Canyons of Steel - Our Solemn Hour Pt. 8

Maxwell winced as the doctor looked over his injuries. Naomi stood in the room, watching carefully as Maxwell sat completely still during the procedure. The doctor hummed and hawed, making comment that the injury wasn't too bad, but it could have been a lot worse. For the bumps and bruises that both he and Naomi had, at least they were well deserved. The bad guys had been captured. It made the pain worth it.

“I really hope this doesn't affect my opening comments to the new class,” Maxwell stated through clenched teeth. The doctor just sighed and shook his head. Maxwell looked to the doctor with questioning eyes. “What?”

The doctor looked to Naomi, speaking with a tired voice. “Can you make sure that he takes a few days off to recuperate. The last thing he needs is to stress the injury more.” He looked back to Maxwell and spoke with a stern warning. “And no crime fighting when you get back home.”

“I think that'll be simple enough, Doc,” Naomi stated as she leaned against the wall. She looked to her side and smiled as her son leaned against her leg. “Ready to go back home, Squirt.”

“Mom!” Petey whined as she used the tame nickname. “Can we go to Uncle Max's ranch? I wanna see the horses again.” Naomi smiled at the question and nodded.

“See,” the doctor huffed as he overheard the boy. “Spend time with your family. I'm sure that your employers will understand if you take some time off.” Max shrugged and nodded in reply. He didn't think he'd get anything less from the doctor save stern warnings.

As the examination continued, Naomi walked her son back into the lobby area. Her mind was filled with questions. Self doubt, in a way. What if what she was doing wasn't helping? What if it didn't really matter? No matter how hard she and Maxwell tried, the criminals would always come back. Maybe the public didn't care about them.

She huffed as she took a seat in the lobby. Petey crawled up into her lap and she grunted with a laugh. “You're getting to big for this, Petey,” she said with a smile as she put her arms around him. And then, she saw it. Another boy in the lobby. Playing with his toys.

And it was then that she really noticed it.

The young boy had a pair of action figures, but both had something strapped to their backs. Wings. The boy flew them through the air, making his own game, but at the same time, making Naomi realize something.

“Come on, Billy,” a woman called out to the boy. He quickly packed up his toys and rushed over to the woman, perhaps his mother. “Did you have fun?”

“Oh yeah...” the boy cried out excitedly, explaining what he was doing. And stating boldly, that he wanted to be like the two superheroes he saw the other day.

And Naomi smiled. Because she realized that yes, she and her brother do make a difference. One person at a time.

*****

Tunguska, Russia – 8:14 p.m. - August 24th, 2002

Elite Red Army soldiers watched as the transport carrier landed on the old runway. They had been informed of the cargo from United States prosecutors. Extradition proceedings went without any intervention. Authorities wanted Dimitri out and they knew the Russians had a long list of charges against him. After all, the man was a psychopath.

“Ensure the prisoner is heavily guarded, comrades,” Commander Lina Gregarin shouted out to the soldiers. “We will nyet be losink such a criminal as this one.” Gregarin knew all to well of Kovolenko's rap sheet. She had studied his crimes as a cadet before she joined the Moscow police. He was worse than any criminal she had ever arrested. “Dimitri will pay for his transgressions as he freezes in the cold of Siberia.”

Soldiers raced to the cargo hold, weapons held firm as they awaited the prisoner to be brought forth. Gergarin tensed slightly. Something was wrong. The pilots were taking too long She furrowed her brow and tightened her grip on the rifle. “Comrades, be ready. We are gravely deceived.” With her last word, an explosion rocked the cargo ship, quickly followed by a volley of bullets from the hold of the plane. Soldiers were cut down easily like stalks of wheat. Gregarin cursed the long coat she wore, making her movement difficult. Racing across the snow, she dropped the rifle, then shed the long coat. She could bear the cold, there was more important things to worry about than her comfort. She took the pistols she wore from their holsters and scanned the area. Dimitri was covering himself quite well.

“Ah, my old tovarich,” Dimitri finally called out. “Has been a long time since we were together, nyet, comrade.”

Lina clenched her teeth and cursed in her native Ukranian. This man had to be stopped. “You are a devil, Dimitri. Anything we may have had is long in the past. I bear no feelinks for you now.”

Dimitri laughed aloud at Lina's comment. “Ah, then in that case, for all the times we shared. Spasibo. It is unfortunate that now, I will have to be killink you. My little Tovarich.”

Canyons of Steel - Our Solemn Hour Pt. 7

Johnathon Tiberius Walker tapped the keys lightly. It was over, but he had two things to do first. A call to an old “friend”, and then to see his daughter. It was time to make a better life for himself and his little girl. Even if it meant only for a little while. She deserved to have some sort of a normal life. Away from the shadows that the Sisterhood had built up around her. Away from the corruption that dared to infest her life. These thoughts filled his mind as he found the communication rig. He grumbled slightly, muttering that Indigo was so much better at this than he was. Maybe it was his thoughts that distracted him. He wasn't certain.

But he never even heard Grey Kestrel.

“Tell Malcolm I got his message,” Naomi said in a quiet, calm voice. Walker turned slowly and his eyes met hers. She was alone, no police, no authorities to lead him away to prison. He expected a woman like Kestrel to bring back up. He was a bit taken aback with just the sight of her, alone. In a way, he was a bit relieved.

“Monty always had a way o' sayin' hello,” Walker said with a kind smile. “Means he likes ya.”

Naomi laughed aloud at the thought. “No offense, Malcolm's not my type. But tell him thanks. The small toy went to my son. Petey will put it to good use.”

Walker nodded slowly. Naomi had a son. Maybe that alone would make her understand. “I got a little girl, m'self. I need ta do alla this, all the deception, ta get her to a safe place. I hope ya understand.”

“I may not like your motives,” Naomi replied with a sigh. “But at least I do understand. And at least you tried to help Gerald. He'll never have the use of that arm, but at least he's alive.” Naomi crossed her arms and studied the gunhand for a moment. “The agents of the Sisterhood may have escaped, but at least we captured Dimitri and his agents.”

Walker nodded again as he leaned against the console. “His agents'll rot in some jail cell fer a long time. But 'xpect Dimitri ta get out somehow. He's got friends that like his ... talents. Man's a monster, an' sadly, there ain't no way ta keep a man like that down. Somebody's always gonna want 'im ta keep kickin' 'round.”

“And what about you?” Naomi said as she stepped forward. “You gonna keep kickin' 'round?” She perked an eyebrow with the last two words as she attempted to imitate the drawl of the Texan. Walker just laughed and took out a Pall Mall.

“Oh, I'll be here an' there,” he said, pausing to light the cigarette. “Ya can at least count on that.” He took a long drag off the cigarette and exhaled. “Now, Lieutenant. If y'all excuse me, I got someone ta send a message to. I'm gonna ask ya don't track us. But ya can guarantee that we just might meet again. The world the way it is, our paths'll cross soon 'nough.”

Naomi watched the Texan for just a moment before turning to slowly walk out of the building. “Take care of yourself, Walker,” she called back to him. “Keep shootin' straight.” Walker chuckled as he watched Naomi leave. She and her brother were interesting people. The world needed heroes like them. Maybe, in time, his daughter could grow to be like them. He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he concentrated on the task at hand. It was time to make that call to an old friend.

Wouldn't Lieutenant Christa Rayne be surprised?

Canyons of Steel - Our Solemn Hour Pt. 6

Dimitri Kovolenko stared at the computer screens, his brow furrowed in deeper understanding. Somehow, Operative Violet Rose had contacted an agent of CSIS to intervene. To stop what the Illuminati had set out to do. He took out his communicator and brought up the co-ordinates of his superiors. They would definitely not like this. One of their highly respected soldiers had gone rogue. As he waited, he took out a fine Cuban cigar and lighted it, inhaling deeply. Soon, he connected to his central group. “Da. This is Kovolenko. Rose has... how you say, fallen from grace. He think is better to become hero and stop what need be done.” He paused as he listened to the orders of his superiors, a twisted smirk “Understood, comrade. Will take care of it, immediately.”

He moved slowly as he put away the communicator, an eerie chuckle rising in his throat. He would enjoy this a great deal. But, it would be a long time coming. “I suppose you felt the boy's life wasn't worth anything.” Dimitri heard the voice behind him. The professor. Hawk's Scream. His smile darkened as he turned, ready to intimidate his opponent. But he wouldn't get the chance.

As he turned, his face met a very powerful, and fast fist. It was more than surprising, it was painful. Maxwell Running Cloud had decided the time to pull punches was past. It was time to punish this man before the proper authorities could take him away. He drew no quarter, gave no opportunity for a pause. Maxwell kept the offensive up, throwing blow after blow against the Russian.

Dimitri was not a small man. If compared, Maxwell was probably five inches shorter and maybe 75 pounds lighter. And Maxwell knew this man could orient himself to put up his own defensive. Dimitri did not disappoint. He replied with a powerful punch of his own. His large meat-hooked hand slammed into Maxwell's face. He'd feel that in the morning, as he felt a small snap. Maybe even longer. But he pushed back the pain and kept up his assault. This man had to be taken in.

As Dimitri swung out again, hoping to hear the familiar and welcoming sound of breaking bone, Maxwell dropped and swung out his leg. Maxwell aimed carefully, knowing that no matter how big the giant, they all had a weakness. That weakness became evident as Maxwell heard the crushing of bone as his foot slammed into Dimitri's knee. And the giant roared in pain, falling to the floor with a thundering crash.

“Men like you are all the same,” Maxwell said through the pain he felt. “you believe power is all you need to rule a nation. It isn't. Compassion, education. People will follow if you lead them, teach them. Not heard them like sheep, telling them what to believe and how to live.”

Dimitri pushed himself up against the wall. His face twisted into a wince as the pain seared through his knee. But he still found his bravado. “Comrade. There will always be people like me. You can nyet stop us. In time, the people will realize, we are here for their own good.”

“To take away their freedom,” Maxwell quickly added for the Russian. “To rule over them with an iron fist.”

