Fallen Gods, page 7
Aaron went past one of the huge wheeled bins and saw a woman in her thirties, well dressed in a business suit. She was giving the workmen an earful for everything they touched. She was well spoken and clearly well educated. She was also pretty with dark curly hair and smooth skin that looked like it never saw sunlight. The woman seemed a little shy, and yet defensive of the artifacts in her care.
“Oh, not again,” she groaned, spotting the two uniformed cops, “We’ve just been allowed back to get this place into some semblance of order and restore dignity. Have you not done enough?”
Aaron held his hands up as if to surrender.
“It’s okay. We aren’t here to cause any trouble. I just want to ask a few questions. I’m Aaron,” he said very informally.
“A few questions? Like the thousand other questions we’ve been asked. We still don’t know anything more. Our cameras were knocked out by the blast. We don’t know who would target us, though the reasons are obvious.”
“Okay, okay. We’re not here to interrogate you. We’re just here to see if we can help, get a fresh pair of eyes on things. Is that okay?”
Luca looked at him wearily, knowing they were not on the case, and that they could get in a lot of trouble for inserting themselves into one.
“Well, okay, just try and stay out of these fellows’ way please. We need to get things back in order, and try and get a sense of just how bad things are.”
“There was a lot of damage, then…?” he asked, as if to wait for her name.
“Oh, sorry, that was rather rude of me. Sorry, I’m just a little on edge, a little daunted by it all. I’m Dr. Grace Harris.”
“What is your job here, Doctor?” Luca asked.
“I’m a research assistant and assistant to the curator.”
“Really, so you must have a good grasp of everything that goes on here. Know a lot about the artifacts?” Aaron asked.
“Are you kidding me? I’ve been studying these works for my entire life. This literally is my life.”
Aaron smiled at her enthusiasm. For it was just the giddy excitement he felt for his obsession for historical swordsmanship.
“Aaron, and this is my partner Luca.”
“Nice to meet you, officers, but I really don’t know how I can help you.”
“Really we are just following up on a few leads. This case is a mystery to the whole department.”
“No kidding. I heard some of the bodies had sword wounds.”
“How would you know that?” Luca asked.
“Come on. It’s my job to know what goes on around here. One of the criminals even still had a sword on his person when they found him. It’s crazy, right?”
“Did you get a look at it?”
“What, the sword?”
“Yes,” said Aaron.
She looked puzzled.
“What kind of questions are these? You’re the cops, right? You have all the evidence.” She was now suspicious of them.
Luca with his quick thinking got in there fast.
“Don’t mind us, but we aren’t detectives. We both study historical swordsmanship, when we are off duty that is. We just heard about this crazy case of swordsmen battling it out in the Met. We couldn’t believe what we were hearing. Thought there must be more to it.”
“I mean it’s weird, right? But this is New York,” she smiled.
Yet it was clear she was unsettled by it, too. Aaron looked grateful for his partner’s quick and sharp save of the situation. He knew they shouldn’t be there, and the last thing they needed was anyone calling the station and linking them with the madness that went on there a few nights before.
“I don’t get it, though. I mean, they had guns, so why did they need swords?” Grace asked in a puzzled tone.
“That’s what we were hoping you could help us with. As my partner said, we’re both keen swordsmen. The idea that anyone would be battling it out with swords for real, well that’s just incredible.”
“People died here,” she said in disgust.
“Yes, and we’re not advocating any of that. We’re just curious. Understanding what happened here could provide some great insight into solving the case. We may not be detectives, but we’re on the street all the time. We hear and see things that a detective doesn’t, particularly with our expertise with blades. We want to better understand what went on and try to help.”
“I wish I could tell you more. But all the evidence has been taken away, including many artifacts that we want back.”
“It seems to me like you got a better look at everything before it was taken away?” Luca asked.
“Yes. All of the staff here were called in to oversee the work by the NYPD. We have invaluable artifacts here, many thousands of them.”
“So, you saw the sword?”
“Briefly, yes. At first, Aaron, I thought it was an artifact from our collection, but then I quickly realized we didn’t have one like it.”
