This work is a fanfic for the television show "Gargoyles". It is written in tribute to the fine work that went into making such a compelling cartoon. All characters from the TV show are copyrighted to Disney and Buena Vista Television. [Translation: Don't sue, it's meant to be a compliment.]
This fanfic is a continuation of my original story "Silence Speaks" (Tyger! Tyger! Pt 1) and should not be read before the previous work. It occurs nearly a month after the first story, approximately after the episode "Grief" occured.
Work proceeds well on the third story in this series. I only await feedback from my proofreaders/editors. I also intend on completing some of the other threads with another story at some later date. Fanfic progress (F) is inversely proportional to Workload (W).
I value the opinion of my readers and enjoy getting feedback from them (both good and bad). For those wishing to comment on this fanfic may email their comments to marlos@spottycat.com and I will reply as promptly as possible.
For those concerned, I'll give this story a C8 rating (Y7 for you americans :P). It's the same level of stuff that appears in the tv show.
* Friday Afternoon *
Flash!
"How did she manage to talk me into this?" he thought to himself.
"Oui! Comme ça. Hold eet."
Flash!
Claw tugged at the scarf around his neck and glanced nervously at Tara. She nodded and gave him a proud smile. He rolled his eyes and faced the camera again.
"Now zis time, lean against ze back of ze plane and look to ze distance. You are ze great pilot. You are in charge... you never make mistakes... confident in your abilities... Hold eet."
Flash!
"And stand straight. Be tall. You are ze proud pilot, just back from ze tough but successful mission."
Flash!
"Merveilleux! Parfait! Now zis time give me a growl and it will be even better," the short Frenchman said. Jean hopped around the set like it was a hot griddle.
Claw glanced around nervously and saw Tara shrug. He sighed and rrrr-ed softly at Jean who stood just out of the camera's sight. "Non, non! You are ze vicious tigre, not ze little puzzycat. Rrrr! Comme ça! Rrrr!" With his hands held like menacing talons, Jean bared his teeth with a pitifully weak snarl. The absurdly purple and red outfit he wore didn't make him any more threatening.
Frustrated, Claw unleashed a deep-throated "GRRROWL!" The photographer stumbled back and tripped over a chair. The prop men dropped their doughnuts onto the floor. Tara gasped and covered her mouth. Claw blinked and slammed his mouth shut with an audible snap in the silence his growl left behind.
Jean seemed completely unfazed, except for a bigger smile. "Oui! Parfait! Superbe! Maurice? Vhat are you doing on ze floor? You did not get ze picture? Vhy do I put up vith you, fool?" Golf clapping, he looked around. "Alons les gars, let's do eet again. And zis time James, vith feeling."
Claw sighed.
Flash!
After the photo shoot, Tara unbuttoned the back of the altered flight suit so Claw could pull his wings free. He sighed depressedly. "James, you did great out there. I was worried for a sec with that growl. But if those clothes he wears can't scare Jean, I guess nothing can." She stifled a giggle. Claw gave the dressing room door a worried glance. "Don't worry. First chance I got, I whispered to the others that you used a tape recorder hidden in your pocket."
"But I didn't have my hands in my pockets when I..." he started a 'gr' on the etch pad she'd given him, but smudged it out, "...did it."
"They were too surprised to remember."
"That was very clever of you." He smiled.
"I'm glad you decided to do this, James." He stopped and gave her a look while balancing with one leg half out of the flight suit. "Ok, I insisted, but you guys do need some money to run the Labyrinth. And besides, it lets you show off this nice tail of yours." She tugged lightly at the end of it. He grunted and pulled it away. Shucking the rest of the flight suit revealed his usual blue shorts .
There came a knocking at the door. "Allo? Eet eez moi." It was Jean's unmistakeably nasal voice. "May I come in?"
Tara and Claw sighed as one before opening the door. "Hi Jean," she said as Claw nodded and took a seat on the edge of the dresser.
"Monsieur Maxwell, you vere superbe. Zo big and zo poverful looking. Dis vill surely be one of my best sets. I have to ask you again, how did you make such a vonderful costume? C'est fantastique. I have a friend Antoine who I know vould love to know how you can make one so real." Claw just shook his head. "Non? Pitié."
"Oh Jean," Tara said teasingly, "I told you James wasn't going to tell you. He only makes them for himself and a few of his friends... and he's too shy to do any outside of the suit either, so don't even bother asking." Claw nodded.
