The Adventures of Lazarus Gray (21 page)

Lazarus smiled and the
sight was so rare that it froze Morgan in the act of tying up
Pemberley. "Thank you for that, Morgan. We might have some things
in common. Both of us have turned over a new leaf."

***

Samantha was no stranger to
breaking and entering. It was an odd thing, how proficient she had
become at such a thing. Growing up in the midst of wealth and
luxury, she had never seemed like the kind of girl likely to become
adept at picking locks or shimmying in through windows.

Life was strange like
that.

Wallace J. Newton’s office
had been near the wharf in a rather seedy-looking two-story
building. There were three other nameplates on the door outside the
building’s entrance, with one of them offering private massage
therapy and the other two offering income tax assistance. In all
three cases, Samantha was sure that the legality of the services
offered was questionable at best.

Newton had apparently never
encountered a piece of paper that he deemed worthy of being thrown
away. There were mounds of the stuff all over every available
surface and Samantha couldn’t be sure where the desk even was at
first, though she soon reasoned that it must be located somewhere
near the rolling chair that had been converted into a
shelf.

Samantha regarded the mess
with a stoicism that was reminiscent of her employer. She knew that
delaying it wouldn’t improve the situation any, so she simply dove
into the task with gusto. In a surprisingly short amount of time,
she’d uncovered a small folder filled with information about a man
named Mr. Skull. As her eyes scanned the documents, she learned
that the mysterious criminal was actually Garrison Montreux, a
Canadian who had moved to Sovereign recently. From the looks of
things, Newton had become curious about the man after learning that
Doc Pemberley was working for him. Samantha couldn’t help but
admire Newton for doing this much digging when he wasn’t being paid
for it. It must have taken many hours of work: he’d compiled a list
of men who worked for Skull, along with their usual haunts and what
hours they were there.

A notepad shoved into the
folder was filled with Newton’s musings on the matter: again and
again, it seemed, he was wrestling with what to do with the
information. Like most people in Sovereign, he knew that going to
the police was a risky endeavor since at least some of the cops
were likely to be crooks themselves. Samantha’s heart skipped a
beat when she saw the words Assistance Unlimited followed by a
question mark. The words were circled and in red underneath had
been hastily scribbled ‘Yes!’ Apparently, Newton had been planning
to turn over all this information to Gray at some point.

She heard heavy footsteps
and the muted voices of men in the hallway. Quickly shoving the
folder into the compact purse she carried, Samantha crawled under
the desk as someone pushed open the door. From her vantage point,
she could only see the feet of those who entered but it looked like
three men. Two sets of legs were in ratty pants and soiled shoes.
The man in the front, however, was wearing shoes so highly polished
that Samantha was sure she’d be able to see the man’s face in them,
had her position been better. His pants, too, were of the highest
quality.

"Search the place, boys,"
the well-dressed man said. "If that private dick had any
information on me, I want it now."

"You got it, boss," one of
the others answered. As the two men began rifling through boxes and
papers, casually tossing them to the floor when they were done with
them, Samantha felt a chill go down her back. So this was Mr.
Skull… things were beginning to fall into place. Newton was
tracking Pemberley, which led him to Skull, who didn’t appreciate
the attention. So Mr. Skull had Newton silenced, which
inadvertently accomplished what Newton had wanted all along: to
bring Skull to the attention of someone who could stop
him.

Mr. Skull sauntered over to
the window, peering outside. "When we’re done here, we’re headed
over to the reservoir."

One of the men paused long
enough to ask, "Uh, what for, boss?"

"We’re going to dump some
of the Bone Dust into the city’s water supply. By this time
tomorrow, we should have a few hundred, if not a thousand, dead.
When the citizens of Sovereign see their husbands, wives, children
all suffering before their eyes, they’ll be ready to do anything in
exchange for an end to it. I’ll be able to name my
price."

