All the Rage

by F. Paul Wilson

  "You know exactly what! If we wait long enough they will show it again and we can watch it together!"

  "You mean the film of you… from last night?" It had to be that.

  "Yes!" The word hissed through clenched teeth and the pressure on his neck increased further. "The film you so cleverly arranged!"

  "No! You can't believe that! No, it wasn't me!"

  "Liar!" Dragovic shouted and gave Luc a violent shove.

  Luc stumbled forward and fell against the television. Something popped inside and the tube went blank. His mind screamed, He's going to kill me!

  "I swear!" Luc cried. "I swear by all that's holy I had nothing to do with it! Nothing!"

  "You and Garrison and Edwards!" Dragovic said, his voice low and menacing. "You thought you'd get me out of the picture! Well, we'll see who's out of the picture!" He looked around. "Where's your phone?"

  "In the kitchen."

  "Find it! Now! You have some calls to make."

  Luc glanced at his suitcases as he headed for the kitchen. So near… a few minutes more and he would have been on his way to the airport. Now he was sure he was headed for some lost corner of hell.

  15

  Jack hung up the pay phone at Eighty-seventh and Third. Nadia's mother still hadn't heard from her. The old woman said she'd left in the early afternoon, and was sure Nadia would have called sometime during those hours just to let her know everything was all right. She was worried.

  So was Jack. He tried to think of reasons why this should be someone else's problem, anyone's but his. Didn't work.

  OK. He figured he had scores to settle with both Monnet and Dragovic. But since he wasn't sure Dragovic was even in town, he'd chosen to settle with Monnet first. Now Nadia's whereabouts gave him an extra reason for a little tete-a-tete with the good doctor.

  He turned and faced Monnet's building. The late-day sun reflected from the tall windows on its western flank. Was Monnet behind one of them? Wished he could find out. He'd called the GEM offices but they said he hadn't been in all day; all he got at Monnet's home number was the answering machine.

  He'd parked his car nearby, blocking a delivery driveway that didn't look like it was going to be used soon. If it got ticketed, that was the breaks. He'd pay it tomorrow. He always paid his tickets. First off because the car was in Gia's name, and second because if he was ever stopped he didn't want the word scofflaw popping up when his plate was run through the computer.

  The air lay warm and heavy after the earlier rain, too hot for the black-and-white nylon warm-up suit he was wearing, but he sensed a good possibility that tonight's work might turn wet, and nylon left no fibers. Had another reason for wearing the warm-up: zippered pockets. The Berzerk was in one, and his burglary tools—lock pick set, glass cutter, latch lifter—were scattered through the others. If Monnet didn't come out, Jack was going to have to find a way in. Not easy with a doorman, but he'd done it before.

  Watched the Bentley idling before the front entrance. It had been sitting there when he arrived. He was wondering how much money he'd have to have before he even considered plunking down over a hundred large on a car when Monnet stepped through the front door.

  Excellent.

  And who was following right on his heels but Dragovic himself. Jack fought the urge to race across the street and put a pair of .22 LRs into his eyes.

  The Serb had sent two men after Jack, but that wasn't the problem. It was understandable. After all, Jack had turned him into an international laughing stock, and when you dish it out you've got to expect some to come back to you. But Dragovic's men had threatened—no, they'd promised to rape Gia, and even Vicky. At least the one in the back seat with Jack had, and Jack had known from the dark joy dancing in the guy's eyes that he meant it, was looking forward to it.

  Maybe going after noncombatants was Dragovic's policy; maybe it wasn't. Didn't matter. If the guys in the Beamer were typical of the kind the Serb had working for him, then Gia and Vicky would be in danger as long as Dragovic lived. Pretty much the same as leaving Scar-lip alive and well in the city. Jack wasn't about to tolerate either.

  He'd have to fix it… the alive and well part.

  But he needed to talk to these two first. One of them was behind Nadia's disappearance. Her fiance's too. Might be too late for both of them. If so, Jack wanted to know.

  Patience, he told himself. Patience. You'll get your chance. And it'll be a twofer.