He brushed the rejection off with a hand motion. "Pitié. En tout cas, I'll have ze prints vor you on Monday. Be zure to zend me copies of ze ads before you run zem." Tara nodded. "Adieu." He disappeared out the door in a streak of purple and red.
"See, I told you I had it covered. Everybody thinks it's just a costume you made." He smiled and nodded. "When I heard Peter talking about the account, I knew the perfect model for Tyger Airlines."
Handing her the etch pad, he hopped off the dresser and bundled up their stuff. "We've got to keep a low profile." He glanced at the new wristwatch she'd given him and motioned for the pad back.
"I know. We should be getting back. Lex will be waiting for you."
"Knowing Lex, he won't wait long."
Upon their return to the Labyrinth, they found this to be the case. Lex had grown tired of waiting even though he'd only awakened an hour ago. Through the window between Claw's room and the lab, they could see the small tan gargoyle scratching his brow. He nearly dropped the interface card he was looking at when they opened the door. He shifted nervously on the chair and hid it behind his back.
"Hi guys... ummm... everything turn out ok?"
Claw glared at him impatiently and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Lex, we told you to wait. Claw's the one who knows about hardware. You're just all stone and impatience, aren't you?" Tara teased. "The photo shoot went great. I told everybody it was a costume and nobody knew the difference."
Claw offered Lex the etch pad with one paw while making a gimme motion with the other. Lex sheepishly handed over the card and read the note. "So, what did you get done?" it stated.
"Not much. I was only trying to decide which of the cards to try." He pointed to one of the them. "I think this one, the one that was already in it, is burnt."
Claw nodded, grounded himself with the floor wire and peered at the board through a mounted magnifying glass. Tara sighed and leaned against him, stroking his soft fur while the guys worked.
She woke up hours later when Claw tapped lightly at her shoulder. She blinked a few times to clear the sleep from her eyes and glanced around. "All done?" He nodded and pointed to the pair of computers Lex was sealing the cases onto.
"Yup," Lex said, "Once we got the first one assembled, I sorted the OS out while Claw finished up the other. I'll just move this one into the other room and make sure they'll network." He draped his wing-like arms around it and hobbled off to the next room.
Tara glanced at her watch. "1:40 am? I don't know how you can be up all day and still work late into the night. Must be all those catnaps you take on my couch." He grunted and turned the terminal on. She ruffled his long orange hair and gave him a hug.
"Ok," Lex called out from the next room, "I've got it all hooked up. Lets see if they'll talk to one another." Claw waved an arm and nodded. They started testing the programs and checking out the system.
"So now you'll be able to keep an eye on the automated systems? Make sure nothing goes wrong?" Tara asked.
Claw nodded and typed, "Yes, and also the surveillance system. Warning in case someone finds us." on the command line. Hitting the Enter key only resulted in the infamous `Bad command or file name' statement.
"Do you think that's necessary?"
"Derek thinks so... and it doesn't hurt to be prepared."
"I guess so. I don't want Sevarius coming along and taking away my Rum Tum Tugger." She poked his side and tickled.
He made a "mrhhhh" sound and shifted away a little.
"What's wrong?"
He clacked away at the keyboard. "And we can send messages. Here watch." With a spurt of typing he sent Lex a message: "Test."
Lex gave a startled "Hey!" and sent a message back. "Success!"
Lex ran in on all fours in an excited trot. Tara smiled and held back a laugh. Lex was the only one of the gargoyles who didn't unnerve her, probably because of his size. Oh, they were all quite friendly; they just made her a little edgy sometimes. She sighed and stopped wool-gathering and watched the guys.
Lex and Claw were talking. More correctly Lex was talking while Claw typed what he wanted to say onto the screen. "So when is the next free night you'll have so we can have a go at the systems?" Claw typed.
"Next Tuesday night. I'm off patrol this Tuesday too, but I was planning to take in a movie instead. Would you care to join me?"
Tara nodded. "Sure, we'd love to." Claw shrugged and nodded.
"Great. Sunset's at around seven, so just drop by then."
Reynard glanced up as he heard a knock at his door. "Come in, Mr Vogel."
"I'm sorry to disturb you." Preston Vogel spoke in his usual stiff and formal voice. "I know you need your rest after the incident in Prague, but I think you should take a look at this."
"What is it, Mr Vogel?"
"I've just gotten some disturbing news from our computer system's manager. It seems there's been an unauthorized access."
