"SPINNER OF WEBS II: Masks Beneath Masks"
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dochermes"SPINNER OF WEBS II: Masks Under Masks"
3/22-3/25/2014
I.
Naked but hardly aware of it, Sable stood out on the balcony overlooking Central Park West. She looked down from a height of sixty-eight stories at the tops of trees and the paired headlights moving along Fifth Avenue. It was warm for a night in late March, without a breeze, and she turned her eyes up to the sky. No stars were visible. She rested her hands on the silver railing and felt the gauzy curtains of the French windows behind her rustle.
Lauren Sable Reilly felt groggy from so much lovemaking. She looked down at her own taut body, lightly muscled like a gymnast's, her breasts still firm as a teenager's, her abdomen concave. More than a decade of Kumundu training made her more fit than most athletes without being obvious. Tonight, her body had surprised her with what it was capable of feeling. She had never reacted with such passion before and it left her in a blissful daze.
The soft pad of bare feet came up behind her on the marble balcony and a warm body pressed up against her back. The faintest of kisses brushed the back of her neck, left exposed by her hair being tied up in a chignon. "You are always thinking, my dear," whispered a husky voice.
"More than I should," Sable answered. She reached down to clasp her hands on the strong arms wrapped around her from behind. "I'm sure it's later than I realize. My team must be worried about me by now."
Coming around to stand beside her, also nude, Olivia Wang was a hypnotizing sight. Tall at five feet seven, slim with well-shaped curves under a golden peach-colored skin smooth as silk, the Alchemist was so perfect she hardly looked real... but it was all natural. The thick glossy black hair reached her waist. Even in the faint light coming up from the street far below, her feline eyes gleamed bright green. Gently, she caressed the skin on Sable's lower back and drew a shudder.
"Was this not time well spent?" she asked.
"Oh, God, yes. I have never felt like this. I didn't know I could feel like this." Sable took in a deep breath, closed her eyes and forced herself to focus. "But I have duty. Responsibility. Olivia, my team is waiting for me to lead them. My life is under the shadow of the Midnight War."
Olivia moved around and kissed her with soft lips that tasted of mint. "I do not think you wish to put on that armor again, to buckle on those weapons and to go out into the night chasing the children of darkness. I think you much prefer to stay with me."
"It's not about want I want," Sable forced herself to say. "It's what I have promised to do. Oh, Olivia, this still does not seem real. Don't be mad at me."
"Come in from the chill," the daughter of Tzing-Dao Wang said. She took Sable by one arm and led her back into an elegant suite furnished with quiet taste, the furniture was hand-crafted and incredibly expensive but not showy. They went past the open door of the bedroom and settled down on the long pale gold couch with its many pillows. "I am not angry with you," Olivia said. "I know the demands of duty too well. See, it is just one-thirty in the morning. Return to your headquarters and reassure your team. There will be other nights for us."
Her clothing was in a loose tangle over one chair. Slowly, as if dipping her feet into icy water, Sable opened what looked like a leotard of black silk and slipped it on. She closed the paramagnetic seams and tugged out the arms and legs from where they had retracted. Now only her head, feet and hands were left exposed by the Trom armor. Once she had that on, the rest of her clothing went on easier. The sensible shoes, Navy blue slacks and white blouse, the black blazer with its single flap across the front. Standing up, she sighed so unhappily that Olivia laughed.
"Oh, Sable, this is not the end. My dear, our lives go on and what we share just enriches it." Still naked herself, she took the Tel Shai knight by the arm and walked her toward the door to the hallway. "I think soon you will understand."
Standing with one hand on the doorknob, Sable gazed at the delicate features of the Asian woman she had fallen for so quickly and so hard. "My team has been investigating your father's activities," she said. "We mustn't forget how dangerous things are right now. I am sure he suspects you intend to stop his reign of terror."
"Let him suspect what he will," Olivia replied lightly. "I have always been able to best him at any game from Go to chess. This is no different. But you, my darling, take care. You walk in deep dangerous waters."
Sable opened the door but then suddenly blurted, "I am still not sure I'm gay, Olivia. It's just because of you. You're so special. I think just being with you has turned me?"
The Chinese woman was still smiling affectionately. "Labels do not matter. Feelings do. Call me when you can. I will be in this city for a few more days at least." She leaned forward and Sable met her with a kiss that was slow and tender. Then the Tel Shai knight went out into the hall without another word and walked around the corner to the twin elevators. She felt as if her regular life was a daydream and she was walking away from what mattered.
II.
Back on Fifth Avenue, with cars honking as usual and the wail of a siren in the distance and the excited chatter of a group of tourists hurrying past, Sable snapped back to something more like her normal self. She waved and a taxi stopped immediately. Being a good-looking young woman in respectable clothes had some advantages. She got in the back and asked to go to East 38th Street and Lexington Avenue.
As the cab made its way through relatively light traffic, Sable unclipped her Link and saw she had turned it off at some point. That was odd. She never turned the device off even when working undercover. Three calls from HQ were indicated, the most recent being ten minutes earlier. Sable sent a green signal, basically indicating that she was fine, but she did not place a call. In a few minutes, she would be back at base anyway.
Only the ground floor of the old stone building had lights in the window. Sable paid the driver, hopped out and flipped open a concealed panel by the front door to reveal a keypad. She tapped in her own ID number and heard the familiar buzzes and clicks as the alarms shut down. Opening the door, she waited in the tiny vestibule as the Trom sensors identified her again, scanning her as thoroughly as any CT machine could. Satisfied she was no threat, the inner door unlocked.
Sable stepped into the dimly lit front hall with its wide staircase up to the second floor in front of her. Every hall in the building was lined with shelves crammed with the thousands of occult volumes Kenneth Dred had collected in his long life.To her right was the emergency ward and to her left was her office. Light came from the open door of that office. Suddenly uncomfortable as if she should feel guilty, Sable went into the room where she had spent so much time in the past fourteen years.
Leaning back on the couch facing the door, feet up on a hassock, Timothy Limbo was regarding one of the tiny whirlwinds of gralic energy that hovered over his open hand. He was wearing what was almost a uniform for him, white T-shirt and ragged jeans and motorcycle boots, although the leather jacket hung over a chair. He had not noticed Sable yet. She looked at his narrow, good-natured face under its mop of bright yellow hair and suddenly she was glad he was there.
"What are you watching?" she asked, shrugging out of her blazer and hanging it on a hook near the door.
"Oh. Hi, Sable. My caspers are showing me three sailors dancing in Bryant Park. I think they're more than a little drunk. You're late. Weren't you supposed to be back around eleven?"
Hoping her face was not getting red with embarrassment, Sable came over and pulled up a straightback wooden chair to face him. "Everything takes longer than you expect," she said casually. "Where's the team?"
"Working in pairs. They all are chasing down leads on what this Spinner of Webs is up to. Haley and Jin are down in North Carolina, Jocelyn and Josef went to Florida. As masterminds go, this Tzing-Dao Wang is busy. He has operations going on all over the place."
Leaning forward, Sable suddenly felt weary. She realized she had not eaten anything since breakfast. Being with Olivia had been all she had cared about. "You know what worries me, Tim? All of the Spinner's activities seem so... innocuous. He uses Alchemy for such mild crimes. He sells Velocitin to a track star. He sells the water-breathing serum Bernicas to a group of deepsea smugglers in case of emergencies. And so on. It's all illegal and certainly not harmless.. the track star is cheating in a race after all and being unfair to his competitors. But it's not as vile as I expected."
