The Adventures of Lazarus Gray (32 page)

Lazarus stood facing her
cluttered desk, his eyes traveling over the familiar walls. Several
tribal masks from Africa were placed above a crowded bookcase,
while a mummified cat sat perched watchfully on a nearby
table.

Kelly wore a long white
dress that buttoned down the front. She normally hated to wear
dresses or skirts but found that it eased dealings with men when
she was at the museum. Given her druthers, she would have traipsed
around in hiking boots, khaki shorts and a sensible shirt. Alas, it
was still a man’s world, even in the modern era of 1935.

"You can sit down, you
know," she said, opening a slim cigarette case. "You still don’t
smoke?"

"No, I don’t." Gray picked
up a stack of papers and set them on the floor, freeing up a chair
for him sit down in. "You don’t seem to be taking this very
seriously."

Kelly took a drag on her
cigarette and leaned back in her chair. She crossed her legs,
somewhat disappointed that Gray’s eyes didn’t take the bait. "Let
me get this straight. The person who burned down the orphanage is
actually a demon known as The God of Hate. This monster has
threatened to take your lover hostage and so that’s why you’re
here?" Kelly shrugged her shoulders. "We haven’t been lovers for a
long time, Lazarus. You don’t think he meant anyone
else?"

"I haven’t been with
another woman."

Kelly dropped her gaze and
sighed. "You’re a strange one, Mr. Gray. Ever get that memory of
yours straightened out?"

"Somewhat. I know what my
name used to be and I know a few details about my past. But most of
it still seems like a dream; like it happened to someone
else."

"What’s your real
name?"

"Lazarus Gray."

Kelly laughed. "Okay. So
the old you is dead and gone, then?"

"For all intents and
purposes. There’s still an organization out there that I used to
have ties to… but I hope to take care of that soon."

"Well, I’m happy for you."
Kelly blew out a long stream of smoke, her lips pursed. "So what do
you want me to do? Lock myself in my office until the danger’s
passed?"

"No. I’d like to keep you
at Assistance Unlimited headquarters."

"But you said The God of
Hate managed to waltz right in there. What makes you think I’d be
any safer there?"

"I’d feel better if you
were closer to me."

The silence that followed
was uncomfortable for them both. When Kelly decided to speak, her
voice was much softer and the confidence she generally exuded
seemed shaken. "Do you really think he’s going to come after
me?"

"I’m positive of
it."

Kelly ground out her
cigarette in a small tray on her desk and stood up. "Okay. Let me
go tell Daddy that I’m going to be going away for a few days. Then
I’d like to go by my home and get some spare clothing and
toiletries."

"I can drive you there,"
Gray said, getting to his feet.

"Okay." Kelly opened the
door and offered him a brief smile. "Daddy’s office is just down
the hall. Wait for me?"

Gray nodded quickly,
watching her go. He moved to the door and kept his eyes on her as
she moved to a nearby office and stepped inside. After hearing
Eun’s description of The Claw’s visit, he’d become more unnerved
than before. Threats to his friends and loved ones were the worst
sort: they made him feel helpless and desperate.

A small chirruping sound
emanated from the pocket of his coat and he reached inside, pulling
out one of the small radio devices he used to keep in contact with
his aides. To his surprise, the device was showing the numbered
code that belonged to Morgan, along with the extension code for
danger. Since Morgan was overseas, that meant his call had been
relayed through a number of different circuits before finally
arriving in the States. How long ago it had been sent was
impossible to determine.

Lazarus was about to call
Samantha and Eun when a loud crash came from the office of Kelly’s
father, followed by a scream of terror that could only have
belonged to Kelly herself.

Before anyone else on the
floor had even poked their heads out of their own offices, Lazarus
had reached the scene. When pressed, he was as fast as a cheetah
and nearly as graceful.

Unfortunately, no human
alive would have been fast enough to stop what was occurring. By
the time he flung open the door, gun drawn, it was too late. The
Claw had somehow walked straight through the walls, just as he had
back at Gray’s Robeson Avenue home. He had kidnapped Kelly and left
her father lying on the floor, a deep gash in his neck.

Gray crouched down at the
man’s side, immediately applying pressure to the wound. He looked
up as another museum employee looked inside. "Get an ambulance!
Now!" Gray barked and the man jumped to follow the
orders.

Even as he assured Mr.
Emerson that everything was going to be all right, Gray was
mentally berating himself for allowing her out of his
sight.

The Claw was keeping his
word so far and Gray knew that he had no choice but to play along
if he wanted to ensure Kelly’s safety. His eyes caught sight of a
paper hanging off the edge of the desk and, without losing the
pressure he was applying to the man’s neck, he snatched it up with
his other hand. The scrawled words matched those from the earlier
letter he’d received:
COME TO THE OLD ABANDONED
CHURCH ON EISNER WAY, ALONE, AT NINE O’CLOCK TONIGHT. DO NOT IGNORE
MY INSTRUCTIONS OR THE GIRL WILL SUFFER!

Lazarus tossed the paper
aside and fished out his communication device. He began speaking at
once, transmitting to Eun’s radio, knowing that Samantha would hear
every word as well. "The Claw’s taken her. I’m going to take care
of him but I need the two of you to board a plane and head to Paris
right away. Morgan needs help."

"But what about you,
Chief?" The tone in Eun’s voice made it clear that he didn’t like
abandoning his employer.

"The Claw wants me to come
alone, so I’m not going to be able to use you two. Morgan’s
overseas, facing The Illuminati. Without more details, we have to
assume the worst. Sending one of you might not be enough to save
him."

***

Morgan had long since
forgotten about the distress signal he’d sent. Things had proceeded
to a point where his thoughts were entirely shifted away from where
they had been. Louis had told him that he could take him to a
hidden location, a vault of artifacts where Morgan could not only
find out more about The Illuminati but also personal details
related to Walther Lunt.

