The Peregrine Omnibus, Volume Two (34 page)

The Nazi sympathizer holstered his weapon and turned to his friends. “Turn this place upside down until you find the lockbox. Make it snappy!”

As Jonathan and Samuel went to work, Thomas moved to stand closer to Trevor. Thomas was a short and somewhat squat figure, with a thick moustache. He looked like he had some Italian heritage but Trevor wondered if it wasn’t gypsy blood. That would explain a lot of Thomas’s mongrel nature.

“What is it now?” Trevor asked, already anticipating some sort of complaint.

“We’re just wondering when we’re gonna get out of Atlanta… the longer we’re here, the more chance of us running into trouble.”

Trevor didn’t have to ask what sort of trouble Thomas was talking about. All four of them had discussed at length the need to avoid the Peregrine’s attention. The vigilante had a fierce reputation amongst the underworld and he’d become a prominent thorn in the side of the Reich, as well. “We’ll leave the second we have that lockbox,” Trevor said. “I don’t have any interest in facing the Peregrine. But if we don’t find that lockbox, our chances of getting in with Mr. Dee are kaput. He’s willing to take us back to Germany with him and he’s promised us all commissions in the army, but not without the lockbox. So get back to looking for it.”

Thomas saw the warning in his leader’s eyes and nodded briskly. He turned to the task at hand, roughly pulling open cabinets and drawers. The treasures that Nova had accumulated and lovingly stored over the years were roughly tossed aside, many of them shattering on the floor.

Trevor ran a hand through his thick blond hair and closed his eyes for a moment. In his fantasies, he was standing at Hitler’s side, helping the Fuehrer bring about the annihilation of their enemies. Money, women, and power would all be his reward… but not without that damned lockbox. If it wasn’t here, then where was it? And how could they find it?

CHAPTER IV

The Aerie

The Next Morning

“I think you’ll find this building has all the amenities you would require, plus a few you probably never thought you’d need.” Max Davies strode through the beautiful Peachtree Street home, looking like a particularly dashing real estate agent. The two-story building was a sprawling affair, with a finished basement that had already been converted into a meeting room, complete with table and chairs. Much to Rachel’s amusement, each team member’s logo was already affixed to the appropriate chair.

“There are five bedrooms in all,” Max continued, leading the Claws team into the kitchen. “So there’s room for guests, should you ever have any. You also have direct lines to my portable radio and to the police station.”

Nathaniel, holding his wife’s hand, let out a whistle of appreciation. The house was pre-furnished and was so out of his old salary range as a London police officer that it took his breath away. “You’re giving this to us?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well, it’s technically going to be in my name,” Max said. “But you’re all free to use it for as long as you’re a part of the team.”

Rachel tried and failed to hide her amusement. Dressed in a light green sweater over a green-and-black checkered skirt, the red-haired beauty looked particularly fetching today, made all the more so by her good humor. “I bet this headquarters has a name all picked out, doesn’t it?”

Max nodded. “I call it the Aerie.”

“Of course you do.” Rachel glanced over at Sally. “Boys.”

Sally smirked in reply. She was still uncomfortable around Rachel but the telepath was making an obvious attempt at befriending her this morning, and Sally thought it best to forget about her attraction to Nathaniel and move on. “I like it a lot,” she said to Max. “The house, I mean. The name, I’m not too sure of yet.”

Vincent stood silently at the rear of the group. He was dressed in a dark suit that had been specially tailored to fit his large frame. “The library was nice,” he said. “And I appreciate the laboratory you had installed. I look forward to using it.”

Rachel glanced at her husband, projecting her thoughts into his head. “I love how he says ‘laboratory.’ Lah-bohr-a-tory.”

Nathaniel’s eyes twinkled in response. Aloud, he said, “If we’re going to do this, I think we need to define our roles a bit.”

“What do you mean?” Max asked.

“We need a leader, someone who’s going to be our point of contact with you. I think it’s safe to say that Vincent is going to handle the dual job of being our science expert and our muscle in the field. I have experience in the field of detection and I’m also the team’s magical expert. Rachel will handle interrogations and would be a good fit on reconnaissance, along with Sally.”