Samantha’s eyes went wide.
What sort of man would do such a thing? She shuddered to think of
the horrors that would ensue. It was one thing to murder a grown
man like Wallace Newton – but to disfigure and kill children? She
bit her lip to keep from crying out in disgust.

Apparently, the acts under
discussion gave even Skull’s men reason to pause. The second man,
the one who had asked about the reservoir, cleared his throat.
"That’s gonna attract all kinds of heat, boss. I mean, it’s not
just gonna be the law after us – I bet we’d be dealing with Doc
Daye or Assistance Unlimited!"

"Then let them come!" Mr.
Skull bellowed, turning to face his men. Something either in his
words or demeanor made both men take a few steps away him and
Samantha wrinkled her nose. It smelled like something was burning
in the room and was she imagining it or did she hear the crackling
of flames? "I’m not afraid of them," Mr. Skull continued, lowering
his voice. "If they stick their noses in my business, they’ll get
their heads handed to ‘em."

Samantha thought it strange
that a French-Canadian should speak with a rough-and-tumble
Gangster speech pattern. She slowly reached into her purse, hoping
to find one of the small radio communicators that Lazarus had
recently given to all members of the group. There were two settings
on the device: one that functioned much like a standard
walkie-talkie and the other where a silent signal was transmitted
to all other devices, alerting them that there was someone in
danger. As she grabbed hold of the device, she accidentally bumped
her fingers up against a small makeup mirror, which slipped from
her purse and fell to the floor. She quickly swiped her hand out to
grab hold of it but it had rolled out from under the desk, bumping
against the shoe of Mr. Skull.

Samantha quickly pressed
the emergency button and sprang into action. She could hear Mr.
Skull muttering something as he bent down to pick up the compact
mirror and she knew that whatever he was saying, it wasn’t going to
be anything good. She rolled out from under the desk, bumping into
the rolling chair and sending papers spilling to the floor. By the
time Samantha was on her feet, she had already drawn her pistol and
was aiming it directly at the closest of the thugs. Without giving
him the chance to surrender, she pulled the trigger and a slug
slammed itself into his left shoulder, sending him toppling
backwards in shock.

It was when she whirled
about, intending to threaten Mr. Skull, that she experienced the
shock of her young life. Though she’d seen some strange things in
recent weeks, the image of a man with a burning skull for a head
had to be the most bizarre of all.

"Put the gun down, doll,"
Skull said. He gestured for his men to retreat out into the
hallway. The one who had been shot in the shoulder glared daggers
at Samantha as he backed out. "Whom do you work for? Nobody told me
that Newton had a secretary."

Samantha refused to cower,
even in the face of such horror. "You’re one sick bastard," she
hissed.

"Such language," Mr. Skull
chided, taking a step toward her. "I bet your parents would be
shocked, Miss Grace. That is your name, isn’t it? Now that I get a
better look at you, I’m pretty sure I recognize you from the
society pages."

"Can’t say that you have a
familiar face," Samantha said, cocking her gun. "I can’t even say
you have a face at all. Don’t come any closer or I’ll
shoot."

The flames danced higher
around Skull’s head and he laughed, a rumbling sound that rose up
deep in his chest and emerged through his skeletal teeth. "Go ahead
and try it." He lunged forward, gripping hold of the desk and
tossing it aside. It slammed against the wall, sending papers and
pencils flying.

Samantha was true to her
word, pulling back on the trigger. The barrel spat out hot metal
death, the bullets slamming repeatedly into Mr. Skull’s midsection.
He staggered back, grunting with each impact, but when Samantha was
out of ammunition, he resumed his approach, backing her up against
the wall.

"That wasn’t nice," he
whispered, leaning in so close that Samantha feared her hair would
be singed from his flames. "Look at me," he demanded. Though she
was terrified, she did as he asked, keeping her gaze as steady as
possible. "There was a time when dames like you wouldn’t have given
me the time of day. But now… now I have girls like you jumping when
I snap my fingers."