Dimitri laughed as he listened to Maxwell. “You do nyet know, how the world works, comrade. These things, they are inevitable.” He smirked as he looked to Maxwell. “A man such as myself would nyet stop fightink against a man such as me. You have only allowed me to find my strength again.”

“No,” Maxwell replied evenly. “I was just waiting for the others.”

Dimitri's eyes widened as he realized the ruse that Maxwell had used on him. His fight, while crushing in a way, was not to physically win, but to lull the Russian into a false security. Until the proper authorities arrived.

And arrive they did.

Behind Maxwell the doors of the small warehouse opened with a thunder. Columbus police officers and riot officers rushed in, rifles aimed at Dimitri when they found target. Shouting for the Russian to surrender. Dimitri complied, falling back to the floor as he raised his hands, a scowl on his face as he realized the simple trick the Dakota man had played on him. He sneered as his arms were manhandled by the officers, and he shouted out to Maxwell. “No prison can hold me, comrade. I shall meet you again.”

Maxwell just watched Dimitri as the officers forced him up, weapons still trained on the former KGB agent. The large Dakota man caught sight of Captain Schwartz and nodded in his direction, then looked back to Dimitri. “We shall see,” was all he said in reply.

*****

The ambulance was now classed as evidence. Police poured over it as Naomi watched them. She had to tell the truth that she had recognized Monty. Truth to a point. She said she recognized him, but only after they had arrived at the hospital. Her only concern was making sure Gerald was safe.

Still, she did not feel exactly vindicated with her decision. Rose had escaped. A wanted criminal, gone into the shadows again. And now, with his betrayal of the Illuminati, even more difficult to find than before. At least Maxie had captured Dimitri. That was some consolation at least.

Naomi let out a sigh as she leaned against one of the pillars in front of the hospital. Why did things like this have to happen to good people? She really didn't know, maybe some day she'd learn this secret of life. But today...

The thought was pushed aside as something caught her eye. Something out of place, hanging from the upper portion of the pillar. She reached up, and caught a hold of it, pulling it down. And Naomi smirked as she studied the plushie. A toy wallaby. A note was attached to it, which she read with a smile.

Sorry, Shiela. Maybe next time. Love the suit, by the way.

Love, Monty.

Maybe next time indeed.

Canyons of Steel - Our Solemn Hour Pt. 5

He was fast, maybe faster than Maxwell had ever seen before. His fighting skills were incredible. It was everything he had just to be able to parry any incoming blows. Maxwell knew he had to begin an assault of his own. But he also knew his fighting ability was based on raw power, not the finesse that this man had. Which meant he had to keep his wits about him.

Grey 6-2-6 pulled his punches. This man was not a target, nor would he become a casualty. He knew that Walker would need him, because his raw power could be the edge needed against someone like Dimitri.

The battle was slow, as each combatant studied the other carefully before making an attack. Maxwell had one advantage. His ability to fly. But Grey wasn't allowing him to grab a hold of him. That was the mistake of the other agents. Grey's movements were quick, but they had a purpose. Force his opponent into a situation. The battle would be about positioning, but it would not take very long.

Maxwell landed a few well placed blows, but could tell that Grey was anticipating them, moving his body to better take the blow. It was frustrating him, and even he could tell his own anger was coming forward in his attacks. This was exactly what Grey wanted. He wanted Maxwell's emotion to take control of him, and second guess defenses. And it worked.

Grey punched forward with an open hand strike, catching Maxwell off guard as his amplifier came loose, falling helplessly to the ground. A good offensive strike, it didn't do much damage, but it caught Maxwell napping. And Grey pushed the attack forward. A low, leg sweep, knocked Maxwell down, and Grey pushed two fingers quickly to touch nerves on the Dakota man's chest. They weren't deadly, nor painful. But Maxwell found himself helpless in any attempts to get up.

Grey stood over Maxwell, crouching to speak to him in an even tone. “I could kill you at any moment,” he stated as though the two were discussing the weather. “But that is not my purpose. I am not your enemy. The Russian. He should be the one you seek. Operative Violet Rose and his agents have no wish in harming the boy.”

Maxwell blinked a couple of times as he struggled. Taking a deep breath, he let his mind calm down, taking in Grey's words. “Why the deception? What is your purpose?”

Grey merely chuckled as he rose to his feet. He reached out and took Maxwell's hand, hauling him up to his feet with ease. Suddenly, Maxwell could feel the muscles in his body reacting again, moving as he wanted them to. Grey took a step away from the large man and only whispered. “Dimitri. He is your target. Dimitri Kovolenko. Take him down, and the boy will live.” He said not another word as he continued to step backward. Maxwell blinked as it seemed the man simply disappeared into thin air.

He shook his head and snapped back to his senses. Quickly, he retrieved the amplifier and placed it over his nose and mouth, clicking on the comm as he adjusted it carefully. “Captain? I have a lead. And a name. Dimitri Kovolenko. Mean anything?”

“Nothing that I've heard before,” Schwartz replied over the comm. “But, a Russian?”

“That's what I've got,” Maxwell said as he took a few steps and lept into the air. “I'm going to see if I can find him.” His wings spread as he rose higher into the air, allowing the anti-gravity device to carry him up. He heard the acknowledgment from Captain Schwartz over the comm, but did not respond. He had a bigger purpose now. He had a life to save.

*****

She used her wings to slow her decent as she saw the ambulance. There were four around it, two men, two women. Naomi knew she had to move quickly, the boy's life was hanging in the balance. She only hoped that they could get him to the hospital faster on ground than she could in the air. What are you thinking, girl, Naomi mused to herself. There's no way you could fly that fast with two people in tow.

The attendants acted quickly, strapping the boy in and getting him into the back. The girl was shaken up a great deal, and one of the female attendants dealt with her needs. But Naomi sensed something wrong as she watched them work. There was something familiar about two of them.

Bet there's a thousand places you'd rather be, 'ey mate?

The sudden smile, the charm, the twinkle in the eye suddenly came back to Naomi. And her ire rose in volumes. Quickly, she grabbed the Aussie by the collar, nearly screaming as she slammed him against the door of the ambulance. “What do you think you're doing, you sonofabitch?”

She was met quickly with the business end of a revolver. Crimson Luna was quick on the draw, but she had a good teacher. Naomi found herself in a standoff. Monty smirked slightly as he spoke. “Sheila. Best let go so we can do our business.”

It wasn't Monty's voice that caused Naomi to back off. Nor the barrel of the gun pointed at her head. But the sudden cool drawl that came from behind her accompanied by the calm hand that gently rested itself ontop of Crimson's pistol. “Best let us go, Lieutenant Runnin' Cloud,” Walker said evenly. “The boy don't have a chance if we keep fightin'.”

Naomi looked over to the calming voice of the Texan. She knew that he was wanted by every police agency in the world, but something about the way he spoke. His words seemed to calm without much effort. And his eyes, there was a kindness in there. And something else. He was tired, “I ride shotgun,” she replied as she let go of Monty's collar. Walker nodded slowly to her as his three agents began seeing to the boy. Naomi could tell just from their movements they knew exactly what they were doing. It was a military precision, but still, they worked to save the boy.

Walker moved to the driver's side as Indigo closed the doors of the ambulance. Naomi followed, her wings collapsing into a compact state so she could take a seat in the ambulance. “You realize after this is over, you have to surrender,” Naomi said in an even tone to Walker as they both took their seats.

The old gunhand simply turned the key and the engine roared to life. He took a deep breath and waited for the signal from the back. As it came, he put the vehicle in gear and began to drive. “Lieutenant,” he finally said as the ambulance screamed down the street. “If I were wantin' ta give up, I'd let ya take me. But there's more in the world 'n just me an' mine that've done wrong. An' ma'am, no offense, but ya ain't in the right league ta take 'em on.”

“We'll see,” was her only reply. She looked out the passenger window as the siren screamed aloud and buildings passed by quickly. She raised her hand to her ear, adjusting her earpiece as Captain Schwartz began his hail. “Lieutenant Running Cloud, Captain. I read you. Yes, the boy is fine. On route to hospital now.” She looked over to Walker as the Texan lazily drifted a gaze toward her. He knew that she had to tell the police who was in the ambulance. He expected it.

But sometimes, he found that the unexpected still existed.

“Operative Violet Rose is nowhere to be found,” Naomi announced. “Members of the terrorist organization known as the Sisterhood were discovered on scene.”

“We've had a report from Professor Running Cloud,” Schwartz announced. “He says he's searching for a Dimitri Kovolenko.”

The comm was loud enough for Walker to hear. And he said in a low voice to Naomi. “Kovolenko is ex-KGB, completely insane, an' a cold killer.” Naomi studied the gunslinger for a moment before repeating the words to Schwartz.

“We'll inform the professor, Lieutenant. Over.”

“Over, Captain,” Naomi replied. “And out.” She looked toward Walker as the emergency ramp of the hospital came into view. “What now?”

Walker looked to her as he brought the ambulance to a stop. In the back, Six, Indigo and Crimson quickly took Gerald into the double doors. Nurses and aids rushed to assist them. And Walker just smiled. “Thank ya, Lieutenant. But ya best be goin' now.” Maybe it was the sound of his voice. Perhaps the sincerity in his words. Naomi didn't know for certain.

All she did know was this man was no threat. Not anymore.

Canyons of Steel - Our Solemn Hour Pt. 4

I'm flying high, Naomi. Trying to use the sun.

Got it, Maxie. Captain, we'll be on radio silence as we move into position. If we need you, we'll give you a holler.

Understood, Lieutenant. We'll be here. Watch your six.

*****

It didn't take long for Maxwell to find his targets. Just as Naomi had seen, a group of men crept through the shadows of the building. They weren't police officers, that much was certain. No identifying marks were visible, but they were heavily armed. Maxwell knew he had to move cautiously. Like a predatory hawk, his wings lifted him into the air as he glided into position, placing his form in the heart of the sun. Just as old World War II dog fighters, he'd come out of the sun at them, and hopefully, take them by surprise. As the small group stopped to check their surroundings, Maxwell went into a dive, tucking the wings close to his body. His outstretched hands at the ready to grab two of the men. This had to be timed carefully. One false move and he could break both his wrists. He had to estimate the weight of the "packages" and alter his ascent again. And manage to maneuver so as to keep the other two confused.

