all right?” I kept one hand on his sleeve, keeping him in place, and used the other to brush my long hair off my face. “Sorry about that,” I looked up at Marshwin and Wexford. “You have concerns?”
Mary Marshwin looked to Wexford, then back to me. She didn’t just look taken aback, she looked taken to the next damned county. “I don’t wish to incur your wrath—”
“If you want me to surrender my guns, I will,” I said. “Under protest, since we’re dealing with at least one meta who has proven himself dangerous, but I’ll do it. If you want me to leave, I’ll do that. In spite of what this dickhead thinks, I’m here to help you, and I’ll comply with what you want as best I can.” I felt my face go stiff. “But this guy—the one I just ran across, the villain, not the moron drooling in your carpet—he’s dangerous. Truly vicious and well equipped. He’s a genuine threat. Probably the first one I’ve run into in two years.”
“I don’t have a problem with you keeping your weapons,” Mary Marshwin said—of course—sternly.
“We would ask that you be careful in discharging them, though,” Wexford added, sounding slightly apologetic.
“Much appreciated,” I said.
“It’s no less than we’ve done for others of your law enforcement branches over the years,” Wexford said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We do have another concern, though, and it’s about your…” He coughed, delicately, and looked to Marshwin.
“We don’t want you flying over the city of London,” Marshwin said. “At all.”
“London is a no-fly zone,” I repeated back to her. “Got it.”
“And do try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum,” Marshwin said, emotionless. “We’ve had some problems in the last few years with spots on our reputation due to police actions that have resulted in deaths. We’d like to try and get these bastards alive if possible.” I got the sense from the way she said it that “bastards” might have been Mary Marshwin’s strongest epithet.
“Yes, alive would be best if possible,” Alistair Wexford said with an apologetic tinge to his smile. “I’m sorry if that puts you out, but—”
“I’ll do what I can,” I said. I looked down at Halstead. I could see half his face, and his lips were partially visible. “Hear that? That’s how you make a polite request of someone.” I shook my head at Marshwin and Wexford. “I love your British manners. No one can deliver bad news quite like you folks can.”
“Would you mind letting him loose?” Wexford asked. “I hate to impose, but… we are responsible for his safety while he’s here…”
“Sure,” I said, and let him go with a final, not-so-gentle crank of the arm that elicited a grunt of pain. “Since you asked nicely.”
“What will you do now?” Marshwin asked, her spine just a little straighter now that Halstead was out of my grip. It was the only hint of how stressed she must have been while watching me manhandle him.
“Follow your boy Webster’s lead,” I said, cracking my knuckles now that my hand was free of Halstead. I popped each of them in turn, eliciting a wince from Wexford and an even stare from Marshwin. “Track this guy down. Stop him.”
“Very good,” Wexford said, still with that tight smile. He looked a little like a butler who’d been told he was done for the night. “We entrust this investigation to your capable hands, Ms. Nealon.”
“At least somebody does,” I said, nudging Halstead with my toe as I turned to leave. He grunted, clutching his arm and wrist to his side. Wuss. I hadn’t broken them or anything, though soft tissue damage was a possibility.
“And Ms. Nealon,” Wexford said as I hit the door, opening it.
“Yes?” I asked, turning about.
“Do be careful,” Wexford said with a faint smile tinged with worry. “I should not care to see you come to additional harm while assisting us.”
“There’s nothing these pricks can do to hurt me.”
Mary Marshwin looked to Wexford, then back to me. She didn’t just look taken aback, she looked taken to the next damned county. “I don’t wish to incur your wrath—”
“If you want me to surrender my guns, I will,” I said. “Under protest, since we’re dealing with at least one meta who has proven himself dangerous, but I’ll do it. If you want me to leave, I’ll do that. In spite of what this dickhead thinks, I’m here to help you, and I’ll comply with what you want as best I can.” I felt my face go stiff. “But this guy—the one I just ran across, the villain, not the moron drooling in your carpet—he’s dangerous. Truly vicious and well equipped. He’s a genuine threat. Probably the first one I’ve run into in two years.”
“I don’t have a problem with you keeping your weapons,” Mary Marshwin said—of course—sternly.
“We would ask that you be careful in discharging them, though,” Wexford added, sounding slightly apologetic.
“Much appreciated,” I said.
“It’s no less than we’ve done for others of your law enforcement branches over the years,” Wexford said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We do have another concern, though, and it’s about your…” He coughed, delicately, and looked to Marshwin.
“We don’t want you flying over the city of London,” Marshwin said. “At all.”
“London is a no-fly zone,” I repeated back to her. “Got it.”
“And do try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum,” Marshwin said, emotionless. “We’ve had some problems in the last few years with spots on our reputation due to police actions that have resulted in deaths. We’d like to try and get these bastards alive if possible.” I got the sense from the way she said it that “bastards” might have been Mary Marshwin’s strongest epithet.
“Yes, alive would be best if possible,” Alistair Wexford said with an apologetic tinge to his smile. “I’m sorry if that puts you out, but—”
“I’ll do what I can,” I said. I looked down at Halstead. I could see half his face, and his lips were partially visible. “Hear that? That’s how you make a polite request of someone.” I shook my head at Marshwin and Wexford. “I love your British manners. No one can deliver bad news quite like you folks can.”
“Would you mind letting him loose?” Wexford asked. “I hate to impose, but… we are responsible for his safety while he’s here…”
“Sure,” I said, and let him go with a final, not-so-gentle crank of the arm that elicited a grunt of pain. “Since you asked nicely.”
“What will you do now?” Marshwin asked, her spine just a little straighter now that Halstead was out of my grip. It was the only hint of how stressed she must have been while watching me manhandle him.
“Follow your boy Webster’s lead,” I said, cracking my knuckles now that my hand was free of Halstead. I popped each of them in turn, eliciting a wince from Wexford and an even stare from Marshwin. “Track this guy down. Stop him.”
“Very good,” Wexford said, still with that tight smile. He looked a little like a butler who’d been told he was done for the night. “We entrust this investigation to your capable hands, Ms. Nealon.”
“At least somebody does,” I said, nudging Halstead with my toe as I turned to leave. He grunted, clutching his arm and wrist to his side. Wuss. I hadn’t broken them or anything, though soft tissue damage was a possibility.
“And Ms. Nealon,” Wexford said as I hit the door, opening it.
“Yes?” I asked, turning about.
“Do be careful,” Wexford said with a faint smile tinged with worry. “I should not care to see you come to additional harm while assisting us.”
“There’s nothing these pricks can do to hurt me.”
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