Quickly moving into her new office, Strong had begun implementing many of the policies the previous candidate had campaigned on…as well as a few others that were… interesting… to say the least. There were the obvious things… voting against a very “Liberal” bill in support of transgender bathrooms… lobbying for restrictions on housing refugees in Brooklyn… Then there were the subtle moves, including support for a local group’s bid for a storefront near the Brooklyn Navy Yard, a group that was rather loosely associated with the white nationalist movement. The support barely made it into the papers, nothing more than a blip on the community radar, but taken with everything else, a discerning eye could see that Congresswoman Donna Strong of the 7th Congressional District in New York was a well-placed, card-carrying friend of Fenris… Sam chuckled at that… Wonder if they have tee shirts or key chains or something… Friends of Fenris… Nice…
And now Congresswoman Strong was launching her campaign for Mayor of New York. Another convenient accident had befallen the previous mayor and, while the Deputy Mayor was serving his public purpose, the scuttlebutt from City Hall was that Strong and a group of like-minded individuals were already running things. Everything was somehow connected… the politics, the deaths, the drugs… Sam shook her head, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She sighed, knowing the likelihood of him picking up the phone was slim-to-none… he hadn’t in six months, and despite the lustful clenches they’d recently shared, Sam didn’t anticipate Vincent answering his phone as she dialed the number and listened to it ring.
“You alright, Sam?” He’d answered. Sam was mute for a few seconds, the shock that he’d actually picked up the phone overwhelming her thought processes. That and the fact that his voice was making her panties melt off and putting her skinny jeans in grave danger of following. “Sam!!!”
“Vincent! Yeah, sorry… um, yeah…” Sam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m fine. Listen… Those people at that little shindig the other night…”
“The Bund Rally?”
“Yeah, that. How much do you know about them?” Vincent hesitated briefly on the other end. Sam could hear some muttering, then suddenly a voice raised babbling something in Cantonese.
“Sam?” Vincent cleared his throat before continuing. “I know a bit. Why?”
“We need a plan. And to get a plan, we need to know what we’re dealing with here. Can you bring whatever you have and come to my place tonight? I’ll make Ben call in and will get…food.”
“Eight o’clock?”
Sam exhaled with a whoosh. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until then. “Eight works fine. I’ll see you then.”
“See ya, darlin’.” As soon as that call ended, Sam felt her phone start to vibrate, the programmed signal for a text message. It was Connolly. She’d just left the subway station and was on her way. Sam took a final puff on her cigarette, tossing it toward the street as she saw Connolly rounding the corner.
**************
Sam turned a couple of pages in the large medical book in front of her before she glanced up at Connolly, who was approaching with an armful of large books. The librarian upstairs seemed to be expecting them when they approached the desk, and quickly motioned for she and Connolly to follow her through the Reading Room and down into “the stacks.” Sam stifled her amusement as they entered the oldest part of the book depository, half expecting to see a ghost or two as they walked past bookshelf after bookshelf heading for the deepest part that extended out underneath Bryant Park.
“Ordinarily, we do not let people down here.” The librarian had been a bit fidgety, but her knowledge of the underground area was vast indeed. Connolly gave her a list of books and the woman immediately began having the books ferried up from the more than 80 miles of subterranean shelving that they called home. Soon, the little carts were arriving with the books pulled from the second underground floor. The fidgeting had increased when Sam expressed her desire to stay downstairs to look at the books. Even though her argument was rational – that it was better than hauling all of them upstairs to the Reading Room, blah blah blah – and Connolly had agreed with her, the truth was Sam really didn’t want to go back up to the Reading Room because of what she had smelled when they walked through. There were several groups of werewolves scattered throughout the room, most seemingly engrossed in their research materials. For a moment, Sam felt a flash of fear… How could there be so many already? Even though the infection had obviously been spreading in the city over the past six months or so, it seemed unfathomable it could have spread so far so quickly without anyone noticing. College students, middle-aged professor types… Perhaps the drugs being spread were more important than she thought…
Sam turned another page. “So, basically, this new drug…is an old drug… Correct?”
Connolly set the books in her arms on the table and hopped up to sit beside them. “Basically. Pharmaceutical company in Berlin… Temmler, I think? They developed and marketed it in 1938. It got really popular among civilians first, and then somebody brought it to the attention of the Academy of Military Medicine.” She grabbed one of the books, opening it and flipping through the pages as she continued. “I guess those all-nighter Blitzkriegs take their toll, you know?”
Sam chuckled. “True that. It’s really just speed, though, right?”
Connolly nodded. “Yep. Mimics adrenaline like most methamphetamines. Wakes you up, helps you concentrate, reduces the need for sleep. But the other effects were just as important to the military. Soldiers who started taking it were more confident, more willing to take risks, better able to withstand high degrees of pain.”
“So, is this PERV-E different in some way from the old Pervitin?”
