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Authors: Quincy J. Allen

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Blood Ties (23 page)

BOOK: Blood Ties
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Ghiss slowly got to his feet, and no one lent a hand. There were a number of scowls aimed at the mercenary as well as some questioning glances directed at Jake. Many were wondering why Jake hadn’t simply shot the mercenary where he lay.

As Ghiss stood, he made some swinging and rotating motions with all four limbs. The same arm and leg were clearly giving him trouble, but they were at least mobile. He hobbled slowly to the back of the wagon and clambered up into the back, settling on the bed just outside the pillbox. Jake looked across the wagon and saw Cole throw his saddle and bags over the edge to land with a thud on top of the Lady’s crate. Then Cole mounted up in the driver’s seat of the wagon. Jake tossed him both of Ghiss’ pistols and reloaded his own.

“All right, let’s move on out of here.” He turned to Chung. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to escort us the rest of the way?”

“Of course, Jake,” Chung nodded his head. “We’ve come this far together, and I do not believe that Ming was amongst the men we killed. My soldiers would have notified me at once. He may still be out there waiting for us.”

“Great,” Jake grumbled, wishing the
Jezebel
had already taken off with them on board. “I’m much obliged, Chung … and thanks by the way … for
everything
. We would have been dead meat if it weren’t for you and Qi.” He turned to the digger, hollering. “I owe you one!”

He moved around the wagon and grabbed Lumpy’s harness. With a glance back at Koto’s bloody form lying on the ground, another pang of guilt hit Jake. He spurred Lumpy and they moved forward. Qi masterfully kept pace with Lumpy’s progress, and the whole group, including about fifteen of Chung’s men, made their way slowly across the bridge and over the wide field that led to where the
Jezebel
sat.

Fog still swirled around, but it had started to loosen up, and the ground lights illuminated the great envelope of the airship. As the group of them approached, they spotted nearly a dozen men crouching behind cargo containers and crates surrounding the base of the gondola. Every one of them had a rifle pointed at Jake and the others.

Tyler Jones stepped out from behind some barrels, rifle in hand, and walked in their direction. Chung and Jake moved forward ahead of everyone to greet the man.

“So, y’all made it, did you?” Tyler asked a bit worriedly. He looked over the digger and the people around it.

“It surely appears that way,” Jake replied.

“But not without a price,” Chung added.

“When we got your message,” Tyler replied, “we didn’t know quite what to make of it, Chung. And when we heard the shooting start over there, well, I don’t mind telling you that we feared the worse. If y’all survived that, I’d hate to see the other guys.”

“Tyler, is your captain around?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I need to talk to him. He’s got a right to know the score before he lets us on board.” Jake sighed. He was laying short odds that the captain of the
Jezebel
would turn them away once he got the whole story, but Jake felt obligated to give it to him anyway.

“If you say so, Jake. Come on.” Tyler turned and headed towards the open cargo door. “O’Malley!” he shouted into the darkness.

“Yeah?” a voice floated up from behind some crates. Matthew O’Malley stepped out into view.

“I want you to get everything aboard that’s going aboard, but make damn sure you leave room for that busted up rig back there.”

“You got it.”

“And make sure you keep those men watching out for any trouble.”

O’Malley nodded as Jake and Tyler walked past him and up into the cargo hold. Tyler stopped just inside the door and pressed a button on a small panel, speaking into the thing with a loud voice. “Carson, can you send the captain down to the cargo bay?” He released the button. Jake looked around the hold and saw that all the damage had been repaired. The only difference being crates and barrels now occupied the area where luggage had been before.

“The captain is already on his way down to the hold, Tyler,” a thin-sounding voice came from the small box. “He saw them folks showing up and wanted to talk to either Chung or that Lasater fella.”

Tyler pressed the button and said, “Thanks, Carson. Seems Jake here and the captain had the same notion.” He released the button and turned to Jake. “He should be down directly.”

Jake nodded and they heard the door past the luggage open. “Mr. Tyler!” a man with a thick, English accent called out.

“Here, Captain,” Tyler said and stepped forward into the hold as the captain came into view.

