The People v. Eleanor Warwick

Eleanor’s arcane power digs in to repair her ragged shoulder.

It eases her pain slightly until a high-powered rifle round strikes the floor inches from her head. The shot casts pieces of wood and ash about as Eleanor flinches violently.

Her concentration shattered, the healing power of her magic quickly disperses. Another shot rings out and blasts another hole into the floor close to her head. The sniper’s strategy is clear: Prevent his target from focusing enough to heal her injury.

It’s a solid plan. Solid, but revealing. The sniper had every chance to kill her. He clearly has other orders.

Using her one good arm, Eleanor crawls away from the opening. More shots. More holes in the remains of the apartment. Confident that escaping the chopper’s view will halt the barrage, she keeps her head down and claws her way to one of the few pieces of cover available. She leaves a trail of smeared blood.

As the wizard disappears, the sniper looks to his partner and shakes his head. “We’ve lost visual. Permission to keep firing.”

“Negative, Raven,” Alpha answers. “Remain in position. Team Two, she’s on you now.”

“Understood, Alpha. We’ll get her.”

With the gunfire halted, Eleanor concentrates on her wound. She grimaces as a flash of searing pain sweeps through her arm. Tissue regenerates and tendons reattach as her magic does its work. Once complete, she rotates her joint, which proves difficult and painful. Still, it’s a vast improvement.

Picking herself up, Eleanor moves to get out of that room. However, no sooner does she turn to find an exit than a small metal canister comes to a clanking stop near her feet.

Recognizing the object, she groans. “Oh, no.”

The flashbang grenade explodes with offensive light and sound. Blinded, Eleanor stumbles backward, covering her ears in a vain attempt to smother the loud ringing. Bumping into the wall, she clumsily spins on it as if it’s an attacker.

Collecting herself, she focuses her magic and drives away the effects of the grenade. Slowly opening her eyes, she’s relieved to have her vision restored.

Eleanor lets out a sigh. It’s just then someone slams the butt of an assault rifle into the side of her head.

Crumbling to the dirty floor, Eleanor stares up at the ceiling, stunned. Within seconds, four rifles point down at her. The leader of Team Two stares at her with an angry sneer. “End of the line, freak.”

“Alpha. We have the target in custody.”

Grey looks up at the damaged building. With a nod, she brings the radio to her lips. “Good to hear, Team Two, but don’t let your guard down. Use caution.”

“Roger that, Alpha.”

Turning to her agents, Grey begins throwing orders. “Ready the sedatives. Call Henderson and make sure they’re ready to receive Warwick. Notify the agency that we have completed both priority objectives. Get the uniforms back here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” various agents answer as they scatter to fulfill their obligations.

Turning back to the building, the agent allows herself a moment to revel in a mission accomplished. She knows she isn’t done yet. Yet, Warwick is the final hurdle to getting back to Troy and Bianca and she has cleared it. She deserves a moment for a sigh of relief.

There’s a sudden thump behind her. Resisting the urge to spin about, she remains still. Her hand slowly drifts to her sidearm. With a sudden, smooth motion, Grey spins around, drawing her Glock.

Before she can point the barrel at anything in particular, a powerful grip seizes her wrist. Another hand finds her throat. The grasp on her neck tightens as she’s lifted off the pavement.

The black eyes glaring at her are so clear and perfect she can see herself in them. She’s surprised to see the fear on her face.

She has stared down all manner of Shadow Side creatures without having such an expression take her face. The angry ferociousness in the guttural growl that escapes her assailant causes a chill to run down her spine.

No question; Jessica Blackwell is a terrifying sight. Black blood is smeared along her neck and up onto her cheek.

Vapors puff out from Jessie’s nose as she snarls in the midnight chill. The hellblood’s grip on her wrist grows tighter and tighter until she grunts in pain and involuntarily drops her pistol. Jessie looks down at Grey’s radio on the pavement. A hard stomp shatters the device.

Grey hangs there helplessly. Jessie could easily kill her with a flick of the wrist. Fortunately, the hellblood hesitates. Finally, after a few moments of staring, Jessie throws her to the street.