“In some way?” Connolly worked her neck back and forth, reaching up to massage the stiffness out. “In a major way.” She grabbed one of the other books in the stack, flipping through before stopping on a page one third of the way in. “For most of the war, they used the straight Pervitin. But towards the end, troops were developing tolerance to the medication, and some even died from taking too much, trying to achieve the original feeling. That’s when they developed a pill that they code named D-10. In addition to three milligrams of Pervitin, the drug contained five milligrams of cocaine and five milligrams of a morphine-based painkiller called Eukodal.” She closed the book and set it back down. “The stuff out on the street now, this PERV-E shit? Same thing.”
Sam opened her mouth to speak, but closed it quickly. Someone was coming, and judging the brisk pace and small stride, it was a woman. Seconds later, the librarian entered, her expression a mixture of annoyance and anxiety. “There’s a phone call for you, Ms. Connolly. They said it was quite urgent.” She stepped back, motioning slightly for Connolly to follow her.
Connolly jumped down off the table. “I’d better run then.” She turned to Sam. “You’ll be alright here?”
The librarian’s expression became even more anxious if that was possible. “Really, it would be better if --”
“Yep, I’ll be just fine.” Sam glanced at the clock on her phone. “If you need to run, go ahead. I’ll wait for fifteen, and if I don’t see you, I’ll send this mess back and head home.”
Connolly nodded her understanding and left, with the librarian reluctantly following behind. Sam could see she obviously wanted to stay, or at least wanted Sam to leave with them. Sam wanted to stay on though… The book in her lap was proving to be very interesting and she wanted to finish photographing the pages with her phone before she left.
The section was about the experimentation in Auschwitz, and that done by Mengele specifically. While the werewolves weren’t mentioned directly, there was a great deal of information about his scientific process. It seemed ridiculous to call the things this monster did “science,” but the truth was he was a decent scientist… His methods were cruel, but some of his genetic research was spot-on. Sam shook her head slowly as she snapped another photo of a page. She recalled b
eing horrified the first time her grandfather had said that to her… “How can you say that, Grampy? All the horrible things he did!”… And Ivan had simply smiled and said, “Yes, this is true, but a man is due what he is due. I never saw a man who took more joy in selecting people for death, and yet… he went above and beyond to save others… Life is not black and white, Nepoata… Sometimes the bad do good things, and sometimes the good do…very bad things.”
Sam heard a clattering sound above and snapped the last picture quickly. She closed the book and started pulling together the other books in piles. The new filing system was automated, and rather than using the old Dewey decimal system it relied on the size of the book to determine where it went. She put them into piles, little pyramids of seven or eight books stacked together, hoping her efforts for the librarian would not be taken poorly. When she finished, Sam turned toward the doorway, expecting Connolly or the librarian to enter.
No such luck. Two men stopped in the entryway, their eyes scanning the room quickly before settling on Sam and the pile of books on the table. Sam scented as subtly as she could, but the smell that had wafted in upon their arrival was clear. She remembered their faces and their scent… They had followed she and Lenny six months ago, tracking them downtown as they raced to Trinity Church to meet Vincent and Ben. “Euro-wolves,” she’d dubbed them at the time, as much because of their manner as it was because of their stylishly suited appearance. Shit, they looked like members of a Spandau Ballet tribute group, all trimmed hair and straight ties and top coats. They were wearing sunglasses as well, perhaps some poor attempt at not being noticed or recognized, like Sam couldn’t smell the Paco Rabanne and silk and fine wool from a mile away. In any case, there they were, and they stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. Sam knew she had to make the first move and it had to be a good one. Long-term goal, get out of Library…short-goal, disable Euro-wolves so that long-term goal can be accomplished. No time to call Vincent, so…
“Hey, you guys see the librarian on your travels down here?” Sam decided the best route was to just play it cool and snarky, and see if the exit window opened naturally. Maybe their manners were as good as their suits and they wouldn’t attack without provocation. “See the thing is, these books have to go back to their individual places on the shelves back there.” She jerked her head to indicate the direction of the stacks behind her. She picked up a stack, gauging the distance between herself and the Euro-wolves. “So… you guys wanna help put things away?”
The response was more cooperative than she expected, with both Euros lunging for her in tandem. Sam threw the books and turned quickly, sprinting back into the book stacks. She heard the books hitting them and, while it slowed them a bit, it did nothing to stop them. Not that she’d expected they would, she just needed time to get a head start. She ran past the old-fashioned card catalogue. The shelves turned inward after that and Sam took a hard right into the space between two of them, pausing to look back and see where her pursuers were. They weren’t long in arriving, but unlike her they slowed by the card catalogue and seemed to be scenting. She wasn’t going to be able to hide from them, even with the superior ventilation system down here. This was going to take some effort…
Sam crept back away from them, tiptoeing quickly down the aisle and around the corner. Still out of sight, she grabbed a couple of small books from the shelves as she passed and kept going past shelf after shelf. She could see the entrance to the underground stacks ahead… She didn’t want to get trapped back there… She reached into her pocket, pulling out a tissue that was stuffed in there and tucking it inside the book. Ordinarily, she would have felt bad about doing this, but right now book preservation was not high on the life-saving priority list. She scented the air quickly… they were close, probably near the card catalogue right now… Sam pulled her arm back and fired the book toward the stacks entrance. The book, and its precious tissue cargo containing her scent, flew through the air in a lovely arc, then banged against the ceiling and slammed to the ground with a large thwack about five feet from the entrance to the underground stacks. Sam stayed very still. She heard the scramble as two sets of feet ran toward the stacks’ entrance. As soon as their feet slowed, Sam moved quickly, her feet barely making a sound as she hurriedly retraced her steps.
