Strange Aeons [Book 1]

16. An Irish, a Mexican and a Russian enter Peppino's [part II]

«Chief?» Banshee suddenly stiffened on her chair. «Jesus wept, guys, I hear his voice in me head. I'm going mad.»

«I wish. Madness is treatable, idiocy eternal.» the voice hissed again.

«How can ye talk in me head?»

«Because I'm at table five having lunch with my family and my wife is a telepath!» growled the voice. The three looked in the not so distant corner of the room, where a family of four was indeed having lunch: a blonde beautiful woman, a brown-haired kid, a blonde girl in a high chair and a seriously pissed Chief.

«How the hell could ye hear us from far there?»

«I have been monitoring you since the moment you sat at the table!»

«So, that's why you wanted to come here to have lunch, today?» Francesca's voice chimed in, with a note of resentment.

«I wanted to try and gather information for myself, not knowing how they could have tried to act. Clearly, I was quite right. But no, I didn't know they'd be here today at this time. Destiny must hate me, a lot. Or maybe it was Divine Intervention who put me there to stop those fools. This time.» Garaham's voice didn't change its ruffled tone, but he was not apologetic.

«It was a perfectly sound solution! Distract everyone with something harmless that would have perfectly been explained with mass hallucination, no fuss no muss.» Banshee defended her idea, standing up and going towards their table, arms crossed. «Me could swear me just heard someone exclaim "A giant pie, that's genius!" somewhere around here.»

«Hallucinating, wonderful. Not that I am surprised, it's noon and you already smell like a detonated distillery.» Garaham glared at her. «No public use of magic! You, ragtag band of dunces!»

Banshee opened her mouth to reply.

She closed it.

«Maybe you're right when you say those three would be lost without you.» Francesca chimed in, with a scornful snigger.

Banshee shot a glance to the woman but didn't give in to the provocation.

«We'll think of something else.» she conceded and turned to go back towards her table, under the wondering and curious gaze of little Michael and Joan. Garaham sighed and beckoned the waiter to ask for the bill.

Banshee sat down, disappointed, and summarized the situation to the other two, while Chief and family left the restaurant, the kids still turning to look at the three people sitting at the window table in a strange, thoughtful silence.

«So no magic.» said Vopros.

«Nay, not in public, anyway. We need something else.» Banshee shook her head. «Chico, why don't ye, I don't know, start having some kind o' seizure, right in the middle o' the balcony? Everybody would flock there and... Vopros?»

Banshee stopped talking when she saw what Vopros had taken out of his jacket. It was a small stick of dynamite.

«Duck.» he just said. He moved his hand, slightly, and the stick disappeared into thin air. Banshee and Chico had just the time to understand what was happening, as they saw him put something in his ears with peaceful and well-calculated movements, then they could just react rolling under the table a mere couple of seconds before the men's bathroom blew up with a thundering sound.

Chaos started.

People were screaming, running around, coughing as black smoke filled the room, making many eyes water. Everyone stuck down to the pavement, trying to follow the panicked instructions of the restaurant's personnel, guiding the evacuation procedure.