The Peregrine Omnibus Volume One (37 page)

Kaslov ducked below the stream of hot death, knowing that he’d escaped death by mere inches. His sleeve caught on part of the narrow hallway, ripping as he moved forward. This had the effect of revealing his marvelously proportioned bicep and he flexed this muscle just before rising to his full height and slamming a fist into the firing man’s face. The sound of bones crunching rang out as blood spurted from the man’s injured nose.

This left only two opponents still standing and both looked as if they were having second thoughts about the whole affair. While they wavered in their resolve, Leonid dispatched one with a well-placed kick to the knee. A sickening pop was followed by a cry of pain as the man fell to the floor, crippled.

Kaslov took a step towards the remaining gunman. “You saw what happened to your friends,” he warned, his words taking on an icy tone that seemed all the more threatening. “If you want to be able to walk away with the police under your own power, you’re going to answer a few questions for me.”

“You’re him, aren’t you?” the man stammered. “Leo somethin’ or other—the Russian!”

“I am.”

“My name’s Marty,” the man said, a sickly grin appearing on his face. “Believe it or not, I’m a big fan of yours. My little boy has a picture of you on his bedroom wall!”

“How did you end up working for these people, Marty? You don’t strike me as a bad sort.”

Marty seemed to take those words as something meaningful, for he lowered his weapon and glanced over his shoulder nervously. He was aware that he’d just taken part in an awful crime, one that would probably cost him his freedom, but he was also in obvious awe of Kaslov. “I answered an ad for men with military experience, who were good with a rifle and who needed money, no questions asked. I’m not even sure where these guys are really based—maybe we were all blindfolded and taken by boat to an island in the middle of nowhere! That’s where we’ve been every since, up until the comet landed in Loggieville. Now we’re holding the place prisoner until the boss can finish learning whatever he can from the Black Flame.”

“The Black Flame,” Leonid murmured aloud, stroking his chin. “What is that, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Marty answered. “I’ve never been that close to it… but one of my friends says it’s like nothing nobody’s ever seen before! He said it was somethin’ alien… a living fire!”

“Hmm.” Leonid glanced outside the shattered window, where one of the gunmen had begun to stir. “Tell me about your boss.”

“Tall guy. Speaks with a funny accent—a lot worse than yours, but maybe he’s from the same place. Calls himself a monk but he ain’t like no monk I’ve ever seen before. Real bushy beard, dark eyes, stinks to high heaven.”

Leonid’s eyes flashed with sudden, awful realization. That description was of someone who was long dead… “Have you ever heard his name? His real name?”

Marty nodded eagerly, pleased to have information that Kaslov wanted so badly. “Sure! Just once… but they said he was really named Rasputin. Do you know him?”

“Yes… I’m afraid I do. And this situation has just gone from curious to downright bizarre!”

CHAPTER IX

Communing with the Black Flame

Loggieville was a quiet town, with a population of only a few hundred good-natured souls. Founded by men and women of mostly Scottish and English descent, Loggieville was home to hardy woods and beautiful sunrises. The current mayor of the town was Henry O’Shea, a hearty man with a rust-colored beard and lively green eyes. He was a bit on the heavy side but he tried to hide the fact by constantly crossing his arms in front of him, which only served to enhance his portly image. He was a beloved figure, however, and was generally considered to be Mayor for Life.

Unfortunately, he now wondered if his life was going to be a short one. He was bound by the wrists with heavy rope that bit into his skin. A gun was pressed against the back of his neck and he was forced to his knees on the cold floor, his eyes never wavering from the peculiar image in front of him.

Rasputin sat cross-legged in front of a large brazier, in which sat several broken pieces of dark colored rock. Black and blue flames danced about the rocks, sometimes shooting high up into the air, so that they left little marks on the ceiling. Henry hated seeing his office defiled like this but the Russian had claimed it as his own soon after the town fell under enemy control.

Henry found it hard to believe that the man was really Rasputin, anyway. Well read, Henry knew enough about the troubles a few decades back to know that the real Rasputin was long dead.

