The information was a lot for Sid to swallow, but she felt a chuckle inside. The Drake was out a billion in resources. It would cost them power and influence. The dirty politicians were screwed because many of them would be out of jobs. And it was all on account of one greedy little SOB.
The snakes devour each other. How poetic.
Sidney eyed the little case Cyrus had in his hand. Another agent had delivered it an hour earlier. It had a coded chip in it, and on that chip was an account for one billion in bitcoins. “So, if the money’s hidden, how’d they scrape up a billion?”
“Huh. I don’t even want to know, but clearly Winslow had insurance,” Cyrus said. “He had names. I’m pretty sure if anything happens to him, then all of that dirt under the rug is going to be exposed. You’d think they’d kill Winslow, but it’s like Catch 22. He’s their lawyer. If he dies, then I think all their hard work is set back a decade.” He almost laughed. “One way or the other, a lot of heads are going to roll because of this.” He glanced at Sid. “So, are you sure you want to do this?”
A light rain began to speckle her rental car. The balmy day was unusually cool for this time of year. “I guess this is what liaisons do. Let’s deliver the mail. My car or yours?”
***
The plan was simple. Per the request of the Drake, they were to deliver the chip to Mallows Bay. If everything was in order, Rebecca and Winslow would be released, and everyone could walk away. Sid pulled into the Mallows Bay parking lot. She was surprised Cyrus had let her drive, but he was preoccupied with his phone. He talked. He texted. She wasn’t entirely sure who with. It seemed he had access to whoever was calling the shots, but the odd thing was—why was she included? Again, someone knew what she was doing before she did. It ate at her.
The brakes squeaked as she brought the vehicle to a halt at the edge of the Mallows Bay boat ramp. “Are you ready?” she asked Cyrus.
Cyrus rubbed his hands on this thighs. “Why do you think I let you bring your vehicle and not mine?” He coughed out an uncomfortable laugh. “I hope you got the damage waiver on this rental.”
Sid studied the choppy waters of the bay full of sunken ships. Now that she knew what she was looking for, her keen eyes could make out the faint outline of a road underneath the water. She peered at the edges of it, envisioning the deaders crawling up onto them. Come on out so I can run you over. “All right, let’s go.”
The car eased into the water, tires almost a foot deep, following a straight line toward the half-sunken tanker. A dozen yards out they were surrounded by the murky waters on all sides. Sid sat up straight in her seat, peering over the edge of the car’s hood. The hairs on her arms tingled. A gaping hole appeared in the middle of the bay. A rush of water poured around the tunnel’s mouth, spilling into a great vat surrounding the submerged road. It was a marvel. A feat of engineering or something else. Something unnatural. The road moved deeper into the waters.
Cyrus looked at her and said, “I think I’m going to vomit.”
“You can swim, right?” Sid asked.
“Yeah. Now why did you have to ask that?”
She made a little smirk and eased on the gas. The car’s hood dipped down, and in seconds, they were below the waters and driving through a tunnel of glass or plastic. It was something similar to what Sid had seen at the massive National Aquarium in DC before it closed. There weren’t any colorful fish, however, just glimpses of sunken ships in the muddied waters.
After they had driven along at five miles per hour for what seemed a long time, the great tanker’s hull appeared. The tunnel led right into its belly. She kept driving, headlights on, into the darkness until some lights appeared ahead. After another thirty yards, they were inside the sunken ship’s belly.
Cyrus’s mouth dropped open. “You have got to be kidding me.”
The inner hull of the ship gleamed with new metal. There were catwalks. Rows of metal shelving. A forklift. A Bobcat bulldozer. Several cars. Sid brought the car to a stop and turned the engine off. She and Cyrus got out. Behind them, a white cargo van with the Drake markings blocked their exit.
“Looks like we’re staying for dinner,” Sid said. Her thoughts drifted to Megan. I’m a lousy aunt.
The van groaned as the big man stepped out the door. It was Warren Ratson, mirrored glasses and all. Coming from the other side was his brother, Oliver. His chin jutted out from his long, crane-like neck. A nasty smirk was on his face. The two imposing men flanked them.
