Irwin gazed at the multitudes of law enforcement agencies that surrounded the grounded plane of flight AA204. From his vantage point inside of the LAX terminal, he could FBI, a few local and state cops, Homeland security, ATF, a team from NSA, and a group he deemed to either be from Secret Service or CIA.
If he was being perfectly honest, he didn't care whatever group they were. In fact, the only thing he cared about was whether Ella will directly kill or torture him once he got back home.
"Yes, I know, Ella. I'm sorry!" he pleaded mercy for the umpteenth time in this hour-long phonecall.
Alas, reinforcements came as he eyed the agents in suits ascending the escalator and moving towards him.
"Look, baby. I gotta go. Cops are here. Just-Ella. Ella. Just let the priest bless the pipes." Irwin gave a weary sigh as he ended the call, raising a finger at the cops. "How can I help you?"
"Mr. Greythorne. This is US Marshall Svielt," The tall, dark-skinned, bald, muscular man pointed at his partner with the aquiline nose and slightly off-kilter eyes. "And I'm Special Agent Marcus DeWalt. I have just informed that you were on both levels of the planes when the hi-jacking happened?"
"Yes, I was," He replied, remaining seated as the two agents crowd him. "I've already done this with the other federal agent. Is something the matter, gentlemen?"
"Yes. Normally, we would have sent you away given Congressman Brown's and, uh, the flight attendant's testimony. But we found this, "Marshall Svielt produced a smooth black briefcase and opened it, revealing the custom-made Colt M1911 pistol, three .45 ACP magazines, and two suspicious leather bags tied with a rotten twine. "Do you confirm that this belongs to you?"
"Yes, I've been looking for that." He responded immediately. He secretly sighed in relief, for he had completely forgotten to retrieve his items after his defeat of the baby ghost.
Marshal Svielt closed the case and placed it atop Irwin's other luggage. "Mr. Greythorne, we would just like to confirm your story. You said that the hijackers were in three men and one woman?"
●●●4 ½ Hours Earlier●●●
Gordon grunted as he placed the body of the dead possessed at the back of the plane, blood dripping from his sleeves. He nodded towards the incoming Dante as he, too, was dragging the last of the body.
"Good job." Irwin congratulated, seated on the least burnt seat in the economy class cabin.
"So, we're just... framing them?" Asked Mary, biting her fingers to calm herself. "Isn't that, you know, horrible? These people have lives. Their relatives are gonna think that they were horrible people."
"Yes, and yes. But we don't have any choice." Irwin argued, "If we don't create a plausible reason, however improbable, the investigators will dig deep into the matter."
"So, we're just banking on them, not doing their job properly?" Asked Dante, not entirely sure that the government would just gloss over eight dead passengers, one dead flight attendant and two dead pilots.
"Well, that's what my money and that fucker with the hooker come in handy." Irwin smirked. 'Having to blackmail a sitting congressman sure is great. I wonder why people don't do it so often.'
As Gordon finished his water bottle, crumpling it up and throwing it at the bodies, he could not help but ask the elephant in the room. "I don't see a lick of white skin in that frame job, Richard."
"Because Bin Laden still hasn't been killed yet." His answer caused confusion in the crowd.
"What's that gotta do with it?" Dante asked.
"Islamophobia."
"Islamophobia?" Gordon was still confused.
"That and just general xenophobia. As long as they see brown and black, most of America won't dig too deeply." Irwin said as the crowd now understood that most of his framing plan was banking on racism. "But, hey, it's not like I like the plan. I'm brown, too!"
"In what country? You light-skinned fuck!" Gordon rolled his eyes, waving off Irwin's reasons.
"Hey, my grandmother was from Persia!"
"But why do we need to do that to Kasy?" Mary interrupted, asking about her friend.
"That. Well, we needed an inside man- woman, in this case-" Irwin explained. Unfortunately, his flaming whip had thrown the poor woman off and had hit her head when she landed. She died right away. "Mary, you're going to have to tell the investigators that she opened the cockpit and led the others to kill the pilots."
"I-I can do that." She tried to calm her breath. "Do you think we could get away with this?"
●●●●●●
"Yes." Irwin replied, hollowed eyes gazing at the plane outside of the airport. "Four of them. The stewardess let them in the cockpit and they began killing and smashing people."
