The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 112: Chanter on the Roof

 

Chapter 112: Chanter on the Roof

Newt and the angel were making exceptional time.

 

                It helps to have a Hype Man, like Gary...

 

                In an hour's time, they were ushered out, and the door locked. They regarded each other, and Newt placed some papers into his satchel.

 

                The angel started to raise his goggles and head into the wind. "Well, that was prompt. Like he was expecting us."

 

                "Last minute gift from Ester, I suppose," Newt mused, following him down. "How could he possibly have all we need at the ready, if someone hadn't prepared him. He doesn't even have a phone! A ham radio. Maybe some other means of communication only Gary knows about."

 

                "You understand his lingo more than I do. All those letters baffle me."

 

                "He was talking in Marine speak, to keep it simple for you. Looks like he served with Gary at one point."

 

                "He mentioned not caring for being bothered with things outside his interests. Tell me," the angel turned with genuine curiosity, "What exactly is the E4 Mafia?"

 

Entering the flat was an odd experience for Shadwell on the second round. Crowley had set wards after they left. After he had brought those strange items from "Jinny" into his home, and the others had bounced around ideas, he thought maybe it would be better to err on the side of caution. So, after five minutes of Crowley making weird hand gestures, Shadwell excused himself and went out for a drag.

                The day wasn't particularly menacing. But there was a weird air. Every so often he'd peer into the shadows, thinking he'd seen a movement across the street, but he'd blink and it'd be gone. Once he was done he put out the cigarette, thought better of it, and picked it up to place in the hidden recesses of his jacket. Then he turned with one last squinty-eyed look to the shadows and headed back.

                By the time he came back up, Crowley was nearly done. As the demon finally cracked open the door, Shadwell mentioned that they might be under watch. Crowley took his concerns seriously with a sharp nod, and they edged into the room.

                The flat was just as cold and dark as the last time they entered. No one had been here. But they went about their business as if it had.

                Quietly, they searched around, but found no bugs magic, miracle, or conventional. They kept the lights just as they found them, moving from room to room, wordlessly. Shadwell "cased the joint" in his head, which made it easier to see where an enemy might strike. But absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary.

                Finally, Crowley made a sign to him, and he found a window facing out to the street they just came from. Leaning back as far as he could, the older man took post to watch below.

                But even with these precautions, they missed what didn't want to be seen. Because it wasn't in the street and it wasn't in the flat. It was on the roof, and holding something in its well-manicured hands, and started to chant softly...