one hand, holding it in front of him like an offering. Jack had stood up to introduce himself, had even stuck out his hand to be shaken, in fact, when the old man swung the pipe at his head.
Jack half ducked but the pipe still banged him good on his left shoulder before glancing hard against his ear. Blood splattered from his ear and he reeled from the stunning ringing in his head and if he'd been alone the old man might have finished him off.
But he wasn't alone. The old man was down hard on the street with the deputy handcuffing him within three seconds. The next minutes were spent bandaging up Jack's ear and screaming at the local cops for an explanation as to just who in the hell let this crazy old fart in here, anyway?
That's just Old Vic, they were told.
Who?
Old Vic Jennings. He's just a crazy old coot lives down there by the railroad tracks. He's an Englishman. Uh, ya'll don't wanna press charges or nothing, do you?
Jack stood up and pointed to the bandage covering the left side of his head. "I sure as Hell do!"
The cops looked back and forth between each other, shrugged, and tried to explain that "there's kinda somewhat of a problem with that."
Oh, really? Team Crow asked.
Jack looked down at Old Vic, who seemed delighted with all the attention. He was grinning a satisfied death's-head grin at Jack. The two men exchanged silent looks while the Team heard the song and dance about being able to arrest him, okay! We can arrest him easy. Only they couldn't put 'im in the jail on account of the jail being closed because of two prisoners we got down there got AIDS and we don't wanna risk no epidemic thing.
Jack was listening as he stared at the old man's grin and tried to keep from grinning back. He asked one question:
By whose order was the jail closed?
The mayor, he was told.
Jack nodded, told them to take the old man away anywhere they wanted - to the Hood County Jail, if necessary - but keep him away from Team Crow.
"Because," he added, "we'll be finished here in another hour and I don't want anything to screw it up. Dig?"
They dug. They hauled Old Vic, still grinning, to a squad car. He had never, Jack suddenly realized, said a single word.
Didn't have to, thought Jack, finally letting himself smile. He got what he wanted, attention, without it.
Thirty minutes later, Jack and his gunman were ready to hit the warehouse basement. Just the two of them.
Jack had fussed and fretted over the choice but he couldn't think of another way to do it. He had to go; he was in charge. Felix had to go; he was too good. But what about backup?
Well, what about it? They were going after master vampires, the ones in charge, the ones who'd created the goons in the first place, and if they came across them in that narrow stairwell anything that was going to happen would crack too fast for anyone to stop it. Jack didn't believe the masters were down there - they were in that goddamned jail - but if they were they might very well wipe out the entire Team. This way there'd at least be somebody left to do it the old-fashioned way, with plastique.
And besides, he wasn't sure he wanted a lot of trigger-happy well-meaners shooting off pistols and crossbows past his head.
No. Just him and Felix would go down, with both halogen crosses blazing from their chests. Felix first.
Crow felt the last part deserved an explanation but Felix didn't need one. Felix didn't even raise an eyebrow. Gunman first made sense to him too. Then Jack tried to explain about master vampires, the real live movie types that could throw cars and move so fast they literally blurred, but he didn't think he had the gunman's attention.
"You're saying they're worse, right?" Felix interrupted at last, sounding irritated and bored.
Jack just nodded.
Felix nodded in turn. "I figured that," he whispered harshly. "Now let's get on with it!"
They did.
The rich, rotten-sweet smell of death and decay rose up to them from the dark basement stairs through the harsh smoky halogen beams. Jack nodded one last time to Cat and Adam, who would wait there on the first-floor battleground for them. Then he touched Felix on the shoulder and the gunman started down the steps. There was no trouble on the way down, save for