"Yeah," Timothy agreed, "I was thinking the same thing. I expected lots of murders by untraceable poisons or making people into slaves with the brain-dead serum. Other Alchemists used their Art for real disgusting crimes. But this Wang guy doesn't seem so bad."
Sable stood up again. "I think we are not digging deeply enough. His daughter tells me he has been using torture and assassination for decades. He is feared in the Chinese community here and in Boston and in San Francisco. We must look harder." She turned to leave the room. "I'm starving, I'm just going to make a sandwich. Do you want anything?"
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks." Timothy Limbo watched his captain leave the room. The thought crossed his mind that they only had the word of the daughter, Olivia Wang, who said that Wang was a horrible fiend who used his Alchemy for monstrous ends. Timothy dismissed his doubt at once because he knew Sable's power of enhanced perception made her a more accurate lie detector than any machine. He knew Sable could count a person's heart rate from across a room, smell the level of adrenalin in someone's perspiration, judge pupil dilation or detect subvocal tremors that meant lying. In his experience, Lauren Sable Reilly was the one people alive who could not be deceived.
But then, he did not know of her feelings for Olivia...
Timothy summoned his caspers back and dismissed them. Barely visible even in good light, the swirls of energy resembled transparent tornados a few inches high. He could 'see' in his mind whatever they saw, but they also could bring back sights to him that they had witnessed while he was not paying attention. Timothy desperately want to have them able to move objects. They would be invaluable if they could even knock things over or turn on light switches. So far, on a few rare occasions, they had been able to depress keys on a laptop or make a lamp flicker but that was it. He kept trying.
Sable came back with a tray that held two sandwiches on separate plates. made with three slices of rye bread with thick servings of boiled ham, cheese, sliced tomatoes and onions, and mustard, the sandwiches were accompanied by tumblers of iced tea. "I made one for you," she told the happily surprised man. "I figured once you saw one, you'd be sorry you turned it down."
"You're the BEST captain ever," Timothy said, gratefully taking a huge bite. "Listen, we have one solid lead right here in town. Some of Jeremy's observers have started working for us too, since he's semi-retired and such. It involves a garage over by Riverside Drive. Our report is that some of the guys there have been buying a powerful solvent from an agent of the Spinner. Apparently they strip the paint off a stolen car in a few seconds with a dilution of this stuff and can have it repainted right away. A concentrated dab of the solvent removes the VIN from the engine."
"Grand Theft Auto, running a hot car shop," mused Sable as she chewed thoughtfully. "Well, it's a bunch of felonies."
"But you see what I mean? It's so... mundane! I was expecting huge horrifying crime waves. This is disappointing to be honest. It's as if this Spinner of Webs doesn't have heart in being a real sinister mastermind." Timothy took another mouthful. "Sandwich is great, by the way."
Sable did not comment for a few minutes. "All I can conclude," she said at last, "is that we are barely scratching the surface. It took Jeremy and the first team years to find out enough about the empire of Wu Lung for them to attack. We have only been investigating a month or two."
"You know, I'm not sleepy at all," Timothy said as he finished his sandwich and downed most of the iced tea with one gulp. "Between your perception and my caspers, we're the two members both qualified for snooping. How about we loiter in the area of that garage tonight?"
She smiled at his zeal. "You're right, Tim. We need to be a bit more proactive and less reactive. Field suits for us both. We'll take the Toyota and head over there as soon as we change."
"Now there's the Sable I know!" he said as he jumped up and headed for the hall. Behind him, she wished felt as much enthusiasm but for some reason she just wasn't happy with the whole situation. Part of her wanted to call Olivia and ask for advise, but she dismissed that thought sternly and went up the stairs to her quarters to change.
III.
As they headed crosstown and up to the West 90s, Sable could not stop thinking about Olivia. Back in college, a teenage Lauren Sable Reilly had dated a few men and had slept with only two of them over the course of a year. Looking back, she had wondered at the time why sex was so overrated and why everyone had made such a big deal about what turned out to be pleasant but not compelling. Now she thought she understood her reactions better. Since joining the KDF more than a dozen years earlier, she had politely accepted a few dinner dates with men she found agreeable company but nothing further had ever happened.
A few times, Unicorn had teased her about having taken a vow of chastity, and Sable had dismissed the little blonde's teasing but now everything seemed more clear. Why had she been denying the obvious? Why had she--
At the wheel, Timothy Limbo reached over and lightly shoved her by the shoulder facing him. "Hey! Captain! Did you go out of body or something?"
"What? Sorry."
"You haven't said a word since we left the headquarters," he said. "I'm pulling over here. We're on West 96th Street."
Sable looked around outside at a slightly seedy neighborhood and then at the dashboard clock. It was two-fifty AM. "I was thinking. Give me a layout of the scene, please."
"According to my caspers, we're dealing with two buildings. The Rapid Oil Change has an office, bathroom and waiting room, with a bay that can hold four cars at a time. Right behind it, in fact you reach its front door by driving past the Oil Change, is the Rapid Auto Supply store. That's a two story cement building painted white. Now, they both close at nine and there's really no reason why three or four men would be going in and out at this time of night. They were last seen an hour ago. The images I get from my friendly ghosts show me these guys are all Asian, too, which is another odd thing."
She turned her head and nodded as if noticing him for the first time. They were both wearing the field suits, with the heavy boots, pants and waist-length jacket with its own inner layer of the Trom armor. In the small of her back, she could feel the holstered dart gun. "Are you going to wear the helmet, Tim?"
"I don't think so," he answered. "The electronics in the helmet seems to interfere with my connection to my caspers. What about you?"
"Same here, really. I want to rely on my own enanced senses rather than readouts on the inside of a visor. And we're just snooping around tonight."
Timothy had parked across the street from the buildings, two blocks south. It was the only open slot he could find. "What's your plan, captain?"
"Hmmm? Well, we will approach a few minutes apart. You go in first and check out the Auto Parts store. Disable the alarms with your Link and poke around. I will circle the block and then get into the Oil Change place. I doubt if anything will be found on the computers used for customers. Our best bet is finding concealed drawers with incriminating papers."
IV.
The White Web assassin was an experienced master at his trade. It was not enough to simply be a martial artist of great skill, nor to be cold-blooded enough to slay even an infant if ordered, as he had been. To join the White Web, an applicant chose one of the assassins already gathered in the Dark Hall in the mountains of Nepal. Weaponless, wearing only a loincloth provided, the applicant and the established member fought to the death before the Grandmasters. Every assassin of the White Web had earned his status by killing a member who had been there before him. Those who were aging or not keeping their skilled honed were weeded out on a regular basis by these challenges.
This one was a Thai, tall and muscular, wrapped in dark robes sashed at the waist, with a hood and mask concealing his features. His orders were to kill anyone who came here unbidden after hours and he rushed silently at the intruder with open hands ready to rip the windpipe out of the stranger. One second, the area behind the warehouse was empty and silent. In the next, a black-clad professional murderer was rushing from the shadows.
