The Snows of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 3)

by Ward Wagher

  “Three?”

  There was no response.

  “Three?”

  Again nothing.

  “Emily, get into your body armor.”

  “I need to go check on Gough.”

  “You can't go out there.”

  “What do you mean I can't go out there. Of course, I can.”

  “Gough would answer if he could, Emily.”

  She turned to look at Frank in horror.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “Okay, what's the other item you wanted to tell me about?”

  Smith and Stephanie sat in the van with the windows down, listening for traffic.

  “Right. You mentioned knowing the streets here.”

  “I grew up here, Cedric. I had no father I could remember, and my ma was too busy making a living to look after me.” Stephanie's soft sibilant accent fit in with the night breeze.

  “You've done well for all that,” Smith said. “What you don't realize is how tame New Stockholm is in general. I know there are rough elements here, but this is a quiet place.”

  “I don't buy that, Cedric. Do you realize how many people in this place see an unattached girl as an opportunity for free poontang? I don't even want to talk about the things I had to do to keep the letches out of my pants. It got worse after Ma died. But, I did what I had to do.”

  “And I really admire your depth of character Stephanie. Too many girls bargain away their bodies for short term advantage.”

  “So, I've learned to take care of myself.”

  “What I've been trying to say is that you wouldn't last ten minutes in one of the cities on Addison's Planet. And let's not even talk about the hellhole that is Victor. You are fortunate to have grown up here.”

  “Different, maybe,” she responded, “but worse?”

  “This is a civilized place. The thugs are vicious, but there hasn't been a lot of competition, so they're not very smart.”

  Smith drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “We're off schedule. If things don't get moving soon, we're going to have to call it off.”

  “That's dangerous too, isn't it?” she asked.

  “Can't be helped.” He pulled out his comm.

  “Homeplate.”

  “Four. Status?”

  “Still unknown. I think Gough is down.”

  “I'm on my way back in, Skipper,” Smith said.

  The early morning rain swept across the city, enveloping the van in a downpour.

  Smith looked out the windows. “We're heading back. The Skipper's under threat. That's my first priority.”

  “But what about the Data-Net?” Stephanie asked. “If we don't control it, we'll fail.”

  “If the Skipper is taken out, we fail too.”

  Stephanie opened the door. “We're less than a half mile from the University campus. I'm going on foot. You go back to Wilton Street.”

  “Get back in, Stephanie!”

  “As you said, I know this town. I'll be alright.”

  She eased the door closed with a click, and disappeared into the night. Smith stared into the darkness and shook his head. He started the van and moved it along the alley to the street.

  Jones' comm buzzed.

  “Two.”

  “Four. Status?”

  “Spanky's plastering posters all over the downtown. We're about done.”

  “We have a situation at the house. The Skipper thinks Gough is down.”

  “On my way, Cedric.”

  Jones slid his comm unit into his pocket and then flashed the headlights three times – the agreed upon abort signal. Spanky thrummed across the street to the van. Jones grinned momentarily. Unless you witnessed it, it was astonishing how fast a motivated Woogie could move. He quietly opened the back doors of the van and slipped in. Jones immediately drove off. The Woogie moved back to his position behind the front seats.

  “What emergency, Friend Martin?”

  “Trouble at the house. We're heading back.”

  “Almost done with posters anyway. Big surprise in morning.”

  Jones pulled out his comm unit again, and punched Smith's code.

  “Four.”

  “Two. We're rolling. Spanky was almost done. What about the Data-Net?”

  “Stephanie jumped out to go on foot.” Smith sounded disgusted.

  “Okay,” Jones said. “Meet at point Bravo?”

  “Makes sense.”

  Jones disconnected.

  “What is this point Bravo?” Spanky asked.

  “Smith and I mapped out several rendezvous points from where we can get back to the house on foot. The vans would be obvious.”

  “Friend Frank under attack?”

  “I don't know. He thinks Gough is down.”

  “What is this down?” the Woogie asked.

  “He means that Gough has either been killed or captured.”

  “Not good news.”

  “No, it's not.”

  Frank scanned each screen of the security system, carefully looking for Gough. The low-light vid pickups made the mansion's grounds look like mid-day.

  “I really don't have a good feeling about this Emily.”

  “We need to go find him.”

  “We need to wait until Smith & Jones get here. They're the real experts at this kind of thing.”

  “What about the operation?” she asked.

  “I don't know if we're busted or not.”

  “Spanky got done, and Stephanie's headed for the University. It's now or never, Frank.”

  Frank tapped one of his front teeth with a fingernail. “You're right. Let me get George into gear.”

  He punched a code on his comm.

  “Now what?” Liston whispered over the link.

  “It's a go, George. Get moving.”

  “That's what I was afraid you were going to say.”

  “We need you in control of the comm center.”

  “Right. I'm on it.”

  Stephanie ghosted between the trees and landscaping on New Stockholm University's campus. The lighting had been designed for ambiance, not security and the shadows were deep. The retinal scanner on the door to the campus data-net center recognized her and unlocked the door. She quietly slipped in and trotted down the deserted hallway.