"What?" Reynard stiffened and coughed weakly. "Are they trying to hack our systems? Strike us with a virus?"
"There seems to be no attempt to access the system. The activity is... quite unusual. Here, if I may show you?" At a nod, he entered a series of access codes and commands to a terminal nearby.
"This is most interesting, Vogel. How did they access the system?"
"I'm uncertain, sir. The system's manager is currently trying to determine the source. What shall we do about it, Mr Reynard?"
"It seems to have stopped for the moment. Well, whoever they are, they're bound to enter again. Too bad we don't have the answer to that question." He pointed to the final command line entered. "Has the access been limited?"
"I authorized it immediately, sir."
"Very good. Mr Vogel, I want you to keep an eye on this. Watch the system for another access attempt." Another cough. "I want to know who's after my company. And keep the technicians out of it, they may have a man on the inside."
"Yes sir. I'll inform you of any changes."
* Monday *
"Ms Collins."
Tara looked up as an opened packet flopped onto her desk.
"Oh, Mr Johnson. They're here?" She enthusiastically slid the proofs out and looked them over.
"So tell me again how you found this guy," he asked.
"Peter, he's a friend of mine. I met James at a costume party."
"James?" Sally chimed up from the neighbouring desk and began poking at the pictures. "So this is the guy you've been seeing? He's big. He must have quite a body under that suit." Her raised voice caught the attention of the rest of the office pool and soon everyone was passing around the proofs.
When Tara'd shown up at work Tuesday morning after the weekend she'd met Claw, her co-workers were curious as to why she'd missed work the day before. They also noticed how much brighter she seemed. For all their questions, they'd gotten scant little about her "he's-just-a-friend" James.
It took Tara a few minutes of white lies to shake them off. Peter just stood there through the barrage, chuckling softly. He motioned for them to go into his office.
She closed the door and gave him a mock scowl. "You fink. You knew they'd swarm me like that."
"Hey! I'm as curious as the rest of them. So," he gave her a gentle look, "is he really good to you?" She'd been pretty down after the problems with her last boyfriend and he didn't want to see her go through it again.
"I've told you: he's just a friend."
He nodded. "There she goes again. After what happened with the last one, she's scared to admit she might feel something about this guy," he thought glumly .
"But thanks for asking... and Pete, he's real nice."
He smiled. "Jean seemed impressed too."
"He doesn't complain much." She looked a little distant. "He's good at following orders." Memories of Fang's authority over Claw quickly filled her mind.
Later that afternoon, Tara spoke to Larry in accounting.
"Thanks for doing this for me, Larry. I'll be seeing James later tonight and I promised him I'd bring him his pay."
"Just be sure you get him to sign the receipt forms. He did request cash when he filled out the consent forms, so I've got to be strict on the procedure." The company always kept some cash funds available for ads that were done on the streets with real people. "If it was anyone else, I wouldn't be doing this."
"Will do. He'll be stopping by my place tonight, so I'll have these for you in the morning. Thanks again."
"Sure."
Meanwhile, someone waiting outside listened in on their conversation. "Very interesting" he whispered to himself as he eavesdropped.
She heard a gentle tapping at her window and rushed over to let Claw in. He gave her a soft hug hello.
"Hi James. How was your day?"
He flashed her an okay sign and then pointed to her.
"My day? Fine. The photos turned out great and after some friendly questions about you, I managed to get your pay." She handed him the envelope.
He smiled and wrote swiftly. "Thanks, I don't think there's any way I could've picked up or cashed a check."
As he signed the forms, she chuckled. "They'd have trouble matching you to your ID now that you've let your hair grow long."
The soft rumble of his laugh was cut short by a knock at the door. He dropped the papers and dove behind the kitchen counter.
She peeked through the spyhole and sighed. She slowly opened the door halfway and put on a smile. "Hi Paul. What's up?"
He leaned on the door casually, pushing it open the rest of the way. "I was just in the neighbourhood and thought I'd drop by. Say hello and all that." He gave her that great smile that won him all the contracts.
In a bland tone, she replied, "That's nice Paul, but I was about to head out." She knew him too well to fall for his friendly routine. He had a habit of alternately trying to pick up the women at the office or make trouble for them for not going out with him.
"Going to see that friend of yours? Give him his pay while you're at it?" he asked casually as he picked up the papers and the envelope of money and handed them to her.
A little confused, she nodded and mumbled a "yes".