“Why would you think that?”
“It was made of bronze, or it looked like it. I didn’t get to handle it. You know how rare it is to see a bronze sword outside of a museum anymore?”
Aaron was nodding in agreement.
“Not exactly common. Got to be only a few makers across the country, tops.”
“But why? Why would they bring weapons like that to do a crime like this? They must have been highly organized and were well armed. Why a bronze sword? And why were they fighting each other?”
“A last minute disagreement about who gets what?”
Aaron shrugged, knowing more than he was willing to let on, though not nearly as much as he would like.
“Some kind of gang struggle?” Grace asked, but she didn’t sound confident in the idea at all, “No, no, no. We just don’t see that kind of thing here.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Aaron said wearily, thinking about the crazy things they’d seen here.
He’d run it through his mind so many times, but being back at the scene of the violence was a vivid reminder of the visceral display of power they had witnessed. Not only that, but a reminder of how lucky they were to have survived it.
“But, really. I mean, I don’t exactly see a lot of this thing, but criminals with bronze swords. It has to be highly unusual?”
“Yes, Grace, it certainly is,” replied Aaron.
“Probably just some kind of gang symbol or something?”
There was uncertainty in her voice as if she suspected something far worse and was more than a little concerned.
“Why, what do you think it is?” Aaron asked inquisitively.
“Well, not that I believe myths and legends, but…”
“But what? What is it?”
“There are prophecies about gods coming to Earth and fighting it out here among us, more than a few examples actually. But that blade…”
“What of it?”
“It’s the sort of thing the ancient gods might use, not that we’ve ever seen one. But you know, that’s crazy, none of that stuff is real.”
“What more can you tell us about that?”
“I could speak about it for hours, but nothing that would interest the police.”
“Try us.”
Luca coughed. “Shouldn’t we get back to work?”
Aaron sighed, knowing he was right about that.
“Thanks for your help, Doctor,” said Aaron as they walked away.
“I only wish I could have been more useful.”
“Wait a sec.” Aaron left Luca hanging and went back to the doctor.
Luca couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Grace blushed and smiled before they finished up.
“What was that all about?” Luca asked as they made their way back to the car.
Aaron gave a cheeky smile without replying.
“You just asked her out, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“A date?”
“Why not?”
“Come on, you know the rules.”
“This isn’t our case. We weren’t involved. We met on a private errand.”
“Oh, yeah, investigating a crime scene we fled from.”
They got back to their cruiser to see detectives arriving on the scene.
Aaron acted calmly as they got back in the car to continue.
“Look, that doctor knows something. I don’t know what the hell went on in there, and I don’t know how to explain any of it. When you can’t find the answer through any means you can think of, you look outside the box. Grace has some things to say.”
“She’s a historian, what can she possibly know about this case?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something, maybe nothing, but those guys, you saw their gear. Some of it looked like it had come right out of a movie, but they weren’t kidding around. And being in the Met can’t have been no accident. It’s too high profile, too risky for anyone but big players. There’s something very big going on here that we don’t understand. That woman in there might just have some perspective that could help.”
“She studies old artifacts that are hundreds and thousands of years old. How can that help with anything we’re facing today?”
He laughed. “You kidding me? We survived that night because we do exactly that. We study from books that are older than the United States, and it saved our asses. You can’t deny that.”
* * *
Thanatos stopped in front of an unmarked entrance in a narrow side alley. It was a suspicious looking place that most people would avoid at all costs. But Thanatos showed no fear, or at least not in the face of anything this world could throw at him. There was a doorman standing outside, tall and almost as wide, with a baldhead and an angry expression. He was there to intimidate, but unfortunately for him, Thanatos had no comprehension of such a trait.
“I’m here to fight.”
The doorman looked at him suspiciously.
“You have a card?”
“A what?”
“No card, no entry.”
Three men noisily approached the doorman, clearly recognizing one another.
“All right, boss?” One of them flashed a card.
“Is that what I need to get in?” Thanatos asked.
“Who’s this punk?” The man with the card asked.