“Ah, excellent!” the captain said as he stepped into view. Jake had to blink twice. The captain of the
Jezebel
stood nearly seven feet of skinny Englishman, with a long, narrow, horse-like face and gray muttonchops puffed out on the sides. His limbs were as thin as saplings and seemed to almost flop around as the man moved. The captain wore a crisp, black uniform with gold epaulets, and a braid of gold hooked under his left arm. The worn grip of a muzzle-load pistol stuck out above his right hip set up for a cross-draw, and it had clearly seen plenty of use. The basket-hilted saber on his left looked even more worn, and the long red tassel at the end of the pommel was ratty in parts, as if the weapon were quite old.

“Jake Lasater, I presume?” the captain said as he held out a bony hand with impossibly long fingers. “I’m Captain Horacio Butler Wordsworth, at your service, sir.” The captain looked Jake up and down with fiercely calculating eyes, not suspicious, but Jake had no doubt every word he said would be picked apart by the captain of the
Jezebel
.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain,” Jake shook the man’s hand and tipped his hat.

“Quite a hullabaloo you had out there, what?”

“Yes, sir,” Jake said with a sigh. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Wordsworth raised an eyebrow. “What might you be of a mind to discuss, young man?” the captain asked with a knowing smile. “Hmmmm?”

“Well, I don’t know what Chung said when he booked our passage, but I suspect it was downright cryptic.”

“An excellent supposition, Mister Lasater. My friend Chung does have a penchant for leaving out details, doesn’t he?” The tall man chuckled.

“That he does,” Jake agreed. He liked the captain already. “The truth is that the hullabaloo we just wrapped up probably won’t be the last. In fact, I’m certain of it.” He hesitated, scratching the back of his head nervously as his eyes wandered around the cargo hold.

“Spit it out, young man. No need to dally with me.”

“Well, the men we just finished tangling with out there were working for the same man who dusted up your cargo hold on the way out from Denver the other day. He’s dead set on getting his hands on what we’re hauling … in that wagon out there,” Jake nodded to the broken wagon that Qi and Cole had moved closer to the hold. “He’s got at least one black zepp, as you know, but if the weapons on his ship are as feisty as the ones his boys carry, you’d be in for a heap o’ trouble when he comes callin’. I figured you needed to know that before you let us get aboard the
Jezebel
.”

The captain put steel in his voice as he spoke. “Is this the same man responsible for the death of one of my crewmen?” Jake got the impression Captain Horacio Butler Wordsworth was not a man to be trifled with.

“Yessir, Captain,” Jake said slowly, afraid he was about to get kicked off.

“Young man, I take my responsibilities very seriously, for this ship, but more so for the men who serve under me. This Colonel Szilágyi murdered a man under my command. I will see that he meets justice, or I and my entire crew will die in the attempt.”

“This is likely to turn into one hell of a shooting fight, Captain,” Jake offered.

“The
Jezebel
is not without her defenses,” Wordsworth said defiantly, “and you and your people proved adequate in thwarting Szilágyi’s plans the first time. I served in Her Majesty’s Air Force and fought Mongol pirates in the skies over Xi’an. You have brought to me precisely the bait I require to bring this colonel to my doorstep. And then we shall see what’s
what
.”

“I reckon I never really looked at it that way, Captain, but we’re still obliged to ya.”

“It is I who is obliged to you, young man. I was not entirely honest with you before. My friendship with Chung goes back to, well, before you were born. He gave me quite a few details about what has been going on these past two days. Your honesty here has raised your stock quite a bit, and it was already in good standing. In my eyes you are not simply some uncouth, gun-slinging cowboy getting into trouble wherever you go, like so many other Americans I’ve met. You are a gentleman of character and principles, one I believe I can trust. And I will be pleased to do so henceforth.” The captain held out his hand once again, and they shook firmly. “I have already made arrangements so that our passengers will be picked up by the next Central Pacific transport to arrive, which should be in two days. I convinced my superiors that the
Jezebel
might not be safe for passengers.” He winked with a sly grin on his face. “Now, say your goodbyes and get your people on board. We leave within the hour.”

“Thank you Captain, but you’re taking an awful risk with the
Jezebel
. We don’t even know what Szilágyi did the first time he was here, and I have no doubt that black zeppelin of his is armed for bear.”

“Fear not, Mister Lasater. As I said, we shall mete out justice or perish in the attempt!” A wolfish grin crossed Captain Wordsworth’s face. “And the
Jezebel
, after all, is insured by Lloyd’s of London.” The captain winked once again.

