Part 17 

	Buttercup sat and shuffled the pictures like cards, laying out 

the winning hand that would bring KISS back under his control.

	The insider.  Even if she lost her nerve and failed to deliver 

Simmons as she promised, the information she had given allowed 

them to create the various other plans that would spring into action if 

she failed.  And what was the cost?  If she failed, she got nothing, they 

paid nothing.  Even if she betrayed them, she could only do minimal 

harm.  She did not know all the plans.

	Shannon.  Sweet Shannon.  Her 'rescuers' doubtlessly thought 

they had foiled his plan.  But all they knew was that crazy Bez had 

kidnapped Shannon for E.V.I.L. and had no idea of the time she had 

been in his tender care.  Even Bez did not know.  Everything had been 

carefully engineered so Shannon was 'saved in the nick of time, before 

Buttercup could get his hands on her'.  Well, he had gotten his hands 

(and other things) on her.  If necessary, he could activate the 

programming and again Simmons was his.

	LadyM.  Master of the Paul Stanley site, the key to regaining 

control of that notable.  And a major figure in the girltalk group, one 

that could easily bring him more tools for his various plans.  After all, 

KISS was just the beginning.  There were other groups, other rock 

stars that needed to be brought under his control.  And no one even 

knew she was missing.  She would be returned, with a suitable cover 

story, before anyone was the wiser.

	He was unsure of what had happened to Calen and that 

Egyptian Bez decoyed.  Bez was being his usual non-informative self.  

No matter.  If Bez got rid of them, it would be worth the cost.  If they 

showed up again and got rid of Bez, he would not have to pay him.

	He loved win-win situations.

	He laid down another image, this one a drawing rather than 

actual picture.  The camera did not capture some things well.  A very 

nasty little surprise for the West Virginian.  She would regret leaving 

her nice safe home.  Her special tricks were useless against something 

that knew them all and had an answer to them all.  He would enjoy 

playing with another of her kind.

	He smiled as he set another picture on the table.  Something to 

occupy the reporter traveling with the band.

	He set two more pictures on the table.  His aces in the hole.  

One showed a handsome man, the other a stunning woman; both with 

a degree of commonality that labeled them related.  Dastardly 

Daffodil, his own special Wonder Twins.  Dastardly to gain control of 

some of the so-convenient pawns gathering.  The seductive male twin 

would pick the best choices from this girltalk group gathering, and use 

them to penetrate the security around the band.  And darling Daffodil 

would seduce her way close to the band members he did not already 

have pawns for.

	So many possibly entryways, not even counting just the usual 

snatch like he had just been notified of going down with Criss.  Layers 

upon layers.  Gifts that were more than gifts.  Fans that were more than 

fans.  And stage gear that was very special.

	He paused, two pictures in his hand.  Two cards that had not 

been played.

	He dropped the one picture to the side.  Lorie.  She could have 

gotten him to Bruce Kulick.  He had back-up plans, but he hated when 

something did not work as expected.

	He held the last picture, the source of his discontent.

	Raven.  Perhaps a means to have another chance to break Peter 

Criss.  It would have been so easy: pick up the three women at the 

same time and cover it with Bez, but all he got was Shannon.

	He looked at the last picture and frowned.  She was certainly 

not anything like that Egyptian sorceress or the actress with 

connections that could give him trouble. Or even the part-Sidhe with 

her little tricks.  His inside informant had given him the means to 

identify all the possible trouble spots and devise a method to nullify 

them.  He had covered everything, triple-checked it, and knew there 

would be no surprises.

	But there had been one.

	Why DID Bez refuse to kidnap Raven?  The twerp had 

accepted the three pictures and left, only to return five minutes later 

and return the last two.  " I will kidnap Shannon, but I will not chance 

that one."

	Buttercup had held up a picture in each hand.  " Which one?"

	Bez pointed at Raven's picture.  " That one.  I will chance 

many things but I will not meddle with that."  And then he had 

disappeared.

	He looked at the picture.  A college professor, single, still 

living at home with her parents at the age of 44 for crying out loud.  

What could be special about her?