He was thin, cocky, and arrogant. His face still bruised from fighting and a mottled face from previous injuries.
“I need a card. Give it to me.”
The man began to laugh, and the others soon joined in, including the doorman.
“This is what you want?” The fighter held out the card before him to taunt him.
Thanatos reached out with lightning speed and grabbed the man’s hand, locking it in midair. The man cried out as he let go of the card.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!” He unzipped his coat and threw it to the floor. He was thin but muscular, with elaborate tattoos covering much of his body. He was fast on his feet and looked like he’d be a nimble fighter.
“I’ve come here to fight for money. I am going through that door. It’s your choice whether you make it in there, too,” replied Thanatos.
“Give me the damn card back or you won’t live long enough to get in there!”
Thanatos slipped the card into the pocket of his trousers before pulling off his coat. Beneath it he wore just his bronze cuirass. The fighter laughed at the sight of it.
“What are you, some kind of gamer geek? Come right from a convention, did you?”
The man came at him with murderous intent as if expecting to knock him out in one. But he swung too wide, and Thanatos timed him with a perfect straight punch. It was far more powerful than any of them had even seen in a heavyweight professional fight. He crumpled to the floor and was out cold, maybe even dead. The two with him backed off, as if not wanting any more of this. Thanatos grabbed his coat and pulled the card out once more.
“He won’t be needing this anymore,” he said to the doorman.
The man’s demeanor had changed completely now. Thanatos levered the steel door open to let him pass. The hulking doorman looked fearful of him now and was certainly not willing to argue any further.
One of the two who had come with their fighter came in after him, without a care for their fallen fighter.
“We haven’t seen you around here before. Are you looking for a fight career?”
“I’m looking to make some money.”
“You hit more guys like that, and you’ll rake it in.”
Thanatos stopped as he reached a staircase that led underground and to an arena below. Cheers rang out as two men fought in a ring surrounded by a couple of hundred spectators crammed in closely. He knew nothing about this world, and yet the setup was vaguely familiar to him. He looked back to the man who had followed him in. He was a little overweight with long greasy hair and a short scruffy beard. He made an attempt to dress well, yet still managed to look scruffy and stank of cheap tobacco, a smell that Thanatos was not at all accustomed to.
“You know this world? You know how to make money?”
“Damn right, I do.”
“I fight. You make me money.”
“Sure, fifty-fifty split, we’ll make a killing together, you and me.”
“You get ten percent if you do this,” replied Thanatos coldly.
“That’s not…” he began.
But Thanatos grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground with ease. He coughed and tried to get a breath in.
“You’ll take ten percent, and you’ll help me get money, do you understand?”
The man nodded in agreement, and Thanatos let him down.
“The name’s Ross,” he said, holding out his hand to shake on it. But Thanatos looked down at the gesture with disgust.
“Let’s do this. I need money, and I need it fast.”
“I can throw you in there, but you’ve got to understand, there are some tough guys out there. You could get hurt real quick. You need to start easy and slow, and work up.”
“I don’t go slow. I want to fight the toughest champion here.”
“You can’t just walk into a fight like that.”
“Watch me.”
Chapter 6
“Officer Miller.”
Grace stepped up to the bar where he was fostering a glass of beer with his shoulders slumped, as if he’d lost hope of her coming. A smile stretched across his face, as he felt invigorated by her arrival. She was well dressed in a slim fitting dress and looked overdressed for the casual bar he’d invited her to. He felt a little bad about that. She wasn’t the sort of woman he’d ever asked out before, and he was kicking himself for not considering that fact.
“I never told you my name was Miller.”
“It was written on your uniform,” she replied shyly.
Aaron shook his head in amazement that he hadn’t thought of that.
“Forgive me. Most people never look at the badge unless they’re trying to report you or get up in your face.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do people not accurately study the things before them?”
He shrugged.
“That’s pretty deep, and I guess most people just don’t care enough to think that much about the things in front of them. I guess the fact you do is why you do your job.”
She clearly thought the whole thing to be quite strange. She was very intelligent and yet socially awkward.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Glass of Bordeaux, please,” she said to the waiter without replying to him.