  As a third guy came out and quick-stepped around to the driver seat, Jack hurried to his car. He followed the Bentley around to the FDR Drive where it turned downtown. Traffic wasn't so bad for six-fifteen in the rush hour. Made good time until they exited onto Thirty-fourth Street and began an excruciating westward crawl.

  Only one place they could be headed: the GEM offices. That could present a problem. While waiting for Nadia outside the building the other day, Jack had noticed a guard in the lobby. Looked now like it was going to be quarter to seven or later by the time Monnet and Dragovic reached the building. The guard would pass them right through but was sure to want to see some ID from Jack before he directed him to the elevators.

  But if Jack got there first…

  He spotted a park sign and pulled into a garage. As he trotted along Thirty-fourth he put on his gloves, boonie cap, and shades, then ducked into a doorway and quickly stuck the mustache under his nose again. He'd have them all removed before he returned to the garage later.

  He passed the Bentley within a block and easily beat it to the office building. He strolled into the lobby, all geometric chrome and marble, and went directly to the jowly middle-aged Hispanic sitting in the tiny security kiosk.

  "Hi. Did Dr. Monnet arrive yet?"

  The guard shook his head. "Haven't seen him."

  Jack put on a relieved look. "Whew! That's good. I was supposed to meet him here and I'm running a little late. Traffic's murder out there."

  The guard, whose name tag said GAUDENCIO, looked at him as if to say, What would Dr. Monnet want with you?

  "I'm gonna be doing a little work in his office for him. You know, custom electronics. That's my thing."

  The guard nodded. He'd bought it. "You doing work for the other partners too?"

  "Who?"

  "Edwards and Garrison. They're up there waiting for him. Sent everybody else home."

  Jack did not have to fake it as he rubbed his palms together with relish. "No kidding? That's great! He's already bringing some other guy with him. Hey, this could turn out to be a very good day! Want me to sign in?"

  The guard pushed a pen toward Jack. "Go ahead, but I can't let you up without clearance from upstairs." He reached for the phone.

  "That's OK. I'll just wait and go up with the man himself."

  After signing in as "J. Washington," Jack turned and saw the Bentley pull up to the curb out front.

  "Here he comes now." He winked at the guard. "Don't say anything about how I just got here, OK?"

  Monnet and Dragovic pushed through the revolving door as the Bentley pulled away.

  "Evening, Dr. Monnet," the guard said.

  Monnet nodded absently. His right cheek looked swollen, and he seemed to be a little out of it.

  "How we doin' tonight, gentlemen?" Jack said with a big, vacant grin.

  When neither acknowledged his existence, he fell in a couple of steps behind them and gave the guard a Who-can-figure-these-rich-guys? shrug.

  The guard's answering shrug said he knew the type too well.

  Jack followed them into an open elevator car. Saw Dragovic press 16, reached past him and pressed 18.

  Again the urge to pull out the P-98 and finish it right here. So simple. But that wasn't going to do it, especially with the other two GEM partners waiting upstairs. One of them had to know what had happened to Nadia.

  So Jack lowered his head and leaned in a far corner of the cab, watching.

  Not a word out of either on the way up. Dragovic looked stiff with anger, Monnet almost limp with fear
; the tension between the two of them flooded the cab. When they stopped on 16 and Jack saw Dragovic push Monnet out, he knew something heavy was going down.

  He sidled over to the control panel and thumbed the door open button to watch a little longer. They stood before a glass wall etched with the GEM Pharma logo. He saw Monnet run a card down a magnetic swipe reader on the right, heard a buzz; then Monnet pushed open the glass door. The receptionist desk beyond the wall was empty.

  Jack let the elevator doors close and rode up to eighteen. Once there he pressed the 16 button, and a minute later he was standing before GEM's glass wall.

  No way to bypass the swipe reader with the crude tools he'd brought along. Same for the electronic lock in the brass-trimmed door: it was set solid, and even if he did manage to jimmy it, the door was alarmed—open it without swiping a card and all hell was sure to break loose.