The four didn't know what hit them. There was hushed cries of surprise as suddenly, two of the agents were lifted off the ground. But Grey had his suspicions. Walker had already briefed them on what to do in the event any of them came in contact with Hawk's Scream or Grey Kestrel. But Grey found that he couldn't help but watch Maxwell. The beauty, the grace, his ability to fly was a marvel, if not something man made. Grey could only watch as the pair of agents fell earthward, predicting the crunch of bone and cries of pain. Maxwell had flown up into the air high enough to do some damage, but not kill them. And Grey knew it was a quick take down, enough to even the odds a bit more. He looked to the one remaining agent that was standing, as Maxwell dove down again, barraging the injured agents with a flurry of blows. This agent was young, and nervous. He continually held up his rifle, trying to aim, but finding he couldn't get off a good enough shot. Grey knew this agent would not last long in the field.

Maxwell rendered the last of the pair unconscious with a hard blow to the head. His training as a boxer in high school and university helped a lot. But he found his ability to fly added a whole new aspect to his fighting abilities. Once the two agents were down, he turned his attention to the other pair. One stayed close to the wall, seeming only to observe the scene carefully. The other looked nervous and jittery. He clutched his rifle with a death grip. This agent was probably just as much a danger to Maxwell as he was to himself. And so, Maxwell rushed forward toward the agent.

And the agent fired. Out of fear, out of nerves. It didn't matter. But the shot was point blank at Maxwell's chest.

*****

Naomi watched the enclosed spaces carefully. The four figures had been seen traveled toward the science buildings of the campus. Population was generally low in that area at this time of year. Few students, perhaps only a few faculty. And Naomi knew that these women would not reveal themselves by taking a chance at firing upon bystanders. From her research, they were professionals, hired to handle the dirtiest jobs with relative ease.

She knew this area would be a perfect spot for Gerald. Why? Late teens boy. With his girlfriend. His hormes were doing the thinking for him. In this situation, something that could very well get him killed. But so far, there had been no sounds of a fight. Then again, this was the Sisterhood. Naomi would be prepared for the worst, should it happen.

As she lighted on a rooftop, sprinting to the edge as she prepared to take flight again, she heard a scream. It sounded like someone in a great deal of pain. She quickly adjusted her location, and determined the area the scream came from. It didn't take her long. Gerald stood in front of his girlfriend as four black clad figures advanced on him. Naomi narrowed her eyes as she saw the reason for the scream. Gerald's skin was turning pale white, as though he were afraid, or even worse, from a lose of blood. The latter was more likely. And Naomi saw it fully as she began her descent, wings spread to help guide her and break her fall. The boy's hand had been cut off.

Naomi became a protective mother, screaming in closer to her targets. The first of the four was the tallest, a blond Amazon, from all looks of European decent. Even from the height Naomi was racing in from, she could tell the woman was taller than she was. But height doesn't matter when you have the advantage of flight. Sister Valhalla was taken completely by surprise. And it was that one mistake that put her on the ground, but not out. She jumped to her feet quickly, as the other three stepped back in disbelief. For Gerald and his girlfriend, it was like an angel had suddenly come to save them. "Wrap the wound," Naomi screamed to the girl who seemed all too terrified. "If you don't, he'll bleed to death." This last spoken as she faced Valhalla. The towering woman smirked as she advanced on Naomi.

She could see the little toys quite clearly, these Sisters relied on tech to get by. But so did Naomi, and hers became very visible as she activated her gauntlets, creating barbed gloves that doubled as shields. As Valhalla advanced, she remembered her military training. And then decided the only proper training for this was to fight dirty. She lunged forward, using her outstretched wings to cause a moments hesitation from Valhalla. It was enough as she felt her boot embed itself into soft flesh of Valhalla's midsection. The blow knocked the wind out of the woman, and Naomi increased the assault. A clawed hand came down across her face, matched with her other, giving her criss crossed wounds on her cheek. As Valhalla began to slump back, Naomi lept into the air just slightly, enough to give her some force as she drove her knee into the woman's jaw. The force rendered her unconscious quickly.

She rose to her feet, watching the other three women carefully. One drew blades, but remained in place, as she stood defensively. Naomi noticed something, perhaps a moment of hesitation? Little matter. One of the others was speaking. "It is time you fell to Sister Tuscaloosa," she stated as she drew a pair of manufactured tomahawks. Steel, plastic, riveted carefully into place. Naomi snorted, unimpressed with the motion.

"Black Warrior, huh. I'm sure the Creek Nation must be proud," she stated with a laugh. "Well, this Dakota Warrior is gonna kick your ass!" She punctuated this by leaping toward the woman, showing no fear as she gave a war whoop, catching the Sister off guard. Again, enough. Tuscaloosa, while less surprised than Valhalla, still stepped back. But not far enough, as Naomi grabbed her collar and flew straight up. And then, curving her body and guiding herself, she flew straight down. Tuscaloosa would become her air bag on impact. And it served well.

Tuscaloosa fell unconscious immediately, the sudden stop of the ground rendering her into a blissful nap, though one she would awake from in extreme pain. This just left the two remaining Sisters. And one of them drew a gun. "This ends now!" she shouted, taking careful aim on Naomi.

*****

Grey 6-2-6 watched from the shadows as the agent crept closer to the body of Hawk's Scream. His rifle was held firm as he studied the man carefully. Grey knew there was something wrong, Hawk's Scream took a bullet point blank to the chest, but there was no blood. He studied him for a moment, and shook his head when he saw the armour the Dakota man wore. Grey just shook his head. They'd been duped. "There was no blood," he whispered, loud enough for the agent to hear. The agent turned to look back to Grey for just a moment, but it was a moment long enough.

"You're green, aren't you," the agent heard the muffled voice of Hawk's Scream say a loud. The agent looked to Maxwell again, eyes wide with slight shock. "That hurt. Good thing I was wearing Kevlar." He swept his legs and caught the agent by surprise, taking out his legs and dropping him quickly to the ground. His rifle clattered away on the pavement as Maxwell lept up into the air. "That'll leave a good sized welt in the morning, but nothing compared to what I've got planned for you."

Grey stayed back in the shadows and watched as the well muscled man began hammering the agent with blow after well calculated blow. He wasn't a finesse fighter, of that Grey was certain. He was a street fighter, a boxer, who relied on power and speed to fell his foes. It would be an interesting fight, should Grey have to face him. And no doubt he would indeed have to. Hawk's Scream took down the agent with ease. Grey snorted as he thought of Maxwell's comment. Yes, the agent was green, of that there was no doubt. A true agent of the Illuminati wouldn't have aimed for the chest, but the head. Little matter now.

Hawk's Scream had just become an asset for Grey, and his commanding officer, Operative Violet Rose.

He stepped out of the shadows and set his weapons of the ground, staring intently at Hawk's Scream. Maxwell could feel the burning eyes bore into him, and knew this would not be an easy fight. But he didn't have a choice. Grey positioned himself carefully, the styling of his training well hidden, he didn't want to give anything away to this man. Not like what he learned of Maxwell in so short a time. The only thing he had to worry about was if Maxwell actually got a hold of him, and took to the air. It was obvious this man was adept at fighting mid air.

"No words," Grey simply stated to Hawk's Scream as he held out his hand, middle and index finger together, pointing toward Maxwell.

"Then we shall begin."

*****

Naomi used her wings as shields, covering herself from time to time as bullets bounced off the lightweight steel sheaths. When there was a pause in the shooting, she rushed forward, slamming herself into Sister Eventide, and driving her into the nearest wall. The motion was enough to knock the wind out of her and knock her out of the fight. That left just the last of the Sisters. She looked to Sister White, and then to Gerald. He had paled a great deal, but his girlfriend was trying to contain the blood flow, and doing an admirable job. She had to act quickly and take White out fast.

Sister White noticed the look of concern in Naomi's eyes, knowing full well that they boy was growing closer and closer to death. This had to be done precisely. She stepped forward, lining herself up against Naomi, blade held in front of her, eyes steeled and ready for battle. Naomi matched the movements, slowly moving in against the Sister. And when she was close enough, Sister White said one thing in a hushed tone.

“Just make this look good.”

The comment took Naomi aback for just a moment, but she narrowed her eyes and advanced quickly. Sister White parried blow after blow, moving her steps backward toward the two youngsters. She knew what Naomi was doing. Forcing her into retreat. But she didn't want the woman to get her hands on her.

Naomi just wanted Sister White to back down, leave the fight and sense the urgency for mercy. As she fought, she managed to turn on her headset comm. “Lieutenant Naomi Running Cloud requesting assistance. Have found the boy, he is in need of immediate medical attention. Currently engaged with final target.”

“Understood, Lieutenant,” Captain Schwartz was heard to say over the comm. Contacting EMS immediately.

Naomi continued her assault against Sister White. Blow for blow, matched with a parry. And then, Naomi saw an opening. Whether created by Sister White or not did not matter. She was going to take it. She lashed out, catching White's jaw with a balled up fist, driving her left hand into White's midsection. And as White crumpled to the floor, she raced over to the two youngsters. “Hold on,” she instructed them as she looked to Gerald. “You're not gonna die today, kiddo.” Naomi looper her arms around their waists, the girl clutched to Gerald, helping to hold him in place. “Don't freak out,” Naomi told her. “We're going up.”

The girl only gasped slightly, the entire ordeal was still a shock. But with grace and agility, Naomi crouched down and shot into the air, her wings pushing upward to lift her feet from the earth with her two packages. As she began to soar over the first rooftop, the call came in over her comm.

“Lieutenant Runnin' Cloud,” the voice seemed to drawl. “EMS is waitin' at the main entrance ta the University. Can ya make it?”