Clearly, she’d been used to relying on herself for some time.
“So, what were you really doing there today?”
“I’m a police officer. It’s my job.”
“Not today it wasn’t. You had no reason to be at my museum. You weren’t part of the investigation. Why are you really interested in what went on there?”
He smiled. She’d seen right through him, and he had to scramble to find an answer. He knew whatever he gave needed to have at least some element of the truth, or she’d never buy it.
“Look, I told you about what Luca and I do when we’re not at work. We have this massive passion for swords and swordsmanship. These are lost arts we are recreating, and the prospect that these guys were battling it out with swords instead of firearms. It just raises so many questions. So, no we’re not on the case, and we don’t really have anything to add to it. But I’m fascinated to know and understand what went on there. I’ve studied the history of swordsmanship for decades. If we’re seeing some kind of resurgence, no matter how niche in some grimy crime-ridden underworld, I want to know about it.”
“I think you’re over thinking this a little. I don’t think this was some kind of sword cult fighting it out like a Highlander movie.”
“They weren’t just wearing those swords, they were using them.”
“How? How would you know that?”
Aaron had to think fast. It was still fresh on his mind as if it had happened that very same day, but there was no way he should have known that information.
“The crime scene photos. I saw their wounds.”
“But you aren’t on this case?”
“No, but I called by to check in. You know sometimes a beat cop can provide insight to detectives, and a different perspective. Some of them won’t let you near their work, but others are grateful for a fresh set of eyes every once in a while.”
“So, you’re telling me that whoever these people were, they broke into the Met with explosives and carrying military grade firearms, and then proceeded to battle it out with swords?”
“It sounds crazy, I know, but that’s what the evidence says.”
“But why? It doesn’t just sound crazy. It’s unfathomable. Do you have any idea how mad that sounds? I know you must see some incredible things in your line of work, but I’m sure you’ve never encountered anything like this.”
“I know, and I’m trying to wrap my head around it, too. Did you know some of those bodies were wearing armor, too?”
“I had heard it said, but not seen it with my own eyes.”
“A cuirass blackened so it blended in with their clothing, but it was made of a metal. Maybe even something similar to bronze, like the swords.”
“Oh, not again,” she groaned, spotting the two uniformed cops, “We’ve just been allowed back to get this place into some semblance of order and restore dignity. Have you not done enough?”
Aaron held his hands up as if to surrender.
“It’s okay. We aren’t here to cause any trouble. I just want to ask a few questions. I’m Aaron,” he said very informally.
“A few questions? Like the thousand other questions we’ve been asked. We still don’t know anything more. Our cameras were knocked out by the blast. We don’t know who would target us, though the reasons are obvious.”
“Okay, okay. We’re not here to interrogate you. We’re just here to see if we can help, get a fresh pair of eyes on things. Is that okay?”
Luca looked at him wearily, knowing they were not on the case, and that they could get in a lot of trouble for inserting themselves into one.
“Well, okay, just try and stay out of these fellows’ way please. We need to get things back in order, and try and get a sense of just how bad things are.”
“There was a lot of damage, then…?” he asked, as if to wait for her name.
“Oh, sorry, that was rather rude of me. Sorry, I’m just a little on edge, a little daunted by it all. I’m Dr. Grace Harris.”
“What is your job here, Doctor?” Luca asked.
“I’m a research assistant and assistant to the curator.”
“Really, so you must have a good grasp of everything that goes on here. Know a lot about the artifacts?” Aaron asked.
“Are you kidding me? I’ve been studying these works for my entire life. This literally is my life.”
Aaron smiled at her enthusiasm. For it was just the giddy excitement he felt for his obsession for historical swordsmanship.
“Aaron, and this is my partner Luca.”
“Nice to meet you, officers, but I really don’t know how I can help you.”
“Really we are just following up on a few leads. This case is a mystery to the whole department.”
“No kidding. I heard some of the bodies had sword wounds.”
“How would you know that?” Luca asked.