	He picked up the folder.  Yes, Raven had to have one of the 

strangest families this side of the Addams.  Father seventh son of a 

seventh son.  Cherokee blood from both sides of the family.  A mix of 

relatives that ranged from actual witches to Mormons to Christians to 

Catholics to Jehovah Witnesses and a few beliefs he had never heard 

of.  Preachers to Air Force colonels to moonshine runners and militia.  

A history of occult involvement going back at least six generations.

	But a strange background was no reason to expect anything 

strange from the woman herself.  So he had sent some of his own 

people to intercept her before she reached Shannon.

	He wished he knew why she had never shown.  They had a 

description of the vehicle she would be driving, but none of the 

watchers had spotted it, not even enroute to the hotel.  Oh well, now 

that the ladies were gathering in one place, it would be easy to grab 

any that showed promise of being useful.



	" James, explain to me again why we're undercover at the last 

KISS concert."

	The tanned man smiled.  " Arte, would you rather be in DC?"

	Artemus shuddered.  " No thank you.  I didn't mind the last 

administration.  It was kind of fun, checking out interns for the 

President.  This new guy."  He shook his head.  " Real stick-in-the-

mud.  And how many times has he gotten lost in the White House?"

	" I think they lost count."  James leaned on the sound 

equipment they were guarding.  " You think Bez will show up?"

	" Oh, he's here already.  I can feel it in my bones," Artemus 

said with feeling.  "What is it with our families?  It's like a curse, we 

always end up fighting some powerful little guy under four foot tall 

that's trying to take over the world or destroy the country or do 

something catastrophic.  The first James and Artemus had to deal with 

Miguelito.  We've got Bez.  Our mothers had that Russian dwarf."

	" Don't mention that Russian!"  James gave his partner a nasty 

look.  " I made the mistake of mentioning him last time I was home 

and my mother about slapped my face off."

	" Those files are still sealed aren't they?" Artemus asked with 

interest.

	James nodded.  " Why don't you ask your mother about…"

	" Oh no!" Artemus answered.  " My mother threatened to test 

out one of her new chemical concoctions on me if I ever breathed that 

name in her presence."

	James grinned.  " And you don't need help blowing up labs."

	" That wasn't my fault!" Artemus protested.  " You're the one 

let the Chinese spy on board."

	" She was cute."

	" You weren't supposed to let her just roam around the boat," 

Artemus complained.  " Couldn't you keep her in your cabin?"

	James shrugged.  " I fell asleep."

	" Too much for you, eh?" Artemus teased.

	" She drugged me."

	" Uh huh."

	" She did," James insisted.

	" Hey!"  The tour manager walked towards the two men.  

"We're ready for the sound equipment.  West!  Gordon!  Get that stuff 

moved in here!"

	Artemus grabbed the controls on the motorized platform and 

carefully guided the equipment towards the stage.  James followed, a 

slight smile on his face.  A Secret Service agent's job was seldom 

boring, but this assignment looked like it had a lot of opportunity.  



	Raven sighed.  There were times she wished she was not a 

weirdness magnet.  All she needed to put the icing on the cake was for 

a ghost to hit her in the back of the head (again).  She had been getting 

weird feelings for a week.  She didn't mind when certain entities hung 

around, she just wished they wouldn't drive her up the wall.

And then there was the trip itself.  Road construction, detours 

every time she turned around, malfunctioning traffic lights.  To start it 

all,  she had missed the turn and ended up closer to Lorie's than 

Shannon's; putting the whole timetable off and of course she was 

running late.  Just call it Indian Time: If you arrive on the correct day 

you're on time.  Her attempt to call Shannon from her cell phone had 

gotten no answer, but she had gotten hold of Lorie who promised to 

warn everyone else along the line and keep trying to get in touch with 

Shannon while Raven tried to find a way around a road blocked by an 

overturned mattress truck.  And it just got stranger from there.

	Yep, if it were normal, you wouldn't find it around her.  

	Maybe she should have cancelled the whole trip.  At least the 

rented van did not give her any trouble.  With the number of 

passengers and luggage making the trip, and the fact her car had a few 

years on it; it just made more sense to use the plastic and get a van to 

make the trip.  (And of course the rental place had to switch that at the 

last minute on her, so no one had known what to watch for.)

