Portals in Time 1

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Portals in Time 1 Page 10

by Michael Beals


  “Hitler was a fool and a drug addict. God placed Hades as sovereign of the Underworld with the ability to erase all here with a mere thought. I might be mistaken, but I believe there is a slight difference between the two.”

  “Oh, father, stop being so melodramatic…”

  Pernass stared at her for a moment, then, drawing a deep breath, picked up the phone and punched in a number. It rang for a long time; perhaps Hades was down at the stables, but it was eventually answered.

  Pernass drew in another breath. “Your Highness, I’m sorry to bother you, but…”

  Slumping into a comfortable chair, Kat listened as her stepfather explained the situation. She had never heard him speak so politely, or look so pale. It was hard to understand. In her experience, Hades had been easy to talk to. Then again, perhaps he didn’t particularly like Pernass. Maybe Hades knew that her stepfather had once shot a horse. That would have been despicable in Hades’ books.

  Eventually, Pernass put the phone down, he didn’t look happy, and it was a while before he spoke.

  “We have permission. Steel can take his holiday. But he’s only allowed three days, and he must wear a radio tag so that we can find him if he tries to escape. If you get Steel to call me, I’ll organize it with the Gypsies.”

  “The Gypsies?”

  “They’re a government organization. We used them to track down escapees. They have a secret headquarters in the Catskills. They’re the only people who can go back to Earth whenever they want.”

  “So we’re set. We can go to the mines.”

  “You’re set. I’ll leave it to you to call Steel, and arrange everything, but I want you to stay in contact. I’ve been asked to make sure you’re safe, but that won’t be very easy if you’re at the mines. Please, Kat, please, don’t do anything stupid. You know how prone you are to getting into trouble.”

  It was dark when they left the Chrysler Building, so they stopped off at one of the many diners in New York City. Dore was delighted. He loved American food and had developed quite an appetite after everything that had happened. Calling Steel from a payphone to give him the good news, Kat agreed to pick up the fake documents in the morning. There were special trains to the mines, but Steel recommended that they fly in. He would organize a private plane that was more in keeping with wealthy film producers.

  It was close to midnight by the time Kat dropped Giselle off at her apartment. And a little later, Kat and Dore arrived at Kat’s apartment. Dore took the guest bedroom, and they settled down for the night.

  After about an hour of tossing and turning, Kat dreamt she was in Vienna. She was driving the Bentley they had borrowed, and all the team was there. They wanted to know where Kat had been. Kat knew that she’d left them on their own but something had changed since she last saw them, but it was hard to understand. All she knew was that she was glad to be with Kat’s Commandos again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I t was blowing a gale when they met Steel the following morning. Passing pedestrians were clinging to their hats, and for once, litter was swirling in the air. Kat was in her element. Not only did she love blustery days, but she was also excited about going to the mines. Kat wasn’t worried about the danger Pernass had expressed. She had Dore to watch her back, and he was now armed with two big ass Colt Pythons, making him look more like a gangster than he had before. In contrast, Giselle was wearing a dress. Reasoning that if they were film producers, she should look the part. Kat was more ambivalent; packing her Elite uniform in her overnight, along with the weapons she’d been warned not to carry, she was wearing a sexy pin-striped suit, with a diamond-check sweater that gave her an arty look.

  They met Steel at Daphne’s Diner on 43rd street. It was packed with work-worn people and demons from the surrounding offices. Taking a window booth, they ordered breakfast, who knew when they would eat again and got stuck into the nitty-gritty of why they were there.

  “You’ll be flying into West Fork.” Steel informed them. “It’s not the only mining operation in Utah, but I know the head of mining there, an ex-Army Major named Hamish McInnes. He lives in the hotel, which is where you’ll be staying.”

  “There’s a hotel in West Fork?” Giselle said, sounding relieved.

  Steel grimaced. “Kind of, but it’s not like a hotel in New York City. West Fork really is like a small town from the Wild West. It has bars, hardware stores, and a local sheriff.” He smirked. “Not that he’s much use. McInnes runs West Fork, and he’s backed up by his personal army who all live in barracks.”