“You got, Sir. I'll be there shortly.” She steered herself toward the location given to her, her arms were growing tired, but she held the two packages firm. At least Gerald had a hope now.

Nightwish-Creek Mary's Blood (End of an Era)

Music is a big inspiration to what I write. And this really inspired a lot of the creation of Maxwell and Naomi Running Cloud. I find this inspiration is rather coincidental. I'll get to that in a moment.

The band is called Nightwish. Formed in the mid 90's, they are a Finnish band that has mixed the symphonic sounds with gothic and metal, and completed it with a lead singer who is classically trained. In this particular piece, John Two Hawks, a Lakota Indian who resides in Arkansas, came together with Nightwish and recorded this song, called Creek Mary's Blood.

I created the character concepts of Maxwell and Naomi a couple of years ago, and have found different pieces of music that has been helpful in my writing, but none as much as this. I find this song a coincidence just for one fact. In Naomi's history as a member of Canada's military, she married one of the soldiers she met during her time. His name is Peter Simonson, and is of Finnish decent. When I created the character of Peter, I pulled a lot of things from the area I live in. Outlook, Saskatchewan has a very large population who are descended from Finnish settlers. So, when I found this song from Nightwish, a Finnish band, you can imagine how things kinda clicked.

Oh, I'm currently editing the next part of Canyons of Steel and may take a while, so don't worry, it'll be up soon.

Until next time...

Keep 'em flyin'.

Canyons of Steel - Our Solemn Hour Pt. 3

Some of the university students noticed something. A few of the more adventurous ones pointed out the higher degree of uniformed police officers that had began to fill the main mezzanine of the campus. Some had seen this before. With recent school shootings, students had become targets. Especially during the beginning of the school year. Each student was ensured that this was all to help with safety, and make certain no one was going to get hurt. But several other students noticed something besides the police officers. In particular when a pair of winged figures were sighted. A small gathering of students just stood and stared as soon as Naiomi lighted on the edge of a building. And it wasn't long before Maxwell was sighted across the mezzanine.

Naomi studied the area, taking note of the reactions of the students. She tapped the comm casually, testing it for a moment. "Sector fifteen is clear so far. Anyway sign of Gerald?"

"None yet," one of the officers replied in her comm.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched the area like a hawk. Students mingled together in different groups. Some could be close friends, some could be meeting together for the first time, others could be comparing class listings. "Captain Schwartz, I'm going down for a closer look. And question some of the students. Maybe some of them have seen Gerald."

"Be careful, Lieutenant," the captain cautioned. Naomi gave her affirmation and swooped down to ground level. Many of the students stopped to watch in amazement. Several laughed and clapped, thinking the display was more for show than anything else. Naomi let the wings fan out, helping to slow her decent. A few of the students, obviously engineering students, appeared to be taking notes as she landed. Cameras flashed. Students began to form a circle around her. "Ask a few of the students if they know or have seen Cleaves," Schwartz suggested. He knew the tactic Naomi was working. People are hesitant when a police officer is involved. Sad, but true. Naomi, on the other hand, had a slight advantage. While she held the air of authority, she did not have the outward appearance of an officer, police or military.

One of the students marveled at the rig Naomi wore, his eyes brightly shining as he took a closer look at Naomi's wings. He, along with a few of his friends, seemed to be taking mental notations of the harness. And a couple took photographs. "That is the most incredible thing I've seen. How does it work?" he asked, bold enough to approach Naomi.

She looked him over carefully for a moment, then took out a leather wallet and flashed her badge, clearly displaying the CSIS identification. "Name's Lieutenant Naomi Running Cloud. And I'll make you a deal, alright kid?" The student nodded quickly, waiting for Naomi's next words. "You see that guy," she said, pointing toward Maxwell, perched on the edge of a building. The engineering student nodded with enthusiasm. "He made a similar rig to mine. You answer some questions, any of you answer some questions," she said at first to the student then spoke to all those gathered. "Then I promise, I'll make sure he will give a proper demonstration."

"Wait, you mean that guy made that wing harness?" the student asked with some confusion, looking toward the figure perched on the building's edge.

"My questions first, kiddo," Naomi said with a smirk. "Then we'll deal with yours." The student returned his gaze to Naomi, his eyes still seemed glazed over by the rig she wore, but still excited that he was going to be given an opportunity to see how it worked. "First off, you know a student by the name of Gerald Cleaves?" The young man blinked a couple of times and shook his head slowly. Naomi furrowed her brow. They had to find this kid, and soon. So she posed the question to the rest of the students that stood around her. "Any of you know this kid?"

One girl slowly put up her hand, and Naomi focused her attention on the young woman. "I know him. He's dating my sister."

"Where is he?" Naomi asked, maybe a little too forceful. She had to compose her features in order to make her questions not sound so demanding. "It's okay, honey, he's not in trouble." Not yet, at least.

"Well, I got a phone call from my sister. She said Gerry was taking her to a quiet spot, just so, ya know, they could be alone."

Naomi huffed slightly. Great, this kid's hormones are gonna get him killed. "Thanks kids. I gotta go," she announced without stopping to answer more questions. She just lept into the air and allowed the wings to unfurl and carry her upward, a little trick that Maxwell had created in the rig. Small thrusters to allow the wearer flight from a standing position. Naiomi tapped her comm. "You guys hear that?"

"Got it, Lieutenant," Captain Schwartz stated on the comm. "That's not a lot of information, though."

"I know," Naomi replied as she lighted onto a rooftop. "But at least we know the kid is going to be in a secluded spot. All because of his hormones." There was a slight chuckle she heard on the other end as she began to scan the area. And something caught her eye. "Captain, did you send men into position near the arts building?"

"No. Why do you ask?" Schwartz was quick to ask, a touch of irritation in his voice.

"Heavily armed men are circling the area," Naomi replied quickly. "Four of them. They look decidedly out of place down there."

"I'm on it," Maxwell announced as he took flight from his perch. Naomi could see him moving quickly and gracefully through the air.

"Watch your six, Maxie," Naomi warned him.

"Always do," came the reply. Maxwell seemed to float on the air currents as he closed in on the position. But Naomi couldn't help but worry. He was her brother, and while he was more than capable in a fight, he still wasn't a trained police officer or military official. And these targets were highly trained. What they knew about them may have only been the tip of the iceberg. "Be careful, Maxie," she whispered onto the winds.

"We've got more movement," an officer announced suddenly over the comms. Naomi held her hand over her ear piece as she listened carefully to the report. "North building. Four targets. Let's see... four women. Repeat, heavily armed women, black clad, carrying .... what the hell? Are they carrying swords?" Naomi furrowed her brow. This wasn't good. If that report was correct, then that meant the Sisterhood had been brought into this. And people would die.

"I got this one, Captain," Naomi announced as she sprinted across the rooftop. "Keep your men safe. Continue looking for Cleaves." It may have sounded like an order, but even Schwartz could tell it was edged with heavy concern. After Naomi lost her husband early in the Afghan invasion, she had always been mindful of her fellow soldiers. Whether they were police officers or military. It was, in all truth, simple motherly instinct. She pushed herself into the air again as she reached the edge of the rooftop and began to soar. This was going to be a long day, Naomi mused to herself. And it wasn't going to be easy.

Canyons of Steel - Our Solemn Hour Pt. 2

Indigo's fingers flew over the keyboard as she downloaded schematics, registrars, cell phone numbers and more. All of it to track on young man. Gerald Cleaves. According to orders, Cleaves was to be taken into "custody" and used as a leverage to force his father to vote in favour of a bill which would allow government agencies the legal right to wire tap, video tap and out right invade homes without any repercussions. No warrant would be needed. No ruling from a judge. The passing of such a bill would turn the United States into a police state, and Canada and Mexico would not be far behind. But it also meant that agencies that worked globally, such as the Illuminati, would have access to these records. If the bill were allowed to pass, then the days of public records, public freedoms, and human rights would be thrown out the window. This was something that Walker didn't want.

And he volunteered himself and his crew for this detail. Because he had plans of his own. The capture of Cleaves would give him the leverage needed to speak to the Senator, and clear his own name, while at the same time revealing a global conspiracy. After nearly ten years, he'd had enough of the Illuminati. Making lies seem like the truth. 9/11 was the last straw for him. But Dimitri threw a wrench into his plans. He could no longer move as freely as he would like to. Plans had to change and they had to change fast.

Indigo had her orders. Gather information, make it look good. All the while, searching for a signal that they might be able to reach Grey Kestrel. Warn her somehow. Already Monty was able to make an anonymous tip to the police, but that action was very, very risky. Walker stood close by, making sure no wandering eyes tried to pry on their business, especially Dimitri's. He'd already given Crimson the go ahead for a weapons check, which she did with a fine tooth comb, even going over the weapons of Dimitri's men, and ordering the Sister's to complete a weapons check with her. Walker smiled as he watch Crimson for a moment. The Nigerian was incredibly thorough, and she took her time. Enough to keep them off his plans.

Flanking him as he watched Indigo's actions on the keyboard were Omega Six and Grey 6-2-6. They never left his side, tilting their head from time to time to listen to a comment from Walker they knew was directed to them. "We need some equipment. Grey, Six. See what ya can do 'bout commandeerin' an ambulance. Some sorta emergency service vehicle. An' uniforms." Walker didn't have to look to make sure they acknowledged him. The pair had heard, and was mentally taking the tally as they watched Dimitri's agents carefully.

Once in a while, either Six or Grey would cough, giving a signal that the others attention was away from the terminal. Indigo would bring up the files again on Grey Kestrel and Hawk's Scream. These two were quite possibly their biggest allies in all of this. Even if they didn't realize it. Every so often, Six would clear his throat, a signal that one of the Sisters was getting too close to their activities. Indigo would go back to her previous research. It was all so smooth.

But even the smoothest of things sometimes had a bump every once in a while.

