Vargas Elm watched his newest followers arrive at the warehouse Jeremy had found as a temporary base for his efforts; twenty five rough and tumble individuals – mostly men, but about a quarter of them women – who looked like the kind of people who preferred to take what they wanted rather than work for it.   They belonged to a gang in Salt Lake City – something Jeremy called an ‘outlaw biker gang’ – but Vargas wasn’t sure if the word ‘biker’ was describing what they were, or what they did.  Either way, they look tough and stupid – just what I need, Vargas thought.  In the off chance anyone tries to stop me, they’ll provide much needed muscle, and if not they’ll provide the much needed energy for the summoning ritual.  How does Jeremy put it?  Win-Win?

 

            Still, he thought, I can’t wait till my work is done, and I can return to Mercia.  With my love restored to life, Awai and I will bask in the glory of our gods and the world will be ours for the taking.  Vargas mused a moment about Mistress Awai, and the love that had grown between them over the last four years working on this project – the project using the soulless Mageborn Dreamers.  Great Hrask will make my sacrifices worth while. I know he will. Vargas smiled to himself, thinking of the vast rewards that he dreamed would be his once he returned to Mercia in triumph.  Gold, jewels, power and great magic would all be his – but they would pale beneath the gift of eternal youth and the return of Mistress Awai to the world of the living. 

 

            Vargas paused his musings, and surveyed his ‘bikers’.  They were setting up bedrolls in the warehouse, and parking their strange ‘motorcycle’ machines inside.  Vargas curled his lip at the strange artifices.  I suppose they work for this world, but they would be useless back home without the nest of highways they possess here.  A riding eagle or a felldrake would be far more useful – even a horse might be more useful.  No matter, he thought.  None of them will be returning with me.

 

            He remembered demonstrating his powers to the gang leaders – having their leader shoot himself in the head with his own pistol was a quite effective way to convince them he could give them the power, money and freedom they craved.  Of course, his promise to teach them his power was a lie – he doubted very much that any of them could even use the Talent, let alone learn it.  No, he thought, their fate is to die in the ritual or shortly before it.  Why teach dead men?

 

            Vargas roused himself from his musings, and began to give instructions to the group of ruffians.  Jeremy and the others should have found something by now.  I hope they don’t take much longer.  I grow tired of this world.

 

*           *           *

 

Jeremy wished this ordeal was over.  Ever since Vargas had used some crazy mental hypnosis to make that biker gang leader shoot himself in the head, he’d been in full on panic-mode.  I’m going to die unless I get away from these guys, Jeremy thought.  I’m not ready to die yet.  Not here, not yet.  Fucking reptoids. 

 

For the last day and a half, Jeremy, Gaius and Flavius had been searching the lakeshore of Great Salt Lake, especially around the estuaries of the three big freshwater rivers that emptied into the Salt Lake.  The first two spots had been a bust, but today Gaius and Flavius were having him check out a small town north of Salt Lake City – some little government suburb full of military families, called Ogden.  For some reason, Gaius and Flavius thought the name of the town was hilarious, and declared they had found the proper place – once they checked the river bed for something they called ‘resonance’ – whatever the hell that was.  Probably some sort of alien ley line or something, he thought.  I probably don’t want to know what it is, really.  The less I know, the more likely I’ll be to survive.

 

He trudged through a tall grassy area well away from where he had parked the car, following Gaius and Flavius, who were still hissing to each other the way they would when they thought Jeremy couldn’t hear them.  I wonder which one of them will be the one to finish me off?  I bet Flavius – Gaius is too busy doing whatever Vargas wants him to do – I’ll probably rate only third banana.  Oh my god, Jeremy thought.  I’m wondering which one of these crazy reptile aliens is going to kill me. I must have a screw loose.

 

The Mosquitoes were still present and biting so close to the water, and Jeremy got bit more than a few times while following Vargas’s two henchmen.  The mosquitoes and midges didn’t seem to like the ‘taste’ of Gaius and Flavius, which wasn’t too surprising seeing as how they probably weren’t human anyway.

 

All I know is whatever they have planned, it’s not anything I want to be involved with – but I have no idea how to get out, how to escape when this all begins to go down, whatever Vargas has planned.  Just keep your wits about you, Jeremy, he told himself.  You’ll figure it out – you always do.  I should have taken the fucking dog sitting job from my ex; maybe I wouldn’t have been here if I had.  What was that people said about hindsight?  Jeremy laughed to himself bitterly.  Murphy is a real asshole.

