and they had to pull him away.
Dillon turned toward the officers. They were running over to the injured. Behind them a woman in a wheelchair was coming out. She spotted him and sat perfectly still. He floated over the injured and lifted one man that had been shot in the neck. He brought him over and laid him down as two other officers grabbed him and ran off toward some police cruisers.
“Those were some bad dudes,” he said.
“What…what the hell are you?”
“Onyx. Onyx has nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“What…I mean…”
“Shame I destroyed that Mercedes. That was an SL55.”
“I…”
“Woman of few words. I like that.” He began drifting higher. “ Probably be pretty easy to get ’em, we are on an island.”
He flew off, glancing back once to see the woman still staring up at him. Farther down the road, the men were at a full sprint. The one in the white suit staring up at the sky.
25
James Mentzer picked up some take out and called Niles to say he was going to be a little late. He left a message for him and then stopped at a local wine store and picked up a bottle of Montrachet for six hundred dollars. Worth it, he thought. Besides, he’d spoken to Dillon yesterday and George and Henry had accepted the buyout. They were millionaires, all of them, and though the jewels were technically stolen, taking from warlords and slavers wasn’t exactly an immoral deed.
He drove down the interstate and got off on his exit. The beach was empty as night had fallen. He turned on the local talk-radio station and they were discussing the weapons smugglers that had been arrested yesterday. Apparently a shootout had occurred but had been stopped by a man in a bulletproof suit. James shook his head. He was glad Dillon had told him about it rather than his finding out on the news. Still, it was too much. This suit was dangerous. At some point, after things had settled down and the excitement of a new toy had worn off, he would convince Dillon to sell it. They were not equipped to deal with it.
He pulled into his driveway and saw Niles’ BMW. Taking the food, he went and opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. What he saw made him drop the food, his heart nearly jumping into his throat.
Niles was strapped to a chair, his face bloodied and bruised. Several men sat around him. There was one in a white suit who smiled at him.
“Hello,” he said. He pulled out a pistol from his waistband and shot Niles’ knee, fragments of ligament and bone flying in every direction. Niles screamed.
“Stop!” James said. “Who the bloody hell are you?”
“I am a man in need of something, Mr. Mentzer. A suit, that apparently, your son seems to have. Please, sit down.”
James sat. “You can have the suit, please let him go.”
“Very nice of you. Where is it right now?”
“I don’t know.”
El Sacerdote pointed the weapon at Niles’ other knee.
“No! Don’t, please. I really don’t know. He should be here soon.”
“I see,” he said, holding the pistol up. “Well, I can wait.”
“What do you want with it?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“You can’t do anything with it but study it.”
“What do you mean?”
“No one can use it except Dillon. It won’t take anyone else.”
He tapped the barrel against his temple. “Really? That is disappointing. Well, I suppose then that neither of you are any use to me.” He pointed the pistol at Niles’ head.
“No! Wait. You can’t use that suit but I know where you can get another one.”
He lowered the pistol. “There’s more than one?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see them.”
“But your son did, didn’t he? Niles here has been kind enough to inform us of your trip to Antarctica. Under a little persuasion of course. Isn’t that correct, Niles?”
Niles began to cry.
“He’s not in the mood for talking I guess.”
El Sacerdote stood. “Looks like
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