GARGOYLES: Re-Awakening

Stone Walls: 2

Xanatos was sitting resolutely at his desk, his hands folded, leg crossed, and his eyes set with a steely focus on the stone coat of arms displayed in the center of the room. He was in the great hall of castle Wyvern, a place he had been determined to sit for more than five years.

He was remembering the night he had acquired the piece. The image of a security guard flashed before his eyes, bathed in the dullish-green hew of night vision. His fist landed squarely on the guards jaw and he flew back several feet across the floor. The power of the punch was incredible. A smile crossed Xanatos' lips, both in his remembrance and on his actual face. Owen interrupted his reminisces.

"Pardon me, Mr. Xanatos, but we have a problem."

A rush of not tonight! flashed through Xanatos' mind. Were he someone else he would have slammed his fist on the table, or swept his arm across it, scattering it's contents across the floor. But Xanatos prided himself on his control, always firm, always resolved, never rattled.

"What is it Owen," he asked.

"A detective Maza is here. I of course informed her that you were unavailable, but she threatened to return with a warrant to search the castle," Owen replied.

"That's a bluff, Owen," Xanatos said, not because Owen didn't know that, but as an invitation to tell him what the real problem was.

"Of course, sir. My concern is that she mentioned the coat of arms directly. I felt it pertinent to send her away without further motivation to pry into the matter."

"In other words," Xanatos rose, crossed to Owen and placed his hand on his shoulder, "a bit of charm is in order," he said with a smile. "A prudent thought. Thank you, Owen. Send her in."

Owen left the room and Xanatos stepped back behind his desk. He pressed a small button on the controls to the left of his chair and a panel on the side wall clacked, then slid aside. He picked up the coat of arms and walked with it towards the hidden shelving that contained several weapons, both conventional and laser in type, a large leather-bound book, and a red, mechanical, and very sophisticated looking suit. Before depositing the coat of arms he paused and looked at it, his eyes staring through it, drifting far away. Once again he was back in the night he had acquired it.

The guard he had struck and sent flying across the floor nearly landed on one of the display cases, which would surely have triggered the alarm. It reminded him what a huge risk it was for him to have come here himself, but he felt compelled to see this final piece of the puzzle through personally. Besides, it was an excellent chance to test the suit, the prototype for what he ultimately had in mind.

As if on cue a soft beep sounded in his right ear. His eyepiece flashed a tiny human form in his right peripheral vision. Alongside the red figure were position, speed, and distance. Remarkable, Xanatos thought to himself. He positioned himself next to the entryway and watched the tiny number drop toward zero. When it hit, he pivoted swiftly to his right, dropping to one knee and swinging his arm with technologically enhanced strength directly into the upper thighs of the guard. He'd been jogging, concerned about his partner, and so the impact sent him hurtling head over heals. This time, Xanatos quickly rose and snatched out with his free hand, catching the falling body by the back of the coat collar and then, with a swing of his back leg into a wide pivot, hurtling the man back-first into the wall with a sickening THUD. That one may have gotten a little away from me, Xanatos thought. Sorry about that.

A soft ding pulled him back to the present. Owen and the detective were exiting the elevator just outside. He placed the stone tablet on its stand, pressed a button, and stepped back. The panel slid back into place, resuming its appearance as just another wall of the castle. A moment later the door to the great hall opened and Owen stepped in. The woman with him was younger, and more attractive than Xanatos had expected. She was slender, with dark hair and dark eyes. Native American, Xanatos thought. Part of his sub-conscious filed that away for potential further use.