Barely five feet ten and reaching one hundred and seventy pounds on a good day, Timothy Limbo was not an inposing sight. His bland face was not calculated to strike fear in any hearts. As the White Web killer hurtled at him, Timothy seemed not to be fully aware of his danger. But he had been given a year's worth of studying Kumundu under Teacher Chael of Tel Shai, the man who had instructed Jeremy Bane, Shiro Mitsuru, Golden Sun and many others. Timothy Limbo did not often fight hand to hand because his specialty was gathering intelligence but that did not make him harmless.
As the White Web man lunged forward, Timothy took a single step to one side and smashed his elbow down between the man's shoulder blades. The assassin was driven flat on the oil-stained asphalt but even before he hit the surface, Timothy had given him a front snap kick that sent him skidding on his stomach. By chance, the White Web killer slid mostly under the Prius that was up on a jack with its rear wheel off. As the assassin whipped a long-bladed knife out from its sheath behind his right shoulder, Timothy Limbo calmly stepped forward and kicked the jack over. The Prius fell right on the White Web, breaking his back and driving the air from his lungs. After a few seconds of agonized struggle, he died.
For a long moment, Timothy stood there silently. In his year as a Tel Shai knight and a KDF member, he had taken only a handful of lives. Each time, it troubled him deeply. it was such a fateful action, stealing away the one thing a human being could truly call his own. In an intellectual way, Tim realized that this had been a heartless killer who had certainly been intent and ready to kill him when Tim had done him no harm. Timothy also realized that by this action he had saved the lives of all the future victims of a career assassin. None of that helped. He stared down at the head and arm protruding from beneath the car and the sight seemed shameful.
Timothy thought of how blithely Dimrak Jin slew opponents. She had been brought up in a warrior culture and to her it was something to take pride in. The same for Josef Jubilec, raised by the Blind Archer sect. To him, killing was not good or evil, it was just a way of dealing with enemies. Tim didn't think he would ever become like his teammates in that regard and he was glad. He didn't want to become hardened to taking life.
Summoning three of the caspers, he held out his hands palm up and watched as the little whirlpools came spinning in to gather in front of them. Whether they were independent life forms who had attached themselves to him, or whether they were merely manifestations of gralic force controlled by his own mind, he was glad to see them. His 'friendly ghosts.'"Hey, fellas," he said out loud, "Spread out. Find Sable and hurry back to tell me where she is."
Swift as thought, the caspers swirled away. Timothy reached behind him to draw the anesthetic dart gun from its holster beneath his field suit jacket. He checked that the safety was off on the strange needle-barreled weapon and held it with both hands as he moved around the back lot. No other car had been left back here to be worked on after hours, there was a dumpster with a couple of splintered packing crates next to it, and a single beat-up chair. Timothy stepped closer. In an empty coffee can, crumpled cigarette butts were piled high. This was where workers at the hot car shop came for their smoke breaks.
Two sides of this back lot were bordered with a high wooden fence that provided some privacy. To his left was the blank cement block wall of the auto parts store, windowless, with only a single metal door marked NO ADMITTANCE. Behind him was the rear of the garage itself, with two glass-paneled doors which slid up and down on tracks. Everything looked dark inside. A single light bulb in a metal frame burned over the side door of the garage. Timothy waited for reports from his caspers.
After a few minutes, he tried to see through their perception and received nothing. This had not happened before. Cautiously, he reached out to make stronger contact with them and got nowhere. Now he was really worried. Nothing had ever interfered with his caspers before.
V.
A bucket of icy water crashing over her head brought Sable awake again. She gasped at the shock of the freezing liquid over her bruised and aching head. The KDF team leader tried to catch her breath. Where was she? Her awareness came back through dull throbbing pain. Her arms were tied behind her in the solid metal chair, bound with wire so tightly that she could not feel her hands. Her feet were also tied together at the ankle. But she wasn't tied to the chair, she thought after flexing her arms and legs. Through sheer effort, Sable forced her eyes open and took in her surroundings.
This was a dank cellar, with unfinished stone walls and a floor of rough concrete. On a wire from the ceiling hung a naked 75-watt bulb which cast everything in merciless detail. Sable looked down to see her field suit had been stripped off her, but she remained in the one-piece flexible Trom armor. So many times had she been grateful that its paramagnetic seams were beyond Human ability to open. Although her head felt as if it had been beaten, there was no pain in the rest of her body because of the silk-thin armor dissipating any blows she had taken.
Sable raised her head painfully, finding her nose stuffed with dried blood and her eyes swollen almost shut. This did not alarm her. Years of the tagra regimen had boosted her healing factor so that these injuries should fade quickly. It was the corpse in the chair facing her that she found alarming.
The man had been Chinese, but it was hard to tell much more considering his condition. Tied sitting up as Sable was but bound directly to the heavy chair, the man was covered with bloody tatters of flesh. His eyes were empty sockets, his mouth gaped open to show stubs where teeth had been broken off. None of the fingernails remained. It had not been an easy death.
Even as Sable absorbed the details of the situation with a sinking heart, she felt a draft as a door opened behind her. Light footsteps followed, and a tall elderly man walked around to stand behind the tortured corpse.
"You have been looked for the Spinner of Webs," said the man in a hushed tone. "It will not bring you happiness. I am Tzing-Dao Wang." He was only four inches over five feet in height, bent with age but walking without assistance. His thin body was wrapped in a gorgeous robe of green silk laced with golden threads in complicated patterns, his hands hidden within the voluminous sleeves. The Spinner of Webs had a long mournful face marked with creases and wrinkles from which a bony nose and a pair of jade-green eyes peered sharply at her.
From the shadows, a servant in Western clothing brought a chair for Wang, who sat down easily and nodded to dismiss the man. The Alchemist sat beside the murdered man and watched Sable as if debating her fate.
"You knocked me out with an Alchemical gas," she said to begin. "The red fog. The same gas your daughter used."
"Your presence here offends me," the Spinner of Webs replied. "Not only a woman, but a weak American white devil woman, sent here to confront me. I take this as an insult. Where is the one called Dire Wolf? Only he has earned my respect."
"That's some speech," Sable scoffed. She could feel her head clearing as her healing abilities rapidly repaired damage that would mean days in the ICU for a normal person. "I can sure believe that you were born in China a hundred years ago because your attitude shows it."
"I am the most unfortunate of men," Wang continued. "Fate has not blessed me with a son, despite many wives and concubines. I have only a useless daughter to whom I cannot trust my empire when I cross to meet my ancestors."
"You do realize that the male determines the sex of the child, right? Have you heard about X and Y chromosomes?"
"Be silent. Your life is already forfeit, it is now just a question of how long you suffer." The Spinner of Webs inclined his head toward the gruesome cadaver next to him. "This was one of my servants, a miserable man named Yung-Hua. He showed too much regard for my insignficant daughter and, like her, did not pay me proper respect. I believe it was this fool who informed you that this garage is one of my properies. You can see his reward."
Sable started taking deep slow breaths, bringing in oxygen to speed her healing process. This mastermind wanted something from her. Otherwise, he would have simply have had her killed and her body disposed of. She remembered too that Timothy Limbo was in the area somewhere, searching for her and ready to intervene. Wang would have mentioned the death or capture of Tim to demoralize her.
"You know, it's funny in a disappointing way," she said, as calmly as if having lunch with a friend instead of being held prisoner in a torture chamber. "I was beginning to wonder if we were being misled about how wicked you were. The more I learned of your various rackets, the less heinous they seemed. I thought maybe you were not all that bad."
