The three boys' eyes widened.
"Hmm? Where's the fire?" Junior asked as Stripetail suddenly threw the bag on the table. Diddy looked at it for a moment before his keen intuition-- honed from many adventures with Donkey Kong-- caused him to looked around. He spotted the tv that the resuraunt patrons were all staring at, and the breaking news headline plastered at the bottom screen.
"Gunshots at Mawashi Sumo Stadium," Diddy read softly. Junior, sitting next to him, heard this and leaned in close. "Wait, wasn't that the place we were planning on going to?" Diddy looked at him and saw the koopa was a little spooked.
"Yeah," Diddy muttered back. The two looked back at the group, and the two dinosaurs who looked near ready to assist the wizard.
Usso opened his mouth to ask if he needed to go get his suit, but then closed it. Then he opened it again.
"Do you need me to take you somewhere? My core-block fighter is nearby," Usso said. It would be a little while later, reflecting back on this moment, that he'd realize with some unease that he fell back into his old soldier thought process so comfortably that he had to wonder if it ever truely left him at all.
----
Before Defago the Wendigo could take one step with his massive, hairy feet, a loud gunshot rang out in the lobby and caused the creature to real back in pain, black blood spouting from bullet hole on its throat.
The gunshot didn't come from the two agents, who at this point, despite their composure, were trying hard not to pass out from blood loss. The first thought that came through Rogan's mind was reinforcement from the AMS-- G's first thought was that it was fast-acting Stadium security coming to confront them. Only the wendigo knew immediately who fired the shot, and that was only because of the smell-- the dark, sickly-sweet smell of burned flesh.
A man stood in the hallway leading into the lobby, aiming a very large pistol at the towering antlered creature. He wore a heavy SWAT team flak jacket with the words 'SLCPD' plastered in white on each shoulder strap. Every inch of his body, save for his eyes and fingertips, were wrapped in clean white bandages like a Hollywood mummy. A book was hanging out of one his pockets, as if it had been hastily stored in a big hurry.
The man spoke, and his voice was one of the deepest, most resonate voices any of the three men had ever heard.
"What kind of creature are you?"
The wendgio, confident just a moment ago that his foes were about to be defeated, hesitated at this sudden intrusion. G and Rogan never took their eyes off of the beast, always ready to fire in a milisecond's notice.
The bandaged man didn't seem to appreciate the lack of an answer. He fired another bullet into wendigo, and like the two agents he had remarkable precision. Also, like the agents, his bullets didn't appear to be normal, as the wounds they left on the wendigo bled openly and would not ice over.
"Answer me," he said in a voice that almost seemed to crave that the creature try to test his threat.
The wendigo looked down to the new, openly bleeding wound he recieved. Then, hesuddenly bolted back into the VIP with incredible speed for a thing of its size. All three of the men fired their guns, hitting the creature in the back as it jumped out the broken viewing window that lead to the Sumo arena. There was a sudden blast of air and a screech so loud the three men couldn't help but clap their hands over their ears.
With that, the thing was gone, without a trace.
Silence fell. The temperature started to rise, and the ice slowly began to melt. The sound of the last early stadium goers evacuating the stadium could be heard in the distance.
Rogan collapsed first, and G followed only a few moments afterwards.
The man in the bandages looked at the two fallen men, and without hesitation walked over to aid them. Out of a sachel under his flack jacket, he produced odd looking dried herbs, a water flask, and spare bandages. He began to work on their wounds, knowing full well it was likely in vain at this point but continuing with all the vigor of a doctor who believed he truely had a chance with his patient. As he knelt, the book in his pocket fell out onto floor, one corner landing in a pool of blood. On the front picture of a half-destroyed city nestled in a valley near a lake-- the title read 'The New Canaanitie Bible'. As he worked to try to save the two dying men, he recited a prayer.
