Troy smiled, knowing George must have been taken by complete surprise when he discovered sixteen airships flying Community flags cruising over Haven toward the Citadel. Unfortunately Troy didn’t get to see the Mayor’s reaction.

With George’s fleet occupied, Troy accepted Anna’s proposal to assault the Citadel exactly like they had before when they covertly got in to break open the Mayor’s safe the first time, knowing the Guard would not expect such an obvious attack, especially while occupied defending the city from a full on assault by a fleet of Community airships.

After air-jumping to the roof with Kyle and Jimmy, Troy lead the way inside and together they secured the lobby after taking down the two Guardsmen standing sentry outside George’s office. Sargent Hanson, Jon and Anna had stayed behind to man Mabel’s airship in case they needed to make a quick escape with the Mayor as their prisoner. “Stay here and guard the lobby,” Troy said, brooking no argument from either Kyle or Jimmy. “I’ll confront George alone. This is personal now.”

Karl nodded and Jimmy shook Troy’s hand, a final encouragement. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Feeling a sense of satisfaction, Troy volted the doors open with a magically enhanced kick.

George gawked at the sight of him standing there, Isabel and Walcox at his side, equally stunned. Outside, airships from both sides engaged each other in combat, firing shells and bullets. The PI stepped into the room, pistol in hand. “Quite the blow you got going, George. Now it’s over.”

Isabel made to move toward him, but George scowled and stopped her. “I thought you said you killed him, Captain?”

Isabel gasped. “What?”

“Quiet,” George pulled Isabel around his desk and dialed a number on his rotary phone.

Walcox stepped forward to confront Troy. “I’ll kill him now.”

That was some pretty tough talk coming from a man being held at gunpoint. “No you won’t!” Isabel ordered. “What’s going on, here? I demand to know right now!”

“I said be quiet!” George snapped. “The flagship is docked with the Citadel. Why aren’t they picking up?”

Troy barely managed to keep from snarling. He glanced toward his fiancé. “Isabel, everything’s going to be fine, just do what your father says and—“

A fusillade of gunfire erupted out in the reception hall. Troy glanced away out of concern for Karl and Jimmy.

Walcox reacted.

Troy tried to volt the pistol out of his hand but the Captain was too fast. Troy’s shoulder exploded in a mist of blood as he spun a one eighty with the force of the bullet’s impact. Troy grunted as he slammed into the floor. He angled his revolver to get a shot off, but the Captain rushed him and stepped on his wrist.

Walcox pulled the weapon from Troy’s hand and tossed it aside, aimed his own pistol at Troy’s forehead. He sneered, finger tightening on the trigger. “Sorry.”

“No!” Isabel screeched.

Movement came from the door. “Troy! Troy, you all right?!”

It was Jimmy.

Walcox shot first. Troy tried to pull his shoulder out from under the Captain’s boot, but the pain in his shoulder stopped him as he growled with frustration and pain.

“Ohmygod! Stop!”

“Shut up, girl,” George ordered. “Walcox, finish him off.”

Walcox turned to Troy and flinched, the corner of a book taking him squarely in the temple. He grunted, stumbling back. The distraction gave Troy just enough time to kick the Captain’s boots out from under him. He jumped on top of Walcox to deliver a flurry of punches with his good arm, but the Captain managed to bring his pistol to bear, forcing Troy to grab for it.

Shots cracked out in the hall. It was Karl, keeping reinforcements from piling into the Mayor’s office. Walcox took a hand away from the pistol, angled his palm forward to volt Troy off of him.

The PI flew through the air.

The next thing Troy knew, he was on the other side of the room with his back against a bookcase, hammering pain driving between his shoulder blades while books tumbled to the floor beside him.

The Captain got to his feet, aimed his .45 caliber pistol. Troy volted a lamp from the table behind Walcox and it cracked against the back of his head. The red-mustached man stumbled forward, his pistol tumbling over the carpet. He scrambled, volting for it. Troy volted the other pistol and grit his teeth as the weapon slammed into his palm. He aimed down the barrel squarely at Walcox’s head and pulled the trigger.

The Captain of the Citadel Guard fell dead to the carpet.

Troy turned, winced as the Mayor pulled Isabel across the gangplank that had been extended into the window from George’s flagship during the ruckus. He grunted, half turning back to the lobby. “Jimmy!”

“Yeah,” the older PI called from behind the wall. He fired his sub-machine gun at something. “Over here!”

Realizing that Jimmy’s wound must have been minor, Troy sprinted for the window as the gangplank was being retracted and volted across the open space. He landed on the half retracted boarding ramp. The two crewmen working to retract the gangplank drew for their pistols. Troy shot the one on the left and volted the other forward, sending him screaming to his death.

