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he’d somehow become the leader of the uniforms, gesturing to where Sullivan had been trying to remain unnoticed in the back of the room.
    “He’s with me,” Purvis said. “We let Sullivan do his job, and none of you have to worry about dealing with a little lady who can toss automobiles at you. You got a problem with that?”
    “He’s a murderer,” McKee pointed out.
    “Manslaughter,” Sullivan corrected, speaking for the first time. “And I done served my time. J. Edgar Hoover says I’m reformed .”
    There were no more questions forthcoming. Somebody coughed. Purvis folded his arms and waited until the count of ten. Nobody stood up to leave. “Good. We try to take her alive. My men go in first with Sullivan. The rest hang back outside and get the bystanders out of the way. Nobody shoots unless she goes Active.”
    “Then don’t miss,” Agent Cowley suggested.
    They’d be moving out in a matter of minutes and Sullivan sensed the room was nervous, kind of bouncy and tense. It reminded him a little of the Great War, in those few awful seconds before the whistle blew and they’d jump out of the relative safety of their muddy trenches and run screaming into Maxim gunfire, barbed wire, and the Kaiser’s zombies.
    ***
    Jake Sullivan had gotten the call from Washington two weeks before, telling him to report to Special Agent Melvin Purvis in Chicago. The assignment came at a good time. His regular business as a private dick was floundering, and he had been reduced to pulling the occasional security gig, standing in as muscle during some of the labor strikes. He didn’t like it, but just being special didn’t pay the bills. At least he hadn’t had to hurt anyone. Just his reputation kept the strikers peaceful. Nobody wanted to cross a Heavy, especially one that had served time in Rockville.
    The government jobs barely paid a decent wage, but more importantly, this was the last of the five assignments he had agreed to upon his early release. The warden had appealed to his patriotism when he had transmitted the offer, telling Sullivan that it would be a chance to serve his country again. He had found that amusing, since his only desire at that point was to get out of that hellhole. He’d already served his country once, and had the scars to show for it.
    As had been agreed upon, every single other Magical he had assisted in capturing had been a murderer. Jake still had some principles left.
    And this one was no different, though he had been surprised to find out that he had known her once. Hearing the name of the target, and then the terrible crimes she’d committed had left him stunned. Sullivan still couldn’t picture Delilah as a cold-blooded killer, but people could change a lot in six years. He certainly had.
    ***
    Sullivan sat uncomfortably in the backseat of the Ford as they watched yet another dirigible drift into the station. Purvis and Cowley were in the front seat. It was raining hard, pounding mist from the pavement and creating halos around every street lamp.
    “This should be it,” Cowley said from behind the steering wheel. His Thompson was on the seat next to him and he rhythmically tapped his fingers on the wooden stock.
    “The informant said she would be on the eight-fifteen,” Purvis said, checking his pocket watch. “Must be running late ’cause of the weather.”
    An informant? “So that’s how you found her.” Sullivan wasn’t surprised. He’d been ratted out himself all those years ago. “Figures.”
    “I don’t like this,” Cowley said. “There’s too many people around if she goes Active. It’d be safer to tail her to someplace quiet.”
    “We already talked about this. We can’t risk losing her. She’s supposed to be coming here to do a job for the Torrios. You want somebody like her working for Crazy Lenny?”
    Sullivan just listened. Strategy wasn’t his area. He just did what he was told. Nobody expected a Heavy to be smart, so Jake found life went easier if