 

            Ahead, Gaius and Flavius had stopped hissing at each other, and Jeremy finally caught up to them, kneeling in the knee deep water, with their hands thrust under the waves.  They were meditating, like they were trying to talk to the water somehow, or see something within it, that the other rivers had lacked.  I wonder if they’ll find what they seek here, or if we’ll have to go looking for some other godforsaken salt lake? 

 

            Jeremy didn’t have to wait long – in a few moments, the two henchmen stood and shook the water off their hands.  They looked at each other, and for the first time in the time he’d known them, Gaius and Flavius smiled at each other.  It wasn’t pretty – in fact, it kind of creeped Jeremy out – like they knew what smiling was, but not enough to pull it off convincingly.  Instead, it looked like they bared their teeth at each other and grimaced.  It was painful to see – and disturbing.  It was the most emotion he’d seen the two of them show since they left Canada.

 

            “Jeremy, this is the place.”  Gaius said.  “We need to return to your warehouse, and let Vargas know we have found the place he needs.”

 

            Yippee, Jeremy thought.  One day closer to my inevitable death.  Peachy.  Jeremy didn’t say any of what he was thinking, but nodded.  “Well, then we need to get back to the car, first.  And you’ll need to clean up before you get in my car – I don’t want any swampy gunk in my car.”

 

            Flavius curled up his lip in anger, but Jeremy was more than a little annoyed.  I know these assholes are going to kill me anyway, god dammit. At least they can keep my fucking car clean. I have standards.  Still, he felt a chill of fear run through him.  Maybe he’d pushed too far? 

 

            Flavius looked like he was wondering whether to skin Jeremy before cooking him, or just cook him – but Gaius calmed him with a few motions.  “Fine, Jeremy.  We will clean ourselves.  Then you will take us to Vargas.”

 

            Jeremy nodded.  Yippee, he thought sarcastically.  It won’t be long now.

 

*           *           *

 

            Two men watched the last six bikers of the gang enter the warehouse from their car, parked about a block and a half away.  The bikers hadn’t paid them any attention – and why would they?  They were damn good at their job.  They’d been hitting the streets for the last two days looking for the guy those bikers seemed to be working for, and now they’d found him. 

 

            One of the men was Italian in appearance, tall and heavyset with black curly hair, and the other was Nordic and equally tall, with blonde short hair in a crew cut. Scattered food packages and drink cups littered the back seat of their car – they and their comrades had been very busy the last few days – and a few people had had to be roughed up for these two to be here at this moment.  The Italian called himself Marco, and the other fellow, Duri.

 

            “Call Harlan,” Marco said.  “We’ve got him. He’s here in Salt Lake. I saw him when the door opened to let the bikers inside.  Looked like about twenty of them, maybe a few more.”

 

            “Is Harlan expecting us and the others to back up whoever we’re gathering this intel for?”  Duri asked.

 

            “I don’t know, Duri.”  Marco said, a little exasperated.  “It doesn’t matter either.  Make the call.”

 

            “Don’t get upset, Marco.”  Duri laughed.  “I was just wondering.  There’s a fuck of a lot of bikers in there is all – I’m not sure we have enough people.”

 

            “Me either – but right now all I know is we’re gathering Intel.  If Harlan wants the six of us to go up against nearly thirty people, he’ll have to pay triple, or make sure we’re well equipped.”

 

            “Damn right.”  Duri said.  “Damn right.”  He picked up his cell phone and dialed Harlan.  “Hey, Harlan?  It’s Duri – we’ve got your guy…”  They talked for a bit – and then Duri hung up.

 

            “What did he say?”  Marco asked, looking curious and worried at the same time.

 

            “He said wait.  We need to wait for his people to arrive.  They’ll be here soon, apparently.  We’re to meet someone called Erika van Helstrome and her friends at the Super 8 by the south end.  They should be here by tonight.  If they want our help, we’re supposed to offer it.  He offered to pay eight times our fee.”

 

            “Oh hell.”  Marco said, thinking what he and his team could do with that kind of money.  Duri just nodded.

 

            “Damn right.”

 

*           *           *

 

            Marcus took a sip of some of the coffee from Joanne’s office.  It was black and bitter – Joanne was out of sugar - but it also had an off taste that Marcus could only attribute to the local flavor of the water.  James was nearby, at a spare desk, going over various reports of people resembling Vargas that Joanne’s people had been pulling in all day.  He looked tired and frustrated too – a look Marcus felt he was beginning to resemble more and more.

