A car pulling into the condo parking lot caught his eye. "Can I borrow that?" he asked, pointing to the spotting scope.
"Sure. What's up?"
Derrick took the scope without answering and focused it on the car. It had pulled up next to the cop car they'd spotted earlier, and with the scope he could see the occupants. Jasper and Willis. He lowered the scope and handed it back. The fuckers who put the warrant out on me.
"Nothing. Just the cops checking up on each other. Probably delivering donuts."
The two men chuckled. Their opinion of police was the one thing all three of them shared.
"Look, you don't need me for this, and I've got something I have to do." Derrick turned and started for the door.
"You're not going out on your own, Mister Penningly." It wasn't a question. Minder One's hand drifted to the Taser at his belt. At least he wasn't reaching for a real gun.
"I'm leaving." Derrick glared back at the two meatheads and curled a lip in loathing. "I'll be back in an hour, and you can tell your bosses I was a good boy."
"We can't let you do that." Minder One pulled the Taser, though it wasn't quite aimed at Derrick. Minder Two still had the rifle in his hands, but it was pointed at the roof.
"If you try to stop me, you'll have a whole hell of a lot more to explain to your boss." Derrick narrowed his dragon eyes at the two. "Like how I took that thing away from you and stuck it up your ass."
"If you think you can intimidate—"
Embracing the instincts of the dragon, Derrick lunged.
Minder One raised the Taser and fired. He was quick, and his aim was good, but not good enough. Derrick twisted and watched the two darts fly past. By the time Minder Two raised the rifle, he'd ripped the tendons out of the other man's arm, sending the Taser and three fingers flying. His next blow caught the soldier on the corner of his jaw, just below his ear. His claws struck bone, and the man's entire lower jaw peeled away, blood, meat and shattered bone spraying in an arc as he spun around in a full circle.
Laser light flashed past Derrick's face and he dodged. The report of the sniper rifle hammered his ear despite the silencer. The bullet brushed past him and gouged a hand-sized divot from the concrete. Derrick dodged back and plunged his claws into the Kevlar vest covering Minder One's back. The man was still alive, but wouldn't be for long. The rifle cracked again, and the soon-to-be corpse jerked with the impact. Something grazed Derrick's hip, and he realized that the assassin was shooting through his former partner in hopes of putting a bullet in him.
Holding the twitching form of the dying man like a shield, Derrick backed up, crouching as low as he could. Another crack, and something struck him in the chest. The high-powered rifle had punched through the man's body armor, but didn't have much energy left. It felt like a punch, not a gunshot wound.
One more round hit before he reached the edge of the roof, this one spraying blood and bits of the man's spinal column over Derrick's face. The crimson spray tasted like a rare steak. He licked his lips, flung the body forward, and leapt over the edge of the roof before the assassin could fire again. On the way down, he heard the man shouting into his radio.
"Security breech! Security breech! Man down. The asset is on the loose. Repeat, Penningly is on the loose!"
Damn right I am, he thought, flitting from shadow to shadow like a ghost. And it's time to hunt!
Ah, the weekend.
Aleksi smiled below her ball cap at the bustling crowds. She was beginning to look forward to Friday night just as much as the teaming throngs of working stiffs. She moved through them, invisible in the mass of humanity, just another faceless street person that everyone avoided. The ratty old coat she'd picked up made the disguise perfect, but she longed for something lighter, something she could move around in more easily during the day, and she was out to do some shopping.
The pre-paid phones were a godsend. Hutch found his in his faculty mailbox in a manila envelope. She called it at noon, and he picked up on the first ring. She had to admit that it was good to hear his voice, but the news that Derrick had ripped up his apartment, specifically the exact spot where she'd lain on his bed, worried her. She feared for Hutch's safety, but there was nothing she could do to protect him.
Other than kill Derrick Penningly. Aleksi stuck to the shadows as she worked her way to the garbage bin.
She'd sent Hutch on a shopping trip. The bin was behind an upscale clothing store where she had seen the outfits she wanted. The image of Hutch going in and purchasing the two long niqab robes amused her, but he'd called her and told her when he was done, and where to find them.