This seemed to amuse the ancient Alchemist. He reached up with a hand concealed within its sleeve and tapped the ruined corpse beside him. "Sentimental fool. You will never understand. None of us in the Midnight War are what we seem to be at first. We wear masks under masks. I thought you might bring profit in a Hong Kong brothel, white women always do well at first. But no. More important is that valuable secrets of Tel Shai are in your head and I will extract them."
"You can try," she answered.
The Spinner of Webs rose to his feet without effort, standing before his prisoner with no expression on his face. "Do not deceive yourself," he said. "Even your enhanced healing has its limits. Courage has its limits as well. Once your fingers and toes are gone, then an ear, then an eye, your defiance will depart with them. Whatever pain you have survived in the past, it was but a hint of the suffering you will be put through now. I will return after you are broken and have begun to talk." With that, he turned and passed beside her. She felt the air currents change as a door opened and closed where she could not see it.
Left alone with the corpse facing her, Sable shifted her weight and drew her feet up beneath her. She felt a twinge of guilt at having begun to have doubted Olivia. Timothy had started her suspecting the Alchemist's daughter of exaggerating her father's crimes and Sable was sorry now she had started to go along with it. But she had no intention of ending up like the ruined carcass before her and she certainly did not intend to reveal the secrets of Tel Shai to a fiend like the Spinner of Webs. Using the muscles in her thighs and abdomen, she lurched up to her feet with her hands still bound behind her. Why she hadn't been tied to the chair itself was puzzling but there was no time to wonder about that now.
Adjusting her balance, bending slightly forward, Sable leaped straight up and drew her knees up to her chest as hard as she could. Still in the air for that second, she brought her hands forward under her bare feet and landed well, without a stumble. All the daily stretching and excercise and practicising her DohRa form always paid off when she needed the benefits. She was still tied but at least now her hands were in front of her. Where was something to unwind the wire tying her wrists and ankles? Had the torturers left behind any tools, hopefully pliers? She looked around anxiously. The circulation in her hands and feet had already been cut off too long.
The door to the cellar opened and a stocky Asian man in dark clothing with a dispposable plastic apron stepped through. He was holding a tray of scalpels and tweezers and needles in his hands. Sable instantly judged the distance and dove forward, tucking her head in to perform a forward somersault that brought her bound feet up together right in the man's face. They both fell in an awkward tumble. It had been an amazing manuever, but Sable found she could not follow up on it. She was just at too much of a disadvantage with her wrists and ankles tied. As she rolled over and tried to get up, the thug seized her by the hair and yanked her up on her feet, then punched her straight across the jaw. She took the blow squarely and fell in a heap with her head spinning.
There was a sharp cracking thud and the Chinese man dropped limply next to her. Getting over onto her back, Sable saw Timothy Limbo holstering his dart gun and coming to bend over her.
"If a girl ever needed a friend!" she gasped.
"I didn't use a dart, I just clubbed him with the butt. Maybe I got mad when I saw him punch you." Timothy helped her get up into a seated position on the floor. "Geez, boss. Your hands and feet are purple. Let's get that wire off." From a clip on his belt, he took a small multi-tool and began working the bonds off her.
Sable quickly filled him in on what had happened while he worked. Timothy took a second to glance over at the gruesome body still sitting in its chair.
"I guess I owe your friend Olivia an apology," he said. "It looks like she wasn't steering us wrong about her father."
As soon as she was freed, Sable began flexing her fingers and kneading her feet. The burning as blood began to move through her extremities again was agony but she was glad she could feel it. "What's going on here? What do your caspers tell you?"
"The Spinner of Webs himself has left the stage," Timothy told her, helping her massage circulation back. "My boys say there's only one more henchman in the building. He's going through your field suit and trying to figure out the gadgets. Your Link shut down as soon as it was far enough away from you."
"We have to get my gear back," she said, standing up. "Ow. My poor feet. I shouldn't complain. That guy you slugged was coming in to start skinning me."
Timothy went over to check on the man and came back with a funny catch in his voice. "He's dead, captain. I guess I hit him harder than I thought. That's the second man I killed tonight."
Hearing his tone, Sable said, "I wouldn't feel bad about it, Tim. He was coming down here to torture me... the same way he did that poor guy in the chair over there."
"Still a hell of a thing to do, killing someone," Timothy told her. "It bothers me.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. "If it helps, you saved me from being cut up alive for information and then killed. Come on, let's get my suit and clear out of here. We've learned what we need to know."
Still looking miserable, Timothy drew his dart gun and handed it to her. "Here, Sable. You're a better shot than I am. I'll distract the guy with a casper right in front of his face. He'll think something is wrong with his eyes and you can tranquilize him."
She nodded. Her hands and feet felt normal again, and her grip on the air-powered pistol was steady. "Then we'll begin our campaign against Tzing-Dao Wang for real. I'm calling in the entire team for this. The Spinner of Webs is going to fall. Olivia did the right thing in alerting us to her father's activities."
VII.
In a tiny apartment above the HAPPY DUCK restaurant on Canal Street, the man who had presented himself as Tzing-Dao Wang to the tied-up Sable sat down at his breakfast table. Opposite him was a beautiful Asian woman with bright green eyes. She was wearing a simple dark pullover and slacks, with her hair pulled back into a thick ponytail. Oddly, she also had on blue silk gloves with rolled cuffs at the wrist.
"You have done well, Lin-Po. My father used you many times to impersonate him when he had to appear in public while busy elsewhere," Olivia Wang said.
"Or when there was danger of assassination," Lin-Po replied. "There was always a generous bonus then."
"That is true. You have a strong resemblance to my father in the first place and plastic surgery touched up the few differences. Only someone who knows him intimately would suspect you are not the Spinner of Webs." Olivia leaned back and smiled wickedly. "Deception and misdirection are better than brute force. We rule best behind masks under masks."
Lin-Po inclined his head respectfully. "I am yours to command, my lady."
"Mutilating the corpse of the informer was distasteful but worth it," Olivia said. "I expect Sable to escape the questioner, especially with her teammate in the area but now she will be convinced of my father's.. Wait. Let me see your hands."
Puzzled, Lin-Po stretched out both hands across the table, palms up. Quick as a snake striking, Olivia Wang jabbed a long bronze needle deep into the the man's left palm and held it in, keeping his wrist steady with her other hand. He gasped in surprise and fear but already was having difficulty breathing. His face went pale and his lips turned blue.
"Alchemists have ten thousand poisons to choose from," the beautiful woman told the dying man. "I regret this, Lin-Po. You have served me well, as you have served my father before me. But secrets are best kept by one person and who knows when your tongue may slip and give me away. There. Dead already."
Standing up, Olivia Wang gazed down at the body. The Velkandu serum left no signs that would indicate anything other than heart attack to even a Medical Examiner who was looking for foul play. Lin-Po had been eighty-one. The cause of death woud be obvious. Even if her father was suspicious of the death of his best stand-in, it was too late for him to try to determine if she was responsible. The war between daughter and father had been too well planned to be stopped now. Olivia stood up and carefully replaced the chair so there was no clue someone had been sitting there. The silk gloves left no fingerprints. She fought down a satisfied chuckle. Soon there would be a new Spinner of Webs on the throne of crime.