“Come on. It’s my job to know what goes on around here. One of the criminals even still had a sword on his person when they found him. It’s crazy, right?”
“Did you get a look at it?”
“What, the sword?”
“Yes,” said Aaron.
She looked puzzled.
“What kind of questions are these? You’re the cops, right? You have all the evidence.” She was now suspicious of them.
Luca with his quick thinking got in there fast.
“Don’t mind us, but we aren’t detectives. We both study historical swordsmanship, when we are off duty that is. We just heard about this crazy case of swordsmen battling it out in the Met. We couldn’t believe what we were hearing. Thought there must be more to it.”
“I mean it’s weird, right? But this is New York,” she smiled.
Yet it was clear she was unsettled by it, too. Aaron looked grateful for his partner’s quick and sharp save of the situation. He knew they shouldn’t be there, and the last thing they needed was anyone calling the station and linking them with the madness that went on there a few nights before.
“I don’t get it, though. I mean, they had guns, so why did they need swords?” Grace asked in a puzzled tone.
“That’s what we were hoping you could help us with. As my partner said, we’re both keen swordsmen. The idea that anyone would be battling it out with swords for real, well that’s just incredible.”
“People died here,” she said in disgust.
“Yes, and we’re not advocating any of that. We’re just curious. Understanding what happened here could provide some great insight into solving the case. We may not be detectives, but we’re on the street all the time. We hear and see things that a detective doesn’t, particularly with our expertise with blades. We want to better understand what went on and try to help.”
“I wish I could tell you more. But all the evidence has been taken away, including many artifacts that we want back.”
“It seems to me like you got a better look at everything before it was taken away?” Luca asked.
“Yes. All of the staff here were called in to oversee the work by the NYPD. We have invaluable artifacts here, many thousands of them.”
“So, you saw the sword?”
“Briefly, yes. At first, Aaron, I thought it was an artifact from our collection, but then I quickly realized we didn’t have one like it.”
“Why would you think that?”
“It was made of bronze, or it looked like it. I didn’t get to handle it. You know how rare it is to see a bronze sword outside of a museum anymore?”
Aaron was nodding in agreement.
“Not exactly common. Got to be only a few makers across the country, tops.”
“But why? Why would they bring weapons like that to do a crime like this? They must have been highly organized and were well armed. Why a bronze sword? And why were they fighting each other?”
“A last minute disagreement about who gets what?”
Aaron shrugged, knowing more than he was willing to let on, though not nearly as much as he would like.
“Some kind of gang struggle?” Grace asked, but she didn’t sound confident in the idea at all, “No, no, no. We just don’t see that kind of thing here.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Aaron said wearily, thinking about the crazy things they’d seen here.
He’d run it through his mind so many times, but being back at the scene of the violence was a vivid reminder of the visceral display of power they had witnessed. Not only that, but a reminder of how lucky they were to have survived it.
“But, really. I mean, I don’t exactly see a lot of this thing, but criminals with bronze swords. It has to be highly unusual?”
“Yes, Grace, it certainly is,” replied Aaron.
“Probably just some kind of gang symbol or something?”
There was uncertainty in her voice as if she suspected something far worse and was more than a little concerned.
“Why, what do you think it is?” Aaron asked inquisitively.
“Well, not that I believe myths and legends, but…”
“But what? What is it?”
“There are prophecies about gods coming to Earth and fighting it out here among us, more than a few examples actually. But that blade…”
“What of it?”
“It’s the sort of thing the ancient gods might use, not that we’ve ever seen one. But you know, that’s crazy, none of that stuff is real.”
“What more can you tell us about that?”
“I could speak about it for hours, but nothing that would interest the police.”
“Try us.”
Luca coughed. “Shouldn’t we get back to work?”
Aaron sighed, knowing he was right about that.
“Thanks for your help, Doctor,” said Aaron as they walked away.
“I only wish I could have been more useful.”
“Wait a sec.” Aaron left Luca hanging and went back to the doctor.
Luca couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Grace blushed and smiled before they finished up.
“What was that all about?” Luca asked as they made their way back to the car.
Aaron gave a cheeky smile without replying.
