grinned. Somehow that didn’t comfort Alex at all and Finlay actually dropped the knife with a gasp, reeling slightly and looking away. Whatever he saw in Nate’s eyes apparently scared the daylights out of him. Alex wondered if the guy would faint or make a mess in his pants, and sincerely hoped it would be the former.

Finlay, however, did neither, taking a few deep breaths to get himself under control. When he spoke again, it was in a whisper and he never looked up from the table. “I spent three months thinking about that night when it all went south. I’ve analyzed it backwards, forwards and inside out. Something was definitely hinky about the entire operation from the get-go. I don’t know who in the Agency to trust anymore and if they decide to send an enforcer after me to take me out, I intend to be prepared.”

“Who gave you your orders, Finlay?” Alex asked. “Maddy swears up and down that she never did even though Farrell made it sound as if she had.”

“Dolan,” Finlay replied. “At least, it came from her office.”

“You didn’t speak to her directly?”

Finlay shook his head. “No. I got the assignment the usual way.”

Alex nodded, knowing what he meant. Most assignments were sent to an agent via an encrypted email. While all assignments were sensitive, some were more sensitive than others and those were generally given out during a face-to-face with one’s supervisor, but such assignments were rare.

“You think someone in the Agency set you up,” Nate said, making it a statement more than a question.

“Yeah, I do,” Finlay replied with a nod, “and until I know for sure or differently, I’m taking every precaution to keep me and Sakari safe.” He frowned and craned his neck to look around the café. “Where is she, anyway? She should’ve been back from the ladies by now.”

“She’s fine,” Nate said soothingly. “She’ll come back when things are safe.”

Alex looked up at that, alarms ringing in his mind. “Safe? What do you—?”

Finlay started to get out of his seat, apparently to go in search of his wife. Nate reached over and pushed him back down with a negligent shove while simultaneously speaking to Alex. “You may want to duck.”

“Huh?” Alex just goggled at the Vala.

“Duck. Now.”

And such was Nate’s tone that Alex did exactly that. Even as he was falling face down onto the booth seat he heard a familiar sound of glass shattering and something whizzing by where his head had been. Someone screamed and pandemonium struck the café with people shouting and falling to the floor. Alex looked to where the bullet had gone, relieved to see that it had missed hitting the teenager who had been sitting at a table across from them.

“What the hell?” Finlay shouted as he joined Alex underneath the table.

“Finlay, my gun!” Alex exclaimed, holding out a hand to the other agent. Finlay reached up to where his coat was squashed in the corner of the booth and pulled it to him. His hand snaked into a pocket and he brought out the GLOCK, handing it to Alex, who had retrieved his own coat and the magazines, slipping one into the gun, automatically checking the safety and shoving the other into a pants pocket.

In the seconds it had taken Finlay to hand Alex his gun, no other shots had been fired. Alex cautiously started to sit up so as to gauge the situation more easily.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Nate said conversationally, calmly sipping his coffee, ignoring the Mortals cowering under tables while people who had been in the adjoining store were congregated at the doorway gawking. Even as he spoke, another shot rang out, causing people to scream again. Nate never flinched. Alex ducked again, quietly cursing in three languages as he inched his way off the booth and onto the floor. Finlay followed suit, his own gun in his hand. Alex vaguely noticed that it was a .40 S&W. It wouldn’t have been his first choice for a weapon but it was serviceable enough. He suspected though that Finlay had bought whatever he could find in Barrow, whether he preferred it as a weapon or not. The two met by Nate’s chair staring at one another.

“Farrell?” Finlay asked.

“Has to be,” Alex replied with a nod.

Finlay muttered something scatological in a language Alex did not know though it sounded vaguely oriental. Nate, still sitting calmly in his chair, looked down at the agent. “Does your wife know you use that kind of language?”

Finlay glared up at the Vala, then gave Alex a puzzled look. “What is it with this guy? Bullets are flying and he sits there like it’s nothing.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Alex replied. “Those bullets came from high up,” he said, pointing to where one of the bullets was lodged in the wall. “He’s got to be in one of the buildings to the side, on the roof maybe.

“Angle’s a bit screwy,” Finlay said. “How can he even see us? There’s no direct line-of-sight. He would’ve done better to shoot from the Safeway.”

Alex shrugged. “Maybe, but distance would be a factor. He would have had to shoot across the entire length of the square. Let’s go find him, shall we?”