Landing with a painful thud, Grey coughs and gasps, trying to recover oxygen. Glancing around, she sees her agents writhing on the ground as well. Blackwell didn’t kill any of them. Rubbing her throat, she watches the hellblood dash into the building with startling speed.

She hears loud shouts and a single gunshot as she imagines the young woman tore through the uniforms assembled in the lobby. She’s heading for Warwick. Team Two isn’t prepared for what’s coming their way.

Wizards are powerful, but they aren’t bulletproof.

Three automatic rifles remain trained on Eleanor as a member of Team Two slips her wrists into thick plastic zip-ties and cinches them up tight. As the officer roughly pulls her to her feet, she considers the numerous ways she could escape them. Most would result in bullets flying. Lots of them.

The men seem on edge and Eleanor has little doubt that if she made the slightest move they don’t like, they’ll be quick to their triggers. When the officer takes her by the arm and leads her across the room, she goes along quietly. She knew ending up jail was always a possibility.

The chopper’s spotlight cascades down upon them again as the group walks across the opening. Squinting against the bright spotlight, Eleanor catches movement in the shadows.

Her eyes widen as a snarling Jessie charges into the light. She can scarcely believe what she sees. The hellblood races toward them, her legs pumping with devilish power and her dark hair streaming behind her.

The leader of Team Two turns toward her just in time to receive a shoe to his chest. The blow knocks the SWAT officer off his feet and hurls him backward.

A hard elbow to the face sends one team member to the floor. Another aims his rifle, but Jessie sweeps the barrel away, sending his bullets into the apartment’s heavily damaged walls. A quick strike shatters his goggles before she shoves him into the final standing gunman.

The officer stumbles back as his unconscious squad mate falls into him. Before he can right himself, the hellblood tackles him, driving him into the floor. Straddling him, she grabs the front of his tactical vest and yanks his upper body toward her as she slams her head into his.

As Jessie rises, the spotlight silhouettes her frame. Her hair tosses wildly. She looks toward Eleanor and her eyes shifted back to their natural hazel. Eleanor only stares at her a moment, temporarily awed by her sudden appearance. Easily slipping out of the zip-ties, she starts to approach her until a loud shot rings out.

Jessie lurches forward, black blood splattering onto the floor. Taking one step toward her, Eleanor slams on the brakes and dives back the way she came. She rolls behind the limited cover just in time to avoid a gunshot that shatters a piece of the wall.

“Alpha! The secondary is down but the primary is back out of sight! Team Two is down! Permission to take the target out? Alpha! Do you copy?”

The pilot and sniper share an aggravated glance as silence answers their request. Switching to their local radios, the operator makes the call himself. “All right, fuck these feds! Shoot the bitch!”

Two more shots rip through Eleanor’s unreliable cover. Covering her head, Eleanor glances around trying to figure out what to do.

Looking through the empty corpse of the domicile, she spots a small, partially caved-in doorway. Beyond, she can barely make out ceramic tile. A bathroom.

Scrambling to her feet, Eleanor runs for the doorway, narrowly avoiding another gunshot. Slipping into the restroom, she quickly finds the cracked mirror on the wall.

Summoning her magic, she rips the glass from the tiles. Pausing at the doorway, she places a spell onto the reflective surface. With a deep breath, she rushes out into the spotlight and holds the mirror up to the chopper.

Bolstered by the magic, the mirror reflects the light at a significantly brighter intensity. The night sky lights up as a luminary beam washes over the helicopter.

The pilot shouts in alarm as he fumbles with his helmet to bring down his protective visor. Even with the lens down, the light is still too bright. The chopper swerves out of the beam and flies away.

Lowering the mirror, Eleanor watched the aircraft retreat with a relieved exhale. She starts when Jessie rushes past her to the edge of the opening and hurls something after the chopper.

“Motherfuckers!”

Eleanor stares as Jessie turns back to her. Brushing off her jacket, Jessie avoids the patch of blood on her chest. “Can you believe this shit? I’ve seen enough of my blood tonight to last a lifetime.”

Without a word, Eleanor tosses the mirror aside and throws her arms around her. Jessie squirms slightly in her embrace. She keeps her arms at her side and groans.