"It must be because of your
rugged good looks," Samantha retorted, sarcasm twisting her words
into something ugly.

Skull gripped her around
her throat, applying enough pressure that she immediately began
struggling to breathe. She raised the gun and slammed the butt of
it down against his head, the flames burning her hand in the
process. She did it again and again and the villain finally backed
away when a crack appeared in his skull. He reached up and lightly
touched the affected area, his fingers coming back with splintered
bone on their tips. "You little bitch," he hissed. "I’m going to
kill you for that."

Samantha’s neck felt like
someone had run it through a meat grinder but she could breathe
again and that gave her renewed hope. She decided to turn the
tables on her foe, rushing toward him and driving a hard kick into
his chest. The blow was enough to knock him back and he fell over a
stack of papers, landing on his back. She jumped over him and
yanked open the door, planning to deal with Skull’s two goons. To
her surprise, she saw Eun standing there, the two men unconscious
at his feet. He looked up at her and smiled but his grin vanished
as Samantha grabbed hold of him and yanked him down the hallway.
"Let’s go!" she yelled.

"But what’s going on?" he
gasped, struggling to keep up with her. His head jerked around as
the door to the office suddenly flew off its hinges and Mr. Skull
emerged into the hall. He glared at them, the hollow orbs of his
eyes moving from his fallen men to the fleeing members of
Assistance Unlimited. "What is that?" Eun wondered
aloud.

"Trouble," Samantha replied
and Eun had no doubt that she was right about that. The two of them
burst out onto the street and were inside one of the company cars
within seconds. Samantha slid behind the wheel, starting the engine
and slamming her foot down on the accelerator. She cast a quick
glance behind them and saw Mr. Skull slowly walking down the
building’s front stairs. He and his men watched them go and then
headed toward their own vehicle.

"Are they going to come
after us?" Eun asked.

"No. They have much worse
plans." Samantha smiled at her friend. "Thanks for coming after
me."

"You’re welcome. Glad I got
there when I did. Your neck looks awful."

"Could have been worse. We
need to get the Chief on the horn. That Mr. Skull character is one
of the most dangerous we’ve ever faced."

***

Walther Lunt stared at his
reflection in the bathroom mirror. The right side of his face was a
mangled mess of scar tissue, the result of an acid attack. There
were some in The Illuminati who whispered that the acid had done
more than simply scar Walther’s face: they intimated that it had
unhinged his mind, as well.

Those closest to the
German, however, knew the truth: Walther had been quite insane even
before that. His desire for power and his willingness to do
anything to achieve it were traits that had made him a valuable
member of his guild and he’d quickly risen through the ranks. His
one mistake had been a costly one, however. It had been his
decision to recruit the man who had become Lazarus Gray into the
secret society, inadvertently creating a terrible enemy.

Lunt turned away from the
mirror and strode into the living room of the apartment he was
sharing with Miya. Not long ago, he’d been killed in combat with
Gray but Miya had been sent by the Illuminati to revive him. Now
given a second chance at life, Lunt was eager to make the most of
it. He took a peek into the bedroom where Miya lay under the
covers. She was nude but all he could see were her bare shoulders
and her lustrous dark hair, as she lay facedown. He felt himself
stirring with lust for her but he pulled the door closed and tried
to forget about the pleasures her flesh could offer him. Like all
women who weren’t being paid to share his bed, she regarded his
features with barely disguised disdain and that fact soured his
lust, turning it into something violent and ugly.

The apartment’s telephone
sat on a small table located near a large couch and two adjoining
chairs. Lunt sat down on the couch and lifted the receiver, quickly
dialing in the phone number for 6196 Robeson Avenue. He wasn’t sure
if anyone would answer the phone or if he’d be connected to the
automated answering service that Assistance Unlimited possessed but
either way, he planned to leave quite a surprise for Lazarus
Gray.