He gave her the smile again. "Then why bother going out? He's already here, isn't he?" He turned and took a peek into her bedroom.
"N-no," she stammered, "J-James isn't here. I was just about to bring these to him."
He turned and pointed at her. "Then why are these forms already signed if the money's still here?" Poking his head into the washroom, he asked, "Or do you not plan on giving it to him at all?"
Tara started to protest, but stopped mid-sentence.
When Paul turned back to her, he came face to chest with Claw. Claw's imposing stature stunned him for a second before he remembered it was only a costume. "Hey James. Nice costume. Whatcha do... rob Lucas?" Claw rubbed the back of his head as his mouth moved silently. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"
Claw's shoulders sagged and he shuffled his feet. That was Fang's favorite barb for him. It stung as true as ever.
Tara marched right up to Paul and glared at him. "Leave him alone. You know he's mute."
"Hey, hey! I forgot. Gimme a break." There was that smile again. He poked Claw's chest. "So, what're you all dressed up for? Another kiddy party? Or is this what you two do for foreplay? She find this sort of thing kinky?" He gave him a guy-talk elbow in the side.
Tara's blood began to boil, but the faint odor of ozone shocked her to her senses. She couldn't let Paul get Claw mad. There'd be no explaining that away. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the door. "You're leaving, Paul."
"Well, what's he got that I haven't got?"
"A heart."
Paul grumbled, "I bet he doesn't even look that great under that mask."
Claw was standing beside Tara by then and gave him a shove out the door. He struck the back wall as the door slammed shut.
Buddy from down the hall gave him a drunken laugh as he stumbled into his apartment.
* Tuesday evening *
The following evening, Claw and Tara flew out to meet with Lexington. She clung to his warm chest as the cool evening air blew over them. They took their time; they didn't get a chance to do this together often.
"The ads got approved today. They'll be out by the weekend."
He smiled and opened and closed his paw three times, showing all five fingers each time.
"Fifteen? Oh," she laughed. "I guess that'll be your fifteen minutes of fame."
He nodded and pointed to a clocktower in the distance. After a few minutes, she recognized it as one of the police precincts.
"The police station? What about it?"
As they drew nearer, he pointed again to the balcony below the clockface.
Squinting at the shadowy figures, she gasped. "They live there?"
He chuckled and nodded.
Minutes later, they watched the stone skin crack and crumble off the gargoyles as the last rays of the setting sun disappeared. Tara gasped and clung closer to Claw. It didn't affect him as strongly. Xanatos had shown all the mutates a video of it. He knew what to expect, but it still left him in awe.
Brooklyn was the first to notice Claw. "Hey Claw, what's up? Anything wr..." He stopped when he noticed Tara half-covered in a wing. "Why'd you bring her?"
Lex put a hand on Brooklyn's arm. "It's ok. I invited them."
Brooklyn grumbled, "So much for the secret clubhouse."
"Don't worry. The mutates trust her with their secret." Broadway said as he picked up a grey cat. Brooklyn shrugged and stepped inside.
Hudson put a hand on her shoulder. "Auch, don't worry about it. He's just worried about Goliath and Elisa."
"Still no word?" she asked.
They shook their heads and went inside.
She was surprised by what she found inside. She didn't know what she'd expected, but it wasn't the setup they had. It was only modest furnishing, but it was really good for urban myths.
"Quite a place you guys have here."
"Be it ever so humble." Brooklyn said.
"You've got the best security system I've ever seen. 9-1-1 must get here in only ten minutes." She pointed down to the precinct below.
"You'd think so. That didn't stop Demona from visiting." He replied before he leapt down the stairs.
Still standing near the door, Claw hung his head, remembering the time when he'd first came here. Derek had sent the three other mutates to capture Goliath for him. Hudson easily guessed what was troubling him and gave his shoulder a comforting pat. "Don't let it trouble ye, lad. 'Tis all in the past."
Claw tapped Tara's shoulder, pointed to the door and mimed a movie camera as if he were playing charades. "You're right, Claw. We'd best be going to the movie."
Once outside, Lex turned to them. "I'm sorry about that. I forgot to tell them you were coming." They nodded and glided off to the theater.
* Friday Evening *
The big man stood in the early evening shadows. Things were still pretty active, but he might get lucky. Someone foolish enough to take a short-cut through the alley perhaps, rushing to get home Friday night. He sank deeper into the gloom as he heard the bus pulling up. Maybe one of the passengers, he thought. He was stunned when the bus pulled up to a stop in front of him.