10/6/2016
3/22-3/25/2014
I.
Naked but hardly aware of it, Sable stood out on the balcony overlooking Central Park West. She looked down from a height of sixty-eight stories at the tops of trees and the paired headlights moving along Fifth Avenue. It was warm for a night in late March, without a breeze, and she turned her eyes up to the sky. No stars were visible. She rested her hands on the silver railing and felt the gauzy curtains of the French windows behind her rustle.
Lauren Sable Reilly felt groggy from so much lovemaking. She looked down at her own taut body, lightly muscled like a gymnast's, her breasts still firm as a teenager's, her abdomen concave. More than a decade of Kumundu training made her more fit than most athletes without being obvious. Tonight, her body had surprised her with what it was capable of feeling. She had never reacted with such passion before and it left her in a blissful daze.
The soft pad of bare feet came up behind her on the marble balcony and a warm body pressed up against her back. The faintest of kisses brushed the back of her neck, left exposed by her hair being tied up in a chignon. "You are always thinking, my dear," whispered a husky voice.
"More than I should," Sable answered. She reached down to clasp her hands on the strong arms wrapped around her from behind. "I'm sure it's later than I realize. My team must be worried about me by now."
Coming around to stand beside her, also nude, Olivia Wang was a hypnotizing sight. Tall at five feet seven, slim with well-shaped curves under a golden peach-colored skin smooth as silk, the Alchemist was so perfect she hardly looked real... but it was all natural. The thick glossy black hair reached her waist. Even in the faint light coming up from the street far below, her feline eyes gleamed bright green. Gently, she caressed the skin on Sable's lower back and drew a shudder.
"Was this not time well spent?" she asked.
"Oh, God, yes. I have never felt like this. I didn't know I could feel like this." Sable took in a deep breath, closed her eyes and forced herself to focus. "But I have duty. Responsibility. Olivia, my team is waiting for me to lead them. My life is under the shadow of the Midnight War."
Olivia moved around and kissed her with soft lips that tasted of mint. "I do not think you wish to put on that armor again, to buckle on those weapons and to go out into the night chasing the children of darkness. I think you much prefer to stay with me."
"It's not about want I want," Sable forced herself to say. "It's what I have promised to do. Oh, Olivia, this still does not seem real. Don't be mad at me."
"Come in from the chill," the daughter of Tzing-Dao Wang said. She took Sable by one arm and led her back into an elegant suite furnished with quiet taste, the furniture was hand-crafted and incredibly expensive but not showy. They went past the open door of the bedroom and settled down on the long pale gold couch with its many pillows. "I am not angry with you," Olivia said. "I know the demands of duty too well. See, it is just one-thirty in the morning. Return to your headquarters and reassure your team. There will be other nights for us."
Her clothing was in a loose tangle over one chair. Slowly, as if dipping her feet into icy water, Sable opened what looked like a leotard of black silk and slipped it on. She closed the paramagnetic seams and tugged out the arms and legs from where they had retracted. Now only her head, feet and hands were left exposed by the Trom armor. Once she had that on, the rest of her clothing went on easier. The sensible shoes, Navy blue slacks and white blouse, the black blazer with its single flap across the front. Standing up, she sighed so unhappily that Olivia laughed.
"Oh, Sable, this is not the end. My dear, our lives go on and what we share just enriches it." Still naked herself, she took the Tel Shai knight by the arm and walked her toward the door to the hallway. "I think soon you will understand."
Standing with one hand on the doorknob, Sable gazed at the delicate features of the Asian woman she had fallen for so quickly and so hard. "My team has been investigating your father's activities," she said. "We mustn't forget how dangerous things are right now. I am sure he suspects you intend to stop his reign of terror."
"Let him suspect what he will," Olivia replied lightly. "I have always been able to best him at any game from Go to chess. This is no different. But you, my darling, take care. You walk in deep dangerous waters."
Sable opened the door but then suddenly blurted, "I am still not sure I'm gay, Olivia. It's just because of you. You're so special. I think just being with you has turned me?"
The Chinese woman was still smiling affectionately. "Labels do not matter. Feelings do. Call me when you can. I will be in this city for a few more days at least." She leaned forward and Sable met her with a kiss that was slow and tender. Then the Tel Shai knight went out into the hall without another word and walked around the corner to the twin elevators. She felt as if her regular life was a daydream and she was walking away from what mattered.
II.
Back on Fifth Avenue, with cars honking as usual and the wail of a siren in the distance and the excited chatter of a group of tourists hurrying past, Sable snapped back to something more like her normal self. She waved and a taxi stopped immediately. Being a good-looking young woman in respectable clothes had some advantages. She got in the back and asked to go to East 38th Street and Lexington Avenue.
As the cab made its way through relatively light traffic, Sable unclipped her Link and saw she had turned it off at some point. That was odd. She never turned the device off even when working undercover. Three calls from HQ were indicated, the most recent being ten minutes earlier. Sable sent a green signal, basically indicating that she was fine, but she did not place a call. In a few minutes, she would be back at base anyway.
Only the ground floor of the old stone building had lights in the window. Sable paid the driver, hopped out and flipped open a concealed panel by the front door to reveal a keypad. She tapped in her own ID number and heard the familiar buzzes and clicks as the alarms shut down. Opening the door, she waited in the tiny vestibule as the Trom sensors identified her again, scanning her as thoroughly as any CT machine could. Satisfied she was no threat, the inner door unlocked.
Sable stepped into the dimly lit front hall with its wide staircase up to the second floor in front of her. Every hall in the building was lined with shelves crammed with the thousands of occult volumes Kenneth Dred had collected in his long life.To her right was the emergency ward and to her left was her office. Light came from the open door of that office. Suddenly uncomfortable as if she should feel guilty, Sable went into the room where she had spent so much time in the past fourteen years.
Leaning back on the couch facing the door, feet up on a hassock, Timothy Limbo was regarding one of the tiny whirlwinds of gralic energy that hovered over his open hand. He was wearing what was almost a uniform for him, white T-shirt and ragged jeans and motorcycle boots, although the leather jacket hung over a chair. He had not noticed Sable yet. She looked at his narrow, good-natured face under its mop of bright yellow hair and suddenly she was glad he was there.
"What are you watching?" she asked, shrugging out of her blazer and hanging it on a hook near the door.
"Oh. Hi, Sable. My caspers are showing me three sailors dancing in Bryant Park. I think they're more than a little drunk. You're late. Weren't you supposed to be back around eleven?"
Hoping her face was not getting red with embarrassment, Sable came over and pulled up a straightback wooden chair to face him. "Everything takes longer than you expect," she said casually. "Where's the team?"
"Working in pairs. They all are chasing down leads on what this Spinner of Webs is up to. Haley and Jin are down in North Carolina, Jocelyn and Josef went to Florida. As masterminds go, this Tzing-Dao Wang is busy. He has operations going on all over the place."
Leaning forward, Sable suddenly felt weary. She realized she had not eaten anything since breakfast. Being with Olivia had been all she had cared about. "You know what worries me, Tim? All of the Spinner's activities seem so... innocuous. He uses Alchemy for such mild crimes. He sells Velocitin to a track star. He sells the water-breathing serum Bernicas to a group of deepsea smugglers in case of emergencies. And so on. It's all illegal and certainly not harmless.. the track star is cheating in a race after all and being unfair to his competitors. But it's not as vile as I expected."