Troy paused for a moment, bracing his shoulder against the pain caused by the exertion of jumping and landing, and then pushed on after George and Isabel, taking quick note of the superficiality of his shoulder wound. He sprinted down the interior portside companionway, making his way into the passenger cabin where he found the plush seats empty. He turned around, left the passenger deck and made for the command deck.

A crewman confronted him outside the door to the bridge, tried to get a shot off, but Troy volted his attacker’s aim down to the floor before shooting him in the kneecap. The crewman cried out, clutching the wound. Troy volted the man into the corridor and his head thumped against the luxuriously paneled wall, silencing his cry.

The PI found George on the flagship’s bridge. The big man was clutching Isabel’s arm as he yelled orders to the four officers that made up the flight crew. “Let her go!” Troy barked.

Isabel whirled. “Troy!”

George looked like he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Damnation, man! How are you not dead yet?”

Two of the flight officers trained their side arms on him, but Troy ignored them. “I said let her go.”

George tightened his grip.

“Owe! That hurts.”

“Quiet!”

Troy grit his teeth, thought about what to do next as the two flyboys held him at gunpoint.

“If you don’t drop your weapon and surrender right now,” George said, “I’ll have my men kill you, Troy.” He pushed Isabel to the side. “I’d rather not have my daughter see that.”

Troy wished she wasn’t here right now. “It’s going to be all right,” he told her.

She nodded.

“You think you can just shoot your way in here and tell her that?” George snarled. “Don’t listen to him, love. He’s a traitor.”

Troy decided to react when those flyboys would least expect it. He shot the fella on the right, and then volted the other man’s arm into the air. The flyboy shot the roof as Troy lunged for his neck. He grabbed hard and pressed the barrel of his pistol into the man’s forehead. “Drop it.”

The flyboy obeyed and Troy turned him around, gripping his shoulder tight as he repositioned his pistol against the man’s temple.

The other two flyboys abandoned their posts, drew their weapons and left the flagship’s flight controls completely unmanned. George backed away to the main console, grabbed the ship-wide announcer. “Crew, this is the Mayor. Return to the flight deck immediately, we have intruders on the bridge!”

Swell, Troy thought.

“It’s over, son,” George said. “You can’t fight all my men.”

Troy skirted to the side so his back was protected by the bulkhead. Frustration and anger boiled up inside him. “Why, George? Why do it?” He grit his teeth against the blossoming pain in his shoulder. It was more of a nuisance than anything else. “Karl Raven was right about you.”

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Isabel bared her teeth. “Damn you both! What the hell is going on?!”

“I told you. Troy is a traitor. He’s trying to stage a coup so he can take control of the Citadel. Don’t you see the Community airships outside? He’s a Community spy!”

There was a look of uncertainty in her eyes. “Troy, is this true?”

“Baby, I’m not a spy. I’m a PI—I fought in the war for crying out loud!”

“Then tell me what’s happening.”

“Stop talking to him,” George commanded as his two flyboys were reinforced by five more crewmen. They rushed onto the bridge, boots thumping. They trained revolvers and Thompsons on Troy and his hostage.

“Shoot him.”

“Don’t! Father, Stop it!”

George jerked his head back and forth, his second chin jiggling. “I told you to stay out of this. He’s a Community agent, fool girl!”

One of the bridge officers broke off to attend the airship. Troy didn’t want Haven’s prize flagship in the battle, and decided to keep the bridge as occupied as possible. He shot at the console, forcing the flight officer back. “Don’t even think about it, wise guy.”

The five other crewmen split up to get around Troy, but he moved to the starboard side of the bridge, the viewport between himself and the outside, his human shield the only thing standing between him and a firing squad.

“Listen, boys…when bullets start flying, first you’re going to kill your friend here.” It was a bunch of hooey, but the officer in his grip stiffened regardless. Troy looked at him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’d never do that, because once they kill you, I’ll shoot back. I probably won’t be able to take out all of your friends turning you into holed cheese, but I’ll sure as hell take half of them with me. We’ll have quite the blow—right here on the bridge! You boys want that?”

“Enough. Kill him, dammit!”

Isabel stepped in front of George. “Stop!”

Growling, the Mayor grabbed her by the arms and they began to struggle.

“Let go of me!” Isabel snarled, managing to wriggle out of his grip. She bolted across the bridge, George scrambling to grab hold of her as she went to Troy, arms spread wide, protective.

Troy’s heart skipped a beat. George would never risk harming her. Would he? “What are you doing? Baby, get out of the way!”

“I will not—not while my father’s trying to have you killed!”

