I closed my eyes and pulled open the doors to surrender myself to the inevitable.
Flashes of light behind my lids. I opened my eyes. Hard to see through the blinding lights and the shouted questions and the spastic clicking of camera shutters.
I blinked a few times before trying to locate a familiar face among all the parasites. The first one I recognized belonged to John Volos. He stood near the front of the room next to fellow mayoral candidate Anton Rebis. Both men smiled broadly, more for the benefit of the cameras than me.
As if in slow motion, I looked down and saw the seal of the city of Babylon inlaid in the marble floor. On it, a proud lion protected the gates to the city. And in my head, I was telling myself to paste a smile on my face.
Morales’s voice echoed inside: Don’t let them see your fear.
“There’s Detective Prospero now.” Eldritch’s voice boomed through the room via a microphone. I blinked and tried to force my feet to not run the other direction.
But then, Gardner was coming forward with her hand extended and a smile on her face.
And all I could think was, He didn’t tell them. Of course he didn’t, my conscience argued in a dry tone. Morales wasn’t a rat.
The next few moments were a blur of handshakes and smiles and pats on the back. Gardner led me to the front of the room, where a podium had been set up. Two large photographs stood on easels—one with my unsmiling picture and the other with Morales looking uncharacteristically serious.
“This is bullshit,” I whispered to Gardner.
“Play nice,” she warned under her breath.
My eyes scanned the room for Morales, but I didn’t see him yet. Part of me wouldn’t put it past him to skip the dog-and-pony show on principle.
John drew my gaze again. I wasn’t sure whether his gesture was congratulatory or an I-told-you-so nod. Regardless, I pressed my lips together and looked away quickly.
The doors to the hall opened again, prompting another round of excitement. The broad-shouldered shape of Drew Morales was backlit by the bright morning sunlight outside. He paused at the threshold like I had, but recovered from his surprise more quickly.
He wore a charcoal-gray suit with the collar of his white dress shirt open at the neck to reveal his muscled neck. Shock hit me upside the head. He looked so at ease in the business attire, but no less lethal despite the buttoned-up formality.
It wasn’t until he limped forward a few steps that I noticed the black cane. On some men, the aid would have signaled weakness. But in Morales’s hand it looked like a weapon.
His eyes snapped toward me. Despite his poker face, I saw a glimmer of relief in his gaze.
At that instant, I knew part of him had expected me to rat on him, too.
I tipped my chin. His expression went from guarded to solemn. A lot passed between us in that look. Relief. Confusion. Respect. Promises. Maybe even a little intimacy, but I didn’t have a lot of experience with that concept.
Soon enough, he was standing next to me. But we didn’t have a chance to talk because suddenly lots of people were jockeying for the mike to take credit for our accomplishments.
First, Interim Mayor Hernandez spoke at length about the courage Morales and I displayed under fire, and how we offered our city hope despite the recent loss of our beloved Mayor Owens.
Soon, but not soon enough for my taste, he surrendered the mike to Eldritch. “The BPD is extremely proud of Detective Prospero, and we offer our sincere thanks to Special Agent Gardner’s MEA task force for their assistance in bringing Scott McQueen to justice.”
Gardner cleared her throat.
Eldritch ignored her censure and continued. “I would also like to offer a sincere apology to Aphrodite Johnson, who was framed by McQueen. She has been cleared of all charges.” He said it in a tone that implied she’d threatened to sue if the public apology wasn’t broadcast all over Babylon’s airwaves.
“And now, I’d like to invite Special Agent Miranda Gardner to the podium.”
Gardner pasted on a polite smile as she joined him. She stepped forward to say something, but Eldritch swooped in to say something else. “She’ll be formally presenting Agent Morales and Detective Prospero with their medals.”
Gardner paused briefly, as if she was considering saying a few words despite the snub. But then she thought better of it and accepted from Eldritch the boxes containing our medals.
“For their dedicated service to the city of Babylon and bravery in the line of fire,” Eldritch said, “we formally present Agent Andrew Javier Morales and Detective Katherine Athena Prospero with the bronze medal of courage.”
Gardner pinned Morales’s medal first, since he held rank. When she leaned in she whispered something to him that made him chuckle. He responded in a low, rumbling tone that had her cracking a big smile. They shook hands and then she moved to me.
Standing before me, Gardner removed the second medal from the box. When she looked up, the smile was gone and a solemn frown took its place. She pinned the medal over my left breast. “You’re a good egg, Prospero,” she whispered. “Keep up the good work.”
“I will, sir,” I replied.
“This is a historic day in Babylon,” Eldritch said. “Detective Prospero is the first Adept to ever receive the medal of courage.”
I froze. It wasn’t until that moment that the weight of receiving the medal hit me. Something resembling pride shivered through me. But then, past Gardner, movement on the front row caught my eye. It was John Volos rising to give me a standing ovation.
I met the twinkle in his gaze with suspicion. That’s when I knew the awards ceremony had been orchestrated by the man who happened to be the city’s first Adept candidate for mayor.
But before I could take that thought too far, the entire room burst into applause. And then there were more flashbulbs and shouted questions from the media. I tried to smile and answer the questions, but the entire thing passed in a blur and I have no idea if my answers made any sense.
Once the furor died down about half an hour later, Volos found me standing alone near a large potted plant, where I’d gone to escape everyone for a moment of privacy.
“Looks like you’re the hero of the hour,” he said.
I looked up and frowned at him. “Nice play.”
He smirked. “That transparent, am I?”
“To me, anyway.”
He raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Why do you insist on thinking the worst of me?”
“Because you keep giving me so many reasons.”