The Ancient Breed (49 page)

Crow typed:

Cut the crap, wise guy. I need your help. My life is in jeopardy. Some killer dinosaur creature has invaded the White House, and the Secret Service locked it down. I need you to breach the White House’s computer security system pronto and open all accesses so that the Special Forces can get in here and put the damned thing out of my misery.

Geronimo replied:

Can do. Describe the invading creature and the weapons at your disposal, oh wise and brave Omaha chieftain.

Crow rapidly typed a detailed description of the creature and identified his 9 mm weapon. Geronimo was the world’s most intelligent supercomputer, and it was continually absorbing information from other government computer files, as well as all files located in businesses, universities, historical societies, scientific societies, and many other sources worldwide.

Geronimo:

One moment, please.

Crow:

Now you sound like a receptionist AND a brownnose.

Geronimo:

I have located a description for your creature from an obscure archeological file.

It is a Cumalodin, which means Devil in a primitive Neanderthal dialect. Nothing more is known about it except that it is practically indestructible.

Crow:

It’s protected by a force field that appears to grow stronger as it eats and grows to maturity.

Geronimo:

In that case, you will need a weapon more powerful than your 9 mm gun. May I suggest a 50 mm weapon?

Crow threw up his hands.

Just cancel the White House lockdown now, or after that Cumalodin finishes me off, Rance will see to it that your next buddy will some be some tiresome computer nerd!!!

Geronimo:

It’s being processed as we speak. And may I add that it’s been a pleasure to serve you again.

Crow:

Although your sarcasm is refreshing, let me add that I’m thinking of trading you in for a nice, quiet pet dog.

Geronimo:

I have tapped into the White House security cameras, and the Special Forces teams are heading for the Oval Office now. But, the cameras also indicate that President Hanover and Lisa Anders are no longer present.

Crow:

Did this Cumalodin kill them?

Geronimo:

Negative. It is trapped in a force field other than its own. It is struggling now to escape it.

Crow:

But what happened to Lisa and Hanover?

Geronimo:

The security video indicates that they just vanished. I completed a diagnostic on the security camera system and found it to be in excellent working order. Lisa and President Hanover’s unusual method of exiting has been verified.

Crow leaped from the chair and sprinted for the Oval Office. He didn’t catch Geronimo’s final message:

Bowwow.

The computer screen went black.

When Crow returned to the back entrance to the Oval Office, a glowering Army Special Forces general commanded him to fall back. Even though Crow was troubled by Lisa’s disappearance, he knew better than to cross a general. He did as he was ordered. Suddenly, thunderclap explosions of the Army Special Forces teams’ rapid-fire assault weapons rocked the White House. The creature’s unearthly wails rose over the battlefield din for what seemed an eternity, but finally its agonizing cries ceased.

The general waved Crow into the Oval Office. Crow’s eyes teared as he rushed into the smoke-choked room. The beast’s hideous form was reduced to crimson sushi by the large assault weapons. Holding a handkerchief over his nose and mouth, Crow glided through the acrid gunmetal haze like a specter as he methodically searched for Lisa and President Hanover. But there was no trace of them.

Later, Crow reported his activities at the White House to the general. When advised that there was no record of his White House entry in the visitors’ log at the front gates, Crow subtly implied that the discrepancy was no doubt an oversight on the part of the guards. The skeptical general was about to receive a copy of the Oval Office surveillance video when Crow excused himself to go to the restroom. He lost no time returning to the upstairs maintenance closet where he successfully executed the wind walk chant.

Although he needed a little rest and relaxation to recuperate from his near-death experiences with Lisa Anders, he willed himself to Duneden so he could report his mission failure to Nick.

He prayed that Neo was all right.

60

T

he noon sun washed the sprawling Aspirations warehouse along the shore of Baltimore Harbor in blistering brilliance. The facility was a hive of activity as workers manned forklifts and cranes to load poisoned Aspirations products onto big semi rigs and lake freighters. From his concealment inside the warehouse, Tobias observed the outdoor activity through a cobwebbed, grimy window from the highest point inside the warehouse. The entire building was air conditioned, but the corrugated steel roof wasn’t insulated and conducted the sun’s heat like a broiler oven.