Indigo didn't even hear the woman as she approached. She was going through Grey Kestrel's military history at the time. And Sister White found it rather fascinating. Her movements hadn't even been detected, either visually, or audibly. She was that good. "I've heard about her," she said in a low voice as she looked at the view screen with Naomi Running Cloud's picture. Indigo stopped what she was doing very quickly. Like a deer caught in the headlights, her body froze, waiting for word from Walker.

"Ya got a problem, Ma'am?" Walker said nonchalantly as he took out a cigarette and lit it. He didn't even turn to look at Sister White. But his free hand moved to the Colt at his hip. One move from her, and he would fire. And he could easily pass it off that he had information of a planned betrayal to the Sisterhood.

Sister White turned to study the old gunslinger for a moment. His voice was gruff and determined, but filled with skepticism. He was too honourable of a man to have joined the military of the Illuminati. And that would get the stupid old fool killed. "No problem," she replied in a crisp British accent. Walker cringed slightly as he heard the woman's voice. It was like daggers in his neck. She sounded cold and cruel. He didn't look toward her as she left the terminal. He kept his eyes focused on the work Indigo was pulling down.

"She's not sayin' anythin' ta the others, mate," Omega Six whispered over his shoulder as he watched her. Grey nodded in agreement, but kept his eyes trained on the woman.

"Don't trust the bitch," Walker scowled as he urged Indigo to continue her research. "Only one woman in the Sisterhood worth her salt." The others didn't have to ask who. They already knew. Walker spoke of Sister Jade. The pair had met on a mission twelve years before. And as often times during a stressful situation, certain things can happen. Walker was still a member of the US Military at the time, and he had thought he had fallen in love. Jade was kind hearted, he found. And when he learned that she was a member of the Sisterhood years later, he couldn't understand why. They had been assigned to each other after Walker had joined the Illuminati, and it was after three years that he learned their previous encounters had produced a child.

Upon learning that, he began to make plans to get out of the Illuminati. Either escape, or get himself killed. After 9/11, he knew he had to get out. Get out, and possibly take his daughter with him. He pushed those thoughts aside as Indigo brought up the comm frequencies of the police department, somehow he knew that Kestrel and Hawk would be using those. Indigo would record them, and hopefully they could use them to contact the pair.

As Indigo continued her research, Sister White had moved back to her group, silently looking to her other comrades. She didn't even bother with a backward glance toward Walker. Sister Eventide, the commanding officer of the small group of Sisters, approached her, just as quietly, and spoke in a hushed tone. "What are they doing?"

Sister White looked back to the group, contemplating her answer. She knew what she saw, but something inside her had changed. In all truth, Sister White should have told the truth. There was absolutely nothing redeeming about Walker at all. The timber of his voice belayed a tyrant underneath. But she saw this also as an opportunity of her own. "They are going over schematics of the University," she stated as she looked to Eventide. "They are preparing. It would seem they are extremely thorough."

"And extremely paranoid," Eventide said as she looked to Six and Grey. Grey was looking directly at Eventide, his eyes seemed to bore into her, and she quickly looked away. It made her rather nervous, knowing that someone had that affect on her. But she did note that the pair had never left their positions, casually looking over each of the Sisters. "I doubt they even trust each other."

Sister White arched an eyebrow and turned to study Eventide directly. "They are soldiers in one of the most secret organizations on the planet. They would kill to continue to keep their secrets. Given what they do and who they are, can you blame them for being paranoid?"

Eventide didn't respond, she just looked to Sister White and clenched her jaw just a bit. But enough to show that White's words had sunk in. "We move quickly," she finally said, changing the subject quickly. "We'll find Cleaves first. He has a girlfriend here. And we can take them both. It will be all over in a matter of moments."

"And what are our orders?" Sister White inquired casually, but deep inside, she seemed to know exactly what the answer would be.

"We are the Sisterhood," Eventide responded with a proud smile. "We do what we are good at. The boy and the girl, will not live to see the dawn." Eventide casually glanced from soldier to soldier, studying those that were faithful to both Dimitri and Walker. "And we will have to deal with all of these. I don't trust any of them. I believe we will have to leave behind some bodies in order to ensure the deception is complete. Walker will be easy to kill. Dimitri more difficult. But we will have to kill them as well."

Sister White didn't bat an eye as she took in the information. Inside, she merely prayed that the information they had on Lieutenant Running Cloud would help them turn the tide. And perhaps Eventide would eat her own words.

Canyons of Steel - Our Solemn Hour Pt. 1

Columbus, Ohio - 9:45 a.m. - August 23rd, 2002

The early morning hours were often busy. People traveling to meetings, to work, shopping, and some joining others for an early coffee. Just another usual day in the city. For Billy Helm, it was a day away from school. He had a dental appointment at 10:45 that morning. The world was still reeling from the effects of an act of terrorism less than a year before, but slowly America continued her routine. For Billy, this didn't mean much. He was too young to truly understand. He just knew that something catastrophic had happened. All he really understood was that he had a dental appointment.

The sky was clear, the wind was calm. Billy's mother went about her business as she always would on an outing. Having her son in tow wasn't a bother, Billy was a good boy, and always kept close to her, even if his eyes did often wander in amazement. And this day was not unlike any other for him to look at everything around him. Cars, trucks, taxis, police cruisers, shoppers and shop keepers. It was always the same. But each day filled with new hope that something would change.

"Mama!" he cried in amazement as he tried to get his mother's attention, tugging on her arm.

"Billy please," she huffed slightly, annoyed but also partially amused. "Mrs. Garrison and I are talking. Why all the excitement?"

"Look!" he said as he pointed skyward. For a fleeting moment, his mother thought the worst. The questions raced through her head as her head seemed to turn as though stuck in molasses. Why would anyone strike Columbus? But that question was soon dropped when she saw what her son was pointing at.

They tilted and reeled like real birds. But they looked human. Their speed was amazing. And they swooped down so close, she could almost reach out and touch them. A man and a woman, dressed in tight fighting uniforms, and wearing wings. And they were flying. She could only stare in awe. And then a new question came to mind. I wonder if my therapist is available this afternoon.

Hawk's Scream and the Grey Kestrel flew through the streets with speed and grace of their namesakes. The great birds of prey that could fly with amazing speed as they hunted down prey, or migrated easily from region to region. But these two had a higher purpose than simple hunting or gathering as the buteo's they emulated. They had their target in sight. The steps of the Columbus City Police Department. There, Maxwell could see the figures of Inspector Cortez and three uniformed officers. And as they drew closer, one of the officers pointed skyward.

It was always a thrill to see the look on someone's face as they would fly in, and land with ease, as though the wings had always been a part of them. One of the officers tilted his hat up and simply let out a low whistle in amazement. Citizens of Saskatoon and Ottawa had grown used to Hawk's Scream and Grey Kestrel. But for Columbus, this was something completely different. Inspector Cortez huffed slightly, impressed but not showing it. He didn't want to see the likes of these to become replacements for him. "I take it that you are Lieutenant Running Cloud," he called out toward Niaomi as she began her descent.

"That's right, Inspector," she called back, moving herself to land correctly, using the wings like a chute to slow her descent and allow her feet to touch the ground softly. "Code named Grey Kestrel. Pleased to meet you, Inspector," she said as she walked up to Cortez with an outstretched hand. Cortez quickly shook it and watched as Hawk's Scream landed next to his sister. He was tall and well muscled. Not someone you really wanted to mess with.

"I take it you are Professor Running Cloud?"

"That's right, Inspector," Maxwell replied with a nod, his voice sounding tinny through the speakers of the ventilator mask. "Max is just fine, however. I know I don't have military or police credentials..."

"That's fine," Cortez quickly interrupted Maxwell with a wave of his hand. "The more assistance the better." He motioned for the pair to follow as the uniformed officers took up flanking positions. Cortez explained the situation as they walked. "The FBI called after I gave you the okay, Lieutenant. They gave us more information. Seems a flight came in last night with a suspicious name that was flagged. A Russian by the name of Kovolenko. FBI has had a warrant out for him for years. Highly dangerous. So I'm glad of any help we can get." As they walked, Niaomi caught sight of the stairs and overheard quiet whispers from several of the other police officers. She suspected this wasn't exactly an everyday occurance.

Cortez opened a set of double doors and directed they to enter. Police officers from all departments were sitting down. A morning roll call, one that Niaomi had been involved with during a man hunt in Kamloops. Again, the stares came. It didn't bother her. She suspected a pair of First Nations wearing close to traditional dress and wings wasn't exactly a usual sight for the officers. Granted, Maxwell's uniform carried more of the traditional concepts in their culture than her own. She wore a very simple headband with a pair of eagle feathers tucked tightly inside. But aside from her exterior look, she was all business. And in this room, her military rituals began to come forward.

A grey haired, but well muscled plain clothes officer stepped forward. Right away, Niaomi could sense the air of authority that surrounded him. This must be Captain Schwartz. She gave him a salute as he came closer. He smiled and waved a dismissive hand. "No need for the formalities, Lieutenant. I appreciate the respect, but we've got a bigger problem on our hands." He turned back to the front of the room and tacked seven pictures up onto a metal white board. "Ladies an' gentlemen, these are the suspects that we are going after. We don't know why they are here, but both the FBI and CSIS have confirmed they are to be considered dangerous." He pointed to a surveillance photo of Dimitri Kovolenko. "This one in particular. According to the FBI, he has quite the wrap sheet. Lieutenant Running Cloud has more information as well on the other suspects." He motioned toward Niaomi who walked to the front of the room. Her wings seemed to tuck in close to her as she walked.

"According to the profile that RCMP Lieutenant Christa Rayne put together on Operative Violet Rose," Niaomi said as she pointed to an enhanced photo of the grizzled gunslinger. "He is former U.S. Military. Given a dishonourable discharge in 1993 after events in Somalia, he fled the States, never to be seen again. Rayne believes he can be talked to, due to the fact that her own investigations proved that his discharge was political. Rose was used as a scapegoat. But there is no solid proof either way." She pointed to the next photo, this one of Monty. "Malcom Montgomery Watt. Australian, served with Emergency Services and applied for the Sydney Police force. Then his history falls off the face of the Earth. Until Rayne began investigating Rose. Watt is the second in command of this small unit. And extremely loyal to Rose. Rayne believed that Rose hand picked his soldiers, for loyalty first. However, it is unknown what this organization's recruiting process is like. CSIS and the RCMP have very little outside of those two."

