Ibenus (Valducan series) (25 page)

"
Don't
," TommyD spat, "think about it. Slow. Nice and slow. That's right."

Gerhard relaxed the tension from his face. He nodded slow and purposeful. Then he sprung to the side, ripping Umatri from its sheath and charged.

The gun fired, its flash a brilliant yellow. The accompanying boom was so loud it vibrated Gerhard's bones.

Baring his teeth, Gerhard lunged, elbow bent, Umatri aimed before him.

TommyD hopped back, the writhing blade missing him by centimeters. He swung the pistol up at Gerhard's face, its muzzle a silver-ringed black eye.

It flashed again, filling the world with light.

Gerhard never heard the shot.

Chapter Fifteen

Allan squeezed out from the gap and crawled to his feet beside the tracks. He squinted as he looked toward the vans, the distant gleam of sunlight so brilliant it burned into his eyes, the image remaining even after he closed them. Keeping his head down, he headed toward the exit.

The left van's door opened as he neared the gate and Victoria leaned out, smiling back at him. She was beautiful, her short blond hair poking out around the wire headset. He had to look like shit, caked in dust and dried mud.

She said something but he couldn't make it out.

He opened his mouth to respond when a
pop
sounded behind him. Allan turned.
What was that?
A second
pop
sent a spike of fear shooting up his spine.
Gunshot
!

"Gerhard?" he called, his voice chased by echoes.

Silence.

"Hello? Anyone?" Not waiting for a response, Allan ran back down the tunnel. He yanked Ibenus from her sheath, sprang, and swung, blinking a meter forward. He landed, nearly slipping on the gravel, and swung again. "Gerhard!"

Reaching the gap at the floor, Allan scrambled down, sword still in hand.

Hard stone banged his knees and shoulder as he clambered down the stepped crevice. He reached the low, wide passage at the bottom. Rolling to his side, Allan swung Ibenus, blinking forward. He swung and blinked again and again until he reached the edge.

"Stop right there!"

Still on the floor, Allan craned his neck. Gerhard lay on his back, his headlamp shining on the wall. Bits of bright plastic and bloody chunks splattered the floor, leading Allan's gaze to a jagged hole in the back of Gerhard's helmet.
No
!

A crimson laser beam cut through the haze of gun smoke, one end on Allan's chest, the other in shadow. "Don't move, Mister Havlock. Or is it, Sir? I've never met a knight before."

Mouth open in stunned confusion, Allan turned his head, his light finding the speaker. The man held a pistol, his eyes hidden behind night vision goggles.

"Now," the stranger said. Gerhard's killer. "You're going to set that sword on the ground and come out nice and slow."

Gerhard's shoulder holster was gone. Allan scanned for Umatri, finally seeing it tucked in the killer's black web belt.
Bastard
.

"
Now
, Allan," the man said. "Put the sword down."

"How do you know my name?"

The gun came up in reply, held in both hands. "Do it."

Fear vanished into rage. Allan swung Ibenus. A
whoosh
and he was standing upright. Allan lunged, swinging the sword again as the man, still aiming at the floor, fired.

The brilliant flash filled the room. Allan appeared a meter beside where he'd been but staggered as his foot landed. Searing pain shot up from his ankle and he fell against the wall.

The laser swiveled his direction. Allan tried to catch himself to move out of the way, but he only lurched to the side as another deafening
boom
roared. The round struck the wall, zinging. Chips of stone pelted Allan's neck. He fell backwards, yelping as he hit the floor.

Another shot. It hit Allan's vest like a hammer blow and he heard the
crack
of his own ribs. Ibenus fell from his stunned fingers. Ears ringing, and pain shooting from all over, Allan fought through the blackness swimming at the edge of his vision and rolled away as a fourth shot rang out.

He collided into one of the plastic lockers, stopping his roll, a jolt of pain from his injured ribs. Gasping for breath, he looked down to see the red laser dot playing across his body. "Stop," he croaked, unsure if he even made sound. "Stop." Further down, below the ruby dot, Allan now noticed that his ankle was unnaturally twisted to the side, blood pulsing from the bullet hole in his boot. A sudden heat rushed up his spine and coldness washed down. His focus zeroed in on the dark pool spreading below his foot.