“Your men have worked quite hard,” Rasputin said, his voice sounding somewhat drugged and unfocused. His eyes drifted lazily about the room and Henry got the impression that the man was staring at things that were beyond the normal veil of man. “When we are done here, I plan to leave them all alive, though precautions will be taken to assure that we are not described to authorities.”

“None of us will say a thing,” Henry promised. His knees ached from being on the hard floor but he tried to maintain a friendly demeanor. Though most people considered him far more likeable than your average politician, the truth was that he was just as slick as the best of them and had mastered the art of pretending to care for what was being said to him. It was an unfortunate truth that sometimes a politician had to put on a fake smile and go to town, which he was now doing. “You have my word on that.”

Rasputin’s gaze seemed to steady on Henry’s form and he regarded him as if he were some new form of bug. “Do you know how lucky you are?”

“What do you mean?”

“In all of humanity, there are only a few moments in which mankind receives a true evolutionary push… a point in which we are blessed to receive knowledge from beyond.”

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t.” Rasputin rose from his sitting position and turned to face the flickering flame. “Show this unfortunate just how blessed he truly is,” the Mad Monk proclaimed, raising his hands to the air and throwing his head back in rapture.

What do you wish of me?
A voice rumbled and Henry felt the blood chill in his veins. This was no sound produced by a human voice—this was inhuman and very, very old.

“I need knowledge from beyond,” Rasputin explained. “Have my men killed the one who escaped us before?”

The flames danced madly and Henry got the distinct impression that the alien entity that existed within its confines was considering the matter.
Your men have failed to kill the one called Flynn. They were repelled by one of your fellow countrymen—a man named Leonid Kaslov.

The Mad Monk heard a gasp of surprise from the mayor and he shot the man a withering stare. “Kaslov,” Rasputin whispered, drawing out the name as if tasting it. “I knew a man named Kaslov. After my return from the grave, I slew him in revenge for his role in my assassination. Is this his son?”

It is.

“You don’t know who Leonid Kaslov is?” Henry wondered aloud. He immediately regretted speaking his thoughts aloud as it once again brought Rasputin’s attention upon him.

“I care nothing for the heroes of your media,” the Mad Monk intoned.

“Kaslov is a super-man!” Henry explained. “He’s a brilliant scientist, inventor and adventurer! If he’s after you, then there’s nothing for us to fear—you’re the one who should be worried!”

“My soul was bartered long ago for power beyond your imagining!” Rasputin bellowed, sparks of electricity dancing around his eyes and fingertips. “This creature that stands before us both was brought down from the heavens by my power—by my calling! I have brought the flame of eternal power to Earth!”

“The devil may be on your side,” Henry said, finding hidden reserves of bravery within himself, “but Kaslov will still put you in your place.”

The Mad Monk looked fit to kill but he held off on attacking the man, knowing his popularity with the townspeople. Letting him live would keep them from rising up and causing more trouble for him. Instead, he turned back to the living flame and glowered angrily. “My men say that all the pieces of your rock have been collected. Are you well enough to travel?”

I will not be harmed by the movement.

“Good.” Rasputin’s evil grin returned. “Then the time has come to make sure that the good people of Loggieville will not be able to name us. And who better to test this spell upon than the good mayor?”

As the Mad Monk began to advance upon him, Henry started to scream. His howls of terror were abruptly silenced a moment later, though many in the small town wondered what had just happened. They feared the worst… but were unaware that something worse than death had just taken place.

CHAPTER X

Nocturnal Liaisons

Kaslov’s stature amongst the law enforcement community allowed the resulting investigation to move much faster than it otherwise would have. All of the gunman save for the star-struck Marty refused to speak under interrogation and were taken away by the responding authorities. In light of the assistance he had given, Marty was promised a lighter sentence in the end.

The Russian superman had then retired to his private berth on the train as the passengers began to slowly recover from their scare. Flynn and Libby were both unharmed, though they were full of questions about what Kaslov had learned. Leonid had promised them answers in the morning as they reached Loggieville, preferring to keep his thoughts close to the vest for now. The fact that someone claiming to be Rasputin was involved had unnerved the usually unflappable Kaslov. According to Leonid’s father, Rasputin was undeniably dead. From the few snatches of conversation Leonid had overheard, the Mad Monk had been nearly impossible to push off the mortal coil, but in the end the deed had been done. So who was this person masquerading as Rasputin?

