This picks up where this other tale by Katzushima leaves off. Katzu already had something published by the time I got this "on paper." But you know what? We're all the hero of our own story. :) Not sure how we'll continue this, I may edit and reuse some of this later, but wanted to get something out for Action Monday.
Much as she wouldn't have minded kicking Majors in the ribs herself, Samantha was not about to stand by while the Phoenician leader beat the shit out of him. She strode up behind the man and put her hand on his shoulder. Summoning a bit of elemental power, she deadened his nerves, which rendered his arm useless. As he turned in reaction, he found one of her Colt Pythons pressed against his rib cage.
Samantha leaned in close to the Phoenician and whispered in his ear, "Y'know, I don't think anyone here besides your friends would particularly mind if I made a corpse o'you."
The Phoenician's cohorts started to draw their weapons, but not before a pinstriped figure stepped out of the shadows, guns akimbo.
"Now, now, lads. That'd be a very poor choice of action," Alasdair said affably, letting his pistols provide the menace. The Templar nodded at Sam.
The Phoenician delegate already at the reception came over just as Consigliere Castiglione appeared, a small contingent of Council security personnel close behind him.
"What is the meaning of this?" asked the Italian.
The Phoenician thug spoke first, gesturing at the Golden Way agent. "This woman has stolen something from us."
"I believe you may have misspoken, sir," said Castiglione. "The report I received was that she has stolen from the Council. Therefore, Council Security will investigate the matter. But I thank you for your concern."
The Phoenician delegate fumed, "This is outrageous! The Brotherhood cries for justice!"
"I assure you that justice will be served. Meanwhile, your men have disturbed this gathering, and if they cannot abide in peace I must ask them to leave."
Glancing around, the Phoenician leader assessed the precariousness of his position.
"Very well, Consigliere," he moved out of Samantha's grasp, and turned to her. "You I will not forget." He spat on Majors, who was still on the ground.
With that, the Phoenician glanced at the Golden Way agent, who had been taken into custody by two Council security officers, and stalked out of the Library.
Castiglione glanced an order to the security guards flanking the girl, who frogmarched her towards their offices. Nodding at Samantha, he stalked off. With an amused expression, Alasdair reached down to help Majors get up.
Taking the gesture of help, Majors quipped, "Nice suit, Fairholm. Where'd you pick it up, Couturier Corleone?"
Alasdair pushed his hat toward the back of his head. "Soprano & Sons. I love your cologne. Lynchburg Musk?"
"Touché." Majors turned to Samantha. "Hawthorn, I oughtta string you up. When are you going to learn to follow orders?"
"You're welcome," she said sarcastically. She looked around to find the Golden Way delegation had melted away into the now remixing crowd. "I follow orders, just not yours. Thanks for backing my play, Alasdair."
"Anytime, Sam. Even if it means saving this clown's ass." Alasdair wandered off into the stacks again.
Majors huffed. "I'm not kidding, LoneStar. If you fuck up this mission, you won't see fresh air until Ragnarok."
"Aw, Katzu," she smiled in mock sympathy. "Ragnarok has already started. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an assignment to complete, one you yourself arranged." And with that she walked off in search of Lugosi.
Majors stared at her as she left, fuming. Xander came and stood next him.
"She is so damn aggravating," Majors said. "What does the Eye see in her?"
"Well," said Xander. "She gets results, despite—or maybe because of—the drummer she marches to. And—except Antida, of course—there isn't another person on this planet I'd rather have watching my back."