They made their way past tables and booths, keeping low. Everyone else was crouched under tables, looking scared, especially the children. Some people were speaking hurriedly into phones, but whether they were calling 911 or their loved ones Alex didn’t know or care. A few, seeing the two agents sliding by carrying weapons shrank back in terror, but they were ignored. Somewhere in the distance, sirens sounded.

“Cavalry’s coming,” Alex muttered to Finlay. “Let’s make this quick.”

Finlay nodded but just as the two got as far as the other end of the counter where the cash register was, they were stopped by a pair of shapely legs with feet stuffed into a pair of orange day-glo sneakers that really did not go with the blue gingham dress the person was wearing, but looked very comfortable to Alex’s mind. The two men looked up to see Esther standing there with hands on hips, glaring at them. “Sneaking off without paying, are we?” she asked.

“Get down, you fool!” Finlay snarled as he reached up and grabbed her nearest arm and pulled her down.

“Relax, Edward,” Esther said with a smile. “The danger is over, I assure you.”

“How do these people know my name?” Finlay exclaimed to Alex, looking perplexed. “Do I have a sign on my forehead or something?”

Alex snorted and stood up, put the safety on and removed the clip, shoving the gun back into its holster and the magazine into a pocket. Finlay just goggled at him. “Are you insane? Get down, man!”

“If Esther says the danger’s over, then it is,” Alex said, walking back to where Nate still sat in his chair. Sakari was back as well and the two were quietly conversing in what Alex had to assume was the woman’s native language since he did not recognize it.

Finlay saw his wife and got up to go to her, speaking in French. “Est-ce que ça va, ma petite?”

The woman looked up with a smile. “Oui, ça va.”

“Crisis is over with, people,” Esther called out. “You can return to your dinners.”

Remarkably, people came up from under the tables and retook their seats, picking up forks and resuming eating as if nothing had happened, though not a few cast surreptitious looks at Alex and Finlay.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Finlay demanded as he pulled Sakari into his embrace, addressing Nate. “Who are you?”

Sakari whispered something in her language. Finlay started, staring at his wife in surprise. “Un guide spirituel?” he demanded. “C’est absurde!”

“Little do you know,” Alex muttered. He sidled into the booth, carefully avoiding the broken glass and craned his neck to look out what was left of the window, shivering slightly at the cold. He pointed to his right. “There, either above the bookstore or the bakery next to it.”

Finlay released his hold on Sakari to bend down for a look. “You sure?”

“Check the angle,” Alex said. “If he shot from over that way,” — he now pointed to his left — “like where the flower shop is, the bullets would’ve hit you instead of me.”

Even as he was speaking, the sirens became very loud and they watched as three police cars ignored the fact that the square was a pedestrian-only area and drove up to face the café, police pouring out and leveling their guns at the building. More sirens sounded and they saw a fire truck and an ambulance also being driven up the square. People who had been walking around visiting the shops had scrambled out of the way. Apparently no one outside had noticed the shooting.

“He used a silencer,” Alex muttered as he pulled himself out of the booth, grabbing his coat. “Let’s go meet the cavalry,” he suggested to Finlay, who nodded, grabbing his own coat, speaking softly to Sakari, telling her to stay put. They didn’t get far, for two police officers came rushing in, their weapons drawn.

“Freeze!” one of the officers yelled and Alex and Finlay stopped, their hands raised.

“They’ve got guns!” a little girl screamed, pointing at the two agents. Her mother pushed her arm down and quietly scolded the child.

“Easy, fellas,” Alex said in a non-threatening tone. “I’m Alex Grant. I’m going to reach into my left coat pocket with my right hand for my wallet.”

The officers hesitated for a second, and then one of them nodded. “Don’t do anything cute.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Alex slowly moved his right hand and reached into the pocket, pulling out the thin wallet with his concealed carry permit. He held it out and one of the officers took it, flipping it open, showing it to his partner.

“Says here your name’s Meriwether,” the officer said, casting him a suspicious look.

Alex cursed silently to himself, having completely forgotten that he hadn’t updated the permit with his new name. “Ah, yeah, about that….”

But he was saved giving an explanation by the arrival of Dave Michaelson, who took in the situation at once. “Stand down,” he said softly and both officers holstered their weapons.

“Hi, Dave,” Alex said with false cheerfulness. “Come to join the party?”

“Alex, I should’ve known you would be behind this.”