With a quick check up and down the alley, she hopped up to the edge of the bin and looked in. Nobody was likely to care about a street person going through the trash. The bundle lay in the near corner, a big white trash bag with an X on the side. She lifted it out, tore it open and started stuffing the contents into her pack without looking. Something hard was folded into the package, and she paused long enough to unwrap it. It was an IPod wrapped with a tiny red bow and a tag that said, "Happy listening. Love, H".
Love…
She turned it on and flipped through the contents. Audiobooks on Zen, meditation, metaphysics, and yoga. She smiled and stuffed it in her pocket.
Love, H.
Shouldering her pack, she moved on, thinking about the phone in her pocket, about maybe calling him again, thanking him, but it wasn't a good idea. Not yet. Not now. She had one other thing to do tonight, one place to be at exactly midnight. All she had to do was decide where that place would be.
37
I still don't get it," Jasper said as Willis pulled into their parking spot. "Why the notes? He can't expect her to show up. Penningly's got to know cops are watching."
"I figure two possibilities." Willis shut the car off and pulled the keys. "He either doesn't think cops are a problem, or he's trying to flush her out. She might not show, but she might be watching to see if he does."
"That's a thought." Jasper didn't like it. They had cops watching the boat house, three apartments and two labs—a real strain on manpower—and had gotten nothing. He opened the door and got out. "Well, I'm for some sleep."
"You kidding. It's Friday night! Why don't you come out with Charles and me?" The driver door slammed and Willis looked over at him with a grin. "No gay bars, I promise!"
Jasper barked a laugh. "Maybe I'd have better luck if I—"
Two luminous yellow points shone in the shadows over Willis' shoulder, like a cat's eyes reflecting the street light, but too high. Man high. They blinked then moved, and he saw a glitter of gold. Hands at the end of long sleeves, fingers tipped in curved talons, raised to strike.
"Look out!"
Willis whirled into a crouch, reaching for his gun, but the shape was faster. The blow spun his partner around, and blood sprayed the driver side window.
"Marty!" The Glock went off three times in Jasper's hand before he even realized he'd pulled it. He clambered over the hood, looking for a target, wondering if he'd hit anything. God damn, that thing was fast!
He landed beside Marty and glanced down. Blood pulsed from between fingers pressed to the gaping wound on the side of his neck. His other hand was holding his gun, but it was pointed at the ground, his eyes wide with panic.
"What the…fuck!"
"Don't talk"! Jasper scanned the dark parking lot for something to shoot as he crouched beside his bleeding partner. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "Move your hand for a second."
Willis complied, and blood sprayed Jasper's chest. He held the handkerchief against the huge flap of dangling flesh and pressed it into the wound hard. Willis gasped, and clenched his eyes shut."
"Stay awake, Marty! Eyes open! I need you to watch! Shoot any fucking thing you see. I can't tend you and keep my eyes peeled." That wasn't exactly true, but it opened Marty's eyes.
"Fuck!" Willis swore, blinking against the pain and shock. "Did…you see?"
The bleeding was b
ad, but he could obviously breathe if he was talking. The blow had caught him just under the ear and tore off a flap of skin and muscle as big as his hand. The blood was bright red and soaked the handkerchief in seconds. He thought about calling it in, but the radio was in the car and their backs were against the driver side door. He didn't feel much like standing up, much less moving Marty, not with some fucking maniac with claws out there. Especially one who could move that fast. Besides, gunfire from the police parking lot would summon every cop in the building in seconds.
"Just a glimpse. Hang on, Marty. Help's on the way." Jasper kept his eyes on the shadows, looking for those yellow eyes, ready to put a bullet in one of them. He held the cloth tight against Marty's neck, trying to ignore the warm slickness soaking through it. "Fucking bizarre!"
"Pa…Penningly," Willis hissed, struggling to stay conscious. "Fucking…claws!"