 

            Joanne entered the office, and went to her desk, dropping a pile of paperwork into her in-box, and settling herself down in her office chair, relaxing for a moment, and rubbing the strain in her head out by massaging her temples and the bridge of her nose.  “I just got off the phone with Henkley and Meyers.  They haven’t found Vargas yet, but they’re pretty sure he’s in town.  He’s been gathering up new friends – one of the local biker gangs just upped and left their gang headquarters to relocate wherever he is, which is strange – and their boss was found dead with a self-inflicted gunshot to the head in their headquarters this afternoon.”

 

            “You sure it was self-inflicted?”  James asked.

 

            “Pretty sure.  The CSI’s thought it was pretty legit.  They didn’t see signs of tampering with the body or anything like that.”  She sighed.  “I also heard that we’re not the only people looking for this guy.  Some out of towners are pushing the streets pretty hard to find this guy – and some of the people my guys have talked to say they were pushing pretty hard.  Does this Vargas guy have any enemies?”

 

            “Yeah – a couple.  A suspect or two from the clinic up north, plus a few friends of theirs I’ll bet.”

           

            “Do they have the resources to hire people to beat the bushes for this Vargas guy?  How likely are they to cause a problem here?”

 

            “As far as I can tell, they have pretty deep pockets, and they want Vargas dead.”

 

            “Great,” Joanne said.  “All I need is for some out of towners to start shooting my home town up to settle a grudge. We’d better find Vargas and his people first and deal with them.  I’ll get on the horn and tell my guys to keep looking.”  Joanne grabbed the phone, and began calling her officers. 

 

Marcus snarled.  He hated waiting – but he didn’t know Salt Lake City like the local guys did – and he and James could do in two hours what the local guys could do in two minutes.  It annoyed him to no end to just be sitting here in Joanne’s office.  Vargas is in the frigging city, he thought.  I’m sure of it.

 

James felt his boss’s frustration.  He was still trying to come to terms with the death of his brother – and being so close to the man most likely responsible for his death was maddening beyond belief.  James wondered privately if he’d be able to bring Vargas in alive or not…  His brother and all those other cops and firefighters and paramedics deserved better than letting this asshole out on bail!  It might even be worth it, he thought before discarding the idea.  My brother would roll over in his grave if he thought I was considering murdering Vargas.  He was so idealistic – I guess the job hadn’t beaten it out of him yet.  He deserves better than what he got.   James struggled to hold back the tears, and went back to his paperwork, running down leads regarding the image of Vargas they posted earlier today.

 

*           *           *

 

            Erica turned off Interstate 80 and turned down the next side street – the GPS unit in the SUV was stuttering, claiming their hotel was 800 meters ahead.  Erika couldn’t see it, so she proceeded down the street as the robotic voice counted down the distance to their supposed hotel.  600 meters… 400 meters… The GPS Unit counted down, and slowly Erika saw their hotel come into view.  It was a Super 8 – a clean place to sleep without being unduly fancy.  Just the place to get a good night’s sleep and a decent breakfast in the morning.  And really, Erica thought, that’s all we really want right now anyway.

 

            As she turned the car into the hotel’s driveway, she could hear the sighs of relief in the back seat of the SUV – these long days of driving were hard on Sir Andred and Maeve, who both felt better with a saddle under their rump than the seats of the SUV.  Sir Andred in particular felt more than a little bored at the tedium of being a passenger in a car – but all three of the Mercian’s were used to the ‘hurry up and wait’ that soldiers on any world had to be accustomed to – it was just another annoyance to deal with.  Now, at least, they were able to see the end in sight.  Find Vargas; kill Vargas; go back to Mercia.  Too bad nothing is ever that simple, Erica thought.

 

            “We’re here, finally.”  Erica said as she put the car in park, and unbuckled her seat belt.  By the time she was out of the car – remembering to grab her purse at the last minute – the others were already out and stretching, or rubbing their posterior.  “Is everyone alright?”

 

            “Much better, now.”  Sir Andred replied.

 

            “Same here, Erica.”  Kai added.  “To think we have another three days to go back to your home in this is pretty intimidating – but not as much as dealing with Vargas will be.”

 

            “Aye, and not as satisfying as well.”  Sir Andred grinned – he’d been chomping at the bit to redeem himself in the eyes of the Angel that sent him on this quest to slay Vargas.  It was a matter of faith and honor, as well as a necessary thing.  Sir Andred didn’t like to fail, and swore he would not let Vargas escape him again.