“Hey, I was having a quiet dinner with a friend and his wife when the shooting started.”

Michaelson glanced at Finlay who was looking bored. “Friend?”

“Ed and I go way back,” Alex said with a nod, and then added, “Way back… to academy days.” He gave the police chief a significant look that Michaelson understood.

“I see,” he said. “So you want to explain what happened here?”

At that point, Nate got up and came toward them, bringing Sakari with him. Michaelson saw him and gulped. The two officers with him actually took a couple of steps back and one even went for his gun before realizing what he was doing and forced himself to stop.

“So who died?” Michaelson asked in a strained voice, looking around to see if there were any bodies.

“If you mean, here in the café, no one,” Nate said with an amused look. “I made sure of that.” He glanced briefly at Alex before turning his attention to Finlay. “You should return to the village, Edward, as soon as you are able. This is not your fight, at least for now. Later, perhaps, but not yet. Teach the children what you know, all that you know.”

Finlay gave him a puzzled look. “I agreed to teach them English and French.”

“Yes, but there are other skills that you have that you can teach them. Prepare them, Edward. Prepare them for what comes.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Finlay practically shouted, his face suffused with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. Sakari put out a comforting hand, looking concerned. She might not know what was being said, but she obviously knew her husband was upset.

“War, Edward,” Nate said calmly, though his tone darkened and became colder, causing more than one of the listeners to flinch. “When you return to the village, speak to Sakari’s father. He will know what needs to be done.” Then he looked at Alex and Alex forced himself not to flinch. “I saved you because others asked that you be protected, but it would be better if you asked it for yourself.”

“I’ll think about it,” Alex said, not willing to commit himself that far.

“Do not think about it too long, child,” Nate said gently. “David, Farrell is Alex’s concern, his and the Elves. They will deal with him.”

“I do wish everyone from God on down would stop telling me my job,” Michaelson retorted. “I will decide what is and is not my concern where it impacts on the lives and safety of the people I swore to protect.”

“Farrell is out of your league, Dave,” Alex said before Nate could reply. “Trust me on this.” He looked at Finlay. “I wish you would stay and help, but I understand why you won’t.”

“If it weren’t for Sakari….”

“I know and I don’t blame you. If I were in your shoes, I would do the same.”

“What I don’t get is how he knew you would be here,” Finlay said. “Has he been camping on the roof without anyone noticing just on the off-chance you would come strolling along so he can take you out?”

“It does seem odd, but until I catch up with him to ask, I guess it’ll just have to remain a mystery,” Alex responded.

“We’ll get forensics here to examine the evidence,” Michaelson said, then he raised his voice to address the others in the café. “I’ll need statements from everyone, so no one leaves or enters until I say so.”

There were groans from several people, probably those who’d been ready to leave before the shooting started.

“I know, I know,” Michaelson said sympathetically. “We’ll try to get everyone on their way as quickly as possible.”

“Well, you’re wasting your time, Chief,” an older gentleman wearing a business suit said from where he was seated at a table. “I guarantee you that most if not all the statements will be pretty much the same as mine, which will be something along the lines of ‘I didn’t see a thing, Officer. There was the sound of glass breaking and then people started screaming. I think there was a second bullet and then those two began crawling along the floor with guns out. Esther stopped them and then you guys showed up.’ End of statement.”

“C’mon, Dave,” a woman said, “I’ve got better things to be doing than sticking around here telling Jared here just what Scott said.” She made a gesture toward one of the police officers. Several people voiced their agreement to that.

Michaelson sighed and raised his hand. “Fine, just give the officers your names and where to reach you and then you’re free to go.” He gestured to the two officers who nodded, pulling out notebooks and pens as they began circulating among the patrons. “Alex, you and your friends stick around. I have a few questions for you.”

“I want a look at the roof over the bookstore. That’s where we think the shots came from,” Alex said. “Farrell’s long gone, but he might have left some evidence behind, though I pretty much doubt it. He won’t be that careless.”

“You leave forensics to us,” Michaelson said sharply. “I don’t need you or anyone else mucking up a crime scene.”

Before Alex could offer a retort, someone entered the café. Michaelson turned around to stop him and then groaned when he saw it was Finrod looking curiously about him. Finlay gasped and his jaw dropped, his eyes widening at the sight of the Elf. Sakari, he noticed, actually smiled and gave Finrod a short bow of respect.