Cortez stepped forward and pointed to the picture of Kovolenko. "Be careful with this one. He's former KGB, and Moscow police. According to the Kremlin's records, Kovolenko was considered a radical. A true believer in the communist doctrine. No clue what he's doing in this so called Illuminati." Cortez sighed as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "But that still leaves us with one small detail..."

Maxwell slowly put up his hand and coughed. The sound came out rather metallic. All eyes turned to him. Cortez looked to Schwartz for a moment. The police captain motioned to Running Cloud. And Niaomi smiled as her brother stepped forward. The large Dakota man unstrapped the ventilator mask from his face so his words could be heard more clearly. "I managed to make my own investigations, but this around the university itself. Earlier, both Niaomi... rather, the Lieutenant," he smirked as he looked to his sister. "At least maybe I should call you that in this room, huh Sis?" The other officers laughed as Maxwell made his comment. Niaomi just rolled her eyes. Maxwell still had his gift for easing tensions in a room. "Anyway, a few of the professors remember a luncheon several months ago. A very influential Senator had made a rather large donation to a section of the University. But a few of them have heard rumours that he is being leaned on to push through legislation that may be very unpopular. Legislation that he has adamantly been opposed to in the past." Maxwell let this information sink in for a moment, several of the officers looking toward him quite thoughtfully. "The Senator's son has recently enrolled in classes at the University. It's my belief that these men may be after him. His name is Gerald Cleeves. Currently, he's taking classes in law and economics. The boy himself isn't a threat, but still he could be used as leverage against the Senator." Maxwell looked to his sister as he completed his own descriptions. She gave him a thumbs up and smiled. Shoulda joined the military or police force yourself, Maxie, she thought to herself.

"Okay," Schwartz announced with a clap of his hands. "First detail, check where this kid is. We tail him like glue. I want uniformed officers in plain sight and snipers in position. Plains clothes will be monitoring things as well." He turned to Maxwell and Niaomi and seemed to smile slightly. "Eyes in the sky?" he asked.

"Already on it, Captain," Niaomi said with a grin. "We'll have our comms set to your frequency and keep in touch."

"Alright people," Schwartz barked. "Let's go!"

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 9

They dropped the duffel bags on the tar covered rooftop of the hotel. Military credentials can give you amazing things. A hotel security officer stood with them, just watching in wonderment. He had been asked to follow them, and collect their things after they had taken flight. That was the hard part to explain. Niaomi simply said, just follow us and you'll see. The syblings slipped into their uniforms, Maxwell's much more traditional looking as it carried the beadwork of his heritage, though still remained functional. Niaomi's was much more sleek, as her's was crafted by the military agency she belonged to.

The security officer blinked a couple of times. Both of them unwrapped a wing harness. Maxwell's was much more natural looking, as it retained it's feathered look. He carefully strapped the leather bindings around his chest as he tested the weight of the harness, nodding as he felt the wings were secure on his back. The only really visible piece of technology that he wore was a ventilator mask. A project Maxwell had succeeded in, the mask had a modified mp3 player, USB connectors, and small speakers. Complete with an adjusted volume, this rig was used to echo the cries that hawks, falcons and eagles would make. Only amplified at several decibels.

Niaomi strapped her metallic wings to her back and tested them. The security guard marvelled how they seemed to become a part of her as she stretched out her wings. Much more sleek than Maxwell's, her rig was built for speed over power. Not that she didn't have the latter. A pair of gauntlets held small shurikens that she could release with maddening speed. The fingers could unleash claws, similar in style to a Kestrel's.

Niaomi looked to her brother as she snapped the last of the straps in place. He gave her the thumbs up and they both walked to the edge of the building. Twenty stories up. A cake walk. "Don't forget our stuff," Niaomi called back to the security officer. The officer nodded rather dumbly, with a look on his face that read, Are you really gonna jump? Niaomi turned to her brother again. "Clear?"

"Clear," he confirmed. And with that word, they both lept off the roof, their speed increasing as they hurtled toward the ground. The security officer could only look fearfully on. His eyes widened as the pair fell faster earthward. And just when he expected the worst, the pair opened their wings and began to fly. Just as their namesakes, the pair actually could not fly, but used the wing harnesses and the updrafts to glide, just as a hawk would glide. A small thruster built into the rig would force the wings to flap when they needed to ascend, just as a bird of prey would. And so, it gave the illusion of flight.

And it became the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And he finally let go of the breath he'd been holding.

To be continued in Our Solemn Hour

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 8

Walker checked his weapons one last time. He hoped he wouldn't have to use them this time around. The other agents were gearing up in their usual manner, as only Grey 6-2-6 was not present. Always a shadow, Grey was Walker's eyes and ears when he needed them, and something told the old gun hand now was the time to let one of his foxes patrol. There was a nagging feeling he had that something wasn't right. And he wouldn't be disappointed. Grey's voice told him so over the comm.

"Sir," the Chinese agent said in his usual quiet tone. "We have incoming."

"How many?" Walker said in a low tone, his voice not hiding the fact he was expecting this news.

"Four, Sir. And I believe we are familiar with one of them." Grey's voice held just a hint of disdain. To anyone not familiar with the man, it wouldn't even register. But Walker had grown to know each habit, nervous twitch and unspoken word that each of his agents had. It took time, but he learned, and it was that reason alone that made his unit so tight. "Искатель правды," he quickly added, speaking the words that made up the name of the familiar Russian agent. Loosely translated, it meant truth seeker. Walker always found the irony of the man's code name, as he was known as the one who enforced the keeping of secrets.

"What 'xactly is he doin' here?" Walker mused as he inspected his long barrel Colt. He only sighed and looked to the other agents. They knew by the tone of his voice and the movements he made that the visitors were not welcomed. "Get back ta base, Grey. Let's say hello ta the Russian." He wouldn't let the Russian get the drop on him, but then, Dimitri Kovolenko never was very stealthy. As well as keeping secrets a secret, Kovolenko also used fear as a motivator. The Russian's imposing size and well mannered attitude was unnerving. Especially when the veil of disception was covering that eerie smile of his.

"Operative Violet Rose," the expected booming voice of the Russian called out as he and his men entered the room. "Has been a very long time, comrade. You nyet call as much as you used to."

"Last I checked, Dimitri, I never called you," Walker shot back in his slow drawl, but even the unobservant could detect his words were dipped in acid. "What're you doin' here, Kovolenko?"

"Ah, I see we are on last name basis, Comrade Walker," the Russian said with a boisterous laugh. "Is good dat our relationship has advanced to such a level."

"We ain't got a relationship," the gunslinger said as he stepped closer to the Russian. Dimitri was a good foot and a half taller than Walker, and by looks alone, could probably take Walker out easily. But that was something about Walker. He was wiley, like a coyote. Coupled with Walker's cool exterior, his brash confidence was something that put the fear of God into most of the other commanders in the Illuminati. "Now answer my question. What're ya doin' here?"

Dimitri chuckled at first, then his voice boomed into a loud laugh. "Comrade, you are straightforward, da? I was hoping we could partake in a glass of vodka before going over orders from Central Command."

"I drink whiskey," Walker retorted. "Get ta the point."

The Russian nodded, but the smile never left his face, hidden as it was behind the grey flecked beard and mustache. "Is disappointing you nyet wish for drink to celebrate occasion. After all, with this act, we will secure a great deal. I am merely here to ensure dat you are unhindered in your situation. To make certain, dat dis operation is completed in most discreet manner, da?"

"Discreet?" Monty repeated with a scoff. "Tell me 'ow blowin' the shit outta somethin' is discreet."

The Russian looked to Monty and grimaced before returning his gaze to Walker and speaking in a low growl. "Tell your rabid dogs to keep their mouths shut, Comrade Walker."

"My dogs," Walker replied in a very cool, very even tone. "Will do as they please. Last I checked, I'm in charge o' this operation. An' as doctrine states, any agent who comes inta an operation will abide by the orders of the commandin' officer."

"Da, I am familiar with dis, Walker," Dimitri said as he snapped his fingers. "But I am merely bringing insurance dat all will be completed as planned." As the Russian's final words faded, the the electronic sounds could be heard as the cloaking devices were powered down. Walker narrowed his eyes as the four assassins came into view. Sisterhood. Soldiers for hire, but allied to the Illuminati. And very, very deadly. "Operative Violet Rose, I would like very much for you to be meeting four top agents of the Sisterhood." His arm swept wide in a fashion that could almost be called bravado, as though the Russian were gloating over his allies. "Sister White, Sister Eventide, Sister Tascalusa and Sister Valhalla."

Walker took out a cigar and lit it as he looked over the four women. Trained assassins. This isn't what he wanted. He looked toward Dimitri for a moment. "Ya do understand the word Overkill, right Dimitri?"

The Russian merely laughed aloud, his booming voice sounding like a thunderclap. "Come now, Walker. We are all friends here. We need to complete dis mission. With no mistakes. Sisters are merely here to make certain there are no loose ends, da?" He chuckled lightly as he stepped toward Walker. The gunslinger seemed to sneer as the Russian slapped him on the back, but kept his focus on his men. "Now, he have some time to ... how you say ... kill," he said with a chuckle. "Please if you would allow. I would be interested in a glass of your American whiskey."

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 7

Petey Running Cloud grinned with wide eyed abandon as he entered the large doors to the aviary. The university had one of the largest protection reserves for birds of prey in the area. And the first thing he saw was the huge, majestic bald eagle that seemed to survey it's surroundings with an appraising eye. Some might have screamed in excitement, but not Petey. While his eyes flashed with excitement, he remained calm around the giant bird. As he watched the giant bird, the bird itself seemed to turn to study him.