	But things had turned out okay despite the last minute 

shuffling.  Lorie had received the strange e-mail telling them to go on 

to New York; Shannon was riding with someone else as was Shandi (It 

wasn't until the second email they learned the truth).  So Lorie was in 

charge of music selection while Raven handled the driving.  Luggage 

got tossed in the back, along with some of the overflow from the other 

vehicles later so no one was lacking for space.  They had met up with 

the others and everything had gone smoothly once they were out of 

Ohio.

	Which just made her more nervous.

	They were now safely at the hotel, awaiting the final concert.  

Which was actually two concerts.  An evening of various tribute bands 

performing, the next day filled with a convention that ended with THE 

FINAL CONCERT, with KISS and all its members performing along 

with various members of the tribute bands.  To give the actual KISS 

members needed breaks, various tribute band members would trade-

off with the actual KISS member from time to time.  Part of the fun 

was supposed to be spotting when and how the trade-off occurred.

	Few of them could have afforded the special tickets if it had 

not been for the radio contest snafu.  The radio contest had been to 

send the winner and his or her friends to the shows, providing the 

special 'All Events' tickets that gave front row seats for both 

performances and passes to the convention.  But the wording on the 

contest had not been specific enough and when Richard had won the 

contest he had named his friends as 'the members of the newsgroup 

KISS_girltalk'.

	Richard made everyone's millennia with that declaration.  

Except for the radio station.  After being warned that they were legally 

bound to that choice, the station had tried to shake some of them loose 

by declaring they had to find their own means of transportation, pay 

for their own rooms (reserved at the band's hotel and very expensive) 

and food, and handle any necessary paperwork on their own.

	The radio station underestimated the ingenuity of KISS fans.

	So every member of the group was now either in the hotel or 

on their way.  The hotel had enjoyed the station's predicament and 

waived their usual limit on people per room and even devised a 'group 

rate' on the room service.

	Raven looked around her room.  She hoped the other girls 

would understand, but if she was going to be dealing with crowds of 

people for several days she had to have her own room she could run 

and hide in when things got a bit too close for comfort.  She saw the 

looks several exchanged and figured they all interpreted it as her trying 

to get a private room so she could lure Peter away.  Yeah, right.  Fat 

chance.  With all the cute little young things that would be around for 

the concerts, Peter sure wouldn't be noticing a 44-year-old college 

professor.  Especially not one running around in jeans, T-shirt, and 

moccasin boots.  Several had dropped hints, willing to help; but Raven 

knew her limits and was not going to let them waste their time trying 

to make her look sexy.  She would enjoy the shows, enjoy the 

convention, and take back some nice memories.  She was looking 

forward to meeting all the ladies.  Lorie had been great, all of them 

had, although there was something she could not quite put her finger 

on about Val.  Val affected her a lot like certain haunts had, but she 

was obviously not a ghost.  Perhaps another like herself, descended 

from a family that spent far too much time playing with things they 

shouldn't.

	But she had things unpacked now.  She ought to go down and 

check on where the action was going to be.  Grabbing her key, she 

headed out and for the staircase so conveniently located near her room.  

Why use the elevator when the stairs were right here?  And she needed 

to know where they led in case of emergency.  There were always 

emergencies.



	" You made this so easy for us," the man gloated.

	Peter felt like kicking himself.  Blast Eric!  He had sneaked out 

to check on something for the G.O.O.D. agent and was sneaking back 

up to his room using a back stairway.  And now he was facing an 

E.V.I.L. goon with a gun with another lurking somewhere below.  

	" Buttercup will love seeing you," the man said with a grin.  He 

tossed a pair of handcuffs at Peter's feet.  " Put these on."

	" How are you going to get me out of the hotel without anyone 

seeing me?" Peter asked, stalling.  He had already hit the panic button 

on the tracker Eric gave him.  If he could delay the man long enough, 

perhaps Eric would come to the rescue.

	" Who says we're leaving the hotel?" the man asked.  " Put 

them on.  This gun fires knockout darts.  You can either go under your 

own power or I'll drag you there.  You won't like being drug."

	Peter picked up the cuffs and clicked them onto one wrist.  

Even unconscious, Eric would be able to track him; but he preferred to 

be awake.

