Chapter 010

                “I’m dead as soon as I post bail. I’ve got bigger things to worry about.”
                                Verbal Kent, The Usual Suspects

                The door to the interrogation room opened up and the two police officers walked in. Malcolm looked up at the two, his dazed expression saying everything. He waited as the two sat down at the table, the first one laying a manila folder down on the table between all three of them.

                “Mr. Guitarte,” The first officer said, wrapping his fingers together, putting his hands into the center of the table. “We’ve decided to release you.”

                “Thank god.” Malcolm said, nearly collapsing in his seat.

                “For very tragic reasons.” Continued the officer.

                “What do you mean?” Malcolm said, looking up at the two. A cold chill ran down Malcolm’s spine. He looked from the first officer, to the second, then back. “What happened?”

                “There was a shooting today by one of the malls.” Answered the first officer. “The gun used in the shooting was the same gun used at the club shooting.”

                “Oh my god.” Malcolm said, closing his eyes. The two officers stood, their height dwarfing the seated Malcolm.

                “An officer in uniform will be in shortly. She’ll walk you through the paper work for the release.” Said the officer. “Have a good day, Mr. Guitarte.” The words came with a chilling intonation.

                Armand sat back against the rough walls of the mall’s entrance, the daylight lost on him. He watched the black body bag move into the ambulance, then the sirens light up. The wail of the emergency vehicle was lost on him as it disappeared, heading with a casual rush to some distant hospital.

                Armand swallowed, leaning his head back. He glanced over across the parking lot, where the hills were covered with police, scouring the area, looking for even the slightest evidence of the sniper.

                “Armand.”
                The young knight turned his head as Everett rushed through the doors of the mall. He stopped a few feet from Armand, shocked to see the turmoil of the scene. The children were still crying, while the medics were kneeling down with the old man, watching over him as he breathed into the clear oxygen mask.

                “I heard you were a hero.” Everett said to Armand, looking at the old man.

                “My swim coach always told me knowing CPR would come in handy one day.” Armand said casually. Everett tried to smile jovially, but the crying kids, inconsolable as they were, echoed through the large opening of the mall.

                “Hey.”

                Everett and Armand turned, as Roland came out of the mall. “You got here quick.” Roland said, sliding his baseball cap back onto his head, the bill facing behind him.

                “You said it was an emergency.” Everett said. He looked out over the crowd of emergency vehicles. “You weren’t kidding.” He looked back at Roland. “Did you see anything?”

                “After we heard the shot and the woman and the old man fell, I tried to help the woman.” Roland said.

                “How bad was it?” Everett asked. Roland moved his finger quickly, placing the tip of his index finger right between his eyes. “Oh god.” Everett said, going cold.

                “Yeah.” Armand said, still shaken.

                “I tried to run up there, but I’m not under arms and by the time I got there, well . . .” Roland stopped there.

                “You’re under arms, right?” Everett asked, looking at Armand. The younger knight glanced at him, as if confused. “You’ve got your sword, right?” Armand shook his head. “Probably for the best.” Everett said, noting the swarm of police cars.

                He looked out over the sea of vehicles, then turned to Roland and Armand. “We need to call Edgar and Ledger. We need to talk about this.”

                “What do you mean?” Roland asked.

                “This is just too freaky.” Everett said, his voice hushed. “Two shootings in less than a week, knights present at both shootings. This is too perfect to be coincidence.”

                “You think there’s something going on?” Roland whispered.

                “Maybe.” Everett said. But he looked at Roland, shrugging. “I don’t know. But I think we need to talk to everyone about it.” He looked at Roland, then to Armand. “Come on.” He said, with a wave of his hand. “Let’s go.”

                “We can’t.” Armand said, morosely.

                “Why not?” Everett asked, concerned of what legal problems the police were giving the two.

                “Our cars out there.” Roland said, pointing back into the parking lot, roped off by the police.

                Morgan stood before the television in his small den, the remote in his hands. The screen showed the scene out from of the mall, where the police were still searching. The entire parking lot had been shut down, while the crowd was growing steadily larger.

                Morgan took a deep breath, stepping back from the television. He sat down on the couch in front of it, lowering his head to his hands as he watched. The light reflected off his reading glasses as the reports reflected off his mind.

                The door opened and Malcolm walked in. Marilyn rushed forward, embracing the president of the World Alliance. He grabbed onto her, sighing out at the embrace. “Oh thank god.” He mumbled. Marilyn moved out of the way and Ruwani rushed forward, nearly in tears. She grabbed onto Malcolm and held tightly.

                “You okay?” Victor asked, putting his hand around Marilyn’s neck.

                “Yeah.” Malcolm nodded. He let go of Ruwani and smiled at the group. “Thanks guys.”
                “No problem.” Marilyn said, her eyes teary.

                “You guys didn’t . . . you know, tell my parents, did you?” Malcolm asked, swallowing hard.

                “They might already know.” Victor said stoically. Malcolm’s head shrunk.

                “No. They’d be here.” Ruwani said, able to talk for the first time, although her voice was still choked with tears.

                “I don’t know.” Malcolm said. “If my dad ever found out I got arrested, he might not ever talk to me again.”

                “Did you get your phone call?” Marilyn asked.

                “No.” Malcolm said. “I never got charged, so . . .” He shrugged.

                “Hey.” Ruwani said, jumping at him again. “Come on. Let’s just get out of here.”

                “A-men.” Malcolm said, walking with the girl as the four headed out.

                “It would seem that the first step has gone well.” Jericho said, addressing the darkness. “Eli chose an excellent target. A young mother, with children.”

                “Excellent.” Came the second voice.

                “He was well-trained.” Said the first. “You did very well, Jericho.”

                “Phillip tells me that the base is at ten percent completion.” Jericho went on; his shoulders back as he spoke. “Ken has secured the materials needed for the next month of construction, but without the key material that Phillip’s men lost, they will not be able to continue.”

                “Let us worry about the base, Jericho.” Came the third voice. The longhaired man stiffened, the abrasive voice hitting him harshly. “We will discuss that with Phillip and Ken.”

                “And what about Aaron?” Jericho said. “He has been continuing to . . .”

                “That will be all.” Came the second voice.

                Light.

                Jericho was left standing in the metal room. He looked around, staring at the rust stains near the open window. He growled, then turned to the door. With a fast push, he threw it open.

                Errol and Ian stood at the mall’s entrance, watching as the police cars slowly began to pull away from the edge of the forest. In the nighttime light, the parking lot slowly died as the giant spotlights the police used shut down one by one.

                “The investigation’s over.” Ian said, glancing at Errol.

                “Looks that way.” Errol said, biting into a soft-dough pretzel.

                “Should we . . .” Ian started.

                “No.” Errol said. “They might just be waiting for the criminal to return to the scene of the crime.”

                “But we’re not the criminal.” Ian said thoughtfully.

                “No, Ian. No we’re not.” Errol said. “But they don’t know that. And they might not care, even if they do.” He looked to Ian, his head turned as a police officer walked by. “They arrested one of those Alliance brats and held him ‘til this happened. You and I could be even more easily be mistaken for a gunman.”

                “I suppose.” Ian shrugged. “What should we do?”

                “What else?” Errol said. He started to fish through his pockets. “We do our jobs.” He pulled out a small cell phone. “We call Aaron.”