"But this Blake character, surely he'll be protected? We've seen some of the things he's let loose on the world ... he won't have left himself open to attack, will he? If he's the puppet master you're suggesting, he'll want to ensure that he can continue holding the strings."
"Maybe, maybe not," Hellboy said. "Depends on how long he thinks all this will take."
"He's been building up to this for years," Liz said. "If what our adviser back at BPRD says is true, the guy's probably nine parts mad. There's no rationality in this, no single sane reason to do what he's doing."
"Dunno," Hellboy said.
"What?"
He shrugged. Sat down. The helicopter juddered briefly, shook to the sound of grinding metal, then flew on. It would soon be giving up the ghost.
"HB, what do you mean, 'dunno'?"
"Well ... " He scratched his goatee and looked anywhere but at Liz. "The guy's wife was killed. His research was trashed, even though it seems it was way ahead of its time. He was accused of murder. He and his sons had to go on the run, hide, disappear from the world. He's trying to restore the earth to its natural order, stop mankind from going down the route it's taken, a route that will destroy the planet soon. Ask any scientist. It's just that Blake has magic as an ally. He has knowledge. He's a genius, and madness and genius sleep well together."
"You almost sound as if you support this maniac."
"Not at all. I'm going to kick his ass. But I can empathize."
"You're a big softie."
Hellboy glared at Liz for a second, then away again. Anyone but you, he thought, but then he shook his head. Things were getting to him. He should loosen up. There was a fight coming — a big one — and he had to be at his best.
"Hey," Liz said.
"Yeah." He smiled at her, aware that Jim Sugg had looked away from their private moment. I'm a lucky man, Hellboy thought. I'm a very lucky man, I have friends, people who care for me. Blake? He has revenge. With nothing but that driving him, madness is inevitable.
"Blake won't be far away," Liz said. "This is his moment. Even if he can't see it, he'll want to be close."
"Not far away at all," Hellboy agreed. "Hey, Hicks, you still see that bird carrying the car?"
"Er ... yeah. But we won't be following it for very much longer. That other giant bird thing we hit did something nasty to the motor. It's overheating, and something's broken in there. I can hear it grinding. I want to take us lower just incase — "
"We fly on," Hellboy said. "I thought helicopters either flew or crashed?"
"Yeah, no gliding in this baby."
"So what's the point in going lower? We fly."
"Whatever you say," Hicks said. He mumbled something else, but Hellboy missed it. Probably a prayer.
* * *
Hicks nursed the Lynx onward, still keeping the bird and the flying car in sight. Hellboy, Liz, and Jim sat in the back, staring from the open door — Hellboy's fist had crushed the jamb so that it would no longer shut — and using the noise as an excuse not to talk. Just as Hellboy noticed he could no longer see land to the south, Hicks called through their headphones, "Oh, screw me."
"What is it?"
"Come see for yourself."
Hellboy climbed into the cockpit again, doing his best to ignore the worsening shuddering of the helicopter. They wouldn't be up for much longer, and —
And there it was. The ship. He'd guessed it would be a ship, but not one like this, not one as big as this.
"It's an old oil tanker," Hicks said. "I just saw that bird dip down into one of those open doors on its deck. Car and all."
I wonder why it took the car, Hellboy thought. I wonder who's in it. "Can you land us on that thing?"
"Are you out of your — ?"
"Hicks." Hellboy stared at the pilot. He gave him the glare. He hated doing it, but sometimes kind words just weren't enough.
"I can land on it," Hicks said. "And yes, you scare me. But all you had to do was say please."
Hellboy laughed briefly and went back into the cabin. "This is it," he said. He clenched his fist, checked his pistol, and wondered why he suddenly felt far from ready.
* * *