“Time for a pat down,” Oliver said, closing in on Sid. “Don’t get all excited, pretty girl. My sap doesn’t rise like it did in the good ol’ days among the living.”
She turned her head. His breath was like the rot of the dead. He ran his hands down her shoulders and over her chest and stopped. He took her gun and tossed it aside. “Wouldn’t do you any good against us anyway, but there’s still a few other warm bodies around.” His gruff hands rested on her hips. He swayed a little. “You know, I used to like to dance back in the day. I liked that Chubby Checker’s Twist. Ew, what do we have here?” He slipped out the knives she’d pulled out of Mal Carlson’s case. He thumbed their edges. “Very nice. I bet I could skin your eyeball with this.”
“Or you could cut your tongue out with it,” she said.
“Heh-heh,” Oliver said. “You’ve got spirit.” He ran the tip of the blade down her cheek, making a paper-thin cut. “It’s going to be fun watching you bleed.”
CHAPTER 34
Sid balled up her fist.
Oliver glanced down at her side and said, “Don’t get wise, little lady. You’ll only bust a nail, and I’ll bust you.” He slapped her hard on the ass, half lifting her out of her shoes. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
Sidney lashed out. Turning into a back spin, she drove her elbow into his face. It crushed the cartilage that formed the bridge of his nose.
Oliver staggered back. “What the—”
Sid drove her booted foot into his gut, doubling him over. In a cat-quick move, she leg-swept his feet, knocking him flat onto his back. She heard laughing. Warren Ratson held Cyrus by the neck. His fingers were crushing his throat.
“I could snap it like a chicken’s,” Warren said. He shook Cyrus. “What a fleck of a man.”
Sidney’s ears caught a rustle on the metal deck. She turned.
Striking with speed that defied his size, Oliver pounced on top of her. He pinned her down, clamped his hand over her throat, and pulled his fist back to strike.
“That’s enough!” A strong feminine voice echoed in the hollow metal chamber. “This is a business transaction. Not a bar fight.”
Deanne Drukker stood on one of the catwalks overlooking the main floor. She was dressed in black cargo pants and a sleeveless camo shirt. Her hips sported a pair of Luger-like guns.
Oliver released Sid’s throat and leaned back. He pushed his nose back into place with a sickening crunch. He took a big snort of air. He pointed his sausage-sized finger into Sid’s face. “I’ll get you.” He stood up and moved away.
Sid gathered her feet beneath her and rose back up.
Warren Ratson dropped Cyrus to the new-metal floor.
The flabby man fell to his knees and started coughing.
Sid helped him back to his feet and said up to Deanne, “I was hoping I’d see you at Ted’s funeral.”
“I bet you were,” Deanne replied. “Sorry I couldn’t be there, but hey, I just didn’t care.” She put her fingers to her lips and made a sharp whistle. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got things to do.”
A pair of upright gurneys with two bodies strapped to them were being pushed her way. On them were Rebecca and Winslow. Both of them had bizarre masks over their faces, something similar to what Sid had seen in The Silence of the Lambs.
“Looks like you forgot the straitjackets,” Sid said with disdain. “Is that really necessary?”
“The Ratson brothers have a twisted sense of humor,” Deanne said from above. “Which is odd for
deaders.”
“We’re not entirely dead,” Oliver said with a grunt. “Just mostly dead.” He rolled the sleeves up on his meaty arms. They were coated in mesmerizing tattoos filled with what seemed to be living arcane symbols. “Bet you ain’t ever seen anything like that before, have you, Sweetheart?” He gave Sid a wink.
“They say anything you see on TV can become reality,” Sid said, “so it doesn’t surprise me. Who knows, if you survive long enough, maybe you’ll get your own reality TV show.”
“She’s a funny one,” Oliver said up toward Deanne. “I can see why you like her.”
“Charming, aren’t they?” Deanne said. She walked over the planks of the catwalk and made her way down a set of spiraling stairs. Upon hitting the main floor, she approached, stopping in between the undead Ratson brothers. “They are quite the marvel. Bloodless but still alive, thanks to the supernatural and some arcane medical advances. How can you kill something that cannot bleed?”
“Are you a deader too?” Sidney said to Deanne.