"Yeah," Timothy agreed, "I was thinking the same thing. I expected lots of murders by untraceable poisons or making people into slaves with the brain-dead serum. Other Alchemists used their Art for real disgusting crimes. But this Wang guy doesn't seem so bad."
Sable stood up again. "I think we are not digging deeply enough. His daughter tells me he has been using torture and assassination for decades. He is feared in the Chinese community here and in Boston and in San Francisco. We must look harder." She turned to leave the room. "I'm starving, I'm just going to make a sandwich. Do you want anything?"
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks." Timothy Limbo watched his captain leave the room. The thought crossed his mind that they only had the word of the daughter, Olivia Wang, who said that Wang was a horrible fiend who used his Alchemy for monstrous ends. Timothy dismissed his doubt at once because he knew Sable's power of enhanced perception made her a more accurate lie detector than any machine. He knew Sable could count a person's heart rate from across a room, smell the level of adrenalin in someone's perspiration, judge pupil dilation or detect subvocal tremors that meant lying. In his experience, Lauren Sable Reilly was the one people alive who could not be deceived.
But then, he did not know of her feelings for Olivia...
Timothy summoned his caspers back and dismissed them. Barely visible even in good light, the swirls of energy resembled transparent tornados a few inches high. He could 'see' in his mind whatever they saw, but they also could bring back sights to him that they had witnessed while he was not paying attention. Timothy desperately want to have them able to move objects. They would be invaluable if they could even knock things over or turn on light switches. So far, on a few rare occasions, they had been able to depress keys on a laptop or make a lamp flicker but that was it. He kept trying.
Sable came back with a tray that held two sandwiches on separate plates. made with three slices of rye bread with thick servings of boiled ham, cheese, sliced tomatoes and onions, and mustard, the sandwiches were accompanied by tumblers of iced tea. "I made one for you," she told the happily surprised man. "I figured once you saw one, you'd be sorry you turned it down."
"You're the BEST captain ever," Timothy said, gratefully taking a huge bite. "Listen, we have one solid lead right here in town. Some of Jeremy's observers have started working for us too, since he's semi-retired and such. It involves a garage over by Riverside Drive. Our report is that some of the guys there have been buying a powerful solvent from an agent of the Spinner. Apparently they strip the paint off a stolen car in a few seconds with a dilution of this stuff and can have it repainted right away. A concentrated dab of the solvent removes the VIN from the engine."
"Grand Theft Auto, running a hot car shop," mused Sable as she chewed thoughtfully. "Well, it's a bunch of felonies."
"But you see what I mean? It's so... mundane! I was expecting huge horrifying crime waves. This is disappointing to be honest. It's as if this Spinner of Webs doesn't have heart in being a real sinister mastermind." Timothy took another mouthful. "Sandwich is great, by the way."
Sable did not comment for a few minutes. "All I can conclude," she said at last, "is that we are barely scratching the surface. It took Jeremy and the first team years to find out enough about the empire of Wu Lung for them to attack. We have only been investigating a month or two."
"You know, I'm not sleepy at all," Timothy said as he finished his sandwich and downed most of the iced tea with one gulp. "Between your perception and my caspers, we're the two members both qualified for snooping. How about we loiter in the area of that garage tonight?"
She smiled at his zeal. "You're right, Tim. We need to be a bit more proactive and less reactive. Field suits for us both. We'll take the Toyota and head over there as soon as we change."
"Now there's the Sable I know!" he said as he jumped up and headed for the hall. Behind him, she wished felt as much enthusiasm but for some reason she just wasn't happy with the whole situation. Part of her wanted to call Olivia and ask for advise, but she dismissed that thought sternly and went up the stairs to her quarters to change.
III.
As they headed crosstown and up to the West 90s, Sable could not stop thinking about Olivia. Back in college, a teenage Lauren Sable Reilly had dated a few men and had slept with only two of them over the course of a year. Looking back, she had wondered at the time why sex was so overrated and why everyone had made such a big deal about what turned out to be pleasant but not compelling. Now she thought she understood her reactions better. Since joining the KDF more than a dozen years earlier, she had politely accepted a few dinner dates with men she found agreeable company but nothing further had ever happened.
A few times, Unicorn had teased her about having taken a vow of chastity, and Sable had dismissed the little blonde's teasing but now everything seemed more clear. Why had she been denying the obvious? Why had she--
At the wheel, Timothy Limbo reached over and lightly shoved her by the shoulder facing him. "Hey! Captain! Did you go out of body or something?"
"What? Sorry."
"You haven't said a word since we left the headquarters," he said. "I'm pulling over here. We're on West 96th Street."
Sable looked around outside at a slightly seedy neighborhood and then at the dashboard clock. It was two-fifty AM. "I was thinking. Give me a layout of the scene, please."
"According to my caspers, we're dealing with two buildings. The Rapid Oil Change has an office, bathroom and waiting room, with a bay that can hold four cars at a time. Right behind it, in fact you reach its front door by driving past the Oil Change, is the Rapid Auto Supply store. That's a two story cement building painted white. Now, they both close at nine and there's really no reason why three or four men would be going in and out at this time of night. They were last seen an hour ago. The images I get from my friendly ghosts show me these guys are all Asian, too, which is another odd thing."
She turned her head and nodded as if noticing him for the first time. They were both wearing the field suits, with the heavy boots, pants and waist-length jacket with its own inner layer of the Trom armor. In the small of her back, she could feel the holstered dart gun. "Are you going to wear the helmet, Tim?"
"I don't think so," he answered. "The electronics in the helmet seems to interfere with my connection to my caspers. What about you?"
"Same here, really. I want to rely on my own enanced senses rather than readouts on the inside of a visor. And we're just snooping around tonight."
Timothy had parked across the street from the buildings, two blocks south. It was the only open slot he could find. "What's your plan, captain?"
"Hmmm? Well, we will approach a few minutes apart. You go in first and check out the Auto Parts store. Disable the alarms with your Link and poke around. I will circle the block and then get into the Oil Change place. I doubt if anything will be found on the computers used for customers. Our best bet is finding concealed drawers with incriminating papers."
IV.
The White Web assassin was an experienced master at his trade. It was not enough to simply be a martial artist of great skill, nor to be cold-blooded enough to slay even an infant if ordered, as he had been. To join the White Web, an applicant chose one of the assassins already gathered in the Dark Hall in the mountains of Nepal. Weaponless, wearing only a loincloth provided, the applicant and the established member fought to the death before the Grandmasters. Every assassin of the White Web had earned his status by killing a member who had been there before him. Those who were aging or not keeping their skilled honed were weeded out on a regular basis by these challenges.
This one was a Thai, tall and muscular, wrapped in dark robes sashed at the waist, with a hood and mask concealing his features. His orders were to kill anyone who came here unbidden after hours and he rushed silently at the intruder with open hands ready to rip the windpipe out of the stranger. One second, the area behind the warehouse was empty and silent. In the next, a black-clad professional murderer was rushing from the shadows.