	" Come on!"  the man urged.  " I don't have all day."

	Peter clicked the other one closed.



	Raven paused one floor up.  Buttercup?  That crazy second 

email Lorie had received warned about someone called Buttercup.  

She carefully eased down the stairs, grateful for moccasins instead of 

regular shoes.  And grateful for childhood summers spent playing in 

3,000 acres of forest with two guard dogs her only companions rather 

than the more normal past times.  She glanced down the stairwell, 

slowly edging down towards the two men.  They would choose to do 

this in the part of the stairs closed off because of service floors.  She 

wanted a glimpse of who the men were.  The one voice was familiar.  

She edged closer and peered over the edge.

	Peter Criss!  No way was she going to stand by and let 

anything happen to Peter!  Blast!  What she wouldn't give for a gun of 

her own right now!  But she didn't have anything but her dull wits.  

And the element of surprise.

	Hmmm.

	If it worked for Modesty Blaise, maybe it'd work for her.

	Peter O'Donnell called it the Nailer in the Modesty Blaise 

mystery stories.  As Raven stripped off her T-shirt and stuffed her bra 

in her jeans pocket she hoped it would be as effective when you were 

dealing with an A cup.  With her luck the guy would think she was a 

boy.

	She gathered the T-shirt in her hands.  Taking a deep breath, 

she brazening bounced down the last flight of steps.

	The E.V.I.L. agent turned at the unexpected sound of footsteps 

close behind him. He frowned.  Where'd the topless lady come from?

	Peter had no idea who the lady was but he was not letting 

E.V.I.L. get its G.R.I.P. on him or anyone else while he could do 

something to prevent it.  He grabbed the thug's gun hand and tried to 

wrestle the weapon away.

	Raven let momentum carry her close and threw her shirt over 

the would-be kidnapper's head.  With the man off-balance and blind, 

Peter held onto one arm while Raven grabbed the other and they 

helped him down the last few steps to the railing at the far end of the 

landing.  And helped him over the railing into the service shaft.

	" SHIT!"  the man screamed, dropping the gun as he frantically 

grabbed for the railing.  He missed that floor's but caught the next.

	" Run!"  Peter grabbed Raven's arm and headed back up the 

stairs.  He knew the dart gun was lost but the thug may have a back-up 

weapon.  And there was a second E.V.I.L. agent somewhere below.

	Raven did not argue.

	Pounding back up the stairs, she led the way back to her room.  

Unlocking the door, she barely waited for Peter to get inside before 

slamming it shut and locking it.

	Peter was gasping for breath.  " Damn."  He plopped down on 

the double bed.

	" And all other expletives," Raven noted.  " I liked that T-

shirt."

	Peter looked at her.  " Just who the hell are you?"

	She answered.  " I go by Raven."

	" Raven.  You're with the girltalk crowd."  Peter chuckled, 

shaking his head.  " I thought we were going to be saving your pretty 

little asses, not you getting me out of the fire."

	Raven headed for her suitcase.

	" Although I might have been able to find out who he was 

working with," Peter mused.  He shook his head.  " I think I prefer just 

getting away."  He noticed a curious lump under the covers of the bed.  

He lifted the bedspread.

	A Peter Criss teddy bear, Love Gun version, smiled up at him.

	" Do you mind?"  Raven grabbed the bedspread and covered 

the bear back up.  She knelt on the bed, bracing herself with her arms 

as she faced him, face just inches from his.  " If you want to do 

something useful, why don't you call security?"

	Peter gave her an apologetic smile.  " Sorry.  Didn't mean to 

pry."

	Raven ducked her head, then raised it and gave him a smile.  

"I'm sorry.  I shouldn't snap at you.  Nerves.  I'm fine until a crisis is 

over, then I have my hysterics.  You live longer that way."

	" Thanks for bailing me out," Peter said.  He raised his 

handcuffed hands and touched her cheek.

	" Damn it Pete!"  Eric Carr stood in the balcony doorway, 

looking at the drummer, in handcuffs, a half naked woman on the bed 

with him.  " I thought you were in trouble.  Did you want a witness for 

your bondage fetish or something?"

	Raven gave Eric a smoldering look before turning back to Peter 

and asking, " Do you want to kill him or shall I?"

