The Ancient Breed (40 page)

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Authors: David Brookover

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Horror, #General, #Thrillers

BOOK: The Ancient Breed
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“Well?” Sloan demanded.

“We’re up shit creek.”

“We’re missing a tank of the elixir.” It wasn’t a question; it was a simple assertion.

Tobias sighed. “Yeah. One tank’s filled with the elixir, and the other with water.”

Sloan folded his hands. “Someone has a whole tank of that stuff and obviously plans to use it. A competitor maybe?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m going to track down that elixir myself.”

Sloan shrugged. “Good luck. Meanwhile, we have more important things to worry about.”

Tobias’s eyes widened in surprise. “Such as?”

“Money. We sold our newly processed, age-reducing products to the first humans while you were in France. So far, the results have been amazing. Grant did an excellent job formulating them. So far, there haven’t been any side effects.”

“Did the old farts balk at the cost?”

Sloan smiled. “Not after they witnessed the results. All of the wrinkled prunes walked out of here looking like thirty-five-year-olds.”

“No kidding? With results like that, word of mouth is sure to spread the good news. At a million dollars a pop, we can raise the cash we need fast.”

“That’s the idea. We’ve got twelve more lined up today.”

Tobias frowned. “That’s great, but what about Neo Doss?”

“I’m planning something special for him. I think he’ll enjoy it . . . for a while, anyway,” Sloan explained, a sly grin creeping across his face.

“Just get rid of him,” Tobias snapped impatiently and stood. “I’m going to get cracking on that missing elixir.”

“Did Grant leave you any information about Bellamy’s whereabouts or what he was up to before you hopped a broomstick for France?”

Tobias ignored Sloan’s sarcasm and simply replied, “No.”

“I’ll check with my people and keep you
in the loop
for any information that comes my way.”

It was all Tobias could do to keep from exterminating Sloan with a single spell. The pompous ass! What happened to the mousy Sloan McGrath who Grant and he loved to hate? Tobias was, after all, the senior partner, and he wasn’t about to let Sloan gain the upper hand.

Tobias turned toward Sloan before leaving. “You do that.”

As soon as his partner closed the door, Sloan swiveled his chair toward the expansive window that afforded him a panoramic view of Manhattan. He allowed himself a small victory smile. He had humiliated Tobias for the first time, and it felt damn good. He looked out over the immense metropolis. Somewhere in that scurrying mass of half-breeds, his people were preparing a lethal reception for Neo Doss.

And that felt damn good, too.

49

“L

ord of the range, what’d I say?” a voice exploded from the Cherokee’s back seat.

Nick caught Lisa’s limp shoulders and head before they hit the console. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder or in the rearview mirror to identify their unexpected intruder. It was Crow.

“Did you ever hear of phoning ahead before you drop in on friends?” Nick barked as he turned on the air conditioner full blast in an attempt to revive Lisa. He directed the rush of cold air toward her face. Within a minute, she slowly regained consciousness.

“Who . . .”

“Shhh,” Nick breathed quietly in her ear. “Relax for a few minutes before you try anything strenuous like thinking.”

Her lips curled at the corners. “I can walk and chew gum at the same time, you know?”

“When you’ve got full command of your faculties,” he added. He handed her a bottle of water. She sipped it slowly and stuffed it back into the console beverage well.

“It’s Crow,” Nick replied before she could ask her question. “He dropped in from who knows where and is in the backseat now.”

She turned and frowned. “Damn you, Crow, you nearly gave me a coronary,” she grumbled, and then smiled wanly. “How did you manage
that
trick?”

“Grandfather’s wind-walking chant worked like a charm,” he replied with a shrug, “but to tell the truth, I don’t know why the chant worked this time and failed the others. Every time Grandfather tried to teach it to me, I fell flat on my Injun noggin.”

“You’ll have another lump on your Injun noggin if you ever pull a stunt like that again,” Nick admonished him. “So why’d you choose tonight to go wind walking, anyway?”

“We’ve got a new player in town, and he ain’t pretty.” Crow immediately detailed his run-in with the strange pedestrian.

“You’re saying the guy just stood in the middle of the road and didn’t make an effort to get out of your way?” Lisa was amazed and a little frightened.

“That’s about the size of it.”

“That would place him in front of the old dairy plant,” Nick said pensively. “I wonder what he was doing there.”

“Waiting for me to run him down,” Crow retorted.

“Then that leaves us with two questions. Why was he hanging around Duneden in first place, and why did he ambush you?”

“Ambush!” Crow and Lisa cried together.

“I don’t know what else you’d call it. It explains why he didn’t try to avoid your car. He knew that the collision wouldn’t hurt him, so it was the perfect setup. You get out of your car to check if he’s all right, and then he . . .”

Crow scowled. “Then he kills me and hides my body inside the dairy plant.”

“It looks that way.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Lisa asked.

“Whoever’s behind the assassinations,” Nick returned. His sat phone rang, and he promptly answered it. He mouthed “Rance” to Lisa and Crow, as he listened to the FBI director’s urgent news. After a couple yeses, he closed the conversation with, “We’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Well?” Crow queried expectantly.