The woman stiffened at the remark. Regaining her composure, she said, “No. I can still bleed. For the time being,” she said with a wink. “Now, I believe you have something for me. If all goes well, then we can part ways in peace. And Sid, you really need to get away from all this.”
“I won’t stop until I’ve taken you down. You can count on that.”
Deanne huffed. “We’ll see. You never know. You might just change your mind about that. I thought like you once.” She laid her eyes on Cyrus. “All right, Specs. Get the payment.” She patted the gun on her side. “And don’t try to be clever.”
Cyrus slid over to the car and retrieved the little silver case with the bitcoin codes in it. He tried to hand it to Deanne.
She sneered at him. “Open it.”
Cyrus complied. The inside of the case revealed a small chip tethered to a smartphone cable. He plucked it up and dangled it in front of her face. “I don’t think it’s dangerous.”
Deanne received it and plugged the device into her phone. “Bitcoin. Pretty hard to trace the source. What will the world of greedy men—and women—think of next? And the funny thing is, bitcoin is pretty volatile right now. But a few well-placed articles posted in the Wall Street Journal, and boom, one billion becomes ten. I just love how those one-percenters think.”
“Of course you would,” Sidney said. She was making a little small talk while scanning the insides of the ship. Her stomach filled with butterflies. Her hands turned clammy. Other than Deanne, the Ratson brothers, and the two deaders, there wasn’t anyone else in there. It seemed odd. There had to be more. There was merchandise everywhere. “I hope you enjoy your cut,” she added.
“It’s uploading to our account,” Deanne said, staring at her phone’s screen. Keeping her eyes fixed on that, she said, “Oh, I don’t do it for the money. I do it for the power. I do it for the thrill of it. It’s so exhilarating.” Her mouth fell open, and her brows buckled. “What’s this?” She stormed over to Cyrus and stuck the phone in his face. “What’s this?”
“Uh,” Cyrus said, blanching, “it looks like only a hundred million dollars. Look, I didn’t have anything to do with that. I’m just here to pick up and—”
Deanne punched him in the face. Whack! She smashed her phone on the floor. “Kill them! Kill them all!”
Quick as a snake, Oliver Ratson caught Sid up in his arms and picked her up off her feet.
Deanne then pulled out her guns and pointed one down at Cyrus and the other at Sid. “Aw, hell, I’ll do it myself.”
CHAPTER 35
Cyrus balled up into the fetal position and peed his pants.
Sydney could feel Deanne begin to squeeze the trigger. “No, wait!” she said.
“You had your chance,” Deanne said.
Out of nowhere, the unexpected happened. The trunk of Sid’s rental car, the silver Dodge Charger, popped open.
Deanne pulled her gun barrel up and cocked her head. “Check it out,” she said to Warren Ratson, who stood to her right.
“Okay, Boss.” The muscle-packed deader started toward the rear of the car. Just as he started to pass the hood, the car bounced a little. A tall, rangy man stepped into view.
Sid’s heart leapt.
Smoke stood tall. Dressed in black attire from neck to toe, he seemed to leer down at all of them. In his large hands, he held a monster of a machine gun like a toy. It was an M-60, just like the one Rambo used in the movies. Smoke had two bandoliers of ammo crisscrossed over his shoulders. He lowered the barrel at Warren. “Don’t move, dead man.”
Warren froze but managed to cluck a chuckle. “You can’t kill me. Go ahead. Take your best shot.”
Smoke pulled the weapon tight to his chest and took aim. He squeezed the trigger.
Buppa-Buppa-Buppa! Buppa-Buppa-Buppa! Buppa-Buppa-Buppa!
The first burst of ammo bored a hole through Warren’s head so big that you could see clean through. The second burst tore out his heart. The third left the undead man disemboweled. Warren Ratson staggered around on clay feet before collapsing with a heavy thunk onto the ship’s hull.
“Any more volunteers?” Smoke said. He pointed the smoking barrel at Deanne. “We’re going to be leaving, and you’ll be coming with.”
“You! You! You killed my brother!” Oliver Ratson screamed.
He was still bear hugging Sid. His powerful arms were squeezing her ribs.
She winced.