"Don't fucking move!" the killer yelled, though it sounded faintly distant above the ringing in his ears.

Pulling his eyes from the crippling wound, Allan saw Ibenus resting on the dusty floor between himself and Gerhard's killer. His own killer.

"Hands where I can see them."

Allan opened his hands.

"Good boy. Now close your eyes."

"W…why?"

"Close them. I don't want to kill you."

Allan closed his eyes.

"Good. Now with your left hand, palm toward me, I want you slowly remove your pistol and toss against that far wall." His voice was calm, like a man talking to a skittish horse.

Allan winced, his ribs protesting the awkward movement, but he managed to draw the silenced gun. There was a moment's thought he could swing it up, grip it and fire, but he knew he'd be dead before he even opened his eyes. The little Walther dug into his back where he pressed against the locker. Not all was lost.
Thank you, Commander Bond
. Keeping his palm out, Allan wrist-tossed the HK to the side and it clattered, maybe four feet away.

"Good."

The voice was familiar and Allan realized the only person it could be:
TommyD
.

Footsteps moved to where Ibenus lay. Braving a peek, Allan squinted one eye as the man knelt. The red laser dot jiggled along Allan's vest.

The quad night-vision tubes looked away as TommyD reached for Ibenus' handle. Seizing the opening, Allan threw himself to the side. He grabbed for the Walther as he rolled and came up, his thumb clicking off the safety.

The laser beam darted toward him and Allan fired.

Dropping Ibenus, TommyD backpedaled, his own gun blasting plumes of fire. Wild shots exploded around Allan, kicking up even more dust. Allan fired twice more, missing as he scrambled backwards like a crab and hid behind the lockers. Bullets pelted the plastic boxes. One shot through while two more slammed off something inside.

Allan came around the side, firing the tiny gun. Ducking, TommyD dove through the doorway behind him and hid in the perpendicular tunnel. A silence fell over the room, Allan's panting the only sounds. Each breath felt like a barbed carving fork digging in his side.

Gulping, Allan checked his gun. He wasn't out. That was good. How many shots had he fired? Five? Six? The gun only held seven and he didn't have any spare magazines for it. He could see the HK lying in the dust a solid five feet away. It held fifteen rounds and he had two spare mags.

TommyD swung out from the opening, gun raised. Allan ducked and hunkered as three rapid shots pelted around him. Blindly, he stuck his gun out from behind his cover and returned fire. The slide locked back. Empty.

Praying that TommyD had hidden from the ineffective shots, Allan lunged toward the HK, falling more than jumping. His broken ribs screamed from the impact. Gritting his teeth, he clawed until he found the polymer grip and brought it up just as TommyD was coming out for another shot. Allan fired, sending the killer back behind cover.

Allan clicked the light under the barrel, unleashing a brilliant white beam. He held it on the door, ready for the first hint of movement as he dragged himself back to the lockers. Mud squished between his fingers. Water pooled around the tubs from where one of TommyD's bullets had evidently struck the extra water bags. It swirled with Allan's blood that was now everywhere. If he didn't do something about that he might pass out before the fight was over.

Allan's thick belt was no good for a tourniquet. He needed something else. Lifting to his knees, Allan kept the gun trained on the door with one hand with his other blindly moved along the lid. The long suppressor and the tactical light made it feel infinitely heavier than his Walther had and he had to fight to keep the barrel still. He found the clasp on one side of the box and released it with an audible
thunk
.

Still no movement at the door. Allan reached across his body and popped the other latch free. TommyD leaned out, the gun already raised and the laser slicing through the dusty air toward him. Allan fired. The shot pelted the wall beside TommyD's muffed ear and TommyD fell back behind cover before getting a shot off.

Heart racing, Allan flipped off the locker's lid and reached inside. He touched the loosely coiled loop of antennae wire from one of the repeaters. He felt along it until he reached the end and unscrewed it from the unit.

Allan eyed the doorway. He was going to require both hands to tie the tourniquet but he didn't want to lower his guard.
Better make it fast
.

He drew a long breath, held it, then dropped behind the boxes and began tying the ten-foot cable at his knee.

A baby's laughter shattered the silence. Innocent. Terrifying. Close.

