Jago & Litefoot & Peggy (7)

Litefoot watched as the bell impacted on the floor below, cracking and denting the marble tiles. Flecks of stone were bounced upwards as splinters of wooden beams fell down in the bell's wake. The bell itself crumbled significantly, with a horrendous cacophony echoed throughout the church structure.
"Ask not for whom the bell tolls..." mused Litefoot to himself. After a brief pause, he added.
"How the Devil am I going to get down from here?!"

Jago abruptly stopped playing the church organ, falling to his knees and clasping his hands over his ears. Trying in vain to shut out the incapacitating ring of impacted steel. At the altar, Ulysses was also reeling in agony, and he dropped his weapon out of fear and surprise. The priest was tossed aside, and as he lay on the ground, was struck by a particularly large mass of debris. Peggy, seemingly unperturbed by the noise, charged at the distracted Ulysses, wrapping her arms about his waist and driving him backwards towards the altar. The both collided with the stone table, though he absorbed most of the impact. Ulysses was out out cold.

Peggy set about restraining the prone villain as Jago staggered towards her.
"Damn and blast!" he boomed, in her general direction. "Can't hear a bally thing, save for this accursed ringing in my ears! Say, why do you seem so unaffected by that cacophonous calamity caused by my colleague?"
For a few moments Peggy didn't acknowledge Jago's presence. With a start, she turned to find him alongside her.  Raising a hand to her ear, she withdrew a small flesh tones device.
"Earplugs." she explained. "Electronic and noise cancelling, the handiwork of Mr. Stark. Handy for air travel, especially when you travel as often as I do."
"Air travel... Humans soaring through the blue yonder as birds of prey. The wonders of the future..." Jago muttered to himself.

"Geronimo!" exclaimed a voice from the heavens, as Litefoot shimmied down the rope which used to be connected to the bell's chime. "Sorry to drop in like this."
"You've been waiting to use that one, haven't you?" asked Jago, smiling at his friend's return.
"Unfortunately yes. I didn't want to come down before I had prepared a pithy remark."
"Next time, best leave it to the professionals though."

"Over here!" called Peggy, interrupting the banter. "The priest is injured."
"Let me examine him, I am a medical professional." answered Litefoot.
"Though his speciality is those who are post mortis, typically." added Jago.
"Not now, Henry!"
"Sorry. Quite right Professor."
Litefoot removed his jacket, using it to support the priest's head. Peggy tore off a strip of cloth from the alter cover, and began to compress the man's head wound.
"Laceration to the temple, the chap is unconscious, probably concussed. Jago! Head outside, fetch an ambulance. This man needs a hospital."

Roughly an hour later, the trio had regrouped outside the church. The priest, a Father Crowley, had been transferred to St. Bart's for observation, while Ulysses was in police custody, and the sonic cannon in the hands of Howard Stark.
"Is that it?" asked Jago.
"What do you mean, old boy?"
"It's just, normally our cases are not wrapped up so succinctly."
"If I were you Mr. Jago, I'd just be grateful that this mess is over with." added Peggy.
"It's been an honour working with you two."
"Likewise, Miss Carter." said Litefoot. "You know, you remind me of our friend, Ellie."
"Sharp as a tack, hard as nails and good as gold!" concurred Jago.
"And, you've both saved our lives. I think you two would get along quite well."
"There's an idea! Ellie & Peggy, female fighters of ferocious fiends, defenders of the Earth."
"You must come along with us to Ellie's. She runs a restaurant not too far from here. You'd be more than welcome."
"A tempting offer, I'm sure. But..." Peggy protested.
"Nonsense, it's a time tested tradition to taste libationary liquids at the end of a case!"
"Well, if you insist. It would be churlish to refuse such an offer, after all."

Shortly thereafter, they all found themselves outside of Higgie's restaurant.  It was still relatively early in the day, so the place was empty of patrons. The only people inside were Ellie herself, and a dark haired serving girl.
"Ah, if it isn't the effervescent Ellie!" exclaimed Jago. "We'd like you to meet a friend of ours. Ellie, say hello to Miss Peggy..." Jago petered out, noticing that Peggy was instead staring at the waitress.
"English! Fancy meeting you in a place like this. It's been too long, how the hell are you?" she spoke at a rapid pace, with a New York accent.
"Angie? Is it really you?" asked Peggy in response. The two women ran towards each other, and embraced warmly.

In a hospital room at St. Bart's, a nurse was about to finish her rounds for the night. She entered the room of her final patient, a priest who had been rushed in earlier that day. He'd been catatonic since he'd been admitted, she thought to herself. Shouldn't take long to check on him before she could head home. She froze upon entering the room. The bed was empty! Startled, she spun around, preparing to summon a doctor to the room.

Blocking her path in the gloomy room was a figure in a hospital gown, head bandaged and white hair messy and unkempt. He spoke, gruffly, and rapidly.
"Heathens. Heathens must be purged in the cataclysm. I am the chosen, the herald of Judgement Day, the prophet of the apocalypse. He speaks to me, he has called me to carry out his work in this cesspit of sin and vice."
"Sir... Please, return to bed. I'll fetch the doctor..."
"No doctor can cure the excess of this world. Nobody an carve out the tumour of your sin, except me."
Something sharp and metal glinted in his hand. Before she could cry out, he had slit her throat.

Jago & Litefoot & Peggy shall return in;

JPL: The Second Coming.