Niaomi watched her son as Professor Seymore Phips went through a short educational lecture with the boy. She smiled as she saw the light in his eyes as he watched the majestic bird, and looked over to her brother. "Thanks for arranging this," she whispered to him.

"Hey, anything I could do," he replied quietly. "You said Petey hasn't been very outgoing lately, so I thought this trip might just help with that."

Niaomi smiled with a nod, then furrowed her brow as her cell phone rang. Excusing herself, she walked back into the hallway to speak as Petey continued his educational field trip. "Hello," she said in a quiet tone, and looked back to Maxwell as he gave her a sideways glance.

"Agent Running Cloud," the voice on the other end stated. "This is Inspector Phil Cortez, Columbus Police Department. We received a package from your office early this morning with instructions. We've been tipped about a possible terrorist threat at the convention. We'd like to work with you on this, as it seems you've done a good deal of leg work already."

"Yes, Inspector," she replied with a small smile. Amanda had done her work well, pushed the proper paperwork through in record time. "I had noticed something odd at the convention dinner and contacted my people. I had hoped that we would be able to work together on this one."

"We would be more than happy to have both of you on this, Agent," Cortez announced. Niaomi smiled and turned to look at Maxwell. Her brother furrowed his brow for a moment as he tried to determine what it was she might be plotting.

"I'll tell my brother right away," she said into the receiver. "When shall we meet you."

"In three hours," Cortez replied without hesitation. "Main station house. Captain Schwatz will be handling the details."

"Good to hear Inspector. We'll see you in three then." She quickly rang off and looked again to her brother as she pocketed her cell phone. "Remember the information we dug up last night?"

"Yes," Maxwell said with a smile as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. "So we're being asked to assist, I assume."

"We've got three hours to prepare before meeting the Captain."

Maxwell nodded as he crossed his arms. "Well, only one thing left to do." He looked toward Petey as the boy was listening intently to Professor Phips' improve lecture. Maxwell didn't have to say anything. Niaomi knew that her brother's look would lead to a question about a baby sitter.

"Professor Phips," Niaomi called out. The older gentleman looked to the pair with a smile. Petey followed suit. "Really hate to interupt you, but I have to ask you a very big favour..."

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 6

"We have a problem," Operative Beta Indigo said as she looked up from the computer terminal. Omega Six stood nearby, having been pacing back and forth as she put in her research. Finally, after several minutes, she had everything she needed. Operative Violet Rose walked over to view her findings. And he furrowed his brow as he looked closely. Indigo turned in her chair to gauge her commanding officer's reaction. And as always, it was the same thing. Walker took out his cigarette holder, removed a custom rolled Pall Mall and lit it. "She's a spook, Sir. Former Canadian military, now with CSIS," she summarized for them all, her Italian accent softened after the years. "Rumour has it, she is in a very black ops division of CSIS. But no one, not even the Illuminati has information on which branch."

Walker nodded as he listened to the information, taking a long pull on the cigarette. He remained silent as he looked to each of his soldiers. Omega Six, Beta Indigo, Grey 626, and Crimson Luna. Each of them had not argued with Walker when he made his decision. They were in, and they'd stay by him. They almost anticipated his next words. "She could be a silver linin' in this here sow's ear we got ourselves inta."

"There is more, Sir," Indigo stated. "She is a guest at the convention. While her background in civilian life is in archeology, her brother is the one who was asked to come. Professor Maxwell Running Cloud, Masters Degree in Native American History from the University of British Columbia, Degree in Natural Sciences, specializing in ornithology. Two years ago, he accepted a position at the University of Saskatchewan's Historical Department."

"An academic?" Walker asked.

Indigo turned to her terminal and tapped in a few keys. A news video began playing, though the sound was muted. "At the time Professor Running Cloud accepted the position in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, reports of a vigilante the media dubbed Hawk's Scream began making appearances. It was later revealed that Hawk's Scream and Maxwell Running Cloud are one in the same."

"An' Lieutenant Runnin' Cloud?" Walker said as he took another pull on the cigarette. "She got more 'n just military background?" He watched the screen a moment as he rubbed the knuckles of his left hand. Indigo watched for a moment. All of Walker's agents were familiar with his condition. Something that crept up upon everyone. Old age. His bones were suffering the affects of Arthritis. Indigo turned back to the keyboard as Walker looked to her. He chuckled slightly. "What I tell ya 'bout lookin' at me that way? I'm old, I ain't dead." He motioned toward the terminal again. "'Bout Miss Runnin' Cloud."

"Mrs. Simonson, actually," Indigo corrected. "Niaomi married a Captain Peter Simonson. They met while on mission in Boznia. Married not long after her brother was married. Strangely, both brother and sister are also widower and widow." Indigo tapped her keyboard again. "But as you requested, Sir, Lieutenant Running Cloud has a code name known to the Illuminati. And many believe it is a moniker in homage to her brother." She looked back to Walker, noting his full attention was on her words. "Grey Kestrel."

Walker snorted a laugh and finished his cigarette, tossing it to the ground and crushing it under his boot heel. "Birds o' a feather. Maybe they can both help us."

"Orders, Sir," Monty stated quickly.

"Our orders," Walker said to Monty, then turned to face all his agents. "Make it look good. Them kids do not get killed. We get a trail offa them fast, an' maybe the Illuminati'll stop chasin' 'em." He looked to each agent for a moment before continuing on. "Anyone here who don't like this idea, yer free ta walk out now. This here's my decision." He was going to wait a moment, but each of his agents quickly piped up their support. All or nothing, they were in and backing his play. The old gun hand nodded and smiled, the sound in his ears of their conviction outweighed the pain in his bones a thousand fold. With them, he could fight heaven and hell. "Good. Now let's get ta work."

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 5

Maxwell watched Niaomi as she tucked Petey into bed. She'd been quiet since the left the dinner. He asked if something might be wrong, but she avoided the question rather quickly. But now, it was nagging at him and he could tell there was something bothering her as she went through rather methodical motions. "Something's got you bugged," he idly commented. "Did something happen at the dinner?"

"You could say that," she replied as she opened a suitcase with her laptop. She hooked it up to the hotel's network and turned it on as she took out her cellphone and began dialing. Niaomi waited as it rang, holding her hand up to shush her brother. Maxwell was now completely confused, and frustrated. His sister wasn't saying word one to him. And then someone answered the phone and he could tell she had switched to spook mode. She muttered quietly into the receiver and waited again. It was only a few minutes and she spoke in a regular tone again. "Good evening, Amanda. I need some help. I'm going to log into the suspect files and I need an identity match." She paused for a moment, obviously Amanda was speaking on the other end of the phone. "Logging in right now," she spoke as her fingers tapped in the commands on the keyboard. Soon enough, the answer came for Maxwell as the CSIS Paranormal Division logo popped up on her screen. "Amanda, I'm going to put you on speaker. My brother's with me, and this could end up involving him as well." Maxwell heard some chatter on the other end, which to him, Niaomi seemed to ignore as she hooked the cellphone up to a pair of small speakers.

"...unauthorized personnel, Agent. ...bloody..." The voice paused a moment before the sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard. "Good evening, Professor Running Cloud."

"Um... evening," he replied to the cellphone. He was thoroughly confused now. Maxwell leaned against the back of a chair and looked to his sister for help, but received none.

"Amanda, I'm going through the criminal database," she explained as her fingers flew over the keys. On the screen a series of small files appeared, each with a name and photo. "The individual I'm looking for is maybe early 30's, male, Australian, dark hair, about 6 feet tall. He said he was with the military, but that could have been a lie." She continued typing as she spoke, looking through the database and narrowing down her search. There was matching typing heard over the cellphone.

"This could be an incredibly narrow search, Agent Running Cloud," Amanda reported after a few moments. "After all, the number of Australian criminals wanted internationally is equal to the number of Canadian criminals wanted internationally."

"Please don't tell me that Australia has the same stigma that we do," Niaomi sighed. "Polite, but still wanting to stab you in the back." Maxwell smirked and there was a small chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"No, I doubt that," Amanda replied. "I'm going to make an addition to the search and see what I might be able to discover." Niaomi leaned back in her chair. Her gut feeling was there about Malcom, but the search was turning up not a bloody thing. Maxwell placed a well meaning hand on her shoulder, a show of support. He trusted her judgement, and did not question her feeling about this man. Niaomi smiled to Maxwell just as Amanda cried out in victory. "I think I have something. I had to open up the secured files, but I believe I have something." A file opened on Niaomi's laptop, displaying a picture and write up. Niaomi studied it for a moment before smirking as she nodded.

"Yeah, that's the guy. I knew it." She began reading the information off the screen as Amanda read over the cliff notes.

"No serious criminal background, but he is suspected to be involved with the Illuminati," Amanada explained. "An extremely military branch that recruits those with police and military background. Many of the recruits are from Russia and the United States. Malcom Montgomery Watt is an expert weapons specialist. He was a member of EMS Services in Australia for several years, then applied to join the police force, then nothing. He resurfaced after RCMP Lieutenant Christa Rayne began gathering information about a gunslinger by the code name Operative Violet Rose. It would seen that Watt, code named Omega Six, is Rose's second in command."

"Well, he's here in Columbus, Amanda," Niaomi explained. "And if these files read correctly, then Rose and the rest of his unit is here as well. Though, for what, I'm not sure."

"Is there a high profile at the convention who would be a target?" Amanda inquired.

"No," Maxwell offered. "No one of real importance in the field. Well, I shouldn't say that, each of us is important. Just no one who would attract these to them."

"What's the next move, Amanda?" Niaomi asked in a hopeful voice. There was a pause on the other end as it sounded as if Amanda were speaking to someone away from the phone.

"I'll contact the FBI, who should get you in touch with the police," she replied as Niaomi smiled. She hoped this would happen. "Don't get too excited. These things usually take time. But due to the nature of these individuals, we might be able to push paperwork through for you. Both of you." Amanda sighed on the other end of the phone. "I hope you two enjoy the paperwork I'm going to have to do because of you. Oh, and Niaomi..."

"Yes Assistant Director?" she said, switching back to more formal titles.

