Page 60 of Concluded (The Bureau #13)

T he parking lot of the Sherman Oaks Trader Joe’s was chaotic.

Bureau agents covered in dust and blood—a couple of them naked—lay on the pavement or moved about, tending to the injured as best they could.

Customers and employees stood outside, mostly gaping, although a few had pitched in to help.

Sirens wailed from all directions, helicopters buzzed overhead, and a few blocks away, the shell of Bureau HQ smoldered, sending black smoke into the sky.

Charles, Tenrael, and a few others were doing their best to keep everyone calm and organized.

Some of the more intact agents had been ordered to keep onlookers at bay, while others commandeered first aid supplies from the store and from bystanders’ cars.

Charles was now deep in conversation with a cluster of police officers and firefighters.

Achilles knew perfectly well that he should be helping.

But all he could do was sit with Dee’s head in his lap, waiting to make sure that each breath was followed by another.

He was dimly aware of being bloody and bruised, that he was still coughing up soot and dust, that his muscles ached from carrying Dee for several blocks.

However, Dee’s breathing was all that mattered.

In, out.

In, out.

A hand gently touched Achilles’ shoulder, and he looked up to see Henry, whose usual bright and diverse clothing was muted with a layer of white-and-gray dust. “Do either of you need first aid?” he asked gently.

“No. I think he’s just… drained.”

“And you?” Henry looked skeptical about Achilles’ condition.

“Fine. Henry, do you know…. How many did we lose?”

Henry’s expression turned grave. “Mazur. Lewis.” He glanced across the parking lot. “Cruz is… not good. But his ibbur is trying hard, I think.”

Ibbur. Gods, in all the confusion and terror, Achilles had forgotten about that. “Santiago?” he ventured, very quietly.

Been here the whole time, dude.

That made sense. The final zap from Spurling had been stronger than any Achilles had felt before, but he’d recovered fairly quickly. “I’m sorry I dragged you through this mess. You gave your life already—and once should be enough.”

I’m here willingly. Just like everyone else.

Henry nodded as if he’d heard Santiago. Maybe he had; Achilles wasn’t sure exactly what talents the house spirit possessed. With another gentle shoulder tap, Henry hurried away to help someone else.

Achilles was left with Dee, Santiago, and a lot of regrets. “I fucked up. We had them right there in front of us, and?—”

We all fucked up. We thought it would be easy and we were wrong. Besides, I thought you were going to cut out the hubris crap.

Right. Achilles sighed and smoothed hair back from Dee’s forehead.

He wished he had a damn cloth to wipe the debris from Dee’s face.

But he’d already used up all his wishes.

He did something dumb instead: he hummed a song.

He didn’t know the name of it—if it even had one—and if it had words, he’d never learned them.

But his mother used to hum that tune while she worked, and sometimes his father would join in.

He hadn’t thought about it in years, but it soothed him now, and he hoped it soothed Dee as well.

Achilles noticed that Dee’s breaths perfectly matched the song’s rhythm.

In, out.

In, out.

We’re not perfect, but we’re badass, man. Look what we’ve been through. Some of you are still kicking, and the rest of us, well, we’re here too.

“Maybe we’re all just phenomenally stubborn.”

I’m good with that.

In, out.

In, out.

You know what, though? Those assholes who attacked us, they probably think everyone’s dead now. I bet they figure that when they destroyed HQ, they destroyed us too.

“Maybe. But if you think I’m going to spend the rest of my life in hiding, I won’t.”

Good.

Achilles started to scratch his beard, realized it made bits of debris fall onto Dee, and stopped.

He was tired and was tempted to lie down next to Dee, but the pavement was hard, and sleeping wouldn’t improve the situation they were all in.

Besides, the neighborhood sounded like a war zone.

From what he could glean from bits of conversations, the enemy had hit HQ with a drone attack, and they’d damaged the surrounding neighborhood too.

Emergency personnel were still assessing civilian casualties, but someone within the federal government had already informed the media that this was a terrorist attack committed by people who were in the country illegally.

In, out.

In, out.

“Okay, Santiago. Their wrong assumption about our demise gives us a potential advantage. How do we use that?”

Beats me. I never was a strategist.

“Me either. I’m just hired muscle.”

Naw. Muscle’s a dime a dozen. Townsend recruited you because you had something important to add. Just like the rest of us. Every damn one of us makes a contribution somehow.