 

            “Enough,” Maeve said, laughing.  “Let’s get checked in and find some food, and maybe we can get a lead on Vargas.”

 

            “Actually, guys, I’m expecting some people to meet us here shortly.”  Erica said.  “When I was talking to Harlan about your being arrested, Maeve, he said he had some people in Salt Lake City who were trying to track him down for us.  If they’ve found anything for us, they should be here soon.”

 

            “Thank the goddess for small favors.”  Maeve exclaimed.  “I was worried that my accident with the local law had put us too far behind to stop him.”

 

            “Is it bad, that I have to remind you, Maeve, that as a part Madragan, you have a duty to respect how much Miyaga could throw a monkey wrench into things?”  Kai grinned.  “She isn’t known as the ‘maid of misfortune’ for nothing.”

 

            “Ugh.  Don’t remind me, Kai.”  Maeve groaned.

 

            Erica waited for a moment, and when no one was forthcoming, she sighed and asked.  “Who or what is a Miyaga?”

 

            Maeve grinned.  Maybe I should have taken an apprentice years ago – I think I actually like teaching, she thought.  “Miyaga is the goddess of luck, both good and bad.  It is said when her favor is upon a person, they can accomplish anything – and when she frowns on you, your doom is assured.  Her priests are said to be able to sense and manipulate luck in much the same way you or I can manipulate magic to cast spells.  They are extremely well respected in the Principalities of Madragoor, along with the worship of Morian, the God of Fate – but is venerated pretty much everywhere on Mercia.”

 

            “Heh.” Erica chuckled.  “We have someone sort of like that here too – ancient people called her Eris, I think – and modern people call him or her ‘Murphy’.  One of the sayings is ‘whatever can go wrong, will go wrong’ – and it seems pretty appropriate at times.”

 

            “Hrmm.”  Maeve wondered.  “Maybe Tiamat isn’t the only Mercian goddess to come to your world in ancient times?  I wonder.”

 

            “There’s a library or two of stuff we don’t know – but that’s kinda interesting.  Thanks for bringing it up.  I take it Miyaga and Morian don’t get along that well – fate versus luck and all that?”

 

            “Aye, you have the right of it.”  Sir Andred answered.  “Two sides of the same coin – arguing about who has control over the lives and fates of mankind.  Maeve also forgot to mention that Miyaga is the mistress of coins – the inventor of currency – and Morian is supposed to have taught ancient man how to read and write.  He is also the patron of Royalty.  His nickname is the Kingmaker.”

 

            Kai laughed.  “Don’t confuse her, Andred.  The God’s have many nicknames.  In Iranor, Morian is known as ‘Jubala of the Eleven hours’.  Even Askeline has her nicknames – Maiden, Mother and Crone, The Dawnbreaker, and others.”  He gave Erica’s hand a squeeze.  “Don’t worry about it too much, Erica – it’ll take time to learn all of our ways.  Just take small bites.”

 

            “Thanks.”  Erica said, squeezing Kai’s hand back.  “It is a lot to take in all at once.  Are you guys starting to understand what it felt like for Christine and I when we first showed up?”

 

            Maeve nodded.  “I do now.  I hope we’ve held up as well here as you did in Mercia...”  Maeve looked like she was going to say more, but cut herself short.  “We’re not alone.  Two people are approaching.”

 

            As the others turned to look, a voice rang out from the two people approaching the quartet.  “Hello there, ma’am!  Would you happen to be Miss van Helstrome?”  One of the pair looked Italian, and the other looked rather Nordic. 

 

            “Um, perhaps?  Do I know you?”  Erica answered.

 

            “No Ma’am.  We’ve been working for Harlan Branscombe – he asked us to be here to meet you, if you are Miss Helstrome.  My name is Marco, and my tall blonde friend is Duri.  We’re investigators.”

 

            Erica let out a breath of air she hadn’t known she was holding in.  Whew!  “I am Miss Helstrome.  Call me Erica.  What does Uncle Harlan have for us?”

 

            Marco and Duri looked at each other, their only comment being a raised eyebrow to each other, as if to say ‘Uncle Harlan?’   They turned back to Erica and Marco pulled out a file folder that seemed to be stuffed with pictures and a few sheets of paper.   “We found the man you’re looking for – the man in this picture.  He’s got himself a gang of bikers working for him – about 30 people, tops, plus a few people of his own.  One of them is a man named Jeremy who we think is a Canadian citizen.  They’re pretending to be some out of town religious group going on a tour, and they’ve been investigating the Great Salt Lake for the last two days.”

