"All right." Gregg followed the joker into the alleyway. Oddity too had been a puppet, one of the jokers close to him during his years of power. Oddity's great strength and loyalty had aided him numerous times. He told himself there was no reason to be apprehensive, not with Oddity.
"You went immediately to the goddamn enemy."
Gregg peered through Leo Barnett's eye holes into the shadows of the alley. A woman stepped out from under a fire escape, shaking blond hair from under a paisley cap. She was dressed like the night: black jeans, a black sweatshirt on the front of which was lettered in red: THE ROX DIDN'T DIE.
"Ms. Davis ..." Under the mask, Gregg's mouth had dropped open. She knows. How ...? Then it struck him: Jo Ann. She's a member of Father Squid's church. A bug ... The other voice, the one he hated, spoke as welclass="underline" Hey, Greggie, no reason for you to get pissed. The woman's right - you're a slime.
Hannah stood in front of him like a sullen Valkyrie, hands folded under her breasts. She didn't look like she'd slept much in the two days since he'd last seen her. There were dark circles of fatigue under her eyes; her face was drawn and pale. She seemed dangerous, nervous, and there was the unmistakable bulge of a handgun at her right hip. Gregg felt the first beginnings of panic. "Pan Rudo and Brandon van Renssaeler visited you not four hours after I left. Did I make another mistake?" she asked him, cutting off his halting protest.
Tell her, Greggie. Tell her how you're about the worst choice she could have made....
"Have you decided to take Rudo's bribe?" Hannah continued, raging. She came up close to him, though she was very careful not to touch him. The scent of her shampoo wafted around him, contrasting strangely with her fury. "How much, Senator? How much are you charging for your 'consultation'?"
The worst thing is that you know that she's right. You're scared. You're scared of Rudo and the Sharks, and scared because you know Hannah's right. Gregg Hartmann doesn't have the balls to atone for his sins, to do what needs to be done. Not any more....
"Just shut up," he told the voice.
She blinked at him. "Shut up? Shut up?" Hannah backed away a step, giving a mocking laugh of disbelief. "We came to you for help, Senator. I need to know if you've already betrayed us."
Not yet. But you've been thinking about it....
"I don't have to listen to this," Gregg said. He started to turn, but Oddity's hand was on his shoulder. He looked up into the mismatched eyes hidden behind the fencing mask.
"I think you do need to listen, Senator," Patti said, and though her voice was gentle, there was steel in her grip.
"Patti, I don't know how you three got involved in this, but you know me."
"Yes, we do, Senator, and I'm sorry," she said. "We're involved because Father Squid asked me for help. We're protecting Hannah - Quasiman isn't exactly reliable right now."
"She's got a damn gun for protection."
"She's also had people shooting at her. She needs all the help she can get. She needs you." Oddity groaned again, and the hand clenching his shoulder tightened briefly. When Gregg looked at it, the fingers were no longer Patti's, but a black male's. "I've been telling Hannah that she's wrong, that you were just being careful. Evan's told her the same thing, and John's a lawyer - he says you were obliged to talk to the other party. But Hannah - "
Gregg looked back at Hannah, standing with arms crossed as she glared at him. Tell her how after Rudo left, you sat there staring at the box like it was going to bite you, how you kept trying to believe all that crap Rudo fed you.
"John's right," Gregg said to both of them, clutching at the proffered excuse. "You can't expect me to go public with what you gave me without first talking to Rudo. Since you've obviously bugged my office, you also know that I told him what he did was wrong."
Hannah sniffed. Her sneakers scuffed at the dirty pavement. In her eyes, he found only scorn, as if she were contemplating a turd on a tablecloth. "I'm so damned impressed. He told you that he'd been directly responsible for infecting hundreds of jokers with AIDS, and you gave him a tongue-lashing. My, my. I'll bet you'll turn him over your knee if he kills Father Squid or me. Maybe even send him to his room without supper."
She started to turn away from him. Once I could have broken you like a stick, you bitch.... Gregg reached for her. "Listen ..."
Hannah whirled around and slapped his hand aside contemptuously. Reflexively, Gregg raised his hand to strike back. Hannah pushed him and Gregg stumbled, staggering backward. His head slammed into wet, soiled brick. For a moment his vision blurred as interior fireworks splattered and burst against his eyelids.
She looked down at him, sagging against the filthy wall. "I should have known better," she said. "You're a fat, old, powerless man living on memories."
Anger filled him with that, a searing denial that rose from deep inside him. His head roared drowning out the voices and the pain, and the blood-red tsunami battered against unseen, five-year-old walls in his mind, foaming and tearing. A fat, old, powerless man ...
From beneath the fury, something rose. Gregg almost felt dizzy with the presence. He stood, drawing in a deep breath and confronting Hannah's ridicule with sudden honed steel in his voice. He pulled off the Barnett mask and threw it to the ground.
"I won't let you insult me that way," he said. And the words burned. They nearly lit the darkness. "Not after all I've done for the jokers. Over the years, I've nearly died for the wild card: in Syria at the hands of the Nur, in Berlin to terrorist kidnappers, in Atlanta to a crazed joker, during the invasion of the Rox to Herne. Everything I've done has been in the best interests of those infected by this damned virus. You have no right to question my intentions or my methods."
Yes! Gregg's voice had gone resonant and deep, the way he'd sounded when Puppetman filled his speeches with conviction. He felt young, powerful. The words flamed, and Hannah looked suddenly uncertain. Gregg pulled the glove from his right hand and held up the prosthesis in front of her face, turning it so she could not escape the vision. "You want to compare scars, Hannah? Here's one of mine."
Oddity growled wordlessly in the background. Hannah stared at him wide-eyed, as if seeing Gregg for the first time. For a long second, she held his unmasked gaze, then the resistance in her collapsed. "I - " she began, and stopped. She paced to the back of the alley like a caged beast, one hand beating against her thigh. Gregg saw the back of her sweatshirt: IT JUST FADED AWAY.
Gregg wanted to shout, to scream in delight. It was torture to simply stand there. Under his shoes, molded plastic crackled like dry fire.
My God, I thought it was lost and dead, but I've found it again! The power ... And in response: Don't you see, Greggie? It's been returned to you as a gift, a tool to allow you to atone for your sins, a way for you to make up for all the pain and misery you've caused. A gift...
Gregg marveled.
When Hannah came back to him, the bristly defiance was gone from her voice. "Senator ... I ... well, I guess the only thing to say is, I'm sorry." Her hands fluttered up from her sides, fell again.
The apology was so sweet it almost made him grin. Instead, he simply nodded. "I understand. You've been under an enormous amount of pressure. Your apology's accepted, of course. And please, can we drop the formality, since we're on the same side here? I'm Gregg."
"Gregg." She glanced quickly away from him, biting her lower lip. "Umm, did I just make a total ass of myself?"