Barely five feet ten and reaching one hundred and seventy pounds on a good day, Timothy Limbo was not an inposing sight. His bland face was not calculated to strike fear in any hearts. As the White Web killer hurtled at him, Timothy seemed not to be fully aware of his danger. But he had been given a year's worth of studying Kumundu under Teacher Chael of Tel Shai, the man who had instructed Jeremy Bane, Shiro Mitsuru, Golden Sun and many others. Timothy Limbo did not often fight hand to hand because his specialty was gathering intelligence but that did not make him harmless.
As the White Web man lunged forward, Timothy took a single step to one side and smashed his elbow down between the man's shoulder blades. The assassin was driven flat on the oil-stained asphalt but even before he hit the surface, Timothy had given him a front snap kick that sent him skidding on his stomach. By chance, the White Web killer slid mostly under the Prius that was up on a jack with its rear wheel off. As the assassin whipped a long-bladed knife out from its sheath behind his right shoulder, Timothy Limbo calmly stepped forward and kicked the jack over. The Prius fell right on the White Web, breaking his back and driving the air from his lungs. After a few seconds of agonized struggle, he died.
For a long moment, Timothy stood there silently. In his year as a Tel Shai knight and a KDF member, he had taken only a handful of lives. Each time, it troubled him deeply. it was such a fateful action, stealing away the one thing a human being could truly call his own. In an intellectual way, Tim realized that this had been a heartless killer who had certainly been intent and ready to kill him when Tim had done him no harm. Timothy also realized that by this action he had saved the lives of all the future victims of a career assassin. None of that helped. He stared down at the head and arm protruding from beneath the car and the sight seemed shameful.
Timothy thought of how blithely Dimrak Jin slew opponents. She had been brought up in a warrior culture and to her it was something to take pride in. The same for Josef Jubilec, raised by the Blind Archer sect. To him, killing was not good or evil, it was just a way of dealing with enemies. Tim didn't think he would ever become like his teammates in that regard and he was glad. He didn't want to become hardened to taking life.
Summoning three of the caspers, he held out his hands palm up and watched as the little whirlpools came spinning in to gather in front of them. Whether they were independent life forms who had attached themselves to him, or whether they were merely manifestations of gralic force controlled by his own mind, he was glad to see them. His 'friendly ghosts.'"Hey, fellas," he said out loud, "Spread out. Find Sable and hurry back to tell me where she is."
Swift as thought, the caspers swirled away. Timothy reached behind him to draw the anesthetic dart gun from its holster beneath his field suit jacket. He checked that the safety was off on the strange needle-barreled weapon and held it with both hands as he moved around the back lot. No other car had been left back here to be worked on after hours, there was a dumpster with a couple of splintered packing crates next to it, and a single beat-up chair. Timothy stepped closer. In an empty coffee can, crumpled cigarette butts were piled high. This was where workers at the hot car shop came for their smoke breaks.
Two sides of this back lot were bordered with a high wooden fence that provided some privacy. To his left was the blank cement block wall of the auto parts store, windowless, with only a single metal door marked NO ADMITTANCE. Behind him was the rear of the garage itself, with two glass-paneled doors which slid up and down on tracks. Everything looked dark inside. A single light bulb in a metal frame burned over the side door of the garage. Timothy waited for reports from his caspers.
After a few minutes, he tried to see through their perception and received nothing. This had not happened before. Cautiously, he reached out to make stronger contact with them and got nowhere. Now he was really worried. Nothing had ever interfered with his caspers before.
V.
A bucket of icy water crashing over her head brought Sable awake again. She gasped at the shock of the freezing liquid over her bruised and aching head. The KDF team leader tried to catch her breath. Where was she? Her awareness came back through dull throbbing pain. Her arms were tied behind her in the solid metal chair, bound with wire so tightly that she could not feel her hands. Her feet were also tied together at the ankle. But she wasn't tied to the chair, she thought after flexing her arms and legs. Through sheer effort, Sable forced her eyes open and took in her surroundings.
This was a dank cellar, with unfinished stone walls and a floor of rough concrete. On a wire from the ceiling hung a naked 75-watt bulb which cast everything in merciless detail. Sable looked down to see her field suit had been stripped off her, but she remained in the one-piece flexible Trom armor. So many times had she been grateful that its paramagnetic seams were beyond Human ability to open. Although her head felt as if it had been beaten, there was no pain in the rest of her body because of the silk-thin armor dissipating any blows she had taken.
Sable raised her head painfully, finding her nose stuffed with dried blood and her eyes swollen almost shut. This did not alarm her. Years of the tagra regimen had boosted her healing factor so that these injuries should fade quickly. It was the corpse in the chair facing her that she found alarming.
The man had been Chinese, but it was hard to tell much more considering his condition. Tied sitting up as Sable was but bound directly to the heavy chair, the man was covered with bloody tatters of flesh. His eyes were empty sockets, his mouth gaped open to show stubs where teeth had been broken off. None of the fingernails remained. It had not been an easy death.
Even as Sable absorbed the details of the situation with a sinking heart, she felt a draft as a door opened behind her. Light footsteps followed, and a tall elderly man walked around to stand behind the tortured corpse.
"You have been looked for the Spinner of Webs," said the man in a hushed tone. "It will not bring you happiness. I am Tzing-Dao Wang." He was only four inches over five feet in height, bent with age but walking without assistance. His thin body was wrapped in a gorgeous robe of green silk laced with golden threads in complicated patterns, his hands hidden within the voluminous sleeves. The Spinner of Webs had a long mournful face marked with creases and wrinkles from which a bony nose and a pair of jade-green eyes peered sharply at her.
From the shadows, a servant in Western clothing brought a chair for Wang, who sat down easily and nodded to dismiss the man. The Alchemist sat beside the murdered man and watched Sable as if debating her fate.
"You knocked me out with an Alchemical gas," she said to begin. "The red fog. The same gas your daughter used."
"Your presence here offends me," the Spinner of Webs replied. "Not only a woman, but a weak American white devil woman, sent here to confront me. I take this as an insult. Where is the one called Dire Wolf? Only he has earned my respect."
"That's some speech," Sable scoffed. She could feel her head clearing as her healing abilities rapidly repaired damage that would mean days in the ICU for a normal person. "I can sure believe that you were born in China a hundred years ago because your attitude shows it."
"I am the most unfortunate of men," Wang continued. "Fate has not blessed me with a son, despite many wives and concubines. I have only a useless daughter to whom I cannot trust my empire when I cross to meet my ancestors."
"You do realize that the male determines the sex of the child, right? Have you heard about X and Y chromosomes?"
"Be silent. Your life is already forfeit, it is now just a question of how long you suffer." The Spinner of Webs inclined his head toward the gruesome cadaver next to him. "This was one of my servants, a miserable man named Yung-Hua. He showed too much regard for my insignficant daughter and, like her, did not pay me proper respect. I believe it was this fool who informed you that this garage is one of my properies. You can see his reward."
Sable started taking deep slow breaths, bringing in oxygen to speed her healing process. This mastermind wanted something from her. Otherwise, he would have simply have had her killed and her body disposed of. She remembered too that Timothy Limbo was in the area somewhere, searching for her and ready to intervene. Wang would have mentioned the death or capture of Tim to demoralize her.
"You know, it's funny in a disappointing way," she said, as calmly as if having lunch with a friend instead of being held prisoner in a torture chamber. "I was beginning to wonder if we were being misled about how wicked you were. The more I learned of your various rackets, the less heinous they seemed. I thought maybe you were not all that bad."