The Mayor’s complexion paled. “Hold your fire.” He looked at his daughter for a beat. “Isabel, come back here at once!”

Isabel shook her head, her dark wavy hair bouncing about her shoulders. “No. You lied to me. You said Troy was fine when in fact you tried to have him killed! If Troy’s a Community spy, then why keep it a secret?”

The Mayor’s lies were catching up quick. Good. “Yeah, George, why don’t you tell her why you had Walcox try to bump me off, killing good Haven police officers while he was at it.”

George spluttered, face going from a splotchy red to near purple as more crewmen piled onto the bridge. Swell. Now there were eleven of them on the Mayor’s side, completely cornering Troy and Isabel.

“Look outside, girl.” George gestured jerkily. “Are you trying to get us all killed? Isabel, I’m your father. Obey me!”

She ignored him, turned and met Troy’s eyes, a pained expression on her face. She knew they weren’t getting out of this. Had to. Even if they could, it was too dangerous to try. This could only end badly.

Troy wasn’t going to allow Isabel to push George to the breaking point—forcing him to do something rash. Not if he loved her. Suddenly feeling sick, he sighed with resignation as he made his decision. “All right, George, you win…” Troy shoved his hostage to the side, came up behind Isabel and put his free hand on her shoulder. “Maybe this is for the best,” he said quietly. Stepping back, he raised his pistol above his head in surrender. It killed Troy to give up, but if Isabel got hurt because of him, it wouldn’t matter if he managed to save the city from its own damn Mayor.

“No,” Isabel said, putting her arms around him, protecting him as he was disarmed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, as the crewmen surrounded them. Isabel didn’t know the real truth, and probably never would. Not now.

George yanked Isabel to his side and sneered. “Glad to see you acting like man instead of hiding behind my daughters skirts like a coward.”

“I’m a veteran and a patriot!”

George smirked. “No…no, you’re a traitor.”

Troy clenched his teeth, jaws hurting from the effort.

Suddenly Isabel’s eyes widened as she sucked in a sharp breath. She screamed as George looked up through the crescent-shaped cascade of bridge viewports. “Good God!” George croaked. “Turn, you fools! Turn us away!”

The crewmen and the flyboys all looked up in unison as Troy jerked around to see a Community airship’s bow gun explode in a flurry of smoke and fire. Without thinking, Troy grabbed Isabel and threw her to the deck, shielding her body with his own as the shell screamed to a high pitch right at the moment of impact. The bridge exploded in a hail of glass and wooden splinters as a shock of pain went through Troy’s ears. Thick smoke roiled into the bridge, causing everyone to gag or cough as stinging fumes entered their lungs.

Troy glanced around but couldn’t see anything through the eye-burning haze. That was what happened when your flyboys weren’t paying attention.

Bunch of saps.

To make matters worse, bullets started cracking into the bridge. Troy curled tighter around Isabel while men scrambled to defend the flagship from attack, calling for return fire while George yelled out to his daughter through the conflagration.

Troy put his hand over Isabel’s mouth so she wouldn’t inadvertently respond. He leaned in. “Are you okay? Can you move?” She nodded and Troy told her to keep low and follow him. Together they scrambled along the deck on their hands and knees, coughing and gagging through the smoke as they navigated the outskirts of the bridge, avoiding George and his men and the bullets.

They found the exit corridor as George issued commands to his men to forget about return fire. “Find my daughter, you incompetent fools!”

Coughing, Troy helped Isabel to her feet, urging her by the hand down the corridor toward the back of the airship. “We have to get out of here before this thing goes down.”

“But my father!”

Bullets cracked against the outside of the flagship as something exploded, making the vessel shutter. Had they just drifted into the center of the battle? “I promise I’ll explain everything later,” he said as they entered the sky-jumping bay. He locked the door behind them and they nearly lost their footing as the airship shook again, another explosion rocking the flagship somewhere on the starboard bow. Troy grabbed a sky-jumping pack off the bulkhead and strapped it on, then made to help Isabel into one, but realized her frilly dress would be a serious hindrance to her ability to land without injury. “You can’t wear that.”

“What?” She croaked, eyes widening. “We have to jump?”

“Yes,” he said impatiently. “Now let’s get a wiggle on!”

“But—“

She gasped as Troy ripped her dress at the left shoulder. “What are you doing?”

He ripped the other side with a quick yank of both hands. “I told you, you can’t sky-jump all dolled up like this. If you can’t see, you’ll mess up your landing and break your legs. Have you ever sky-jumped before?”

Isabel spluttered. “Of course not!”