IT was on the bus. Not riding it, but plastered across the side on a large ad. It was dressed differently, but there was no mistaking it: the orange striped fur, the bat wings, the heavy build. Mark had found his prey again and wanted revenge.
He could still remember that night clearly. He'd snatched a chick when it grabbed him from behind. They fought, but he had an edge: he knew how to fight. He'd almost finished it off when it tried to fry him. He'd come to his senses in time to see the woman helping the beast get away. He tried to follow, but was too weak. He lost track of them at the next alley.
"This time it'll be different. I'm going to get some help."
The lights turned on in the next room. The tigerman rubbed his eyes and looked through the plexiglass wall. "I wonder what's going on. I hope its not another session of poking and prodding." It had been nearly a week since he'd been put in the cell. "At least that's how long I think it's been." Now in this glass cage, he'd been subject to countless tests. When he saw an assistant roll in a tray of instruments, he growled and backed away.
Another lab assistant rolled in an operating table and his stomach sank. There was a man tightly strapped down on it. They weren't going to be content to stop with him. The man was cursing and yelling as the pair cut away his dirty rags methodically.
"No!" he screamed. But only a rough growl came out.
The man on the table turned to him and screamed in terror. The tigerman hid his face and shrank back into the shadows of the corner. He folded his horrific wings around himself and began to cry.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The striped wings opened a crack and he could see Sevarius tapping a tape recorder against the glass. "I thought you might enjoy watching this. You didn't have a good perspective to watch the first time." Sevarius motioned for the subject to be gagged, then he turned on his recorder.
"After a few hours of slumming it, I managed to locate a volunteer for the project Metamorphosis. Subject #14 is a white male, age 34. It is now 10:15 pm and the subject has just been injected.
"The mutagen is a new strain, Neofelis nebulosa, and I am hopeful that it will overcome the problems caused by the altered hyoid in the previous subject. Several alterations to plasmid group #11 have been made to reduce the hyoid's effect on normal speech while still allowing the desired vocalization. The hormone and steroid levels are identical to those used on subject #13 due to their remarkable success. Full specifications are on file..."
* Saturday *
"...took the bribe and will take a dive in the third round."
"Good work, Glasses. Keep that money flowing. Is that all the week's business?" Tony Dracon asked. A simple thing like incarceration wasn't going to stop New York's biggest crime lord.
Glasses nodded.
"But there's something else?" Dracon leaned a little closer to the grill in the plexiglass seperating him and Glasses. He still had power here in Riker's Island Prison. Privacy was not a concern.
"It has to do with those gargoyles, Tony. We might have a way to get one of them. A small-timer had a run in with one of them and says it's this guy." He held up a copy of the newspaper ad to the glass for Dracon.
"I've never seen this one before. How do we know he's telling the truth? What do we know about this guy?"
"Mark Venito. He's done a few jobs for us and has been looking to move up the ladder. He talked to Joey when he ran into the cat, so I don't think he's making it up."
"These monsters have been too much trouble. It's time to send them a message. Have a couple of guys help Mr Venito out. Let him take charge, but keep an eye on him. This can be his initiation test."
...Hours raced by in what felt like minutes. He could not turn away, drawn to watch the horrific metamorphosis. "It is now 1:45 am, three and a half hours after injection. Subject #14 is doing remarkably well. The increase in his musculoskeletal structure brought on by the mutagen is progressing well. It is not at the same level as #13's, but is still well above the minimum limit. Fur growth is in the final stages; the double layering of the coat is present as are the desired markings."
He could see the pattern Sevarius meant on the mutated man's body. The fur on his flanks had segmented patches of brown rimmed with black. The pattern was paralleled on the bat-like wings. Spots covered the face, limbs and tail.
"Involuntary defacation has ceased, denoting that the changes to the digestive system, especially the shortening of the colon, have completed. Nail and dentition growth..." Sevarius paused as he checked them "...is nearly complete."
"As for the subject himself, he is still unconcious, having passed out from the pain as noted approximately an hour ago.
Time raced on again as he watched.
"Time is 2:23 am, four hours and eight minutes after injection. Subject #14 has suffered what appears to be a brain aneurism just a few moments ago. He has just died, never having regained conciousness."
The creature that once had been James Maxwell sank into the corner and wrapped his wings around himself. He began to weep.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
There was a tapping. He knew it was Sevarius trying to get his attention.