Sally crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the kitchen counter. She wore slacks and a turtleneck sweater, making her seem a bit more standoffish in appearance than Rachel. “That works for me. And I’m decent at investigative tasks, too, so we can work together on that.”

Nathaniel nodded. “And obviously, I think you’ll be the leader.”

Sally’s eyes widened. “What? No, no. I don’t have enough experience…”

“You have more than Rachel or myself,” Nathaniel countered. “You have to take into account that you’ve been groomed to be a hero since you were a little girl. All that time spent with your father has to be taken into account. Besides, whenever we’ve been in the field, you’ve taken charge… reluctantly, perhaps, but you always step to the fore.”

Max watched in silence, letting the group work this out on their own. He heard a soft chiming in his pocket and pulled forth the small telephone-like device that he’d invented to keep him in contact with his many aides and allies. Stepping out of the room, he left the Claws to work out the remainder of the details themselves.

Sally fought to keep from looking directly at Rachel as she asked, “Does anyone have any problem with me being the leader? I mean, I’m willing to step aside if someone does…”

It was Rachel who answered, shrugging her shoulders and slipping an arm around her husband’s waist. “You’ll do a great job. Nat’s right… you’re a natural.”

Vincent nodded, his shaggy hair still obscuring most of his face. “I have complete faith in you,” he said gently. “I’ll do anything you to tell me to do.”

Sally thought she caught some underlying message in Vincent’s words, but she didn’t get a chance to follow up on them as Max suddenly burst into the room. There was an energy radiating from him that put them all on edge.

“What’s wrong?” Vincent asked, clenching his massive hands into club-like fists.

“A friend of mine is dead,” Max said, his voice sounding cold and deadly. “His house was ransacked… McKenzie says it was pretty clear that whoever did this was looking for something in particular. He was a collector of arcane objects and not long ago he asked me to hold on to several pieces of his collection. He didn’t think his house was secure enough to keep them out of the wrong hands.” Max walked out of the room, gesturing for the others to follow him. He led them up a flight of stairs and past the bedrooms. He stopped outside a locked room, with the stenciled word “Archives” on its surface.

“The four of you are the only people on earth besides myself who will have access to this room. It’s the storehouse for the odds and ends I’ve accumulated over the years as the Peregrine, and it’s home to the objects that Richard Nova gave to me, as well.”

Max unlocked the door and threw it open, revealing a stunning array of artifacts in mounted displays. Even someone like Vincent, who had traveled the world and seen many strange things, was taken aback by what they saw. The skull of the creature dubbed the Golden Goblin, a rock labeled “The Philosopher’s Stone,” and a scarlet cloak and hood that had once belonged to the infamous Doctor Satan were just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

The Peregrine entered the archives, his eyes moving over each and every piece in the room. He spotted what he wanted and led the group to four displays. “These are the things that Nova gave to me. The one I’m most concerned about is the Tegdaghost collection.” Max gestured towards a locked box, secured behind a glass case. He lifted the case off and set it on the floor, running a hand over the box’s lid. “An explorer named Daniel Cummings found a lost city in the heart of Ethiopia. He brought this box back with him and gave it Nova for safekeeping. He never said what was in it, but he warned that it mustn’t be allowed to fall into the wrong hands… and he warned Nova that there would be men coming after it. Specifically, someone he called Mr. Dee.”

“But it could be one of the other artifacts that they were after, couldn’t it?” Esper asked.

Max thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t think so. The fact that Richard mentioned this one specifically, and then he gets murdered by someone looking for something in his house… and it’s
not
related to the lockbox? I don’t think that’s likely.”

Vincent looked at the lock, a sturdy thing that would have been impossible for most men to even consider breaking. “What do you think is inside?”

“I don’t know. But I think we have to find out. Would you mind doing the honors?”

Vincent moved forward, gripping the lock in his right hand. He applied enough pressure to crush the bones of an enemy and after a long moment, the lock shattered into metal shards.

When the big man had moved away, Max flipped open the lid and the entire group crowded around, curious to see what was so valuable that a man would have been killed for it.

What they saw was quite shocking, indeed. Inside was a dagger, and its blade was shattered in the middle, leaving only a jagged edge. Wrapped around the blade’s hilt was a crudely-drawn map, showing what appeared to be the swamplands of Louisiana.