 

            “Damn!” Maeve muttered. “We’re too far behind – we need to move now!”  She turned to Marco.  “Are they still in the city?  Which areas of the lake have they been looking at?”

 

            “Um… Last we saw, ma’am, they were holed up in a warehouse in the north end, and were still in town, but that was four hours ago.  We’ve been waiting here for you to arrive.”

 

            Erica stepped in before Maeve’s frustration could alienate the two investigators, or derail what they needed to do.  “We were… delayed unavoidably.  We need to find them, immediately – like right now.”

 

            Marco nodded.  “Here’s the information ma’am.”  He said, handing it over to Erica.  “We can take you to the warehouse if you like – we know the way.  Mr. Branscombe also told us to offer our services if you needed some extra manpower or weaponry to deal with whoever you’re after and his people.”

 

            Maeve nodded.  At last, some good news!

 

            Sir Andred looked pleased as well.  “Ask how many men he has.”  He asked Kai and Maeve.  It was obvious that Marco and Duri didn’t understand him, due to his lack of a translation amulet.  Too bad Maeve didn’t have three of them, instead of only two, he thought. 

 

            “On it, Andred.”  Maeve muttered.  “How many people can you field, and with what kind of weapons?”

 

            Marco and Duri looked at each other, and Duri continued.  “We have 6 men and women, total, with Kevlar vests, and we’re armed with shotguns and pistols.  We haven’t had time to get heavier armaments.”

 

            What’s a shotgun?  I assume Kevlar is some sort of armor curiass.  “Sound good to you, Erica?”  She should know if that sounds like it’s enough.

 

            “It sounds like we’ll need every bit of help we can get. Yeah – that’ll be fine.  I think we might need speed more than firepower in this case.  Can you get us pistols and a shotgun or two if we need them, and Kevlar as well?”

 

            “Yes, ma’am.”  Marco replied.  “We’ve already got most of it in the trunk.  The weapons are divided up amongst our other people, so it won’t be hard to get access to them.”

 

            “Great – let us check in and dump our stuff, and while we’re doing that, assemble your people.  We need to move as soon as possible.”  Erica said.  “Let’s get inside.  I’ll see you soon, gentlemen.”

 

            As the four friends left Marco and Duri standing there, the two looked surprised.  “I didn’t know Harlan had a niece.”  Durin said after a moment.  “Holy crap is she a hottie, too.”

 

            “Yeah, and her friends look like they’re ready to kill a whole bunch of people.  You’d better sit this one out, Romeo.  We’re here to work, first.  I think tonight’s going to be a rough night.”

 

            “You really think they’ll take on 30 people with our ten?”  Duri asked.

 

            “Frankly, from the look of them, they’d have probably tried it without our help.  They’re dangerous.”

 

            “Yeah, well we’re dangerous too, Marco.”  Duri commented.

 

            “Maybe, Duri – but I think not like these people.”  Marco sighed and grabbed his cell phone to call the others.  Maybe eight times normal pay wasn’t going to be enough this time?  He started dialing.

 

*           *           *

           

            Erica and the others checked in, and stowed most of their clothes and non-essential gear in their hotel rooms, then gathered for a quick discussion.

 

            “I think we can trust these guys to help.”  Erica said.  “The extra manpower will be helpful against Vargas’s biker gang.”

 

            “I just wonder if they’ll keep their cool once spells start getting thrown around?”  Maeve asked.  “They’re bound to notice we’re using swords and knives, hatchets and such rather than many of their guns.  Do you think they can keep quiet about it afterwards?”

 

            “Yeah – I’m pretty sure Harlan pays extra to keep things quiet.”  Erica answered.

 

            “No matter how we feel,” Sir Andred interrupted, “We need them.  Thirty men and women, whom Vargas no doubt considers expendable, may be too much for us to deal with and still stop him from resurrecting Tiamat.  He could begin the ritual at any time – we should move now.”

 

            “Any last minute preparations or prayers?”  Maeve asked.  “My suggestions are more for Erica – I know you two know how to survive a large battle.”  She turned to Erica.  “Keep aware of your surroundings.  Don’t let your guard down for a moment – death can come from anywhere in a large battle.  Keep your spells small and inventive, like we talked about before – and save the zappy green fire for when things get really, really bad.  Remember, we don’t have any healers here who know what to do if you get Kissed by the Void.”