  “Where do the mine workers live?” Kat asked.

  “They live in tents and caravans. There’s a huge encampment west of the mines.”

  “So who comes into town?”

  “Demons, regular miners. Guys who like to drink and get rowdy. West Fork is an iron mine. It’s open cast. All those hours in the heat make some people slightly crazy, and they’re tough as well. But the people to watch out for are the demons. They’re supposed to be there for security, but since McInnes has his own private army, there’s not much for them to do except getting bored and cause trouble. Did I warn you about Rostock? They call him Billy the Kid.”

  “Yep. You told us,” Dore said, signaling a waiter for more coffee. “Why do they call him Billy the Kid?”

  “Because he’s a mean SOB who shoots people that upset him. I see that you’re armed. Unless you’re a demon, that’s considered provocative in a mining town.”

  “Then it’ll have to be provocative. I’m Kat’s bodyguard.”

  “Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “What sort of weapons does McInnes’s army have?” Kat asked.

  “They’ve got everything, handguns, assault rifles, home-made grenades. They’re constantly at war with the mine at Rusty Vale. It’s like the Civil War never ended. They’ve been at each other’s throats for years. McInnes is a northerner, and Jack Oakley, who runs the mines at Rusty Vale, is a southerner. They meet up every so often, but the war never stops.”

  “So, did you manage to get all our documents?” Kat asked.

  “Yep!” Pulling out documents from a battered briefcase, Steel handed them to her. “The flight’s already booked, all you’ll have to do is pay for it. You’ll be the only passengers, so it takes off when you’ve boarded. It will also wait for you to bring you back again.”

  “It’s going to wait for us?” Kat exclaimed. “But we could be there for days.”

  “Unless you want to come back on the prison train, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  Deciding not to ask why the train wasn’t a good idea, Kat changed the subject. “Did you call the number I gave you?”

  “Yes, I did. I’ve been given an address in Washington Heights.”

  “How long did they give you?”

  “Three days, and I’ve got to wear an ankle bracelet.”

  “That’s not bad. What kind of artifact are the Gypsies giving you?” Kat asked.

  “I’ve no idea. It won’t let me go into the past, so I guess it’s fairly basic. They’re giving me money to stay in a hotel, and they’ve warned me not to contact anyone I knew. Not that I would. They’re all old now. Even my kids will have grown up kids of their own. I just want to feel real again.”

  “Will you have all your… you know… bits and pieces again?”

  “You mean for sex? I don’t know; they didn’t say.” He laughed. “But I doubt it. It wouldn’t be allowed. Can’t have the living dead making women pregnant.”

  “Ew!” Giselle exclaimed. “That would be revolting.”

  Kat was about to comment when she spotted a demon policeman through the window. She wouldn’t have thought much about it; they were, after all, demons having breakfast in the diner. This particular cop was not only noticeably tall, but he was also climbing out of an expensive convertible Mercedes 300SL.

  “Wow!” she exclaimed. “Can cops afford expensive cars in Hell?”

  Steel followed her gaze. �
�Ah! That’s Captain Jacobs. He’s been on the Elite’s watch list for quite a while, but he’s friendly with the Mayor, and they can’t get anything on him. Then again, the Elites are fairly corrupt. At least they were until the latest Commissioner. There seems to have been a clampdown.”

  Steel was talking about Pernass. It was quite amusing to think of her stepfather as walking the straight and narrow after trying to kill Hitler, and then all the gold, and paintings he stole. “Well, I don’t suppose it will affect us.” She looked around. “We should be making a move. Going by DC-3, with a stopover in Iowa and Denver, our flight should take around 15 hours or so to West fork.”

  Nobody spoke on the way to the airport. Dore sat next to Giselle, and his behavior was quite strange. Kat had never seen Jock sit next to a woman he was clearly attracted to. He’d always been the tough guy, hurling grenades or blasting away at enemies. But Giselle was having an extraordinary effect on him. He kept clearing his throat, or crossing and uncrossing his legs. Every so often, Dore would gaze out the window, trying not to stare noticeably at her. It was as if he was acutely embarrassed and didn’t know what to do with himself.