“I don’t understand,” Rachel whispered. “If this box was found in Ethiopia, why is there a map in it of Louisiana… and what’s up with the dagger?”

Max sighed, the look on his face suggesting that he was asking those same questions of himself. “I don’t know… but I do know I’m going to need help figuring all this out.” He looked expectantly at Sally, who realized that he was silently asking her to take a stand.

Revenant thought for a moment and then took charge, grateful that Max was deferring to her at this point. He was obviously the one who was ultimately in control of the group’s direction, but if she was really going to be the field leader, she couldn’t have him hovering over her, causing everyone to look to him for confirmation of her orders. “I’ll go with Max, and I want Rachel and Vincent to come along, too. Nathaniel—you’ll stay here and try to use your magic to figure out what’s going on with this dagger and the map. You’re the only one who might be able to do that.”

“And what are
we
going to do exactly?” Esper asked, not happy to be leaving her husband behind but not willing to cause a row over it.

Sally glanced over at Max, who merely nodded for her to continue. “I want to see the crime scene. I’m not sure how your powers work exactly, but you might be able to sense some residual psychic impressions while Max and I will focus on the actual hunting for clues approach. We might be able to track the men who killed Mr. Nova… I’m sure they’d have some answers for us.”

“And me?” Vincent inquired.

Sally grinned. “You’re there to beat up the bad guys, Vincent. If they show up again, I expect you to put the fear of God into them.”

Vincent smiled from beneath his hair. “Oh, I’ll do that for you, don’t worry.”

CHAPTER V

Mr. Dee

The fat man with the piggy eyes stared out at the small group before him. He wore a butcher’s apron, stained with blood. His hair was straw-colored and stuck out in places, looking like the unkempt end of a broom. “The thing about impaling a woman and keeping her alive is that you really need a consensual partner. I know what you’re thinking… where in the hell are you going to find a girl like that? But there are women who have the desires for this, trust me on that. Anyway, the impaling spit can’t pierce the heart or your evening is over and the fun is spoiled. This means that the impalee must be willing to manipulate her body in some way, as the spit is going to be too rigid for you to guide yourself. The girl in question is going to be able to feel where the spit is at all times—very well, I might add!—and should be able to move around a bit to guide it upwards and out. Obviously, pain is going to be an issue here… If she’s not able to handle pain very well, you might want to have her take some opium before beginning. Otherwise, I recommend morphine or heroine. Please don’t try any sort of nerve blocker unless you’re trained in such a thing, otherwise your partner is going to expire too soon.”

James McIntyre listened to every word, his heart hammering in his chest. His erection pressed painfully against the front of his slacks and he found that his mouth was dry. He’d had cannibalism fantasies since his earliest days, but it had taken Mr. Dee to bring him together with others who had similar interests. Before that, it had remained a dirty little secret, something too revolting to bring up around his girlfriends or friends. But tonight—tonight it was going to be a reality.

His eyes flickered over to the skinny brunette in the corner. She was a bit thin, with sunken eyes and needle-tracks dotting her arms. She wore only a leather harness that left her breasts and genitals exposed, but she didn’t look very embarrassed by her nudity. In fact, she didn’t look very aware of her surroundings at all. She just sat there quietly while the fat man with the piggy eyes talked about slicing her into meal-sized portions.

“Are you excited, James?”

The whispered voice to his left made James jump. He looked guiltily over at the guy next to him, seeing an intense look in the man’s eyes. The brown-haired male wasn’t much older than James—maybe in his mid- to late twenties—but he had an air about him that made him seem so much worldlier. “Yes,” he said in hushed, embarrassed tones. “Thank you so much for this, Mr. Dee. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Mr. Dee laughed gently and squeezed James’s shoulder. They were two among nearly a dozen men, all shifting from foot to foot with nervous excitement. Only Dee and the fat man with the piggy eyes seemed truly calm. They acted as if they did this two or three times a day. James wondered if they did. “Believe me, I know,” Dee said. He smoothed down the front of his black military uniform. James thought it was a bit too similar to the clothing that officers of the S.S. wore but he didn’t really care. Dee could be a hardcore Nazi and it didn’t matter. “So,” Dee said, “what part are you most looking forward to?”