* Sunday *
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Claw was awoken from a restless sleep by a gentle knocking at his door. Arching his back and spreading his wings, he stretched himself out. His head was pounding from the nightmare. "I wonder what it is this time? The pipes or the power? With my luck it'll be the ventilation again." He grabbed his toolbelt and opened the door. The expressionless face of Owen Burnett was not what he expected to find.
"Good afternoon, Mr Maxwell. Claw is it now? I'm here to inform you that Mr Xanatos has a proposition he would like to speak to you about."
Stunned that Xanatos knew where they were, Claw made no reply.
"After your recent modelling career, I thought you'd jump at the opportunity for further employment." An icy edge slipped into Owen's voice.
Claw shook his head sharply and growled.
Owen arched an eyebrow, but that was the only change. "Your friend, Ms Collins, is also invited. Mr Xanatos would like to make her acquaintance."
Claw dropped the tool belt in shock. A clatter of metal rung out as it fell onto the concrete.
"Mr Xanatos is quite informed on the activities of this refuge you've set up. He wishes to assure himself that you are all well."
Claw snorted and shook his head again. He pointed out the door, telling him to leave.
"Simply stop by the Eyrie Building and Mr Xanatos will see you at his earliest convenience." He turned sharply on his heels and walked down the passage.
Once Owen reached the surface, he flipped open his cel-phone and informed Xanatos that Claw would not be coming.
"As I expected, Owen. Now, like with any cat, we simply must wait for curiosity to get the best of him."
* Monday *
Wearing his best (and only) suit, Mark walked into the office building and got on the elevator. He pressed the button and mulled over what he'd say when he got there. He checked his watch again, 12:50 pm. Most of the people would be off to lunch. Less people, less questions.
"17th floor? Are you going to Davidson Advertising?" A man with an expensive suit and a perfect smile asked.
"Ummm... yes." Mark answered cautiously.
The man offered a handshake. "Paul Jackson, advertising consultant. Maybe I can help you."
Mark was amazed by his luck. If he could find out what he needed from this suit, he could avoid the heavier scrutiny at the office. He grabbed the hand and gave it a hearty shake. "Grant Warren from Dominus Transport." It was one of Dracon's many false corporations he used for creative bookwork. "Maybe you can. We've been looking to do some advertising and the boss wants this guy. Your company ran this ad, didn't it?" He held up the newspaper ad.
Paul's smile faded and he shook his head. "You don't want him. Very unprofessional person. He was rude to the others at the shoot. Nasty temper too."
The elevator opened; Mark had to be quick. "Well, my boss is dead set on having him. How can I reach him?"
"We're not allowed to divulge that information. How about I meet with your boss and work out a campaign?"
"We're prepared to pay a rather sizeable finder's fee." He passed a conspiratorial wink.
Paul flashed the smile. "Since you want to hire him, I'm sure he won't mind. Lets go to my office and I'll search the records."
At his desk, Paul quickly accessed the employment records and searched for James Maxwell's. When he got it, he was surprised. "He's moved in with her!"
Confused, Mark asked. "With who?"
Paul re-read the address and tapped the screen. "Tara Collins, our head secretary. It says here that he's living with her. Same address. Same phone number.
Mark pointed to the group photo on the wall. The one Paul used for his `all one big happy family' speech all the time. "Is she in there?" He didn't know why, but something told him it was important. Paul pointed her out.
It was her. The woman from the alley.
Five minutes later, Mark hopped into the car.
"Man, the Cat is staying with the chick from the alley. He must've been following her around that night."
"That fits with what we know about the ones we've seen." Glasses nodded and told him about how the others followed detective Maza around. How they obeyed her.
"I've got her address. Once we get her, we'll have bait for our tiger trap."
After dark, Claw landed on the fire escape and knocked lightly. No one came.
"Perhaps she has company," he thought as he peeked through the blinds. The living room chair had been knocked over and Tara's purse was spilt on the floor. He climbed in the window and searched for her. He stuck his head in every room with a soft "pook" calling for her.
When the phone rang, he jumped and his hackles rose in surprise. He turned to the phone and saw a note tucked under the reciever. It simply read "For the Cat." He took a deep breath and picked it up.
"Hello Cat. Nice to see you finally made it. Your lovely friend tells me your name is Claw. The three of us have some unfinished business. So listen up, Claw. If you want to see her again, you'll do exactly as I say. Do you understand?"