Jake merely chuckled and shook his head.

Chapter Twenty-six – A Deal Deal

“You can make a deal with the Devil and trust he’ll keep his end of the bargain. But any deal you make better be worth your immortal soul.”

~ Jake Lasater

Jake stared down at Chung and Qi as early morning sunlight traced along faint wisps of what little fog remained. “Are you two going to be all right with Ming still gunning for you?” he asked. The rotors of the
Jezebel
were spinning slowly, and the hum of her engines forced Jake to raise his voice. Captain Wordsworth’s crew had loaded the last of the cargo quickly and efficiently. There were still a few of his ground crew running around making last-minute checks on ship and cargo, but they kept a respectful distance from Jake, Chung, and Qi.

“We certainly will,” Chung said, smiling. “But that circumstance would have been the same regardless of whether you were here or not.”

“This actually worked out better than we could have hoped,” Qi added. She took Jake’s hand and then hugged him tightly. He returned the embrace, breathing deeply of her hair and again remembering both the tender and frightening moments they’d spent together. He cared for her deeply, and a part of him wondered what being with her would have been like. But thoughts of Lady Dănești loomed in his thoughts, and he couldn’t shake Qi’s words about destiny and an imminent war.

“How do you mean?” Jake asked, leaning back and looking into her eyes.

“Well, we have those two machines I get to take apart and turn into even better models. They’re old, but some of what’s inside them is good work.” Qi released Jake and stepped up next to her grandfather.

Chung added, “And this morning’s events forced Ming to commit a large portion of his men, and they were mostly wiped out. He’ll be starting nearly from scratch, and I will be speaking with certain parties in- and outside the San Francisco government to ensure that he has … difficulties.” Chung’s smile bordered on vicious, and it gave Jake chills. The man was as dangerous as they came.

“You pretty much got this town in your pocket, don’t you, Chung?”

The old man remained silent, but an almost impish delight danced behind his eye, and Jake would swear the glowing green eye set in the golden mask got brighter.

“Remind me not to ever get on your bad side,” Jake added, holding out his hand as the ground crew around them released the heavy ropes securing the
Jezebel
.

“Indeed,” Chung agreed. “Now you should be on your way. They’re about to take off.” Chung held out his hand, and Jake shook it warmly. He hoped he would see the old man again.

“You two be careful,” Jake said. He stepped into the cargo hold and turned back towards them. “And I’ll think about what you said last night, Qi.”

She smiled and nodded at him.

“I suspect you’re in considerably more danger than either of us,” Chung said.

“And you better come back soon. I’ll wire you and let you know when it’s safe,” Qi added. “You, Cole, and Skeeter deserve to see all of San Francisco.”

“We will,” Jake agreed. “I already promised Skeeter a real trip.” He tipped his hat at them both, and they raised their hands as one of the
Jezebel’s
crew closed the cargo door. Jake made his way up the spiral staircase leading out of the cargo hold when he felt the
Jezebel
lift off. He walked through the empty passenger area and noticed that four belt-fed Gatling gun emplacements had been set up along the windows, two on each side. There were sandbags set up around the guns to protect the gunners.

The
Jezebel
banked hard. Jake looked out the window and realized that what little he could see of the rising sun was to his left rather than straight ahead. A squall line of dark clouds filled the distance as the
Jezebel
tacked south rather than heading into the storm.

Making a mental note to ask about it, he ambled into the dining compartment and found some of the
Jezebel’s
crew whispering quietly amongst themselves. Cole sat in a far corner eyeing Ghiss with a dark scowl. Skeeter sat hunched over Ghiss’ arm and appeared to be working on the damaged appendage. Tyler stood behind Ghiss, looking down at Skeeter as she worked, clearly fascinated by what he saw.

Ghiss had been laid out on one of the tables. His coat, shirt, and pants had been draped over one of the chairs, and Jake got his first good look at what the man really looked like—or what was left of him.

The biggest patch of skin Jake could see was around the neckline. What he saw made him feel a sudden, strange pang of compassion for the mercenary. Ghiss had only mottled scar tissue, as if his flesh were made of pink and white wax dripped layer upon layer over the bumpy surface of an abused mannequin. A man only got scars like that from fire—open, sustained fire. Jake had seen enough burns and heard enough screams in the war to know that Ghiss had endured the trial of flame at some point, and survived. Jake knew damn well pain like that changed a person.