"I saw him, Marty. Just be still. Hang on." He heard the commotion of police, shouts, warnings. "Over here! Officer down! Perp with a knife. Ambulance! NOW!"
He knew it hadn't been a knife, but he didn't think anyone would believe him if he told them their murder suspect had just attacked his partner with a hand full of inch-long talons.
Aleksi stood staring at the pyramid of Benjamin Franklin's monument in the Old Burial Ground cemetery when her phone rang.
Dr. Johansen stood in a room with a dozen telecommunications technicians and twice as many flat screen monitors displaying the grid of cellular signals that overlaid the Boston metropolitan area. Before they even dialed the number, they knew it was a cell phone, the carrier, and when and where it was purchased. When she picked up, they were already narrowing the search grid.
"Hello?" Aleksi said, walking around to the back side of the monument.
"Miss Rychenkna?"
"Yes. Who is this?" Aleksi stopped in the shadow cast from the street lights. She didn't recognize the voice.
"My name is Dr. Johansen. I work for the United States Government." He watched the screens. They had the tower her phone was connecting through. She was near downtown. He snapped his fingers and held up three fingers to a tech. Team three was scrambled.
"I assume Congressman Twain gave you this number." She peered around the monument, but the Tremont Street was quiet for a Friday night.
"Yes, he did. He told me you paid him a visit." A technician sent a command, and the overlapping cellular network switched to another tower. They started to triangulate.
"I did. Did he tell you that I want my life back?" She could hear the tension in the man's voice, like he was upset or multi-tasking.
"I'm prepared to give it to you, Aleksi. Or as much of it as I can. We're working on a cure." Someplace west of downtown, near Boston Common. If she was in the park, it would be open season. Johansen snapped his fingers and called in another team.
"Are you going to cure Derrick Penningly, too?" She let a little of her temper slip into her voice.
"Derrick has been very cooperative, Aleksi. He's given us a lot." The tech switched towers again, and the triangulation kicked in. She was on the east side of the park.
"Did he tell you he killed Bob Tomlin?" She heard a click and looked at the phone's screen. Two bars? She'd had a four-bar connection all night. Trying to find me?
"He said you killed Mister Tomlin, but that is not the issue." They had her. She was on Tremont or Park, near the transit station. "I'm prepared to give you amnesty for any crime you might have committed if you come in."
"Since I haven't committed any crimes, that's a pretty empty offer, Dr. Johansen." His voice was even more stressed now. She scanned the street, listened…nothing.
"What about a cure for your condition? Do you want that?" He signaled for the two teams to converge from the north and the south. If she ran into the park, he had a helicopter standing by.
"Of course, I want a cure. Do you have one?" No way they could have progressed that far so soon.
"Not yet, but we're making progress. It might take some time." The teams were moving into position. "I'd rather have you in a safe location while we work on it."
"You mean a secure location, don't you? Someplace you can keep me locked up?"
"Derrick isn't locked up, as I'm sure you know by now."
"No, he's busy rifling through my apartment and threatening to kill my pet. That's not the sign of a stable, cooperative person, is it, Doctor?" She leaned out and listened again. Distant tires squealed, and an engine raced. She moved.
"Derrick has his foibles, but he's been cooperative." The signal was moving, just as the teams were converging. He gave the signal for them to watch for her.
"Derrick is a murderer and a thief, Doctor." Aleksi hopped the wrought iron fence and started toward the transit station. She heard the engines now, racing closer to her. "And you've been keeping me on the line so your men can trap me." A car was coming up Tremont, but slowly.
"What makes you think that, Miss Rychenkna?"
"Because I can smell you lying, Doctor." Aleksi crossed the street right behind the car. A burst of speed, and she wedged the phone in the gap between the back window and the trunk lid, then dashed into the pillared edifice of Suffolk Law School and listened.
"Change in direction," one of the techs said, pointing at the display. "North on Tremont. Fast!"
"Miss Rychenkna?" he said into the mic. No answer. "She's on the run. Converge and take her. Transmit all data to the teams!" The orders were passed.