  She glanced at the source of his discomfort, but Giselle was far calmer and collected. Of course, she was. She was a woman. Women had an instinct for men like Dore. They knew how to handle them, how to put them at their ease, or let them stew. Giselle was letting Jock stew, which meant that Giselle felt the same way about Jock. Kat wanted to laugh. Jock and Giselle were attracted to each other; it was so obvious.

  Paying off the cab, they made their way through to the domestic terminal. They weren’t taking a commercial flight, so there was no need for Kat or Dore to relinquish their guns at security; they only needed to present their Elite badges.

  The plane taking them to West Fork was an old DC-3, which Kat and Dore were very familiar with, except that the last time they’d flown in one, it had been full of bullet holes. This time the plane had comfortable seats, and it was heated. Moreover, there was a stewardess who immediately offered them something to drink.

  But all that comfort didn’t make up for the weather. A gale was still blowing, and when they took off, the old plane yawed around at an alarming angle, finally correcting itself when they turned into the wind, but even then, it was a bumpy ride, and only settled when they reached cruising speed. Kat breathed a sigh of relief. In truth, despite all the planes she’d flown in during the war, including the extraordinary Desert Eagle, she hated flying. Being shot at was less scary.

  She looked around. Giselle was in the galley, talking to the stewardess, but Dore was still in his seat. Getting up, she went forward and slumped into the chair next to him. Despite everything that had happen since she’d found him in the Irish pub, they hadn’t really had time to talk, and now she was curious about how he felt about everything.

  “How’s it going, Jock? Did you sleep okay last night?”

  Glancing at her, he put a meaty hand on her knee. “I’m fine, Lass. Slept like a log. I’m more worried about you. You’ve always hated your stepfather. Now you’re working for him.”

  “Four years of trying to kill each other, and it took Hell to bring us together. Kinda freaky, ain’t it? But we’re really working for Hades.” Kat changed the subject. “What’s happening with you and Giselle? I thought you were going to faint when she sat next to you in the taxi.”

  “I did no such thing,” he said indignantly. “It was just a bit hot in there, that’s all.”

  She laughed. “You certainly looked hot under the collar. It’s okay, Jock. I don’t blame you; she’s incredibly beautiful.”

  “She’s all right.”

  Kat smirked. “She’s more than all right. She could give Grace Kelly a run for her money.”

  “Who’s Grace Kelly?”

  “Very funny. You’re going to have to look after her, Jock. If the mines are as rough as they say they are, she may not cope very well.”

  Kat woke suddenly when the plane banked around. She’d been dreaming, and for a moment she wasn’t sure where she was. Reality bit when Kat saw Dore chatting with Giselle in the adjacent seats, but it was when she looked through the window that it really hit home. They were landing, and she could see the earthworks of West Fork spread out below. Vast swaths of Earth had been gouged from the landscape, smoke was drifting skyward from a recent explosion, and giant yellow trucks were ferrying ore.

  They were circling above the small town. As Pernass had said, it was a one-horse town, if there were any horses in Hell, in the middle of an arid landscape. Off to one side, she could see the barracks, and then, just beyond, what looked like a railway siding, a long line of railcars sitting in wait. She felt her stomach lurch as the plane leveled off and sank a few hundred feet. Unbuckling the leather satchel she’d been given, she pulled out the security documents to refresh her memory. She and Giselle were producers from a company called Epoch Films. They were in West Fork to scout locations for a gangster film they were making. She looked across at Dore and smiled. He already looked the part.

  The plane settled, sank another two hundred feet, and then touched down, and then they were racing down the airstrip at a hundred miles an hour, the wings bouncing up, and down on the runway’s uneven surface. Kat let out a sigh of relief.

  “We’re there, guys,” she called when she saw that Dore and Giselle were still deep in conversation.