"I hope you two packed your wings."

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 4

The tie was a little tight. The drinks were a little watered down. And the conversation was a little boring. At least Omega Six had the luxury of bird watching while he watched the room. The event was the Ohio State Anthropological Society. Experts in the fields of different cultures were in attendance from all over the world. Most chatted lightly with colleagues. For others, it seemed to Monty as though it were like a high school reunion.

And then, there was the woman. Monty knew she was a single mother, the child never left her side. And even with elegant floor length dress she wore, Monty could tell that there was something else about this dark skinned woman than met the eye. Aboriginal, he assumed, possibly from Western Canada or the United States. Tribe ancestry he couldn't put his finger on. But nonetheless, she still seemed intriguing to him. Strong and elegant, all at the same time. He smiled as he casually walked toward her.

Fifteen steps away, he heard the gruff voice of the old gunslinger in his ear piece. "Just what 'xactly ya doin', son?"

"Mingling," he replied as he moved to make it appear as though he were taking out a kerchief to cough. "It's what we're s'pposed ta do."

"Mingle," Walker repeated. "Not oogle over the first pretty skirt ya see." Monty cursed under his breath, mumbling in wonderment how his commanding officer could do that. "Just keep yerself focused, Six," the gunslinger warned as he cut off the communication. Monty was glad, a good old shindig like this, the old man could end up crampin' his style by interrupting his good view.

The Aussie moved through the crowd toward the woman, examining her carefully. Her son never let go of her hand, dressed in his own smart looking suit. She was obviously engaged in conversation with an older gentleman, one that Monty recognized. Colonel William Pate, former British army. This alone caused him to wonder about the nature of this woman, if she was conversing with a man such as him. And he drew a little closer.

"...again, my deepest sympathies. I never had the chance to mention that to you before you shipped out," Pate said with the most polite of gestures.

"I've mourned," came the woman's reply. "And I've learned that he's still with me. We both knew the risks serving in Afghanistan."

Monty furrowed his brow. Bloody hell, she's military. American? He noticed Pate looking his way and he smiled. "Pardon the intrusion," Monty said as he turned on the charm. "Sometimes movin' 'round in these gatherin's takes ya ta the strangest o' places."

"From the sound of it," Pate chuckled. "I'd say your a long way from your home. Aussie, aren't you?"

"That's right, mate," Monty grinned as he offered Pate his hand in a friendly shake. "An' pardon if I eavesdropped, but the three o' us 'ave somethin' in common." Pate accepted the offer as Monty introduced himself. "Corporal Malcom Watt."

"Ah, another from the Royal Service," Pate said with a smile.

Royal service, Monty mused. Must mean the lady's Canadian then. "Served for a few years indeed." He offered his hand to the woman, who accepted it with a smile.

"Niaomi Running Cloud," she said with a small bow. And now that Monty stood face to face with her, he realized that she wasn't wearing high heels, and she was still taller than he was.

"A pleasure," Monty replied and looked to the child. "Somebody looks bored." Monty smiled and winked to the small boy. "Bet there's a thousand places you'd rather be, 'ey mate?" He quipped. Petey hid behind his mother's leg, still clutching to her hand, then laughed and smiled. Success, Monty smiled back. The tike's on my side. He returned his gaze back to Niaomi. "So, if I might ask, what's someone like you doin' here? I don't mean ta say ya probably don't find this int'restin', but it's odd ta find more 'n one soldier 'round a place like this."

Niaomi smirked and nodded. "The same could be said of you," she replied. "But in all honesty, I'm here with the tall, dark hair guy over there." She pointed toward Maxwell's form, his long hair neatly braided and looking oddly out of place in the tux that he wore.

"'Usband?" Monty asked quickly, his ego taking a bit of a hit. Pate laughed aloud and looked to Niaomi for a moment, then turned to Monty.

"Oh goodness no, old chap," he said still chuckling. "Maxwell and Niaomi are brother and sister."

Monty nodded with the revelation, his bruised ego taking some solace in this new information. He looked toward Maxwell a moment, and then snapped his fingers. "Say, I think I've seen 'im b'fore."

"I should say so," Pate quickly replied. "Professor Running Cloud happens to be one of the most highly regarded experts on First Nation culture." With the last three words he looked to Niaomi and winked. "I told you I wouldn't have to be prompted."

Monty simply furrowed his brow, obviously showing some sign of confusion by the statement. Niaomi helped fill in the blanks. "Colonel Pate used to always say Indian. My brother isn't a fan of the term." She looked to Pate and returned the wink. "Maxie would be proud of you, Colonel."

Monty chuckled lightly and shook his head. He looked to his left for a moment, catching sight of a familiar figure. Their eyes met for a moment, and he knew it was time to leave. Besides, Indigo Beta was getting bored in her dress. He smiled to her, making the show look good, and turned back to Niaomi and Pate. "If you'll both excuse me, I see someone I 'aven't spoken with in years." He nodded to them each, and received a handshake from both before turning to meet with Indigo. Their survey of the room was done. They could leave now.

Niaomi watched the Aussie for a moment more and let out a slight sigh. "Is something wrong?" Pate asked with concern in his voice.

"I don't know," she replied and took a sip of her wine. But I plan on finding out.

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 3

The door to the suite opened slowly as the bell hop ensured that nothing was damaged. For three people there was a lot of luggage for just a four day convention. The bellhop busied himself with the luggage, removing it from the carriage as Niaomi lay Petey down on the bed. It had been a long trip, and the boy was very tired, even if he began with excitement in his eyes. Maxwell paid the bellhop a tip and thanked the man, then proceeded to sit heavily in one of the chairs in the room. Niaomi had already stretched out on one of the other beds.

"I can't believe we just drove for thirteen hours," she said in an exasperated voice. "I don't think I ever want to see the inside of a car again."

"We have to drive back," Maxwell reminded her.

"Forget it," she huffed. "I'll call up the director of CSIS and see if he can't get a Hercules to pick us all up." She chuckled as she made the comment, only making Maxwell laugh as well. "What's the plan for tonight?" Niaomi said softly, changing the subject.

"Dinner with the professors," Maxwell said as he took out a small brochure. It detailed their weekend and different events and discussions at the conference. "Cocktails at six, and dinner at seven. Guest speaker to follow."

"Are you speaking at this tonight?" Niaomi asked as she draped one arm over her eyes.

"No," Maxwell replied as he set down the brochure. "I don't speak until tomorrow afternoon."

"Good," she stated, not moving a muscle. "Who gets the first crack at the shower?"

"I don't wanna move," he replied as he lay his head back on the chair. As the pair of adults didn't move, to tired to do anything more than just breath, Petey woke up. He looked around for a moment, then caught sight of the door to the bathroom, and lazily loped over to it. Soon, after the door had closed, the sound of running water could be heard. Maxwell looked up for only a moment to gaze toward the bathroom door, then over to Niaomi. "He's having a shower? Isn't that a cardinal sin for an eight year old?"

"He's a smart kid," Niaomi replied, still not moving. "Dibs after he's done. Because I'll have to clean it before you get in."

"Good," Maxwell replied as he yawned. "Maybe I'll get a nap." He sat in the chair for a moment longer, letting the silence fill the room. And then spoke the most random thing. "I wonder how Zachary's doing with Ernie."

Niaomi could only chuckle where she lay. "You and that damned cat."

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 2

"...the world will always be changing. And something is coming. We have to be prepared for it. We must stand together, for the betterment of mankind." Each word from the general was emphasized with a fist pumped into the air. The men and women on the floor of the gathering hall cheered as the speech came to an end. But up in the top level, where the other gunslingers gathered, there was no cheering. They'd heard the flowery speeches before. They knew what life was like for them and the agents under their command.

One of them knew only too well.

John Walker tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his boot as he moved toward the exit. "They knew you were smoking, Rose," one of the other gunslingers said without looking up. "They'd have you killed."

"Their minds 're more concerned with matters o' politics, m'friend," Walker replied calmly after he took a drag off the cigarette. "An' those politics don't include the cleanliness o' air. 'Sides, they already choke up the air 'nough with their rhetoric."

"Ya keep talkin' like that, mate an' ya'll get y'self shot," the Aussie next to him drawled. Omega Six. The man had served long enough with Walker in this organization, and had seen more than many of those in the upper hierarchy of the Illuminati. "The word's lay low an' keep quiet, innit mate?"

"Only in the field, Six," Walker replied. He looked back toward the main stage as more speeches were being made to the gathered crowd. A futile effort to bolster courage. "C'mon, Six. We don't need ta hear anymore o' this bullshit." He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand absently as he began walking down the hallway. Today was a bad day, today he actually felt old as his arthritis began to flare up. Not a good thing for a gunslinger to be afflicted with.

Omega Six glanced down to the convention floor before turning to catch up with Walker. "Things're changin', innit, Sir?" Six knew that Walker had an idea of what was about to happen.

"Yeah, Six. They are." Walker collected his gear in his slow, methodical way as he spoke. "Remember the orders we got fer Ohio?" Six nodded sagely. "Well, I scouted the target out. They want us ta hit a university. Tag some kids. Kids that were the younguns o' a coupla senators. Know how old they were?" His men said nothing, they only waited for some sort of reply. "Seventeen, maybe eighteen." He inhaled from the cigarette deeply and closed his eyes. "Boys. It's time I got out."

A few of the other men began to protest, but a look from Omega Six quickly quieted them. They'd been in the service of the old gunslinger for years, and they knew of his convictions. When he'd made a decision, he would stick to it. "Whaddya want us ta do, mate?"

"Monty," Johnathon Walker sighed as he dropped the formalities of rank. Malcolm Montgomery Watt had been his second in command for longer than even the old gun hand could remember. "You know how good we are at fixin' things. Well, it's 'bout time we fix things up real good, an' make this here group think things went so south, that it were us that bought it."

"Disappear," Monty replied quietly. His commanding officer nodded in full agreement. Within a few moments, the decision had been made. And no one argued anymore. They'd back his play.

Walker was getting out.