When she got to the edge of the shelf near the card catalogue, she peeked carefully around the corner. Both Euro-wolves were still near the entrance, and one was craning to look beyond into the stacks, perhaps hoping that she had run in there and he would spot her. The other Euro was looking back toward the old stacks. Sam knew in order to get to the exit and get out, she needed to distract him. She quickly prepped another book, this time without tissue cargo, and threw it up and over the shelves toward the corner she had just come from. It cleared two of the shelves, thwacking to the ground like the other did. She watched as the Euros both turned and made a beeline toward the sound… Out of sight.
Sam counted to three, long enough for them to reach the book, then she took off. She ran down the aisle and through the exit, climbing the stairs two at a time.
As soon as she reached the top of the stairs, Sam started running full tilt. She had to go through the Reading Room to get out and she remembered scenting a number of werewolves when she was there earlier. No time to linger, though. She raced through the Reading Room, past surprised students, researchers and librarians. She didn’t stop at the desk, running on and exiting the Library.
Sam didn’t stop until she reached the Bryant Park subway station. She stumbled onto the train and sat down, a sigh of relief whooshing out as the doors shut and the train pulled away. It would drop her out of her way, but that was okay… She didn’t mind the walk if it threw them off. It had been a productive afternoon… Connolly’s information was going to help a lot, as was the background contained in the pages of photos Sam had taken. Plus, the sudden appearance of those Euro wolves let her know without a shadow of a doubt that Prutzmann’s warning was too little too late… the Fenris Pack was already hunting her.
Chapter 25
Chrystie Street, near Delancey
The Bowery
“Uh, Benny?” Sam watched as Ben added up the list of items he’d ordered from the delivery menu. “You do realize it’s only going to be three of us, right?”
Ben threw a long-suffering look her way. “Yes, of course.” He held up two fingers. “Two of which are grown men who need much food. Also, two of which are werewolves…who also need much food.”
Sam frowned. “Is this a subtle way of telling me I’m overeating or something?”
“No. But let’s face it, Sam… Even before you were a werewolf, you could put it away.”
Sam narrowed her eyes, trying to throw Ben her best glare, but she quickly dissolved into laughter. “Alright, fine… It’s not like I don’t have room for leftovers.”
Evidently satisfied with his calculations, Ben tossed down his pencil and leaned back in the kitchen chair, the front legs raising up off the linoleum. “What time is he supposed to be here?”
“Eight.”
Ben pursed his lips, glancing at the clock on the wall, which was hovering just before eight o’clock. He lowered his eyes and watched the chair leg move up and down as he rocked the chair. “I remember how mad Nadia would get when I’d do this. And then Ivan would come in and lecture me about annoying her.” He chuckled, then smiled wistfully. “Your grandparents were the best… I miss them.”
“Me, too.” Sam could feel the moisture welling in her eyes as she turned away, quickly opening the refrigerator. “You want a beer, Benny?” Before waiting for his answer, she grabbed two. She quickly popped the caps and turned, holding one out for him.
Ben looked at her for a moment, his expression serious, concerned, and Sam wondered if some of that moisture that had been threatening her a moment ago had spilled forth onto her cheeks. Then Ben grinned, bringing the precariously balanced chair down again, all legs planted firmly on the floor, and took the o
ffered beer.
They heard the knock at the door at the same time. Sam and Ben looked at each other a moment, slowly setting their beer bottles down. The knock came again, and they both took off for the door. It was an old tradition to run for the door when they ordered food, and Sam was sure most of the delivery guys and gals in the area thought they were weirdos when they arrived at the door, out of breath and flushed.
Sam reached the door first, with Ben running into her and pushing them both into the door. They both dissolved into laughter as Sam pulled open the door.
Vincent stood in the hallway, a large brown envelope in one hand, a brown liquor store bag in the other, and watched the hysterical pair in front of him with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “Evening.”
“Vincent. Hi.” Sam recovered quickly and pushed the door open, stepping back with it as she motioned for him to come inside. “C’mon in. Um…” She looked him up and down. “Vincent… this is a war-room meeting, not a dinner party.”
Vincent followed her gaze down to his clothing… the barely-faded black jeans, the Aran knit sweater. He smirked. “I’m having the duster cleaned and mended, so…”
“Ah, I see. Well, we’re just waiting for --”
“Food’s here!” Ben whisked by them and stepped just out into the hallway, where the delivery guy was approaching with two large carry-handled bags full of food.
Vincent’s smirk grew, and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at Sam. Sam shook her head. “Okay, so, it’s a dinner party.” She glanced down at the bundles he was carrying. “What did you bring me?”
Quicksilver (The Bloodline Series Book 2) Page 14