  Dore waved a hand at her. He was still listening to whatever Giselle was saying. Kat did not doubt that Dore would look after Giselle. He was already entranced.

  Disembarking, they made their way across the tiny airstrip to the terminal… if you could call it as such. There was no control tower, just a single-story wood-frame structure that looked like a small barn. Two uniformed demons stood at the entrance, and, once inside, they were met by another, considerably less attractive demon, who curtly asked for their papers. Yet when Kat handed them to him, he barely glanced at them.

  “Could you point me in the direction of Major McInnes, please?” she asked, as politely as she could manage.

  The demon glared at her through bloodshot eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Why do you want to know why I want to know?” she shot back, already irritated before she’d even set foot in West Fork.

  “I’m security.”

  She laughed. “Well, good luck with that. We need to speak to him.”

  The demon glared at her again and handed back her papers. “Check the sheriff’s office.”

  “Which is where?”

  The demon rolled his eyes. “Are you new here?”

  “Of course, I’m new here,” she snapped. “I’ve just got off the bloody plane.”

  “There’s a company jeep. Ask the driver to take you there.” Then he turned on his scaly heels and walked away.

  Walking out of the terminal, which took all of thirty seconds, they found the Jeep parked by the main entrance. The driver looked more like a lizard cowboy. Dressed in jeans, dog-eared western boots, and a check shirt, an ancient, holstered pistol, draped across his chest, he was sitting on the hood chewing a piece of grass.

  “Do you work for Major McInnes?” she asked, dumping her handbag on the hood.

  “Yep! Sure do. You need a ride?”

  “Yep, partner, sure do.” she mimicked. “Happy Larry back there reckons he’s in the Sheriff’s Office.”

  The cowboy pulled out a fob watch and squinted at it. “Nope. He’s in the saloon. Jump aboard.”

  They all piled into the Jeep, and, moments later, they were bouncing along an uneven, dirt trail on their way to West Fork, a plume of dust trailing behind them. Having spent the war in the desert, Kat and Dore were used to this kind of travel, but Giselle was wide-eyed with apprehension. They passed a group of men marching along the road carrying military-style rifles. They wore black t-shirts, black pants, black boots, and looked like mercenaries... McInnes’s mercenaries.

  They were passing the barracks, row upon row of clapboard bi
llets, and Kat was pleased to see that the barracks had a large canteen. At least the mercenaries wouldn’t be piling into town. Shortly, they entered the outskirts of town, and moments later, they were pulling up to the saloon. It actually had swinging doors that she’d seen in old western movies. West Fork really was a one-horse town, complete with a blacksmith shop, a hardware store, and an all-purpose grocery. The only thing missing were horses. Only Hades was allowed to have horses in Hell, and they had to stay on the island.

  “Well, this is it,” the cowboy said. “You should find Major McInnes at the bar.”

  “Is this also the hotel?” Giselle asked nervously as she climbed out, clutching her skirt.

  “Yep! This is it.”

  Thanking the cowboy, they made their way cautiously into the saloon. They spotted McInnes immediately. He wasn’t at the bar, he was sitting at a table, and hard to miss. He was wearing a tweed jacket with a velvet collar, and a fancy waistcoat that had all the hallmarks of a Mississippi river gambler. His hair was almost down to his shoulders, and his golden Wild Bill mustache was practically glowing.

  Kat didn’t need to ask who he was, but it seemed polite. “Major McInnes?

  The man looked up at her, glanced at Dore, and then at Giselle. He twirled his mustache before answering her. “That’d be me. What can I do for you?”

  Kat explained who they were and why they were in West Fork. “I just need your permission. I don’t want to tread on any toes.”

  “You won’t be treading on my toes, Miss. Wolfram. Just don’t get yourself blown up…” he smiled a lazy smile. “… or shot. It’s a rough little town. Who’s your gangster friend?”

  “He’s our bodyguard. He goes everywhere with us.”

  McInnes glanced at Giselle again. “I can see why, but you won’t get no one bothering you in this little town…” he shrugged. “… unless you go provoking someone.”

 

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