Aleksi hunkered in the shadows, watching the car continue up Tremont, and listening to the two powerful engines whine as they raced toward her. A big black Escalade blasted past, and another from the other direction crossed up to block the street in front of the car. Men piled out of both vehicles, weapons drawn, laser light flicking in little red dots on the car.
"Shit." She eased out of the shadows and started down the street.
"Negative contact with target." The team captain's voice cracked over the situation room's speakers. "We found the phone. She put it on a passing car."
Johansen looked at the map. "The transit station! She's going for the transit station! South on Tremont!"
Aleksi heard car doors slam and tires squeal. She glanced back, and the nearer Escalade was burning rubber in reverse. The vehicle suddenly jinked and slid sideways, studded tires throwing sparks from the icy pavement as headlights wheeled around to track her.
She blinked once and ran.
The transit station was half a block, and the Escalade was gaining fast. She was on the wrong side of the street, and there was a fair crowd around the bagel shop on the corner. She dashed across and between the row of newspaper machines and parked bicycles. With all these people around, surely they wouldn't—
A beam of red light lanced over her shoulder and she dodged. Puffs of cement and shattering glass told her that they most certainly would shoot her down in a crowd of people. She dodged again and hit the doors of the transit station so hard that the glass shattered and the metal hinges sheared. She was past them before she realized that the doors pulled to open. Behind her, the Escalade blasted through the newspaper machines, bicycles, and the melting pile of snow, sending screaming pedestrians scrambling for safety.
Aleksi flew down the stairs, touching every fifth one. She heard the thump of boots behind her, and another red beam winked a jostling pattern as one of her pursuers brought his weapon to bear. She dodged as tile and cement puffed where bullets struck, the gunfire perversely quiet. She reached the bottom and dodged left, right into another ruby beam.
Something hit her shoulder hard, the impact adding to the momentum of her turn to spin her around.
The world wheeled in slow motion. Four men in dark coats, short thick-barreled guns held at their shoulders as they hurried down the stairs. The right side of the ramp and the gates to the Red Line, late night partiers passing through on their way home or downtown. The wall of glaring advertisements for antiperspirant, computers, and cell phones. The turnstile for the Green Line, a
nd more people, some looking up at the commotion.
An image of laser light scything through that crowd, blood and torn meat flying in its wake, flicked into her mind. Because of me… They were after her, and people would die because of it, because she was running…
Time to stop running.
She skidded to a stop and looked back, but none of them had come around the corner yet. A flick of movement in the shiny advertisements caught her eye, reflections of dark figures descending the stairs. The leader was three steps up.
Heat surged through her, tingling razor edges along her nerves. Images, memories, the taste of blood, warm flesh between her teeth… The dragon came alive within her.
Aleksi dashed toward the point where he would emerge. Two steps. Her feet left the ground. One step, and the muzzle of his weapon came into view. She reached out, the thin metal of the silencer crumpling in her grasp. The muzzle jumped in her hand, and something made a loud crack. She held tight as she flew past him, pulling the weapon with her. The strap over his shoulder came taut, pulling her back, and she cartwheeled. He was heavier than her by a lot, but she used every ounce of her momentum to jerk him off his feet. She swung him in a full arc and released her grip to send him sprawling into another gun-toting assassin.
Laser light flicked out at her and she dodged, launching herself at the startled men. Bullets chewed holes into the woman with the shiny new cell phone, sending plastic, tile, and cement flying, but not a single round touched Aleksi. The lasers told her where the bullets would go, and she spun and whirled to avoid those deadly arcs of light.
Her talons grasped a heavy Kevlar vest. She braced herself against the stairs and flung the man behind her like a ragdoll. He hit the wall fifteen feet away before he touched the floor. The last of the four swung his weapon in a flat arc, lead spewing from the muzzle as brass casings spit from the side of the mechanism. She crouched under the deadly spray and felt the bullets pass her by, then rolled and spun in a low arc, her foot sweeping his legs out from under him.
Dragon Dreams Page 33