Achilles considered this. “Maybe he was wrong about me. Maybe he was wrong about a lot of things. He’s not helping a whole lot right now, is he?” He waved toward Charles, who was still talking to first responders—a task that could undoubtedly be managed without being possessed by Townsend.

He was right about your man Dee, right?

“Well, yeah. Dee’s incredible. Jesus, even after he’d granted huge wishes, he managed to blow a hole in the wall so we could escape.”

With your help. You made the wish.

“Yeah, but?—”

“You empower me.” Dee didn’t open his eyes until after he spoke, and when he did, he stared right at Achilles.

“You need to rest,” Achilles scolded, although he was secretly rejoicing that Dee seemed to be recovering.

“Don’t need rest. Need you .” Dee reached up, his hand shaky, and grabbed Achilles’ arm. “My master gives me strength.”

Think about it, dude. You guys screw, he’s superman. Super-djinn.

Achilles scoffed. “I don’t have a magic penis.”

Worked when you kissed too. Or when you simply touched him. You guys got synergy.

Dee smiled. “Refill my tank, master. We can do more.”

Hearing those words from Dee’s mouth made Achilles almost believe. He wanted to believe. He wanted to be Dee’s support in every way possible.

He looked up and noticed how many agents were offering help of various kinds to their partners.

Maybe they all had synergy of some sort.

Keaton, for example, who’d endured more torture from Spurling than anyone else, was walking hand-in-hand with Owen, and together they were checking on the more severely injured.

Keaton’s empathic gift was probably useful when rendering first aid.

Wait. Empathy. That had been the key to the original plan, but Keaton had quickly been put out of commission. He seemed functional now—but Spurling and his buddies were likely far away, well out of Keaton’s range.

Unless….

Yes! You’re onto something, dude.

“Dee, if I gave you a jumpstart, do you think you’d have another wish in you?”

“Are you going to fuck me right here in the parking lot?” Dee’s eyes sparkled with humor.

“Um, maybe not.” Especially with Santiago inhabiting him. He didn’t want a threesome.

I’m not even into dudes. Santiago seemed amused too.

Achilles bent at the waist and kissed Dee—upside-down, Spider-Man style—before easing out from beneath him. He slipped off his filthy shirt to pillow Dee’s head. “Hang on. Be right back.” And then he ran.

First he found Keaton, who’d just finished some kind of consultation with Isaac regarding Con’s injuries. It looked as if Con would have new scars to add to his extensive collection, but he was awake and alert.

“Keaton, I think I need you. Can you guys go wait near Dee?”

“You’re excited about something,” Keaton said, head cocked slightly. “Hopeful. All right, we’ll meet you there.”

The next stop was Charles, more challenging due to the surrounding cops and firefighters.

For once, Tenrael wasn’t nearby; he and Ish were lurking behind a minivan, maybe hoping nobody would take much notice of them.

The last thing Charles needed was to try to explain an angel and a demon to the LAPD.

Achilles marched up to Charles, hoping he looked at least a little official and authoritative. “Chief? Need you for a few minutes.”

Charles smiled—an expression Achilles had rarely seen on his face—and spoke in a voice that wasn’t his, although it was familiar.

“Is that so, son?” He nodded briskly at the nearest cop.

“I have something to attend to. As you can see, my men and women have things under control here. I recommend you direct your resources elsewhere. You’re needed by others. ”

The cop was an older man who had clearly Seen Some Shit during his tenure. But he took a half step backward. “Just don’t take off, Mr. Grimes. We still got a lot of questions for you.”

“Of course.” Charles pivoted and headed toward Dee.

“Do you know what I have in mind?” Achilles demanded, hurrying to keep up. “Did you know the whole time? ’Cause it would have been nice if you’d shared that info.”

When Charles replied, he sounded young. And British. “We were confident you’d think of something, but we didn’t know details. Your thoughts and actions are your own. Free will and all that rot.”

Achilles might have shared his opinion of this, but Santiago shushed him, and anyway by then they’d reached Dee, Keaton, and Owen. Dee was sitting up, and although he looked awful, he looked considerably less awful than he had fifteen minutes before.

Achilles immediately sat next to him, arm around his back.

“Let’s not waste time. I’m going to do my best to give Dee an energy boost. Then I’m going to wish that Keaton’s reverse empathy is temporarily magnified.

Chief, you’re going to get the whole gang radiating as much hope, joy, love…

you know the drill… as much of that as they can.

Then Keaton, you’re going to blast Spurling and the rest of those fuckers with all your might. ”