Carl Joplin leaned forward. "And how long you figure they'll wait, lawman, after they hear that first detonation?"
Kirk frowned. "They won't."
Carl nodded. "We got trouble."
"There must be some way to stop them," Adam insisted. The priest scanned the others' faces. "What stops the police?"
"You mean besides higher authority we can't get to in time?"
"Yes?"
Cigarettes were lit while everybody thought about it. Suddenly Cat laughed.
"What is it?" growled Joplin.
"The media," Cat piped.
"Huh?"
"We'll become terrorists!"
The scheme, hatched to complete detail in less than five minutes flat, was pure Cherry Cat. ROTLA, the Republic of Texas Liberation Army, would get on the horn to the Dallas - Fort Worth "media cretins" and describe their situation as a hostage crisis. True, they had no hostages. And the mayor and the chief knew better, but with helicopter Mini-cams less than fifteen minutes away, they just might hesitate a little, even after the first explosion, described to the media "as a symbolic act."
"We just tell 'em if they don't meet our demands we'll blow up a second building, like the courthouse there. Plus kill all the hostages."
"What demands?" Carl Joplin wanted to know.
"A complete list of our nonnegotiable ten-part program will be broadcast over the fascist police trenches at dawn tomorrow," replied Cat smoothly and he smiled.
The Team eyed him like he was from Venus.
"I like it!" twanged a deep voice from over Cat's shoulder.
The man they turned to see was about six feet tall, something under two hundred pounds... and relaxed. Totally and completely at ease, from the hands in his pants pockets to the half smile on his face to the ironic sparkle in his eyes. Felix tried to recall the last time he had seen a man so utterly sure of himself, so completely in control of his world.
And then he remembered - it was the last Texas sheriff he'd met.
"Boss!" cried Kirk happily. "When did you get in?"
"Coupla hours ago."
"Where have you been?"
"Been sniffing around."
"For what?"
The sheriff laughed and put a hand on his deputy's shoulder.
"To see which side of this mess is crazy."
Jack stepped forward. "What's the verdict, sheriff? Both?"
The sheriff laughed again. "Pretty much." He stuck out his hand. "How do you do, Mr. Crow. I'm Richard Hattoy."
The two shook hands.
"Glad to have you," said Jack. "You're just in time to be our first hostage."
Hattoy grinned. "They said you were a smartass."
"'They?' Who?"
"Far as I can tell, everybody who's ever met you. Kirk, you're riding with the last of the cowboys here. Been promoted, decorated, and busted down more times than you've had safe sex. And not just the military. CIA, DEA, National Security Agency, Treasury... Crow, can't you find anybody to put up with you?"
"Not so far," offered Cat.
Hattoy eyed him. "You'd be - "
"That's right, sheriff."
"You're still following him."
Cat grinned. "Don't let his rank fool you. We all drew straws and he got Kimosabe."
"That make you Tonto?"
Cat shook his head. "Court jester."
Hattoy looked him up and down. "That figures. Tell me, did you really give up a corporate law practice in Oklahoma City to paint spaceships?"
"It was Edmond, Oklahoma, and I was a science-fiction book-cover illustrator."
"Okay. What's the difference?"
Cat shrugged. "A hobbit or two."
"Uh-huh," muttered Hattoy and turned to the others. "Enough small talk. Let's get to it."
"What's up?" asked Kirk nervously.
"Relax, deputy. For once you picked right. Mr. Crow checks out with his former associates. Nobody liked him much. And nobody but nobody wants to hire him again - but they do trust him. And he's got a lot of very important people behind the scenes believing in his vampires."
"Unofficially, of course," added Jack.
"Unofficial is being generous, I'd say. But it is a backup, of a sort."
The sheriff paused, took his hands out of his pockets, and stretched mightily and yawned and they saw the pistol on his back right hip the size of a Buick.
"Okay," Hattoy went on, "So. There are vampires and you're their hunter on this continent is the story I get. If that's so, what's your problem?"
"The problem is your mayor and your police chief," said Crow, "and who knows how many others, are doing what the vampires tell them to do."
"Oh, yeah? Why?"
"They have them under a sort of spell, sheriff," said Father Adam.
Hattoy eyed the priest unhappily. "A 'spell'..."
Kirk spoke up. "I don't know what else you'd call it, Richard. We took two jailers outta here that were about bled to death and crying 'cause it was over."
"Okay... But is that any reason to blow up my goddamned