Ghiss was heartless, a cold-blooded killer who did what he did for money, but when it came right down to it, Jake had to admit that he and the mercenary weren’t all that different. Granted, Jake drew a line at certain things, and he was convinced Ghiss didn’t have too many boundaries, but seeing the man as he was, he understood the mercenary a little better. Not enough to forgive him, but at least understand.

Ghiss’ slender limbs, shining with a dull, brass finish, had cylindrical joints attaching double-tube constructs. A black breastplate covered with dents and scrapes encased his torso. He still wore the lower half of his mask, but the goggles had been unbolted from his face. His eyelids were gone, and the scarred skin around his eyes and cheeks were a mottled white and pink, like the rest of him.

Skeeter had on her glasses, the magnifying lenses swung out in front of the oculars, and she prodded and poked his damaged left arm with one of her instruments. She reached into a tool kit lying on the table beside Ghiss and pulled out a small wrench. Sliding it through a bullet hole in the limb, she made an adjustment and the set the wrench down.

“I think I can get this working again, but patching up the outer casing probably won’t be possible, at least not here. I doubt they have the parts or equipment onboard that I’d need.”

“Anything you can do to get me up and moving will be most appreciated, young lady,” Ghiss said as he spotted Jake walking towards them.

Jake remained silent as he stepped up, and his eyes lingered on Ghiss’ scars. That feeling of pity welled up in him again. Ghiss looked at Jake, their eyes locking for a few brief seconds. The mercenary’s cheeks rose slightly, making Jake think Ghiss wore a smile.

“Perhaps now you understand a little, Mister Lasater,” Ghiss said, the metal twang in his voice carrying a subtle resignation of fate that was hard for Jake to miss. Ghiss chuckled slightly, and Jake nodded just enough to let Ghiss know that he did. Jake had encountered plenty of people who scorned him when they saw the gleaming metal of his arm and legs. Clockwork replacements for flesh and blood were useful, even better than the originals in many cases, but they set men like Jake and Ghiss apart from normal folks. Mistrust and outright hatred were common enough circumstances he and Ghiss faced regularly.

“Don’t worry, Ghiss. Skeeter here is almost as good as Farris, better in some ways if you ask me.” Skeeter looked up and smiled, her cheeks going a bit rosy with embarrassment at the compliment. “Do what you can, Skeeter. Old Ghiss still has to pay us back for me not shooting him in San Fran.”

Ghiss laughed and tilted his head to the side. Jake got that feeling again, as if he’d seen a head tilt in exactly that way at some point in his life. “You know I pay my debts, Mister Lasater. A gentleman always does.”

“Pretty far from a gentleman if you ask me,” Cole said, and the bitterness in his voice told Jake his partner wanted a reason, any reason, to shoot the mercenary. Jake couldn’t blame him, but he needed Ghiss.

“What can you tell me about Szilágyi?” Jake asked, “And that zepp of his.”

“I’ve never been aboard his zeppelin, and I doubt I could tell you much more about the man than you already know.”

“Try me,” Jake said, “but hit the highlights. There’s a fight heading our way, and that piece of shit Szilágyi is at the helm.”

“He’s more ruthless than I am,” Ghiss stated, “and you know what that means.” Jake nodded. It meant that Szilágyi would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and he wouldn’t care what got in his way. “Women and children are fair game in his book,” Ghiss added. He locked eyes with Jake once again, and Jake got the warning. A man like Szilágyi would use Lady Dănești and even Skeeter as nothing more than pawns, even shields if he got his hands on them.

“Ghiss, do you know what Szilágyi wants with the Lady’s crate?” Jake asked, his voice going stony.

“I couldn’t say for certain, Mister Lasater, but they’re not just after what’s in the reliquary—although I use that term loosely. Szilágyi is keenly interested in taking possession of the woman herself, and for reasons that a man of your upbringing would find uncomfortable, perhaps even unbelievable.”

“What the hell is a reliquary?” Cole injected, his distaste for Ghiss readily apparent.

“Let’s just say that they are used to carry objects of religious or mystical importance, Mister McJunkins, and leave it at that for the time being.”

“Sounds like you know a hell of a lot more than we do,” Cole replied.