  That left the glass.

  The panel opposite the free end of the door was untrimmed and maybe three-eighths of an inch thick. Jack pulled out his glass cutter and knelt. Leaning into the cutter, he scored an arc into the glazed surface, starting two feet up on the free edge and running down to the floor. Worked the diamond tip back and forth half a dozen times in the same groove, hot work that sweated up his hands inside the leather gloves. Next he cut a straight score along the floor line. That done, he lay back and gave the section a quick sharp kick. Once. Twice. On the third try the quarter-round piece of glass cracked along the scores and flopped inward onto the carpet.

  Jack crawled through, then peeked into the main corridor to give it a careful twice-over. No visible security camera and no likely places to hide one. Good.

  He straightened his warm-up and went hunting the lords of Berzerkdom.

  16

  "You didn't eat," the girl squeaked.

  Nadia sat next to Doug on the cot and sized her up where she stood in the doorway of the trailer. She had a high-pitched voice and an undersized head, made smaller-looking by the tight ponytail she wore. She didn't seem too bright, and looked so frail Nadia was sure she could bowl her over and leap to freedom through the open door. But Nadia was also sure that even she and Doug together would never get by the pair of hulking dog-faced roustabouts standing a few feet outside.

  "I can't," Nadia said.

  Half an hour ago the girl had brought them each two hamburgers, two hot dogs, and large cups of fruit punch—all from the concession stand, Nadia was sure. Doug had eaten his, but Nadia could barely look at it.

  "You must. Oz says so."

  "It's too hot," Nadia said, hoping to keep her talking. The longer she lingered, the longer the door would stay open, allowing fresh air to waft through the stuffy interior. "And I'm scared."

  "Aw," the girl said with what sounded like genuine compassion. "Don't be scared. Oz is nice."

  "Who's this Oz?" Doug said, putting his hand on Nadia's thigh and leaning forward.

  "He's the boss." Her tone said, Everybody knows that.

  "But why did he kidnap us? Why is he keeping us here?"

  A shrug. "I don't know. But he's feeding you good, right? And he gave you a nice trailer."

  Nadia lowered her voice. "Can you help us out of here? Please?"

  "Oh, no!" The girl's hand flew to her mouth and she started backing away. "I could never do that! Oz would be so mad!"

  "Would he hurt you?"

  "Us? No, Oz would never hurt us. He protects us; he helps us."

  "Then help us. Please!"

  "No-no-no!" she said. She turned and jumped through the door. "No-no-no-no-no!"

  "Wait!" Nadia said, rising, but one of the roustabouts slammed the door in her face. Fighting back tears, she slumped back onto the cot and leaned against Doug. "What are we going to do?"

  "Hang in there," he said, slipping an arm around her. "We'll think of—"

  A clank from the front of the trailer cut him off. The floor tilted back a few degrees, then rocked forward. A chain rattled. Nadia rose and stumbled toward the noise.

  Pressing her eye to a crack in the board over the window allowed her a slit view of the outside world.

  She saw the rear of a pickup truck… Their trailer was hitched to it.

  Suddenly the trailer lurched forward and she fell backward. Luckily Doug was there to catch her.

  "What's happening?" he said.

  "They're moving us."

  "Where?"

  "I don't know."

  She had an awful feeling they were about to find out why they'd been abducted.

  17

  Who are they? Jack wondered. Houdinis? Where the hell did they go?

  He'd crept around, peeking in all the offices and cubicles. He'd even checked the rest rooms and the small, well-equipped kitchenette but had found no one. Only area he hadn't explored was a short corridor near the center of the space. He'd avoided it after spotting a security camera set into the ceiling at one end. Hung there for all to see. Why?

  Since the corridor was open on both ends, he was able to approach the camera from behind. Pulling a chair from one of the cubicles, he inspected the camera close up. No swivel mechanism. Aimed at the middle of the hallway. Interesting. Was it running? And if so, was anybody monitoring it? One way to find out…

  Jack used a roll of Scotch tape he'd borrowed from one of the desks and stretched three strips across the lens, then retreated.