Despite her grumbles, she admits it isn’t all that unpleasant. Warwick smells nice regardless of the ash, dirt, and sweat. Her frizzy curls are soft against her cheek. Without really thinking about it, she allows her head to rest against Warwick’s shoulder. When Warwick releases her, Jessie jumps back, hoping she didn’t notice.

“I’m sorry,” Eleanor says with a voice that suggests otherwise. “I’m touching you. Sorry.”

“Yeah. I hate that,” Jessie answers in a voice that suggests otherwise.

“I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Well, I’m sore as shit, but I feel pretty good. That Penny’s all right when she’s not being a total bitch.”

“That she is,” Eleanor replies with a smile. Looking out of the massive opening, Eleanor catches sight of the chopper circling around. “They’re coming back.”

“That ain’t all,” Jessie responds, looking toward the stairs. Flashlight beams dance about as someone makes their way up the steps.

Eleanor considers the situation before stepping out to the edge of the gap. After a moment of staring at the street below, illuminated by flashing lights, she turns back to her companion. “Do you trust me?”

Jessie cocked an eyebrow. “Uh…sort of.”

With a grin, she offers Jessie a hand. After a hesitation, Jessie takes her offered palm. With a sudden yank, Eleanor pulls her close, throwing an arm around her waist.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hold on.”

“You’re doing enough holding for both of us.”

“Seriously, Jessie. You’d better hold on.”

Jessie scans her face and sees sincerity. With an annoyed sigh, she wraps her arms around Eleanor’s neck. “You are just loving this, aren’t you?”

The smile that crosses her face is enough of an answer. “Don’t worry. I think you’ll enjoy this.”

Tightening her hold on Jessie, Eleanor leans out toward the waiting urban chasm.

Jessie’s eyes widen as she looks down. “Warwick! What the fuck are you- !”

With a deep breath and a surprised shriek from Jessie, Eleanor jumps.

Raven flees down the avenue as the luminous attack from Warwick proves successful.

Grey narrows her eyes at the prospect of the wizard gaining the upper hand but doesn’t have time to dwell on it. Her team picks itself up as she rouses them. “Get up there! We are not losing her! Go!”

As agents dash into the building, Grey stares up at the ninth floor with a grimace. Her second in command steps up beside her. “Ma’am, I…I’m sorry. That she got the drop on us, I mean.”

“Do you see her here?” she asks without sparing him a look.

The agent narrows his eyes, confused. “Uh, no.”

“Then I didn’t stop her either, did I?”

“Um…no, ma’am.”

“Glad that’s settled. Move.”

With a slight nod, the agent pulls his pistol and follows the rest of the team. Grey remains still, patiently waiting for the wizard’s next move. Raven moves back into position and her agents cut off the stairs. Warwick isn’t out of this yet.

When she sees a figure dropping down out of the night sky, it’s moving far too fast for her to identify it. When the figure crashes down onto the roof of her SUV, a shockwave ripples out, spraying glass in all directions. Covering her face, the agent dives to the pavement.

“Holy shit!” Jessie shouts, her ebony and crimson hair covering most of her face. “That was fuckin’ awesome!”

“Told you,” Eleanor answered before jumping from the crushed roof to the street below.

Jessie followed her down. “How’d you do that?”

“It’s all about a proper application of downward force at the right time. Super dangerous.”

“I kinda want to do it again.”

“No way. We need to get out of here before- .”

“Freeze!”

The duo turn to face Grey. The agent cocks her gun and stands firm.

Jessie scoffs. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You really want to die tonight, don’t you?”

She takes a step forward, but Eleanor puts a hand on her arm. “Do you have the stone?” she asks.

Grey doesn’t see the point in lying. “Yes.”

“Then you got what you wanted. Go home before someone ends up dead.”

Without another word, Eleanor turns and runs for the House. Jessie extends both middle fingers toward the agent before following.

Grey glances at her smashed radio, and then to her equally smashed car. She calmly returns her weapon to its holster and runs a tired hand through her hair. There’s no need to run after them. She knows where they’re going.

For a moment, she considers Warwick’s suggestion. Going home sounds nice. Normally that meant heading back to Washington for her next assignment, but this time it means actually going home.

She quickly dismisses the thought. Her objectives are clear. Acquire the Tempus Stone. Take Eleanor Warwick into custody.

She does not leave jobs half done.