  The scanner on another door admitted her, and she entered with a snort. So much for security, she thought. The night lights enabled her to see well enough to find the station she was looking for. The background noise of the equipment muffled her footsteps.

  Her passwords were still active in the system, and she quickly logged in. Nothing much had changed in the system in the three years since she had taken classes and worked in the University Data-Net center. She quickly added her login to the external access table, and then created an additional account with a Provost login. She added a non-displaying character to the end of the login. The human eye wouldn't detect the difference, but to the master authentication system, it looked like a unique account. Her back door was now in place.

  The door opened and the night watchman walked in. “Working late, are we, young lady?”

  “Yeah, I really didn't want to come in,” Stephanie replied, “but the boss would have climbed all over me if I didn't reset the periodic jobs. I'm just finishing up.”

  “I didn't know anyone was scheduled to be working tonight. I'm going to have to see your ID.”

  “Of course.”

  Stephanie reached behind and pulled the sleepy-dart gun from her waistband. The guard stared stupidly at the dart in his chest before collapsing.

  “I really didn't want to be dragging bodies around tonight,” she muttered. “One more thing.”

  She opened the security logs and erased the records of her access to the building and the system. Then she moved over to the still-open door, blocked by the sleeping guard. She stepped over him, then bent to grab his ankles. With a grunt she pulled him through the door, then moved easier as his body slid along the polished floor in the hallway.

&n
bsp; “Come on, fat boy,” she muttered.

  Frank's comm unit buzzed.

  “Homeplate.”

  “It's George. We have secured the comm center.”

  “Good work, George. Any problems?”

  “Not at all. The night duty operator was waiting for us. She works for Everett.”

  “Everett told her?” Frank asked.

  “Seems like it.”

  Emily tapped his shoulder and pointed to one of the screens. A group of five or six people entered through the kitchen door of the mansion.

  “I gotta go, George. We'll have a team in to relieve you at 6am.”

  “Right. That's what we planned. How are things going?”

  “Not perfectly, but well enough. I really need to go now.”

  Frank broke the connection. Emily handed him a dart pistol.

  “I don't like this, Captain,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. “Stand by to repel boarders, Commander.”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  “No, I just wish we hadn't decided on non-lethal security measures.” He looked at the dart gun in his hand. “My 45 would feel a lot better in my hand right now.”

  “Now's not the time to change doctrine, Captain.”

  “You're right, Ems. So, let's drop the lights.”

  She pushed a button on the console and all the lights in the house went out.

  “The lights just went out,” Jones said.

  “Dark,” said Spanky.

  “That means Frank's got people in the house. Let's go. Spanky, you wait here. We'll let you know when you can come in.”

  “It's coming apart, Cedric,” Jones said as they began a lope across the lawns of the Wilton Street property.

  “I hate it when this happens.”

  “No doogie, Dougie,” Jones said.

  Frank stood behind a doorway with his dart gun and night-vision glasses. He had counted six invaders. They were blundering around with pen lights. Frank took careful aim and put a dart in the chest of the lead, who stumbled and went down.

  “Dork!” came a voice. “Yancy's down, Jeff.”

  “What?”

  There was more stumbling about.

  “Dunno, Boss. He's out cold. Still breathing, though.”

  “Did he hit his head?”

  “Don't think so.”

  “Leave him. Keep moving.

  Frank slipped into the central foyer and eased up the steps to the second floor. With his night-vision glasses he could clearly see Emily standing behind the railing on the third floor.

  It's happening all over again, he thought. The killing and dying just never stops.

  The group blundered into the foyer. Frank eased to the rail, saw an opportunity and took a shot. Another of the thugs dropped over. There was incoherent shouting and the pen-lights swung around wildly.

  “Up there!” And a shot rang out.

  Frank heard a grunt and a thud as Emily collapsed to the floor. The four remaining invaders started up the stairs. Frank eased out and took two shots.

  “What the... there's another one!”

  Frank danced back, and away from the stairs. A hail of bullets cracked around him. He slipped through a doorway, and ran hard down the hall. He came to another stairwell, and ran up to the third floor. He quietly slithered along the third floor hallway, trying not to make noise. He heard someone clattering up the stairs behind him.

  He eased open the door to the central foyer, and was pinned by a flashlight.

  “Nice and easy, now. Hands up.”

  Frank slowly raised his hands. Someone removed the dart pistol from his hand, while someone ran past him.

  “Okay, Lady, just hold it right there.”

  A few moments later one of the intruders had frog-marched Emily over to where Frank was.

  “You okay Emily?”

  “Caught the bullet in the body armor. Okay, but it hurts like a son...”

  “No time for reunions,” Benjamin Chavis said. Let's get back downstairs.”

  Frank and Emily were pushed into the living room.

  “Into the chairs,” Chavis said.

  “Boggs found the security room,” a voice called.

  The lights came on and Frank blinked in the sudden brightness. Chavis began chuckling as he held his gun on Smith & Jones, who had slipped into the far corner of the room.

  “Looks like we made a clean sweep.” He waved his gun at the two sergeants. “Over here and into the chairs.”