Leonid lay in bed for over an hour, his eyes settled into the gloom. He was somewhat lulled by the gentle rocking of the train but he knew he was not going to get any sleep tonight. He had just considered dressing and walking the corridors for a bit when a soft knocking came at his door. He sat upright, muscles tensed. “Who is it?”

Libby pushed open the door, her delicate features shown clearly thanks to the lighting outside. “It’s just me. Can I come in?”

“Of course. Is something the matter?”

As the pretty young secretary entered the room, shutting the door tightly behind her, Leonid wondered at her appearance. She wore a silky nightgown that clung to the contours of her firm body. It rustled gently as she approached his bed. “Leo… I know this seems very forward of me but… with all the danger we’re facing, it may be the only chance we’ll ever get. I’m madly, terribly in love with you.”

“Libby,” he began, but his words faded as she pushed the nightgown off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She stepped lightly out of it, his keen eyes drinking in her form. She was fit, with long legs and a flat stomach. Leo found himself entranced with the gentle undulation of her belly, a clear sign of her aroused breathing, and he followed the sweep of her body upwards from there, letting his gaze linger for a moment on her magnificent breasts.

“Can I stay with you?” she asked sweetly, letting the fingers of her left hand toy idly up and down her thigh.

Leonid rose from the bed, clad only in his briefs and moved towards her. She tilted her head to accept his kiss but it never came. Instead, he gently took her by the hands. “I am tempted. I truly am. But I can’t do this.”

“But… why? I thought…”

“I do find you attractive, Libby. But I swore an oath to my father that I would make this would a better place. I can’t have distractions from that.”

“But what kind of world will it be if there’s no room for love?” she protested, suddenly feeling ashamed of her nakedness. She pulled away from him and hurriedly dressed. “I’m sorry, Leo. I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry.”

“Libby! Please, let me finish!”

The girl was out the door before the Russian could finish. He let his shoulders sag, feeling the weight of his mission heavy upon him.

* * *

Libby stood with her back to the door, trying to hold in the sobs she felt threatening to overwhelm her.

“If you’re looking for any port in the storm…”

Libby looked over to see Flynn standing in the doorway to his own berth, which was next to Kaslov’s. He looked dashing with a day’s worth of stubble and a half buttoned shirt that had been hurriedly thrown over his slacks. “What” she stammered, trying to hide her emotions but failing miserably.

“I don’t need these thin walls to tell me what just went on in there,” Flynn began. “And I’m telling you that you’re far too beautiful to go back to your own room dressed like that.”

“I’m not that kind of girl,” she protested.

“Never said you were. But you do look like a lonely girl. And I’m damned lonely myself.”

Libby cast a hurt stare back at Leonid’s door. “If you want to throw me away,” she whispered under her breath, “Then so be it.”

Before she could change her mind, she pushed her way into Flynn’s room and pulled him to her, her hands wrapping about his neck.

CHAPTER XI

Deadly Alliances

November 15, 1939

“He said he wanted you to know he was coming for you,” Tony repeated, nervously smoothing back the shock of white hair that had appeared virtually overnight. He’d been too wired to sleep following his encounter with the Reaper but he’d held off on visiting Big Charlie until early the following morning, knowing that his boss wouldn’t react very well to losing any sleep himself. When he’d finally tried to set up a meeting, he’d found out that Charlie was out of town on a business trip, meaning that nearly two days had passed before they’d finally met up and the tale had been told. “The guy was a maniac, Charlie!”

Big Charlie leaned back in his leather chair, which creaked beneath his weight. He chewed on a cigar, idly fingering a glass of bourbon that sat on his mahogany desk. They were in his home, located in the revitalized arts district of the city. It was a study in extravagance, with no discernible pattern to the furnishings other than the large price tag they’d come with. “And you’re telling me you don’t know who the hell he is?” Charlie asked in disbelief. “A guy as big as you’re describing, who has a beef with me and who’s the best marksman on the planet?”