The Vampire Files - Bloodlist Part 11

Chapter 6.

SILENTLY ENTERING THE house by way of the kitchen, I started to re-form, but became aware just in time to dodge two men making a late raid on the icebox.

"Did you see that?" a distorted voice asked.

"See what?"

"I thought something moved over there."

"Check it out, then."

I held still, even when something alien intruded into my amorphous body.

"Jesus, it's cold as h.e.l.l in here. Shut that box up."

"You see anything?"

"Nah."

'Boss'll think you're drinking, you talk like that."

"I could use one."

I left them to their food and moved on to the bas.e.m.e.nt. The lab was as I'd left it, complete with the "milk and cookies" guard. Try as I might, I couldn't work up any dislike for the guy, and it took a real effort to tap him a good one behind the ear so I could do my work undisturbed. To make up for the a.s.sault, I eased him gently to the floor and thoughtfully folded his magazine into his coat pocket. Then I went through the lab like a dose of salts, opening cabinets and leaving them open, dumping drawers and looking for papers that might be useful. Escort had been thorough, though, and anything really important would be upstairs with Paco.

Now I hauled out Escott's present, a single stick of dynamite with a five-minute fuse attached. It would do the job, but I wanted to be certain of the lab's utter destruction, and for that spent the next few minutes sloshing several gallons of alcohol all over the room. The walk-in storage closet was full of usable items, and anything marked flammable was added to the general mess. I made sure the air vents were wide open. There were no windows to the outside or I'd have opened them as well. After that I gave the gas taps for the Bunsen burners a good twist and listened to it hiss invisibly into the room.

Propping the dynamite on the one clean table in the middle, I lit the fuse with some nervousness. In the five minutes it would take to burn down I planned to be in the car with Escott and tearing down the road back to Chicago.I hoisted the guard with the sweet tooth over my shoulders, my new strength making him seem remarkably light, then unlocked the lab door that led to the T- intersection and set it to lock again once it was closed. Trudging upstairs with my burden, I opened the second door into the hall and put the man down to one side. My back was to the hall while I was busy with the door. Too late, I heard the sharp clunk of a machine gun bolt being drawn back. My guess that the hallway would have less traffic than the kitchen was wrong.

"Freeze right there, buddy," a voice told me.

I had to obey and wondered how I could stall them. If I left now they might check the bas.e.m.e.nt and, depending on their luck, foil the explosion or be blown up. There were two men behind me. One of them approached, and I raised my hands slowly.

"Stay outta my line of fire, Harry."

Harry grunted in acknowledgment. He searched me with quick, professional slaps. "He's clean," he announced, and stepped back.

"What's going on?" demanded another, more authoritative voice.

"We caught ourselves a burglar, Mr. Paco."

"Check out the lab, Harry."

I made a move to stop him, but was told again to stay put. Harry slipped downstairs. "The door's still locked, Mr. Paco," he called up.

"Then how'd he get Newton out, dummy? Get up here and check 'em. He's gotta have keys or something."

My muscles had gone all tight. Frank Pace's voice had touched a dormant nerve in my brain. I needed time to think, to remember...

"You! Turn around."

I turned slowly, enjoying first the puzzlement, recognition, and then shock on Paco's face.

"Fleming," he breathed softly. Only I could hear him. I felt an awful smile crawling across my features.

The portrait in his office had been too flattering-the artist must have wanted his commission very badly. He'd caught the wide face and pop eyes, but had omitted the ingrained hardness and suspicious set to his mouth. He was shorter than Sanderson, but built much the same; stocky with muscle, rather than flab, and not afraid to use it, but now, because of my face, he fell back a step in fear.

"Mr. Paco?" the man with the machine gun said uncertainly.

The need to a.s.sert his authority overrode his confusion. He straightened and glared at me, rejecting his first instincts. And why not? As far as he knew, Jack Fleming had died over a week ago.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Gerald Fleming. I believe you know my older brother. Jack."

Paco seized the explanation as I knew he would. Once more on firm ground, he was able to deal with the situation. "Yeah," he agreed reasonably. "I know your brother."

"You met him the other week, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we had some things to talk over. But you answer the questions here, punk.

What are you doing in my house?"

"I thought we could talk."

"We'll talk and you better answer straight. What are you after?"

I said nothing and my bloodshot stare made him uncomfortable.

"This guy's some kind of freak. Take him out and get rid of him."

Harry and the machine gunner each grabbed an arm and marched me past Paco and down the stem of the T. "Get rid of me and you'll never find that list," I shot back. My escort hesitated.

"What makes you think I want it?"

"My brother told me you were after it. He gave it to me. I know you got him. I'll trade you the list for him."

Paco was chuckling. I'd given him a lot to laugh at.

"What if I got it already?"

"Then you wouldn't bother talking to me now." Maybe the bluff would stall things longer. I had no idea if there was enough truth in it to give him doubts, but I was certain I hadn't talked aboard the Elvira. He might still want his list. "I came here to look for my brother. You caught me square, but I'm willing to deal."

"I'll just bet you are." Paco came closer, his eyes absorbing my face. I hoped my reclaimed youth would pa.s.s the hard study. "I'll deal with you the same as I did with him." His hand came up and he tried to knock my jaw off its hinges. I faked the impact, snapping my head hard over and letting my knees buckle. The two men on either side kept me standing.

Not that I paid them much attention, my guts had gone cold. (They were going to kill me... they were going to beat me to death...) "You hear me, punk?" Paco's voice jolted me back to the hallway. "You start talking. You tell me how you got in here. You tell-"

"Frank?"