  Chavis and his thug swung their guns around nervously. The third walked in.

  “They got this place wired to a fare-thee-well, Boss.”

  “Didn't help much, now did it?” Chavis snickered. “I don't know what's going on with you, Nyman, but it stops tonight.”

  Frank nodded. “Can't argue with you there. You just cannot stay out of peoples' houses, can you, Benjie?”

  “Yeah, well your fun and games already cost you one of your people tonight.”

  Emily audibly gulped.

  “Do I need to start taking out the rest of your people to get you to see reason.”

  “I think you will find me eminently reasonable, Benjie.”

  “Right, and your actions don't show it,” the mob boss said. “I'm just trying to run a little business and keep things quiet in Gustav. Why can you not see that?”

  “As I said, Benjie, I'm reasonable. Reasonable people don't let leeches like you suck their life's blood.”

  He snorted. “See what I mean? There's no arguing with you. Well, where do we go from here? I really need a good reason to keep you alive.”

  “That's assuming you will outlive me.”

  An odor of stinkweed and menthol wafted into the room. Chavis's forehead wrinkled as he tried to identify the smell. He suddenly spun around to look behind him. Smith launched himself out of his chair at one of the thugs. Things happened quickly.

  A tentacle snaked around the corner of the doorway, holding a ring-shaped chrome device. With the thwocking sound of the Woogie-Whacker, two of the thugs went down. An overpowering BOOM shook the room and Benjamin Chavis' heart was blown out through his back. The Woogie-Whacker fired again, and the third thug went down, along with Smith, who was in the line of fire.

  Stephanie stepped into the room holding an enormous revolver. She walked over and looked at Benjie's corpse.

  “I've wanted to do that for a long time. He killed Ma.”

  Spanky thrummed into the room. “SpankyStephanie saves the day. Sorry Friend Cedric.”

  Smith, who was immobilized on the floor was able to say nothing, of course.

  Frank looked over at Jones. “Time to police the premises, I think.”

  He walked over to where Stephanie stood looking down at the body.

  “Are you okay, Stephanie?”

  “Of course, I'm alright! Why shouldn't I be? We just cleaned up most of the scum in this town.”

  Emily stood up. “Gough. I've got to find him.”

  “No!” Stephanie said suddenly, and shuddered.

  The Woogie spun around so that his pie-plate sized eye gazed at Emily. He then thrummed over to her and put two tentacles on her arms.

  “Do not go, Friend Emily. Should not see.”

  “But I need to go to him.”

  “Friend Frank,” said the Woogie. “Not to let her. Should not see. So sorry, the Woogie. So very sorry.”

  Emily slowly collapsed onto the sofa and began to weep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “Emily, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I should have never let him go out like that.”

  Frank and Emily stood facing the small burial plot in the sun-dappled afternoon on the grounds of the Wilton Street house. She turned and touched his face.

  “Frank, I don't blame you, and neither would Gough. I don't know what I'm going to do without him, but you made him feel useful again. He told me several times he hadn't had so much fun in his life as when you hired us. And I have been
happy too.”

  Frank shook his head. “I appreciate what you are saying, Ems, but it's still my responsibility.”

  “Oh, stop, now!” she said sharply. “Your poor little me act doesn't become you, Frank. It's done and I will grieve. But life will go on. And, we took out the swine that caused this.” She stopped for a minute and cocked her head. “Well, one of them anyway.”

  “I would feel better if you would let me bring in a clergyman,” Frank said.

  She smiled sadly at him. “I don't have any more use for them than you do, Frank. Besides, nobody but the people here know anything about what went on last night. You need that advantage, and that's Gough's last gift to you.”

  “But the price was so high.”

  “Come'on, Frank. Let's go in the house and toast to Gough's memory. I didn't have that many years with him, but they were very good years. He was a wonderful man.”

  Smith and Jones stood looking out a second floor window at the two people standing by the grave.

  “I hate losin' them like that,” Jones said. “The Chief was good people.”

  “I just worry about what this is going to do to the old man. He hasn't gotten over losing Wendy. This isn't going to help.”

  “Mebbe we could slap him around a little.”

  “That doesn't work for this kind of problem, Marty,” Smith said. “What he needs to do is get his mind around a cause. You notice how he brightened up when Cambaert tried to hijack us?”

  “He thought that was fun, didn't he?”

  “His problem is that things move too slow around here. He doesn't have enough to do.”

  “This revolution ought'a help,” Jones said. “Cept for losin' the Chief, of course. Still embarrassed about Chavis catching us in the house like that.”

  “We got stampeded,” Smith replied, “and got in too much of a hurry riding to the rescue.”

  “I won't tell the Colonel if you won't.”

  Smith snorted. “I'll take that under advisement.”

  “So how's we keep the Skipper busy?”

  Smith folded his arms across his chest. “I don't know. I think this new government will keep him running around for a while. I just hope the local business people don't leave him holding the bag.”

  “Liston surprised me.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Smith said. “I was sure he was going to bail on the boss. I guess Miz Pamela put some backbone into him.”