Tobias Simpkins, CEO of Aspirations, Incorporated, waited in that sweat zone, his silver hair matted against his head and his perspiration-soaked clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. He seriously considered using his magic to make himself comfortable, but he was afraid that it would alert his enemy to his presence. That was the last thing he wanted. And besides, the outcome would be worth the hours of torment.

Tobias crouched patiently among the rafters waiting for Grant Donovan’s killer to make an entrance. It was inevitable. Just a matter of time. Somehow, Tobias sensed that today would be the day the murderer put in an appearance at their Baltimore facility.

He squinted down at the steel honeycomb of crates, skids, and cartons. A brown sea of anonymity. An unmarked crate rested on the highest storage shelf, accessible only by the largest forklift. It concealed the remaining elixir tank. Bait for Grant’s murderer.

Tobias wanted to pound his fists against the loft railing and scream. After waiting four thousand years to possess Tobhor’s elixir again, he and his partners had inexplicably become targets of a violent, faceless opponent. They were lined up like dominoes - poised to topple one after the other.

And for what? Tobhor’s damn elixir! If the mystery murderer had only contacted them and struck a bargain for his fair share of the elixir, all four of them could have formed a partnership.

Tobias’s mouth curled into a sneer. Who was he kidding? He, Grant, and Sloan would’ve eliminated their new partner at the first opportunity. Sharing was out of the question. They had been the ones who had kidnapped Tobhor four thousand years ago and had forced him to make certain improvements to his formula—improvements that would have made them invincible in their quest for domination of this primitive dimension. If the old fool hadn’t locked himself and the elixir away from the world, Tobias’s exile in this cursed dimension would have been far easier to tolerate these past forty centuries.

Tobias snapped alert. He heard shouts and excited chatter below. He wiped his face with the shop rag someone left in the loft, and glanced down. The workers gathered at the entrance like pagans paying homage to a god.

Four people paraded past the throng, and the Aspirations employees trailed them like groupies at a rock concert. Tobias’s eyes narrowed, and his lips tightened into a terse line. He recognized the murderer among the four visitors. The traitor! Tobias resisted the temptation to launch a lightning bolt and smite the bastard, but there would be too many innocent deaths that would require a police investigation. Aspirations didn’t need that kind of publicity, especially when Tobias was so close to realizing his goals.

He also recognized one of the killer’s companions. Neo Doss.
FBI
.
Now what was he doing there? Was the agent involved in the murderer’s treachery, too?
A pair of sleazy young women doted on Doss.
Were those bimbos Doss’s payoff for betraying Nick Bellamy and Rance Osborne? If they were, the former NFL star was working cheap these days.

Hate welled within Tobias as he watched the large “Star Wars” forklift part the crowd and brake far below the elixir crate. He didn’t need to stick around the warehouse to know what the killer was after. Tobias also knew where to find him and both elixir tanks at sunset that evening.

He couldn’t waste any more time inside the warehouse. He had plans to make. Tonight, Grant’s murderer would be in for a nasty surprise. With clenched fists, the ancient destroyer vanished.

After their visit to the Aspirations warehouse in Baltimore, Neo found himself strapped to a chair in the basement of the New Jersey asylum. His two female companions ogled him hungrily, but Neo wasn’t overly concerned. Before leaving the asylum, McGrath issued a stern caveat not to damage Neo in any way. For some reason, they were deathly afraid of McGrath and were obeying his command. So far, at least.