“You just asked her out, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“A date?”
“Why not?”
“Come on, you know the rules.”
“This isn’t our case. We weren’t involved. We met on a private errand.”
“Oh, yeah, investigating a crime scene we fled from.”
They got back to their cruiser to see detectives arriving on the scene.
Aaron acted calmly as they got back in the car to continue.
“Look, that doctor knows something. I don’t know what the hell went on in there, and I don’t know how to explain any of it. When you can’t find the answer through any means you can think of, you look outside the box. Grace has some things to say.”
“She’s a historian, what can she possibly know about this case?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something, maybe nothing, but those guys, you saw their gear. Some of it looked like it had come right out of a movie, but they weren’t kidding around. And being in the Met can’t have been no accident. It’s too high profile, too risky for anyone but big players. There’s something very big going on here that we don’t understand. That woman in there might just have some perspective that could help.”
“She studies old artifacts that are hundreds and thousands of years old. How can that help with anything we’re facing today?”
He laughed. “You kidding me? We survived that night because we do exactly that. We study from books that are older than the United States, and it saved our asses. You can’t deny that.”
* * *
Thanatos stopped in front of an unmarked entrance in a narrow side alley. It was a suspicious looking place that most people would avoid at all costs. But Thanatos showed no fear, or at least not in the face of anything this world could throw at him. There was a doorman standing outside, tall and almost as wide, with a baldhead and an angry expression. He was there to intimidate, but unfortunately for him, Thanatos had no comprehension of such a trait.
“I’m here to fight.”
The doorman looked at him suspiciously.
“You have a card?”
“A what?”
“No card, no entry.”
Three men noisily approached the doorman, clearly recognizing one another.
“All right, boss?” One of them flashed a card.
“Is that what I need to get in?” Thanatos asked.
“Who’s this punk?” The man with the card asked.
He was thin, cocky, and arrogant. His face still bruised from fighting and a mottled face from previous injuries.
“I need a card. Give it to me.”
The man began to laugh, and the others soon joined in, including the doorman.
“This is what you want?” The fighter held out the card before him to taunt him.
Thanatos reached out with lightning speed and grabbed the man’s hand, locking it in midair. The man cried out as he let go of the card.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!” He unzipped his coat and threw it to the floor. He was thin but muscular, with elaborate tattoos covering much of his body. He was fast on his feet and looked like he’d be a nimble fighter.
“I’ve come here to fight for money. I am going through that door. It’s your choice whether you make it in there, too,” replied Thanatos.
“Give me the damn card back or you won’t live long enough to get in there!”
Thanatos slipped the card into the pocket of his trousers before pulling off his coat. Beneath it he wore just his bronze cuirass. The fighter laughed at the sight of it.
“What are you, some kind of gamer geek? Come right from a convention, did you?”
The man came at him with murderous intent as if expecting to knock him out in one. But he swung too wide, and Thanatos timed him with a perfect straight punch. It was far more powerful than any of them had even seen in a heavyweight professional fight. He crumpled to the floor and was out cold, maybe even dead. The two with him backed off, as if not wanting any more of this. Thanatos grabbed his coat and pulled the card out once more.
“He won’t be needing this anymore,” he said to the doorman.
The man’s demeanor had changed completely now. Thanatos levered the steel door open to let him pass. The hulking doorman looked fearful of him now and was certainly not willing to argue any further.
One of the two who had come with their fighter came in after him, without a care for their fallen fighter.
“We haven’t seen you around here before. Are you looking for a fight career?”
“I’m looking to make some money.”
“You hit more guys like that, and you’ll rake it in.”
Thanatos stopped as he reached a staircase that led underground and to an arena below. Cheers rang out as two men fought in a ring surrounded by a couple of hundred spectators crammed in closely. He knew nothing about this world, and yet the setup was vaguely familiar to him. He looked back to the man who had followed him in. He was a little overweight with long greasy hair and a short scruffy beard. He made an attempt to dress well, yet still managed to look scruffy and stank of cheap tobacco, a smell that Thanatos was not at all accustomed to.