 

            “I remember.”  Erica said.  Oh shit… it’s really about to happen, isn’t it?  We’re going to head down to wherever Vargas is and try to kill him.   It started to sink in to Erica that the final plays were about to be made, and how serious the stakes were about to get.  She started worrying, and beads of sweat started on her brow.  She wasn’t scared of the battle to come as much as she was afraid of losing the battle to come.  The stakes were too high.

 

            “Good.”  Maeve said.  “Let’s go.”

 

            By the time the four of them arrived outside, Marco and Duri had made their calls, and grabbed a duffel bag from their car.  “Inside are four Kevlar vests, with inserts.”  Marco said.  “Dave and Sarah got here a few minutes ago,” he said, pointing to the two new arrivals.  “Larry and Ned will be here soon.  They’ve got the shotguns – but Dave has the pistols.”

 

            Dave stepped up, and held another duffel with the four pistols with reloads inside it.  “Just keep them out of view, ma’am – we definitely don’t want to be pulled over.”

 

            “I’ll deal with any police we meet.”  Maeve said, firmly.  “They won’t be your problem.  Vargas is the problem – he’s a maniac who will kill thousands if we don’t stop him.  Your team’s job will be to deal with the gang.  We’ll deal with the gang as much as we can, and go after Vargas and his buddies.  Keep the gang off our backs as long as you can.”

 

            “If this guy is a terrorist, shouldn’t we get the police involved?”  Dave asked, more to Marco than to Maeve.

 

            “Nope. Not if you like being paid.”  Marco said.  “We’re getting eight times our fee on this one.”

 

            “Holy crap!  Well, never mind my outburst then.”  Dave grinned – the idea of eight times his normal pay for what they were about to do seemed rather appealing to him.

 

            “I trust your people will keep this under wraps?”  Maeve asked Marco.

 

            “Definitely.”  Marco answered.  “We know who butters our bread.”

 

            Erica interrupted.  “Good then.  We need to leave now – we can get the shotguns when we rendezvous near the warehouse.  Everyone saddle up.  Marco, call your people on the way and have Larry and Ned meet us there, if they aren’t there already.”

 

            “You got it, Ma’am.”  Marco said, heading to his car.

 

*           *           *

 

            Vargas looked at Jeremy in the drivers’ seat of the car.  He looks nervous.  Perhaps our helper has begun to see the truth about us?  I think perhaps his usefulness has come to an end – not that it will matter in a few hours.

 

            “So Jeremy, where did you say this Ogden town was?”  He asked.

 

            “About twenty miles north of us.”  Jeremy replied, watching out for the many motorcycles and their riders, who virtually surrounded his car.  “Due north on the interstate.”

 

            “Good.  I trust we’ll be there soon?”

 

            “Maybe twenty minutes with good traffic – or an hour or so with bad traffic.” 

 

            “Thank you Jeremy.  You’ve been an indispensable help with my journey.” 

 

Vargas smiled at Jeremy, and it was almost like a human smile – like Flavius or Gaius had practiced a great deal.  Jeremy gulped.  Oh shit…  Whatever they’re doing, it’s happening today.  I’m gonna die.  Jeremy tried to hide his feelings, and simply smiled back.  “Thanks’ Vargas – it’s been a pleasure.  Your gold helped too.”

 

            “I’m sure it did, Jeremy.”  Vargas smiled back.

 

            Jeremy simply nodded and kept driving.  No matter how it was going to end, it wouldn’t be long now.

 

*           *           *

 

            Marcus and James were still running down leads when Joanne burst into the room they were using as an office.  “Hey, you two – we need to go, now!”

 

            Marcus rose and grabbed his jacket.  “What’s up Jo?”  He could see James was doing the same thing.

 

            “Henkley and Meyers just called in – they think they’ve found the warehouse the gang that upped and vanished moved to, and they saw a car with Canadian plates parked there too.  It’s registered to a Jeremy Pierce – does that ring any bells?”

 

            “Nope.  Not really, Jo.  Did anyone see Vargas?”  Marcus asked.

 

            “Meyers thinks he did.  They were all at a warehouse in the north end, but they moved out about twenty minutes ago.  Want to check it out and see if we can find where they were going?”

 

            “Damn right we do!”  Marcus replied.  “James?”

 

            “Definitely.  Let’s go.”