This seemed to amuse the ancient Alchemist. He reached up with a hand concealed within its sleeve and tapped the ruined corpse beside him. "Sentimental fool. You will never understand. None of us in the Midnight War are what we seem to be at first. We wear masks under masks. I thought you might bring profit in a Hong Kong brothel, white women always do well at first. But no. More important is that valuable secrets of Tel Shai are in your head and I will extract them."
"You can try," she answered.
The Spinner of Webs rose to his feet without effort, standing before his prisoner with no expression on his face. "Do not deceive yourself," he said. "Even your enhanced healing has its limits. Courage has its limits as well. Once your fingers and toes are gone, then an ear, then an eye, your defiance will depart with them. Whatever pain you have survived in the past, it was but a hint of the suffering you will be put through now. I will return after you are broken and have begun to talk." With that, he turned and passed beside her. She felt the air currents change as a door opened and closed where she could not see it.
Left alone with the corpse facing her, Sable shifted her weight and drew her feet up beneath her. She felt a twinge of guilt at having begun to have doubted Olivia. Timothy had started her suspecting the Alchemist's daughter of exaggerating her father's crimes and Sable was sorry now she had started to go along with it. But she had no intention of ending up like the ruined carcass before her and she certainly did not intend to reveal the secrets of Tel Shai to a fiend like the Spinner of Webs. Using the muscles in her thighs and abdomen, she lurched up to her feet with her hands still bound behind her. Why she hadn't been tied to the chair itself was puzzling but there was no time to wonder about that now.
Adjusting her balance, bending slightly forward, Sable leaped straight up and drew her knees up to her chest as hard as she could. Still in the air for that second, she brought her hands forward under her bare feet and landed well, without a stumble. All the daily stretching and excercise and practicising her DohRa form always paid off when she needed the benefits. She was still tied but at least now her hands were in front of her. Where was something to unwind the wire tying her wrists and ankles? Had the torturers left behind any tools, hopefully pliers? She looked around anxiously. The circulation in her hands and feet had already been cut off too long.
The door to the cellar opened and a stocky Asian man in dark clothing with a dispposable plastic apron stepped through. He was holding a tray of scalpels and tweezers and needles in his hands. Sable instantly judged the distance and dove forward, tucking her head in to perform a forward somersault that brought her bound feet up together right in the man's face. They both fell in an awkward tumble. It had been an amazing manuever, but Sable found she could not follow up on it. She was just at too much of a disadvantage with her wrists and ankles tied. As she rolled over and tried to get up, the thug seized her by the hair and yanked her up on her feet, then punched her straight across the jaw. She took the blow squarely and fell in a heap with her head spinning.
There was a sharp cracking thud and the Chinese man dropped limply next to her. Getting over onto her back, Sable saw Timothy Limbo holstering his dart gun and coming to bend over her.
"If a girl ever needed a friend!" she gasped.
"I didn't use a dart, I just clubbed him with the butt. Maybe I got mad when I saw him punch you." Timothy helped her get up into a seated position on the floor. "Geez, boss. Your hands and feet are purple. Let's get that wire off." From a clip on his belt, he took a small multi-tool and began working the bonds off her.
Sable quickly filled him in on what had happened while he worked. Timothy took a second to glance over at the gruesome body still sitting in its chair.
"I guess I owe your friend Olivia an apology," he said. "It looks like she wasn't steering us wrong about her father."
As soon as she was freed, Sable began flexing her fingers and kneading her feet. The burning as blood began to move through her extremities again was agony but she was glad she could feel it. "What's going on here? What do your caspers tell you?"
"The Spinner of Webs himself has left the stage," Timothy told her, helping her massage circulation back. "My boys say there's only one more henchman in the building. He's going through your field suit and trying to figure out the gadgets. Your Link shut down as soon as it was far enough away from you."
"We have to get my gear back," she said, standing up. "Ow. My poor feet. I shouldn't complain. That guy you slugged was coming in to start skinning me."
Timothy went over to check on the man and came back with a funny catch in his voice. "He's dead, captain. I guess I hit him harder than I thought. That's the second man I killed tonight."
Hearing his tone, Sable said, "I wouldn't feel bad about it, Tim. He was coming down here to torture me... the same way he did that poor guy in the chair over there."
"Still a hell of a thing to do, killing someone," Timothy told her. "It bothers me.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. "If it helps, you saved me from being cut up alive for information and then killed. Come on, let's get my suit and clear out of here. We've learned what we need to know."
Still looking miserable, Timothy drew his dart gun and handed it to her. "Here, Sable. You're a better shot than I am. I'll distract the guy with a casper right in front of his face. He'll think something is wrong with his eyes and you can tranquilize him."
She nodded. Her hands and feet felt normal again, and her grip on the air-powered pistol was steady. "Then we'll begin our campaign against Tzing-Dao Wang for real. I'm calling in the entire team for this. The Spinner of Webs is going to fall. Olivia did the right thing in alerting us to her father's activities."
VII.
In a tiny apartment above the HAPPY DUCK restaurant on Canal Street, the man who had presented himself as Tzing-Dao Wang to the tied-up Sable sat down at his breakfast table. Opposite him was a beautiful Asian woman with bright green eyes. She was wearing a simple dark pullover and slacks, with her hair pulled back into a thick ponytail. Oddly, she also had on blue silk gloves with rolled cuffs at the wrist.
"You have done well, Lin-Po. My father used you many times to impersonate him when he had to appear in public while busy elsewhere," Olivia Wang said.
"Or when there was danger of assassination," Lin-Po replied. "There was always a generous bonus then."
"That is true. You have a strong resemblance to my father in the first place and plastic surgery touched up the few differences. Only someone who knows him intimately would suspect you are not the Spinner of Webs." Olivia leaned back and smiled wickedly. "Deception and misdirection are better than brute force. We rule best behind masks under masks."
Lin-Po inclined his head respectfully. "I am yours to command, my lady."
"Mutilating the corpse of the informer was distasteful but worth it," Olivia said. "I expect Sable to escape the questioner, especially with her teammate in the area but now she will be convinced of my father's.. Wait. Let me see your hands."
Puzzled, Lin-Po stretched out both hands across the table, palms up. Quick as a snake striking, Olivia Wang jabbed a long bronze needle deep into the the man's left palm and held it in, keeping his wrist steady with her other hand. He gasped in surprise and fear but already was having difficulty breathing. His face went pale and his lips turned blue.
"Alchemists have ten thousand poisons to choose from," the beautiful woman told the dying man. "I regret this, Lin-Po. You have served me well, as you have served my father before me. But secrets are best kept by one person and who knows when your tongue may slip and give me away. There. Dead already."
Standing up, Olivia Wang gazed down at the body. The Velkandu serum left no signs that would indicate anything other than heart attack to even a Medical Examiner who was looking for foul play. Lin-Po had been eighty-one. The cause of death woud be obvious. Even if her father was suspicious of the death of his best stand-in, it was too late for him to try to determine if she was responsible. The war between daughter and father had been too well planned to be stopped now. Olivia stood up and carefully replaced the chair so there was no clue someone had been sitting there. The silk gloves left no fingerprints. She fought down a satisfied chuckle. Soon there would be a new Spinner of Webs on the throne of crime.
10/6/2016