“You know this world? You know how to make money?”
“Damn right, I do.”
“I fight. You make me money.”
“Sure, fifty-fifty split, we’ll make a killing together, you and me.”
“You get ten percent if you do this,” replied Thanatos coldly.
“That’s not…” he began.
But Thanatos grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground with ease. He coughed and tried to get a breath in.
“You’ll take ten percent, and you’ll help me get money, do you understand?”
The man nodded in agreement, and Thanatos let him down.
“The name’s Ross,” he said, holding out his hand to shake on it. But Thanatos looked down at the gesture with disgust.
“Let’s do this. I need money, and I need it fast.”
“I can throw you in there, but you’ve got to understand, there are some tough guys out there. You could get hurt real quick. You need to start easy and slow, and work up.”
“I don’t go slow. I want to fight the toughest champion here.”
“You can’t just walk into a fight like that.”
“Watch me.”
Chapter 6
“Officer Miller.”
Grace stepped up to the bar where he was fostering a glass of beer with his shoulders slumped, as if he’d lost hope of her coming. A smile stretched across his face, as he felt invigorated by her arrival. She was well dressed in a slim fitting dress and looked overdressed for the casual bar he’d invited her to. He felt a little bad about that. She wasn’t the sort of woman he’d ever asked out before, and he was kicking himself for not considering that fact.
“I never told you my name was Miller.”
“It was written on your uniform,” she replied shyly.
Aaron shook his head in amazement that he hadn’t thought of that.
“Forgive me. Most people never look at the badge unless they’re trying to report you or get up in your face.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do people not accurately study the things before them?”
He shrugged.
“That’s pretty deep, and I guess most people just don’t care enough to think that much about the things in front of them. I guess the fact you do is why you do your job.”
She clearly thought the whole thing to be quite strange. She was very intelligent and yet socially awkward.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Glass of Bordeaux, please,” she said to the waiter without replying to him.
Clearly, she’d been used to relying on herself for some time.
“So, what were you really doing there today?”
“I’m a police officer. It’s my job.”
“Not today it wasn’t. You had no reason to be at my museum. You weren’t part of the investigation. Why are you really interested in what went on there?”
He smiled. She’d seen right through him, and he had to scramble to find an answer. He knew whatever he gave needed to have at least some element of the truth, or she’d never buy it.
“Look, I told you about what Luca and I do when we’re not at work. We have this massive passion for swords and swordsmanship. These are lost arts we are recreating, and the prospect that these guys were battling it out with swords instead of firearms. It just raises so many questions. So, no we’re not on the case, and we don’t really have anything to add to it. But I’m fascinated to know and understand what went on there. I’ve studied the history of swordsmanship for decades. If we’re seeing some kind of resurgence, no matter how niche in some grimy crime-ridden underworld, I want to know about it.”
“I think you’re over thinking this a little. I don’t think this was some kind of sword cult fighting it out like a Highlander movie.”
“They weren’t just wearing those swords, they were using them.”
“How? How would you know that?”
Aaron had to think fast. It was still fresh on his mind as if it had happened that very same day, but there was no way he should have known that information.
“The crime scene photos. I saw their wounds.”
“But you aren’t on this case?”
“No, but I called by to check in. You know sometimes a beat cop can provide insight to detectives, and a different perspective. Some of them won’t let you near their work, but others are grateful for a fresh set of eyes every once in a while.”
“So, you’re telling me that whoever these people were, they broke into the Met with explosives and carrying military grade firearms, and then proceeded to battle it out with swords?”
“It sounds crazy, I know, but that’s what the evidence says.”
“But why? It doesn’t just sound crazy. It’s unfathomable. Do you have any idea how mad that sounds? I know you must see some incredible things in your line of work, but I’m sure you’ve never encountered anything like this.”
“I know, and I’m trying to wrap my head around it, too. Did you know some of those bodies were wearing armor, too?”
“I had heard it said, but not seen it with my own eyes.”
“A cuirass blackened so it blended in with their clothing, but it was made of a metal. Maybe even something similar to bronze, like the swords.”