	" Raven, meet Eric Carr," Peter introduced.

	" Great, he's already dead."  Raven walked across the room 

and returned to fishing through her luggage for another top.

	" Not exactly."  Eric looked at Peter.

	" Two E.V.I.L. goons on the stairs," Peter explained.  " One 

had a dart gun.  Made me put on the cuffs.  Raven distracted him and 

we pushed him into the shaft beside the stairs.  Last I saw the guy was 

holding onto the railing trying to pull himself back up."

	" You should have stayed and held him hostage until I got 

there," Eric complained.

	" Just because he dropped one gun doesn't mean he didn't have 

another one," Peter pointed out.  " And he had a partner who had gone 

down to check something a few floors down."

	Raven fastened her bra.  " So I take it you're not really dead 

and you're after this E.V.I.L. crowd and you want me to stay quiet."  

She shrugged into another T-shirt.

	" We have something we can bargain with," Peter said with a 

grin.  " She's one of the girltalk crowd and …"  He flipped the 

bedspread down again.

	" Will you leave PC alone?" Raven demanded.

	" PC, eh?" Peter teased.

	Eric reached in a pocket.  " Give me your wrists."  He used an 

electronic lockpik to open the cuffs.  " Or did you want these left on?"

	Peter rubbed his wrists.  " No thanks.  You can keep them."

	Eric looked at Raven.  " They think I'm dead."

	" I can make that true if you want," Raven offered.

	Eric smiled.  " Just stay quiet, keep your eyes open and your 

mouth shut."

	Peter scribbled on the hotel stationary.  " This is the number of 

my cell phone.  You can leave a message.  If you need to meet with 

me, tell me when and where."

	A hint of color touched Raven's cheeks.  " Meet you?"

	" Yeah, in case you notice anything we should know about."  

Peter handed her the number.

	Eric frowned.  " We better get out of here."  He walked to the 

door and cautiously checked the hall.  " It's clear.  I'll make sure you 

get safely back within security."

	" Be careful," Peter warned Raven.  " That goon can identify 

you now."  Peter's gaze flicked down and then back to her face.  

"Don't go out by yourself.  If you feel threatened, I can arrange to 

have you moved up onto our floor."

	" I'll be fine," she assured him.

	Peter smiled.  " Thanks for the rescue."  He gave her a quick 

kiss.  " I like my guardian angels to be female."  He headed out the 

door and was gone.

	Raven slowly sat down on the bed.  It didn't happen.  She 

didn't have Peter Criss in her room.  Eric Carr didn't just suddenly 

come back from the dead.

	She felt cold metal under her hand and looked down.  The 

handcuffs rested on the bedspread.  She clicked them shut and quickly 

stowed them away in her suitcase.  Yes it did happen.  She smiled, 

touching her lips.  She quickly copied the number Peter had left down 

on several other sheets (scrambling the numbers and destroying the 

original copy just in case).  She hid the copies in various parts of the 

room and her luggage, keeping one in her pocket.

	Maybe for once her weirdness magnet was going to do 

something nice for her.



	" Don't trust her," Eric warned.

	" Raven?" Peter asked in surprise.  " She just saved my sanity, 

maybe my life."

	Eric frowned.  " We know Buttercup has someone inside 

girltalk.  That attack could have been a set-up to get you to trust her."

	Peter stopped, letting Eric take three steps past him.  " You're 

crazy."

	Eric turned to face him.  " She just happened to be there when 

you were attacked?  She just happened to, without a weapon, disarm 

an armed E.V.I.L. agent?"

	" With my help," Peter reminded.

	" We don't know her," Eric said.  " And she's got short hair."

	" Not everyone who has short hair is E.V.I.L.," Peter protested.

	" I don't think we can trust her," Eric stated firmly.

	THWACK!

	" Ow."  Eric grabbed the back of his head and turned.

	Empty hallway.

	Eric frowned.  " Someone hit me in the back of the head."

	Peter stepped past him.  " Probably your guilty conscience."

	Eric dropped his hand.  " Just because I think Raven's 

E.V.I.L.?"

	THWACK!

	" Ow!"  Eric glared at the empty hallway before following 

Peter.