The plane trip was excruciating for Dragonfly. Dragonfly had hoped to get inside the cargo hold of the jet, but was forced to merely hold on to the wheel assembly inside the well. While it was, fortunately, a very brief flight to Chicago, the temperature outside was below freezing. In the wheel well, with wind rushing past at 300 MPH, Dragonfly was sure the windchill must be something like 50 below. In fact, if it hadn't been for the fact that his training involved extensive breathing exercises, he was sure he would have passed out and fallen to his death.
Fortunately, that did not happen, and all Dragonfly suffered for his impetuousness was frostbite. He'd have to see a doctor when he got back to Stevenson. As the plane slowed and lost altitude, Dragonfly dropped out of the wheel well and activated his wings, dropping down to runway level quickly to limit his chances of detection.
Dragonfly shadowed the jet as close as possible, hoping to gather information as the passengers disembarked, while avoiding airport security. He waited a few minutes after landing, and the ramp came down. Several Italian men in heavy leather jackets came off the plane. The bigger ones, probably hired muscle, carried the luggage.
Dragonfly listened carefully, but either the Chicago wind whipping past his ears hid the sound, or they said nothing as they walked toward the small private terminal. Dragonfly was careful here, as undoubtedly they would be searched or questioned by security here. He hoped to stay out of sight long enough for that to happen. He was surprised to find inside the terminal only a limo and a driver; these guys must have some political clout, to just zip into O'Hare with whatever bags they wanted and drive off.
Still, it made this simpler. Scanning the building for security cameras, Dragonfly saw two on the ceiling near the entrance. Pulling out his humming bomb and adjusting the settings, he tossed the bomb to an area he hoped would hit both of them. The “bomb” went off, sending out its sonic signal and shattering the glass lenses on the cameras. Because of the height of the cameras and the fact that he didn't want to destroy the roof, Dragonfly had had to set the humming bomb at a low power level. Unfortunately, this alerted the Nex dealers to his presence without damaging them in any way.
As he approached, sword drawn, three of the men, the two “baggage men” and the Nex dealer he remembered from previously, drew their pistols and prepared to fire. Dragonfly was prepared for this, tossing shuriken at two of the men's faces while landing near the dealer and lashing out with his blade in an upper cut. The blade cut clean through the man's jacket and made a shallow but painful vertical slash from abdomen to collar bone.
The shuriken were easily avoided, and were intended only as a distraction. It worked. They were going to take a few seconds to recover their aim, and that was more than enough time. Dragonfly moved fluidly under the gun arm of his opponent and pivoted behind him. In less than a blink, Dragonfly had his sword at the man's neck.
“Drop your guns, now!” he shouted as the two other passengers of the plane, neither of whom appeared to be armed, moved in closer to the limo. The two thugs complied, dropping their pistols. The original Nex dealer held out longer, even though the blade was at his neck. Nevertheless, he dropped his pistol after a couple seconds, without a word.
Well, that went well, Dragonfly thought, surprised a little at the ease of this phase of his plan. Now to phase 2. What the heck was phase 2? Dragonfly realized he'd been so intent on capturing these men, he hadn't really thought about what to do when he won.
The two passengers were older men, probably in their mid-fifties. They seemed to be merely observing the situation, unconcerned about the outcome. They looked as if they'd already won. That made Dragonfly uneasy.
“Hey, Aaron my boy, let's put these weapons down and discuss things in a more reasonable tone!” said one of the two, a slightly balding man with a large nose and the grayer hair of the two.
Dragonfly struggled to think of some smart remark about how he held the cards, but the words stuck in his throat. The man had called him “Aaron”. Not only did he recognize Dragonfly, costumed hero from Stevenson, but he knew who he was!
Dragonfly's prisoner started to chuckle. Dragonfly spun around, prisoner and all, in a smooth motion to face the older man. “I guess I have you at a disadvantage,” the man said smugly with a twist of sarcasm that was not lost. “I know your name and you do not know mine. You can call me 'Benito', for now. I don't imagine we'll be speaking much after this. You see, not only do I know your name, I know a lot of things about you. I know where you're from, where you live. I even know the name of that dark-haired bella you're dating.”
Dragonfly steeled himself. I can't let these guys get away, he thought. “My name's irrelevant, Benito. It's my job to make sure people in Stevenson are safe. Nex makes that difficult.”
“Yes,” the man nodded. “I've seen that is the case. I think we can come to an agreement here. I'm done with Stevenson. It's small, and my organization has outgrown it. No doubt you've already seen a decrease in the amount of Nex on the streets. So this is my deal to you, and I highly recommend you take it, you little insect: I will pull out of Stevenson entirely over the next month. In return, you butt the hell out of my business. Or the next time we meet, I might have a blade at the throat of someone YOU love! Now let us go and get out of here.”
Aaron didn't know what to do. His training didn't prepare him for this sort of moral choice, and he'd often regret the choice he made at that moment. Aaron dropped his arm, and backed away carefully. Benito gave an order for the men to holster their weapons, and the last thing Aaron saw of them as he flew away was all the men getting into the limo.
Dragonfly briefly considered following the limo, but it was pointless at this juncture. He couldn't openly threaten their operation, not with the lives of his loved ones at stake. Plus, he had gained some information he might use later, though he wasn't sure how at this point.
Instead, taking off his wings, Aaron went to one of the gift shops in the airport, bought a Chicago Bears sweatshirt to go over the top of his costume (and keep him warm) and made his way to the train for downtown. There, he planned to catch an Amtrak home, on which he could bundle up, fight off the chill that was coming over him as the adrenaline wore off, and re-think some things.
No comments:
Post a Comment