It was mainly a military apparatus. “It’s easy.” He jerked his head around at the sound of men barreling down the corridor. “Listen! When you’re clear of the flagship, you pull this red thing here!” He indicated the pull cord on his vest, but when he realized she wasn’t looking—was she starting to hyperventilate?—he grabbed her hand and put it where it was supposed to go. “Right before you hit the ground, you bend your knees and roll into the landing! Can you remember that?”

“I can’t do it! Troy—I can’t!” She grabbed him, fingers digging into his arms with sheer terror.

“After them!” George bellowed. “Do not let them escape!”

“Yes you can!” He pulled himself away, grabbed her dress from the bosom and yanked it down, exposing her corset, garter belt and other underclothes. She shrieked, but Troy ignored her as he put the sky-jumping vest on her, his hands trembling as he fastened the buckle around her torso.

George and his men were seconds away from getting through the locked door. Troy pushed the bay door lever and the belly doors whined open as servomechanisms did their work. Isabel squirmed as he guided her near the edge. A gust of warm summer air flowed through the cabin. “Put your goggles on!”

Suddenly the door flung open and George rushed into the bay, snarling. “Troy!”

Troy could have shot the big man, but he didn’t want to kill George while his daughter was watching, and used that split second of time to push Isabel out of the airship. She screamed, but the sound was cut off by her sheer drop.

A crewman strafed out from behind the Mayor, fired his pistol. The bullet shrieked above Troy’s head as he jumped headlong after his fiancé. The fresh air blasted against his face as he dove forward like a speeding bullet with a marked target. After a few seconds he pulled his draw cord. The tanks on Troy’s back hissed as they filled his balloon with levitating gasses. There was a sudden jerk and his descent slowed.

Isabel’s air balloon was visible bellow. Troy sucked in a deep breath. She got the first part right. Now the landing, he thought, anxious.

Fortunately she landed in a soft field of green grass behind the sand dunes. Troy sighed with relief. Isabel would kill him for this. But he’d explained to her that they needed to ditch the flagship. She understood that. Didn’t she?

Troy landed near the water, unbuckled his pack and ran, tearing off his brass rimmed goggles as his feet sank into the hot sand. He crested the dunes and found Isabel still on her back, chest heaving. It took her a few moments to come to. When she did, her eyes widened, and she lurched with a swat at his chest. “Troy, you bastard!”

“You aint gonna go all blooey on me, are you, baby?”

She wasn’t the type. She got up and slapped her thighs. “You pushed me out of the airship! And you ripped my dress off!”

She tried to cover herself. From the beginning, their courtship had been very proper, but seeing her like this, Troy couldn’t help but grin. “Look at them gams...”

Her cheeks reddened. “Stop that.”

“We’re getting married.”

“We’re not married, yet!”

Troy sighed. “Such a prude.”

“I am not,” she shot back.

Troy glanced up toward the battle as Isabel continued to fret, having nothing to cover herself with. She tried to use the sky-jumping vests, but after a few attempts gave it up.

Most of the airships were smoking with evident damage while small explosions thundered about incongruently with puffs of black smoke and fire. Some of the airships were beginning to beat hasty retreats. It was impossible to say who’s ships were leaving or who was winning the fight—not from the ground; the differences in flags weren’t visible, but Troy thought they were probably the Mayor’s airships retreating after his flagship had gone down with a dull, thunderous explosion somewhere off the coast on the north side of the city. Most conflicts would end out of sheer drop in soldier morale after seeing their leader die.

Presumably, Troy corrected. George wasn’t dead. There had been plenty of time and extra sky-jumping vests in the bay. Grateful, yet mildly disappointed, he stepped closer to Isabel, took her in his arms while the battle above melted away.

Somebody’s airships took evident control of the Citadel as they coalesced around the high-rise like a small school of bloated fish. Now we find out who won, he thought.

“Is it over?” Isabel asked.

Troy nodded as thick oily trails of black smoke billowed from beyond the rising buildings where George’s flagship had crashed. “I know you’re confused, but—“

“Ugh! Just tell me.”

Troy took her hands in his.

“Well, get a wiggle on,” she urged.

He chuckled. “I need to get you to a safe place first.” Troy felt overjoyed that they had both survived and that this whole screwy situation was finished, for good or ill. He embraced Isabel, kissed her. She responded to his affection, clearly not mad at him.

Finally she pulled away. “That’s the check,” she said sheepishly.

“Surely I’m entitled to a bit of extra smoochin’?”

She quirked a smile. “You threw me out an airship.”

“To save you.”

She laughed, wagging a finger. “There’s gonna be plenty of time for smoochin’ after the wedding, but for now, baby, the bank’s closed.”

Troy sighed. “Come on, we need to get out of here. There’s still a bunch of rioters in the city.