All puffed up and chest heaving, he rambled on. “You’ll pay! You’ll pay!”
“He might not be dead. He’s still twitching,” Smoke said. “Now, make yourself useful and get down on your hands and knees. Both of you.”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Smoke,” Deanne said. She had both guns out, one pointed at Sid and the other at Cyrus. The woman was filled with eerie confidence. “You see, this ship, it’s filled with deaders. And the only live person walking away from here will be me.” She tipped her head toward Winslow. The man was wide eyed on the gurney. “And probably him. I guess we’ll just have to skim our money off him. And of course, I’ll have to put a nice hole in your girlfriend.”
“She not my girlfriend,” Smoke said. His eyes found Sid’s. “Are you?”
Hands half up, she said, “No.”
“You don’t sound very certain,” Smoke said. “Are you sure about that?”
No. “Yes.” Sid glared at him. “This isn’t the time for that.”
“Oh, I think it is. I love to hear the famous last words of people who are half in the grave,” Deanne said. “Believe me, I’ve heard the worst of them. So cliché almost every time. They tell me, ‘You’ll burn in hell’ for this or that. Or, ‘I’ll see you in hell.’ I’d be curious to hear what the both of you have to say. It’s always so much more delicious watching people who care about each other go down.”
“We aren’t going down,” Sid said. “You are.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Deanne took a full step closer and pointed her Luger at Sid’s nose. “Mr. Smoke. Set your weapon down or watch your, well, wannabe girlfriend die. I’ll do it, you know.”
“You’re a murderer,” Smoke said with a dark threat in his voice. “And murderers have to die.”
“Oh, you won’t kill me,” Deanne said. “That’s why they picked you out over many others. Sure, you’ll kill the monsters, but you always spare the men—and women. It’s such a weakness for those who hold onto such lofty standards. That’s what separates the haves from the have-nots, you know. Conscience. People like me prey on fools like you. Now, set down the weapon, Smoke, and slide it over here.”
“You’re a murderer, and murderers have to die,” Smoke said again.
“Stop saying that!” Deanne said. She jerked her head. “I’m only going to say this one more time. Give up your weapon.”
Smoke set the machine gun down and slid it far away. He held his hands up. “You’re a murderer, and murderers have to die.”
“Ugh,” Deanne sneere
d. “You really shouldn’t have said that again.” She took aim at Smoke with her left hand and fired. Blam!
CHAPTER 36
Sid’s limbs froze.
The shot rang out, echoing loudly inside the metal hull of the ship.
Smoke spun around and fell to the deck.
Sid fought against her captor, Oliver, but he held her fast. Finally, she pulled her tongue off the roof of her mouth and said, “You’re evil!”
“And a good shot. Don’t forget that,” Deanne said.
“Not that good,” the voice of Smoke said. He stood on his feet again. His countenance was fierce. Stark. “You missed.”
Face contorted in rage, Deanne started to blast away with both barrels. Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam! The loud shots echoed all around. Bullet holes peppered Sid’s rental car. Smoke, like a panther, slipped into cover and vanished.
From somewhere behind the car, Smoke said it again. “You’re a murderer. Murderers have to die.”
“Deaders,” Deanne said to the two goons behind the gurneys. She motioned to Sid. “Seize her.”
Just as Oliver released her, the two deaders latched onto her arms.
“Oliver, kill Smoke!” Deanne ordered. She started to circle the vehicle, firing shot after shot until her magazines emptied. “Dammit!” She bounced the guns off the floor. “Dammit!”
Sidney noticed Cyrus was still huddled on the new-metal hull with his eyes squeezed shut. He hadn’t even cracked them open to see what was going on. Deanne walked over and kicked him hard in the back several times. Cyrus groaned. Deanne kicked him again.
Now, in front of a captive audience, Smoke and Oliver circled Sid’s rented Dodge Charger.
“I’m going to tear you in half for what you did to my brother,” Oliver said. He drove his fist into the car and put a dent into it. He crossed over the front of the car, shifting back and forth, trying to figure out which way Smoke would go. “What’s the matter? You chicken?”
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files Collector's Set: Books 1-10: Urban Fantasy Shifter Series Page 53