Fucking hell
. Allan cinched the cable, his ribs burning at the strain, but the blood was still flowing from his boot. Frantically, he searched around for something to use as a winding lever.

An infant's coo, then shots erupted from the hallway.

Allan hunkered down, one hand on the half-tied tourniquet, the other grabbing his gun.

Sobs and wails poured from the passage ahead, punctuated by the rapid
pop
,
pop
,
pop
, and flashes of gunfire. Lying on his back, Allan aimed his pistol along the side of a locker.

TommyD launched past the doorway so fast Allan couldn't get a shot before the man was already down the left passage. The infant cries grew louder. Then four screamers scuttled into view, three along the wall and another on the floor, black ooze dribbling from a severed leg. They continued down the hall, not paying a moment's attention to the room where Allan hid.

A pale mantismere with burnt orange stripes came next. Allan froze as it stopped in the doorway. Its black eyes shied from the brilliant light of his gun and turned toward Gerhard's corpse. Ibenus lay just a few feet from it, far closer to the demon than to Allan. Its mandibles clacked like some old Morse message.

Shots came from somewhere down the passage. The beast swiveled its head, hissed, and hurried after its minions.

Allan released his breath. Keeping his eyes on the passage entrance, he drew the round, aluminum torch from his belt, worked it into the tourniquet wire, and began to wind it tighter. The all-too familiar stink of rotted flesh prickled his nose. Evidently TommyD had killed a screamer.

His gaze moved to Gerhard's body, dead eyes staring upward.
This is my fault
, he scolded.
I shouldn't have left him alone
. That cocker might have pulled the trigger but Gerhard's blood was on Allan's hands. Now Umatri was gone.

The shots were growing more distant. Four more screamers ran past.

Allan scrunched his eyes to wipe away the stinging sweat. He was cold and he wondered how bad he was bleeding on the inside. He pictured the splintered bone chewing into his lungs with each movement.

No time for that. Just get Ibenus and get out
.
I need to warn the others
. He looked down long enough to tie off the tourniquet. A new shot of terror hit, washing away the cold as he turned back to the doorway.

Two doll-faced screamers stood at the entrance. One cocked its head and giggled. Somewhere nearby another responded, followed by the clicking of tiny legs. Allan's grip tensed on the gun as the two bugs scuttled into the room. They stepped over Ibenus and headed toward him.

Chapter Sixteen

"I suppose that answers that," Victoria grumbled as Allan raced back down the tunnel. The red light from atop his helmet seemed to strobe as he blinked his way back to the catacomb's entrance. She'd yelled that the radios were out, then he'd shouted Gerhard's name, and raced off.

"These repeaters are shit." Sam stared at the black screen that only seconds before had shown Gerhard sitting on a stone bench. "I say we disassemble them all and start over."

"Well, it'll give us something to do." Victoria shut the door before all the cold air could escape. Sitting here while Allan crawled around in a labyrinth looking for a fight was bad enough. But as Sam had warned, the silence was the worst. Rewiring electronics might help keep her mind off of it. She snorted.
Not likely
.

With the exception of those silent terrors while the radios were down, the day had been spectacularly dull. There had been a brief moment when a police car had slowed as it rolled past the drive's entrance, but then it continued on.
Nothing to see here. Just a repair crew. Carry on
. The police car, or another one, Victoria couldn't tell, had passed again two hours later, but didn't even slow.

The only other lingering itch was TommyD. She thought about him every time she or Sam stepped out to stretch their legs and every car or cyclist that slowed along the overpass sent tingles along the back of her scalp. He'd never responded to her scolding for that last video stunt and her promise to get him a weapon. Hopefully that meant he understood and was going to lay low and stop stirring the nest.

Of course that only delayed the inevitable. How could she ensure that he wouldn't post the other information she'd sent him? Once he figured out she wasn't going to come through, he'd simply just post all of it. Names, addresses, detailed demon and weapon dossiers. Enough information to ruin the Order. Even if they did somehow endure the exposure, she wouldn't. They'd leave her in the ashes, her name scrubbed from memory and only referred to as 'The Betrayer' just like Anya. She wanted to tell Allan, but how?
I'm sorry, but before I got to know you and fell in love, and I really do love you, I sent every file I could find to the man who wants to expose you. Can you forgive me?
No, she needed to fix this before she confessed.