“It would be difficult to argue with you on that point, sir,” Ghiss said, and nobody missed the haughtiness in the metallic voice.

“So, why don’t you enlighten us?” Jake suggested with an iron edge in his voice.

“I’m afraid I’m honor-bound to withhold much of the specifics regarding the Lady and her belongings,” Ghiss said easily. Jake saw Cole reach for his pistol, and the anger on his partner’s face was obvious. Jake locked eyes with Cole and shook his head slightly. Cole glared at Ghiss, but he left the Colt where it was. “You know I’m a man of honor, Mister Lasater. I’ve given my word not to discuss certain aspects of this contract, and therefore I will not, under
any
circumstances.” Ghiss turned his eyes briefly to Cole and then the Colt as he spoke, returning his gaze back to Jake.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, trying to work out a kink that had taken up residence there, borne of frustration. “Qi knows what’s going on. Chung does, too. Hell, even Norton seems to know what’s going on. And now
you
?” Jake groaned aiming a surly look at Ghiss. “Are we the only ones who don’t have a clue?”

Ghiss nodded. “I believe that would be an accurate assessment of the circumstances, Mister Lasater.”

“All y’all can kiss my ass,” Jake grumbled. Tyler was obviously doing his best not to laugh, but Ghiss made no such effort. The metallic laughter that came from the man was downright disturbing.

“Mister Lasater,” Ghiss said between chuckles, “sometimes you just
slay
me.”

“I surely would like to,” Jake muttered.

“I don’t believe you truly mean that,” Ghiss said flatly.

“You can bet
I
do, Ghiss,” Cole spoke up, not hiding the venom.

“At this point I’d have to flip a coin,” Jake said. “But there’s something I can’t figure.” He narrowed his good eye at Ghiss.

“Only one?” Ghiss asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Jake ignored the quip and continued on. “If your deal was with Szilágyi and he broke the agreement, then why keep quiet?”

“Well, I did have an agreement with those gentlemen, and they did not hold up their end of the bargain once my services had been duly rendered. That makes the agreement null and void, and I do owe them a certain amount of recompense for their betrayal. Recompense I intend to pay with interest. But it is not Szilágyi to whom I gave my word, therefore my agreement is still binding.”

“So who was it?” Jake asked.

Ghiss cocked his head to the left and remained silent, clearly not interested in offering anything more on the subject.

Jake sighed and shook his head. Knowing Ghiss wouldn’t say more about his deal. “So, where does that leave us?”

“You know me Mister Lasater … or at least know me enough. I’m not a villain, per se. This is business. I intend to settle my accounts with Szilágyi and his little group, with or without you. It seems to me you could use all the help at your disposal.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Jake asked. “We’re talking about a deal here, right Ghiss?” he asked. He’d stopped himself from shooting Ghiss in the hope that they could work out a deal. “A business arrangement to nail Szilágyi. No tricks. No bullshit. We don’t kill you here and now, and you work with us to bury that son-of-a-bitch. After that we drop you off at the next stop. Right?”

“Again, Mister Lasater, I find your terms acceptable.”

Jake held out his hand and Ghiss shook it firmly.

“Then you’ve got a deal, Ghiss. Until Szilágyi is a corpse, you work for me.” Ghiss nodded once.

Jake turned to Tyler. “You got a minute?” he asked the big man, nodding toward the door that led to the forward passenger compartments.

“Sure, Jake.” Tyler turned and walked towards the door.

Jake looked at Cole and flicked his eyes toward the door. Cole caught the hint and stood, but his eyes didn’t leave Ghiss until he stepped through the door ahead of Jake.

“Hey, Jake?” Skeeter called out.

“What’s up, Skeeter?” Jake replied as he stopped and turned back to her.

“When I’m done here, would it be okay if I went down and checked the hold? There’s something that’s been bothering me.”

“Go right ahead,” he said and smiled. Jake had learned to trust when something bothered her. She bragged about being smarter than most people, and though it could come across as arrogant and irritating, Jake knew that on her worst day she could figure out stuff Jake and Cole wouldn’t come close to on their best days. “Let me know if you find anything, and if you can’t find me right away, find Tyler here or the captain.”

“You got it!” she called back.

“Head for our cabin, Tyler,” Jake said, turning once again towards the door. “Last one on the left,” Jake offered. He wanted the conversation to be as private as possible.

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