“We have our connection to Aspirations,” he announced excitedly. “Nothing that would hold up in a court of law, but . . .”

“Enough with the Perry Mason, already,” Crow implored. “What’s the news?”

“Geronimo intercepted an international phone call from Aspirations to Paris concerning the murder of one of their principals and forwarded the information to Rance’s computer.”

Crow growled. “That renegade computer chief bypassed me!” he huffed.

Nick chuckled. “Geronimo told Rance that you were unavailable to receive the information.”

“Still . . . ,” Crow wasn’t about to be appeased so easily.

“Will you guys stop with the Abbott and Costello routine,” Lisa insisted, her patience wearing thin. “Nick, will you just fill us in?”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “The murder victim’s name is Grant Donovan, and he’s one of the three principal owners of Aspirations. Or was. The sheriff faxed crime scene pics to Aspirations’ headquarters in New York, and Geronimo intercepted those, too. Rance got a good look at the body and said that it wasn’t a pretty sight. The corpse’s face was horribly distorted as if he was scared to death, but his badly twisted body indicates otherwise,” Nick explained.

“Must have died fast then,” Lisa commented.

They stared at her.

“For his face to freeze like that,” she appended quickly. “Normally, the facial muscles relax during a slow death.”

Nick recalled Alick Tobhor’s horrible expression during his remote viewing episode inside the fortress. Was it possible that Donovan saw the same thing as Tobhor?

“Listen to the squaw woman, Nick. She knows her shit,” Crow teased with a cocked grin.

He nodded. “I do, Crow. At any rate, Rance wants us back in New York to help Neo on the Aspirations investigation. He now believes it’s too dangerous for just one agent to tackle,” Nick stated.

“You planned to let Neo go it alone?” Crow rebuked his friend.

“Just for the preliminary work, like planting bugs and cameras,” Nick replied defensively.

“Under the noses of those ruthless bastards? Custer’s last stand sounds like a day in the park compared to . . .”

“Stop it!” Lisa shouted. “Look, we’re all a little tired and frazzled at the moment; so I suggest that we just turn this car around and hightail it to New York without this senseless bickering. Do I make myself clear?”

Nick started the car, turned the Cherokee around at the next exit, and sped along Interstate 68 East. Silence descended on the SUV like a shroud. Lisa folded her arms like a mother who had scolded her children and stared straight ahead, thankful for the respite.

Suddenly, her arms dropped, and she stiffened. “Did you see that?” she asked breathlessly.

Both men became instantly alert.

“See what?” Nick asked.

“That road sign back there. It read State Route 62 South.”

“Route 62? That can’t be right. We’re on Interstate 68 West,” Nick exclaimed.

“Oh yeah? Well, the shape of the state around the number was Ohio.”

“Ohio?” It was Crow’s turn to be skeptical. “That can’t be. We’re in Maryland.”

She pointed ahead. “Here comes another sign.”

Nick slowed so they could all get a good look. It was a green, rectangular sign announcing,
Duneden - 37 miles
.

They all stared at the sign, as Nick pulled the SUV onto the grassy berm.

“I have an idea,” Nick said. He made a U-turn and headed north. A few minutes later, Lisa’s hands flew to her mouth.

“Oh my God!” she cried.

The Cherokee passed the same green sign:
Duneden - 37 miles
! Their tire marks were also visible on the soft, grassy shoulder in the brilliant glow of the halogen fog lights - the exact spot they parked minutes ago when they first saw the sign.

Crow slapped his forehead. “We were just here, paleface. What the hell’s happening to us?” he moaned.

Lisa gazed at Nick. “This is surreal. I never really believed that this magic stuff existed outside books and movies.”

“You saw the demon guardian in Florida, didn’t you?” Nick shot back. “This is magic, Lisa, plain and simple, and it exists whether you and I want to believe it or not.”

Crow gently gripped her shoulder. “Believe it.” He poked his head between the seats and eyed Nick suspiciously. “Didn’t you tell me a few days back that you needed to see Glenna Guttentag about that Alick Tobhor stuff?”

“Yeah. So what’s your point?”

“This is one helluva way to get your way, white man, and have a foolproof excuse for disobeying Rance’s direct orders, not that you normally follow them that often, anyway. So how
did
you manage this little teleportation stunt, Nick?”

“I can’t take the credit. I wish I could,” he responded wearily. “You ought to know that I can’t do anything like this. I’m not like my father or brother.”

“But I saw you teleport yourself to the front of the line inside Tobhor’s tunnel,” Lisa pointed out. “And I was there beside the fountain of youth when you described your remote viewing episode that took you back to Alick Tobhor’s time. You
do
have some magical abilities – you can’t deny it, Nick.”

He just shook his head. “You two can conjecture all you want, but you’ve got to believe me, I’m not responsible for our being here. So let’s forget it and concentrate on who did this to us, and why.”

“I can’t think about this road magic anymore,” Lisa said nervously.

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