“C’est un ange, Edward,” she whispered reverently.

Finlay gave his wife a disbelieving look. “Spirit guides and angels? What the hell’s going on?”

“How the hell did you get past my people?” the police chief demanded of Finrod. “I left strict orders no one was to be allowed in here.”

Finrod gave him an amused look. “Since they did not see me, they could not stop me.”

“Oh, for the love of… I give up!” Michaelson threw up his hands in disgust. “Elves with Jedi mind tricks. That’s all I bloody need!”

Finrod gave them a puzzled look. “What is a Jedi?”

Finlay turned to Alex. “Is he serious?” And Alex wasn’t sure if he meant Finrod or Michaelson and just shrugged, figuring that was the safest course to take.

“Take a deep breath, David, and relax,” Esther said soothingly. She had been standing beside Nate, but now moved behind the Mortal and began giving him a neck massage. Michaelson started to protest and then his eyes glazed over and he sighed deeply. “There,” Esther said with satisfaction. “That’s much better. You’re much too tense, child. All is well. Alex and the Elves will deal with Farrell. You just worry about the normal criminal elements that plague Wiseman, all right?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” Michaelson said somewhat dreamily.

Alex noticed the two officers, still taking down names, rolling their eyes and giving one another knowing smiles. He wondered if this was not the first time the chief of police in Wiseman had received treatment from the Valië of Rest. Esther nodded, giving Michaelson a final massage before releasing him. Michaelson blinked, as if coming awake, and gave the Valië a shy look. “Ah… thanks,” he said.

“My pleasure,” Esther replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I still have customers who need attention.” She wandered off to speak with an elderly couple who wanted some dessert and more decaf.

“And I have other business to attend to,” Nate said, shoving his hat on his head. Alex would have sworn that the Vala hadn’t had it in his hand previously. He gabbled something to Finrod in what Alex recognized as Quenya, though he did not understand it, having only taken a couple of classes so far. Finrod nodded, gabbling something back and then Nate gave them all a nod and walked out of the restaurant and into the adjoining store, though Alex was sure the Vala never bothered to leave by way of the door but simply faded away.

Finrod spoke then. “David, I am going to have Alex come with me to Edhellond so we can inform Glorfindel and the others. You know where to find us if you need us.”

Michaelson just nodded. “Stop by the office tomorrow when you can and give us a statement for the records,” he said to Alex, then turned to Finlay and Sakari. “We’ll need one from you two as well, so don’t plan to leave just yet. Where are you staying?”

“The Goldmine Inn,” Finlay said. “My wife doesn’t speak English, though, just French or her native lingo,” Finlay said.

“Iñupiaq or Qawiataq?” Michaelson asked.

“Ah… not sure. Her village is west of Barrow, along the coast. That’s all I can tell you.”

Sakari said something and Michaelson answered back. Alex gave him a discerning look. Michaelson just grinned. “I had an Inuit girlfriend back in college. This was before I ever met my wife, Janna. Kirima came from Barrow and taught me her language. It’s a subdialect of Northern Alaskan Iñupiaq spoken among the tribes along the arctic coast. Come along to the station tomorrow with Alex, Mr. Finlay, and I’ll make a point to be there as a translator for your wife.”

“Yeah, well, I have office hours beginning at ten, so I’ll be at the station around nine,” Alex said.

“Fine by me,” Michaelson replied. “Okay, get going. I’ll let you know if forensics finds anything.”

“Bring your friends, Alex,” Finrod said and turned to leave.

Alex rolled his eyes at Finrod’s imperious tone.

“So who’s the dude in the cloak?” Finlay asked.

Alex grinned. “You’re about to find out. C’mon, let’s pay up and get out of here.”

“Don’t worry about that, boys,” Esther said calling out from the other side of the café as if she had actually heard their conversation from twenty feet away. “It’s on the house. Off you go now. You don’t want to keep Finrod waiting.”

Alex and Finlay exchanged looks and shrugged almost as one. “C’mon. Let’s vamoose.”

“After you,” Finlay said as he took Sakari’s arm and followed Alex out.

****

Words are French:

Est-ce que ça va, ma petite?: ‘Are you well, my little one?’

Oui, ça va: ‘Yes, I’m okay.’

Un guide spirituel? C’est absurde!: ‘A spirit guide? That’s ridiculous!’

C’est un ange: ‘It’s an angel’.