"And you killed them?" Agent DeWalt asked.
"Not just me. There was the other flight attendant and Gordon, my friend." He replied, including the others as they had previously discussed.
"I see." DeWalt nodded at Svielt. "One of our headaches is where did they get the accelerant to melt that seats? It seemed so contained and, at the same time, so unrestrained. It's a mystery. Do you happen to know?"
"Beats me. I just saw them carrying this awful-smelling jar, and I tried to throw it away." Neither Irwin nor his accomplices had a good idea on how to explain the fire that spread across the economy class cabin. So, he figured that they would just let the investigators scratch their heads with that one. "Look, why are you talking to me about this again? Didn't you speak with Sherman about this?"
●●●3 Hours Earlier●●●
"-chard, Richard, wake up."A velvety voice brought forth from high heaven woke Irwin up from his nightmares, his eyes opening up to the view of a worry-filled Allison Monroe. "Hey, good morning, hero!"
"H-hey, babe. What-" An enormous yawn interrupted the words coming out of his mouth, "Sorry. What happened? Did we land?"
"Not yet, soon though. The congressman just wanted to speak with you." She moved away, revealing the startled form of Congressman Brown. "I-I think he needed someone to explain to him what exactly happened."
"Fuck, alright. I can do that." He rubbed his eyes, letting another yawn. He stood from his comfortable seat and towards the congressman, but not before getting a kiss from Allison. "What's that for?"
"For saving us." She replied, flushed from the juvenile act.
"I guess that made the exhaustion and pain all worth it, then." He teased, further intensifying the blush on her face.
She scoffed and pushed him towards the politician, who had already noticed that Irwin had roused from his slumber.
"Mr. Greythorne, I presume?" Congressman Brown held out his hand, a nervous smile plastered on his face as sweat still drifted from the side of his face. "I'd like to express my gratitude in saving me from that 'hear attack'"
"Ah, yes. Of course, that 'heart attack', although terrifying, was an abnormal incident to a man in your position," Irwin replied, shaking the man's hand. "I have to say, most people in your position would find it hard to believe such cases exist. You're doing pretty good."
"Well, uh, I'm just trying my best. I'm still reeling from it, to be honest," Brown replied absentmindedly. "Anyway, I'm just here to gain some clarification. Would it be alright if we talk in private?"
"Of course." Irwin told Allison to head upstairs. She did so, leaving just the two of them in the First-Class Cabin.
"Want a drink, Richard? I can call you Richard, right?" Congressman Brown sat down, a glass full of whiskey in both his hands.
"No, thank you. And yes, you can, if I can call you Sherman." He smiled, spreading his arms across the seat's shoulders.
"More for me, then," Congressman Brown shrugged. "Yes, you can. So ghosts, huh? Any other-"
"Do you really wanna know, Sherman?" Irwin preempted, closing his eyes to lighten the headache coming out of his left eye. "There are things out there... things that won't wait for you to run out of air... things that will kill you without rhyme or reason..."
"Monsters." Sherman finished sotto voce.
Irwin gazed at the politician and could see hints of contemplation and greed in his eyes. He had feared this scenario, whereupon a man with great mean knowing of the hidden side of their world.
There was an episode of the original television show where a federal agent ran a website that caters to monsters around the country, killing civilians for money. If that man could do something like that for years, what could a congressman do with his powers?
As if deciding upon something, Sherman looked resolutely towards Irwin. "Richard. This monsters, you fight them?"
"We hunt them. Gordon and I." Irwin replied, not sure where the congressman was going with his line of questioning.
"I assume that most of them are living off conning people? You're situation- being wealthy, that is- is unusual for normal hunters?"
"Yeah, most American hunters are rednecks. Living off the land and drunk people." He replied.
"So they do it for pittance and chump change? What for? Altruism?"
"Revenge. Bloodthirsty vengeance on the people that killed their loved ones." He explained, now fully awake and gazing deep within the politician's eyes. He aroused his magik, or what' left of it for the time being. "See, most of them learn my world for vengeance. Few do it to save people. There are others who do it because they can't kill humans."
"Then, tell me, Richard, if they can do this everyday when they're broke," Sherman went to his point as both men locked in each other's gaze. "What more can they do with the government's support?"