"What?" His head jerked around in irritation. Another man strolled up. He was in evening clothes, holding a gla.s.s, and his face had the broken-veined, dissipated look of a confirmed alcoholic.

"Ask him what he was doing in the lab. Is the lab safe?"

"He musta got in somehow to get Newton out, Doc," said Harry. "The door's locked now and I don't have no key to check."

"Oh, of course, hold my drink." The man fumbled in his pockets. "I have mine right here... um... somewhere."

"I told you, I was only looking for my brother," I insisted, needing to sidetrack them.

"Then why were you dragging Newton around?"

"I thought I could use him as a hostage."

Paco didn't believe that one at all, not that I blamed him. He threw a hard punch to my stomach. I doubled over, remembering to force air from my lungs. I sagged between my supports, gagging a little, and hoped my performance was convincing.

"How'd you get in here?" Paco repeated.

"Snuck past men-open window-"

"Frank, do you have your key, I must have left mine-"

"Not now. Doc!"

"You'll think not now if he's damaged anything down there."

Paco growled and slapped through his pockets. I straightened, worked saliva into my mouth, and spit right in Paco's face.

It was a more than sufficient distraction. Paco gaped at me, frozen in sheer disbelief. His big hand came up slowly to wipe it away. I found a perverse enjoyment in the situation and let it show.

"Leave it there," I suggested. "On you it looks good."

He went beet red, then hit me hard enough to knock me from the grip of my two supports. Stiff-legged, he bulled after me with his fists ready, and I made a big show of cowering and backing away. Paco struck again and again. I was only distantly aware of the blows, feeling impact rather than pain. He'd wear his hands out before he could do me any real harm now. I put on a good act, though, crying out, throwing my arms up, trying to protect my face and groin and each second moving farther and farther away from the bas.e.m.e.nt door.

I heard it a split second before anyone else and, down already, I just covered my head and lay p.r.o.ne.

The blast roared up the stairs, knocking the bottom door to splinters and shattering every window in the house. The whole structure shook; plaster and framed pictures alike jumped from the walls to the bucking floor. The men in the hall were bounced away by the concussion, and the machine gun went off and tore holes in the ceiling.

Paco, Doc, and Harry were knocked flat, Paco actually somersaulting over me.

People were yelling alarms in other parts of the house and beneath it all, like the purr of a tiger, I heard the fire. It was time to go.

I got my feet under me and stood in time to greet the reinforcements rushing in from the dining room. Spotted as the outsider, two of them grabbed me while a third aided Paco. He threw off the helping hands and came straight for me. He halted inches away, glaring.

"Take this b.a.s.t.a.r.d to my office. Somebody call the fire department."

They dragged me to the office on the other side of the house. Behind us Paco was talking to Doc.

"Get up, you G.o.dd.a.m.ned lush. We got work to do."

I faked weakness, hoping they might get careless and take their eyes off me for a moment so I could disappear, but there was no such luck, not with the boss right behind them. They kept their eyes and guns locked on my head until Paco came in, dragging Doc with him.

Doc was the worse for wear and dropped onto a couch, holding his head. Paco went to the ma.s.sive desk, unlocked it, and began cramming papers into a briefcase.

"What's Slick going to say about this?" Doc wondered out loud.

"I already know," said Paco. "And if you got any brains in that skull that ain't been pickled yet, you'll figure it out, too."

"What will we do?"

"A quick trip outta town with a few of my best boys until this blows over."

"An apt phrase."

"And this mug's coming, too. Slick and me screwed up with his brother, but I won't be taking any chances with this one. If I come up with his list and hand it over, Slick will cancel all my IOUs.""a.s.suming you get him to talk."

"He'll talk. He don't have his brother's guts."

Oh, yeah?

"What about me?"

"Don't worry, I'll find a safe spot for you until we can set things up again." He snapped the case shut. "Come on."

They opened the door to a smoke-filled hallway. Paco's men were losing out to the fire. He slammed the door, coughing. "We'll take the back way," he said, and started for another door across the room.

Just as he touched the k.n.o.b, the lights went out. Not knowing how long it would last, I took advantage of the situation. In seconds I knocked Doc and the other two men out cold. The sounds alerted Paco. He swung around, a gun in his hand.

"What's going on?" he demanded. "Doc? Sam? Answer me!"

I grabbed his wrist, pushing the gun away and squeezing. He grunted in pain, dropping the gun from suddenly nerveless fingers. He was trying not to scream. I eased off, but only a little.

"Fleming, it's you, ain't it? We can still talk. I can still give you your brother-"

Now he did scream, my grip on his wrist tightened involuntarily and the bones snapped. He dropped the briefcase and sank to the floor when I released him.

"No deals, Paco," I whispered from the dark.

"What d'ya want? Just tell me..."

What I wanted he didn't want to know. The hate inside me was growing like a separate living thing, and I wanted to turn it loose on this man and let it tear him to b.l.o.o.d.y ribbons. I picked him up by the clothes and shoved him against the wall. He made a small movement with his left hand. I should have paid attention, but was too crazy to notice. He drew a slightly deeper breath and briefly held it, which was a warning, but then it was too late. The hard snout of a nickel-plated derringer was pressed up under my rib cage and he triggered both shots.

Two red-hot comets tore through me, leaving behind the harsh, ringing aftershock of pain. My body spasmed once for each bullet. I must have cried aloud in reflex, because it hurt like h.e.l.l. Paco let his breath out in relief and waited for me to fall away.