"Grrrowl!"
"I'll take that as a yes. Some friends and I are at a warehouse by the docks. Come alone in the next 30 minutes or you'll never see her again, Cat. The address is..."
As soon as the kidnapper had finished, he slammed the phone down and rushed out the window and onto the rooftop. He needed every second he could get. He knew where he was going; it would take him 25 minutes to get there. But that didn't leave him much time to prepare.
In the end, it took him 21 minutes. He had run, glided and flown as fast as he could. After glancing in the windows, he slipped quietly through one of the ceiling entrances.
He crept between the rows of crates towards the middle of the warehouse floor. The fractured light from the windows and the lit bulbs over the clearing coupled well with his camouflaged pelt. His striped fur was hard to notice against the stray strips of light on the brown crates and the grey floor. Crouching in the shadows, he saw Tara tied to a chair and gagged. A few men stood around, laser pistols at ready.
He recognized him instantly. It was the mugger from the alley. He was arguing with a black man in dark rimmed glasses. Claw's keen hearing couldn't make out what they were saying, but the tone was tense. He took one more look all around and headed back. Know your territory, a foreign instinct told him.
Creeping back silently, he found the tiny janitor's closet. The dim light from a clouded window was enough for his feline eyes. Glancing at the bottles, he quietly mixed two different buckets.
"Cat's got 4 more minutes." Glasses said matter-of-factly.
"He'll be here. He went ape on me to protect her last time, spittin' lightning and stuff. He'll be here." Mark said with confidence.
"Lightning? The ones we met never did anything like that."
"This one does. Tried to fry me." He glanced through the sight of the fancy gun they'd given him. "I'll get him this time though. Nobody messes with Mark Venito and gets away with it."
Tara pulled at her bonds and mumbled something through the gag. Mark turned and slapped her hard across the face. "Shut up."
"Venito, there's no need for that."
"Won't make a difference, Glasses. We'll get the Cat and we'll still have her. I'll be able to pick up where I left off."
"That's not how we do things. We're professionals, not street thugs. Business, not pleasure."
Mark stroked Tara's dark hair. "Surely there's time for both."
Padding noiselessly around, Claw spread the contents of one of the buckets over the some crates. Creeping quietly back to the intersection, he took a final glance down the path he'd chosen and threw a lance of lightning across to the wet crates. The fluid, a mixture of every flammable he could find, burst into flames. "Well, now they know I'm here. Better hurry" he thought as he padded swiftly and silently towards the lit center of the warehouse. As he'd expected, their attention was towards the fire at his left, away from Tara.
He sent another bolt upwards, snapping a chain and freeing a suspended crate. They had all turned to look at it. Strike from behind the instinct said. He was already running when it crashed to the ground in the corner opposite him. He had Tara in his arms before Mark saw him and called out. Red flashes from their guns narrowly missed him as he ducked down another passage cradling Tara protectively.
Running down the hallway of boxes, he turned a corner and stopped to kick over the second bucket. The soapy mixture spread over the concrete floor and the men pursuing him slammed into the wooden crates audibly. As they scrambled to their knees, Claw leapt onto the top of the row.
Claw hopped across several of the gaps before dropping down into another passageway. He set Tara down gently and unsheathed his claws. It was the first time she'd ever seen them up close. They were over an inch long, a rich amber in colour and very sharp. He tore the ropes off her and kicked the chair aside as he hugged her in his arms and wings.
She shivered and clung to him. "Oh James, I knew you'd come. That was the guy from the alley. He found out about you somehow and wants revenge."
He nodded and pointed upwards to the hatchway he'd used to get in. "But they'll see us," she whispered. He shook his head and lead her around the corner. He pointed to the fusebox with a simple smile. He'd planned this well. A bolt of lightning and a flash of sparks from the panel heralded the darkness that followed. Only the moonlight and the fire remained.
Hand in paw, they ran for the ladder. When they were almost there, the man in glasses jumped out.
Before Glasses could take aim at the Cat though, it pounced on him and bore him down with its weight. A crimson beam of energy went wide, scorching the ceiling. It grabbed his wrist and pulled the gun from him. The azure glow of electricity danced over its paw and smoke curdled from the pistol. Tossing the gun aside, it raised its fist to strike, eyes ablaze with sparks in anger.
Claw wrestled his emotions down and got off the man. He grabbed him roughly and flung him aside. He gave Tara a boost up the ladder and quickly followed her.