But McGrath mentioned nothing about playing with their captive, so the cats began teasing the mouse. As soon as the Aspirations partner disappeared, the two women stripped Neo and then shed their skimpy outfits. Both seductively brushed their naked bodies against him and took turns guiding their erect nipples along his taut lips. They begged him to open his mouth and suckle their breasts; but instead, Neo squeezed his eyes shut and imagined the ugliest women he ever saw. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

Mindy rode his stiff member as if it was a mechanical, barroom bull. The chair frame creaked beneath her uninhibited humping and gyrations, until Neo figured the chair’s legs were on the verge of collapse. But to his chagrin, they held. After his member exploded inside Mindy, Lurdene teased it rigid again and took her wild ride.

Two hours later, the wild-eyed savages finally gave him a break and sexually assaulted each other. The moaning women fondled, licked, and rubbed each other into one frantic orgasm after another. Neo fervently prayed that they would ignore him the rest of the afternoon, but his prayers went unheeded. Soon, groping hands, roaming tongues, and warm mouths coaxed another erection, and the women were back in the saddle again.

61

A

fter narrating her ancestors’ incredible history, the daunting Glenna Guttentag called a family meeting in her living room. Fritz eased his immense frame into the recliner in the corner, while the sullen Hugo sat on the edge of the flowered couch and glared at Nick. Everyone was strung tight.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Glenna, how you managed to hold that black cloud at bay in the grotto,” Nick asked her, breaking the ice.

Glenna sat in her oak rocking chair and considered his question. Finally, she replied, “You’re familiar with Superman, right?”

Nick frowned, and then nodded, wondering where was she going with that unexpected angle.

“Superman’s powers were depleted each time he was around kryptonite, and it appears as if that ornery shape-shifter loses its power around our witches’ meteor,” she answered. “As you saw with your own eyes, when I conjured that energy bolt from the meteor’s radiation, it pretty much did that danged thing in.”

Nick grinned. Forget carrying a rabbit’s foot in his pocket for luck. He wanted a piece of that meteor.

As if reading his thoughts, Glenna reached into her dress pockets and withdrew a fistful of reddish-orange stones. She tossed one to each of the men.

“Just in case that thing returns.” Glenna checked the grandfather clock. The hands indicated 3:24 p.m. “Now, we’ve got some chores to take care of before sunset. Boys,” she addressed her grandsons, “get a move on.”

Hugo and Fritz ambled out the front door.

“Where are they going?” Nick asked. “Maybe I can help.”

“Oh, you will,” Glenna replied prophetically. “We just have to wait here for a few more minutes.”

Nick scowled “Are we expecting someone?”

Glenna sidestepped the question. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get your gun. You’re going to need it before too long.”

When Nick returned to the living room, Crow was standing inside the front door. He pointed angrily at Nick, but Glenna merely chuckled.

“You!” he barked at Nick.

Nick was taken aback by Crow’s boorish greeting.

“You sent me, a nonviolent guy, into the damned field with a popgun and a woman
and
expected me to survive!” he ranted.

“It looks like you’re no worse for wear,” Nick pointed out, stifling a smile.

“Yeah, no thanks to you.”

“Did you find Neo?”

“Hell, no, and that’s not even half the story,” Crow replied animatedly.

Nick glanced at Glenna for help, but he could tell by her amused grin that she was thoroughly enjoying Crow’s tirade. He was on his own.

“Mind telling us the
whole
story?” Nick asked, sitting on the sofa’s armrest.

Crow strode irritably into the living room and plunked himself into the recliner. Nick and Glenna listened intently as he related his horrific experiences at the White House. All humor drained from Nick’s expression when Crow finally told them about Lisa and Hanover’s disappearance.

“Oh dear,” Glenna moaned. “You say they both vanished from the Oval Office?”

“That’s about the size of it,” Crow responded brusquely, still piqued at Nick. “Geronimo analyzed the surveillance tapes and reported that they both just disappeared. Period. No trick wires. No time lapses in the video recording.”

Nick’s gaze bore into the old woman. “That wasn’t part of
your
plan?”

“I’m afraid not.” She turned to Crow. “You said that the Cumalodin didn’t attack them, because it was trapped in some kind of force field?”