It had crossed Morgan’s
mind that this might be another trap but he’d seen something in the
other man’s eyes that made him trust the fellow. Louis hated Lunt
and was willing to risk his own life if it meant striking back at
his enemy.

And so they had come to a
small chateau just outside the city. The grasses were high and the
entire property looked abandoned. Louis had told him that this was
one of Lunt’s safe houses, one of nearly two dozen scattered
throughout Europe. It was here that he stored many of his treasures
and personal papers. Louis had been inside only once before, having
accepted an invitation from Lunt himself several years before the
incident that had severed their relations.

Morgan had wandered around
the house before rejoining Louis at the front door. Assured that
there seemed to be no ambush waiting to happen, Morgan consented to
follow the other man inside. The house had been quite nice, with
several paintings that were probably worth more than Morgan would
have made in a lifetime, even at the generous wages provided by
Lazarus.

But it was what lay in the
cellar that had driven all thoughts about his friends from Morgan’s
mind. Louis had shown him a small metal box about the size of a
footrest. There was a knocking from within the box, a thrashing
about that intensified as the men approached. It sounded like
someone had locked a small dog or cat inside.

"What’s in there?" Morgan
asked, staring at the container, a sense of dread rising up from
the pit of his stomach. His bowels suddenly felt loose and
threatening.

"The truth about The
Illuminati and how it’s managed to become all that it
is."

Morgan frowned, not liking
the overly dramatic presentation. Even so, he sensed that Louis
truly meant these words and was not using them in an attempt to
scare him.

Morgan knelt in front of
the box and slowly unlatched its lid, opening it a few inches at a
time. When he finally saw what lay within, looking dried up and
emaciated, he let out an audible gasp and backed away, letting the
box lid drop shut. Though he’d only gazed upon the unholy creature
for a matter of seconds, he knew the image would be burned into his
mind forever: though the beast had looked half-mummified, it still
lived and the drooping folds of its skin indicated that in full
health, it would have possessed a bloated corpulence. The
creature’s head was pulpy and tentacled, surmounting a grotesquely
scaled body with rudimentary wings. The monster was vaguely
anthropoid with an octopus-like head. Sharp claws on the hind and
forefeet made it quite clear that this was a dangerous beast but
most awful of all was its fearsome and unnatural malignancy. This
was something that
should not exist
. And yet, it did… and it
fought against its own death even now, thrashing about in the box
that was its prison.

"What in God’s name was
that?" Morgan asked, once his strength of will had
returned.

"Cthulhi," Louis answered.
"The Star-Spawn of a great and powerful creature. They arrived on
Earth with their unholy master and most of them are trapped beneath
the waves now, all locked away in the basalt city of R’lyeh. The
Illuminati are the human servants of these ancient beasts. They
hope to be amongst the few to survive the terrors that will come
when R’lyeh rises from beneath the sea."

Morgan turned away from the
horrible box and the horror it contained. He wished that he could
talk to Lazarus right now. His employer knew a lot about these
sorts of things and how to deal with them… but Morgan was simply an
old con man who had gone straight. He wasn’t really suited to
dealing with fallen gods. "I’m not sure how you think this is going
to help," he said at last, turning his head toward
Louis.

"Because once you
understand why a man does what he does, you have a chance of
beating him. Walther Lunt and all the rest of them, they’re looking
to accomplish two things: the first is that they’re accumulating
all the occult knowledge in the world so that they can find the key
to unlocking R’lyeh’s prison. They want to raise it again,
awakening all the monsters that slumber within. But before they do
that, they want to make sure that they’re in positions of power the
world over. When the Old Ones return, The Illuminati hope to be
overseers for the human slaves who will be like cattle for the
monsters. In return, they’ll be granted favors and – hopefully – be
spared the full brunt of the terrors that await
humanity."

"And that’s why you work
with them?"

Louis laughed hoarsely.
"No. I work for them because they pay very, very well. It’s a
gamble, you see… I’m not high enough up the food chain to look
forward to the raising of R’lyeh. I’d end up dead or worse in the
New World Order. But The Illuminati hasn’t raised that city in all
the centuries they’ve been around so I’m taking the chance they
won’t do it during my lifetime, either."

"You know all this… What
they’re really about… and you still take their money? You still
work to help them?"

The cultist shrugged his
shoulders. "The world’s never done much for me. Why should I care
what happens to it?"

Morgan had holstered his
gun before unlatching the box but he drew it now, making Louis
tense. "Thank you for showing me this," he said. "It does solidify
something for me."

Louis watched him warily.
"And what’s that?"

Morgan walked quickly
toward the box, kicking the lid open with the toe of his shoe. He
pointed his pistol at the awful thing within and pulled the trigger
three quick times in succession, the bullets reducing the sickly
monster to a splatter of blood and goo. When the deed was done,
Morgan turned the gun on Louis, who quickly raised his hands in
submission. "Monsters need to die."

Morgan pulled the trigger
twice more.

Ten minutes later, Morgan
was outside the chateau, having busied himself by pouring gasoline
around the exterior of the property. He struck a match and tossed
it onto the ground, moving away as the flame sent the gasoline into
a sudden frenzy. He knew that Lazarus didn’t really approve of
murder – and that’s what this had been, no doubt about it. But
Morgan had realized something while listening to Louis: this wasn’t
some gang lord they were trying to take down or a criminal
enterprise, even a worldwide one. This was a war, one that would
hold the continued existence of the human race in the balance. As
far as Morgan was concerned, there was no murder in war, at least
not so far as it concerned two combatants.

And the sooner the rest of
Assistance Unlimited realized the same thing, the better off they’d
all be.