  When no one came to investigate, he moved back into the corridor. As he reached the midpoint, he heard a faint thump to his left. He turned and saw a door labeled: conference room. The sign was small, the handle recessed, and the door flush with the wall. Virtually invisible unless you were on top of it.

  Conference room… of course. Where else would they be? He pressed an ear against the door and thought he heard raised voices—whether in anger or terror he couldn't be sure.

  He stepped back. Soundproofed. And situated in the center of the GEM space, which meant no windows. Good thinking. If you need an electronic-and microwave-proof room, you don't want windows. The door had buried hinges and a recessed pull instead of a knob. That meant it opened outward. Gave it a gentle pull to test it. Wouldn't budge. Probably secured by a bolt on the inside.

  Jack leaned back to consider his options. Can't kick down a door that opens out… didn't come prepared for this… have to improvise…

  So what materials did he have at hand?

  Took him about a minute to shape a rough plan.

  Slipped back to the file room and rock-walked one of the smaller cabinets down to the door; then he returned to the kitchenette and picked through the utensil drawer until he found what he wanted.

  18

  "Lies!" Dragovic screamed, pounding the table with both fists. "You think I am stupid?"

  How do I convince him? Luc thought as he cowered between Brad and Kent. Dragovic stood on the far side of the table, his back to the door, glaring at them like a maniac. He'd forced Luc to call an emergency meeting with his partners, telling them to clear both floors of all personnel.

  And now he had the three of them trapped in this stifling room.

  We are three, Luc thought. Why should we fear this one man? He may be armed, but after his arrest on multiple weapons charges last night he may be wary of carrying a pistol. The odds are on our side. If I give the word, the three of us could attack him…

  He glanced left and right at his two partners: sweat rolled off Kent in buckets, soaking his collar, spreading dark stains from his underarms; and Brad was almost in tears.

  Then again, maybe not…

  "You've got to believe us!" Brad cried.

  Dragovic's lips curled with scorn. "A strange creature gives us Loki, and now you say it's dying? I am to believe that?"

  "Christ, please, yes!" Kent said. "If we were going to make up a story, we wouldn't make up something as crazy as that!"

  Luc had hoped the unhappy truth about the creature would turn Dragovic from his paranoid fantasy, but it had only incensed him.

  "I can sh
ow you the creature," Luc said. "You can see with your own eyes."

  "Another trick!"

  "No tricks. You'll see it; then you'll believe. And then you'll understand that it was not us who plotted against you. Think: why would we be trying to steal the Loki trade from you when there will be no more Loki?"

  Dragovic stared at him for a few heartbeats, a flicker of doubt in his raging eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by a knocking sound.

  Everyone froze, listening. It came again.

  Someone was pounding on the door.

  Luc stepped away from the desk to the security console and turned on the hallway monitor. The screen lit but the image was blurred. Someone was standing outside the door but Luc could not identify him.

  Dragovic motioned Brad toward the door. "See who it is!" he said, stepping away. "And no tricks!"

  Luc noted with relief that he did not pull a weapon, a good indication that he didn't have one.

  Brad pressed the intercom button next to the door. "Wh-who is it?" His voice would play through a speaker in the hallway ceiling above the door.

  The reply was garbled… something about "security service" and "malfunction."

  On the monitor, the blurred image of the man was waving at the camera. What security service? Luc wondered. And how did he get up here?

  Dragovic pushed Brad away from the intercom and pressed the button. "Go away. We are busy. Come back tomorrow."

  Another garbled reply, but one phrase came through loud and clear: "… the room may be bugged."

  "What?" A chorus from four throats.

  "More of your tricks?" Dragovic snarled, glaring at Luc. He turned to Brad. "Open it!"

  Before Luc could protest, Brad's trembling hand fumbled the bolt back. He pushed on the door, and then things happened too fast.

  The door was violently pulled open, almost catapulting Brad into the hall; then he suddenly reversed direction, stumbling backward against the conference table as if he'd been shoved.