When Mark saw the blast, he quickly headed that way. Smoke was starting to fill the building, but he made out the forms of the woman and the Cat. He fired the gun, but the shots went wide. Once on the catwalk, they were lost in the smoke. He raced down the aisles, jumped over the semi-concious Glasses and started up the ladder.
The smoke burned their lungs and eyes as they went forwards. Clinging to the rail, they stumbled on until Claw's paw tapped against the ladder to the roof. Claw scrambled up it, shoved open the hatch and went back down for Tara. She had nearly passed out from the smoke and he wasn't much better. Boosting her up, he helped her onto the rooftop. They crawled a few yards before resting to breath in the fresh air.
Joey and the other gang members found Glasses as he was getting back on his feet. Joey pointed up to the hatch. "They got out there. Mark followed them. Should we go help him."
"No. Venito isn't cut out to be a pro. And we've got no quarrel with the Cat. Now let's pull out before the cops get here." All in all, Glasses was a fair man. A life for a life was an even trade. The Cat had spared him, so he'd leave it alone.
When Mark climbed onto the roof, he had a clearer head than they'd had when they'd gotten out. With the hatch open, the air wasn't as thick and he could see the light from the exit. His lungs ached and his eyes watered, but he took aim.
Only at the last moment did it leap aside. It crouched on all fours and growled at him. He fired again, but it leapt to the side of him, turned instantly and pounced at him. Slashing at his wrist, it tore the pistol from him and tossed it aside.
The man gave the tigerman a blow to the shoulder with his off hand as soon as he'd been disarmed. A knee to the stomach quickly followed it. Claw pushed the guy back and swung wide punches.
Mark dodged back from the swings and waited for his chance. He sent a kick to the beast's chest, then another and another. It stumbled back a few steps, but he was surprised as the woman grappled him from behind. He elbowed her in the ribs, but it was too late by then. The Cat grabbed him and shoved him to the ground. Head hanging over the open hatchway, it slammed him down a few times. The smoke stung his eyes and the jarring made him dizzy.
Claw tossed him aside and took Tara into his arms. Mark found the pistol and fired. The smoke had left him teary-eyed and he missed narrowly. Claw dashed quickly and leapt across to the next building with wings spread to glide.
Mark fired again and chased him. He leapt. A combination of his blurred vision and his dizzyness had him jump early. Failing to clear the gap, he crashed onto a stack of cardboard boxes and old rubbish.
Claw turned back and saw him try to rise. He could hear sirens now. A police car pulled up in front of the alley.
Officer Morgan had seen the blasts from the rooftop and the guy's failed attempt to escape to the next building. After a quick check, he bagged the gun and called an ambulance for the firebug.
Claw sighed in relief and glided Tara home.
Claw leaned back on the sofa and rubbed his forehead, trying to come to grips with everything that had happened. Tara was safe now, but for how long? He listened to the running water; she was showering away the smoke. He had to think; his mind felt like a sea of questions and he had no good answers. The guy from the alley had been caught, but what about the others? What if they came back? How had they found them? Was she safe here at all now?
Tara scrubbed her hair, trying to wash away the slime she imagined from Mark's touch. Claw had saved her and Mark was going to jail. It was over. She kept telling herself that, but somehow that was hard to believe.
She heard a knock at the door and called out "Just a minute." As she pulled on her bathrobe, she heard Claw open the door. She rushed out to find him letting a man in. He wore glasses, a neatly pressed suit and a single grey glove.
"Ms Collins, I assume. I hope I haven't come at a bad time." The blond man spoke in a toneless voice.
"Claw, who is this?" she asked.
"Owen Burnett, ma'am. Mr Xanatos's aid. He wishes me to inform you that the invitation is still open."
"What is he talking about? What invitation?" She turned from Claw to Owen. "Xanatos?" She yelled the name as it registered. "What does he want with us?"
"I am not at liberty to discuss the details, but I can say that he is offering something your friend truely desires."
"We don't wa..." She was stopped suddenly as she got a better look at the gloved hand. It wasn't a glove at all; it was stone.
Claw put a paw on her shoulder and signed for her to wait. He hated to admit it to himself, but Xanatos might be able to get them out of the mess they were in.
"One should never reject an offer before hearing it." Owen said.
"Fine. Tell us what Xanatos is offering so we can say no and you can get out of our lives." Tara snapped at him.
"An opportunity to regain his humanity."