![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
"DUSTY HEROES: The Underworld Could Use a Scourge"
"DUSTY HEROES: The Underworld Could Use a Scourge"
9/21/2000
I.
"You should let me drive," Sheng insisted. "I have never had an accident."
"You're only going to have ONE," said Sable a bit too sweetly. She made a turn off the highway onto a side road. At two in the morning, traffic out here on the north shore of Long Island had dwindled down to a few delivery trucks and late night partygoers slogging home.
It took a minute for her meaning to register. "Hey! You are saying I drive so fast that my first accident will be fatal?"
"Your English is improving so quickly, Argent," she diverted the conversation. "Not much more than a year in our world, and you catch nearly every slang phrase. Even the stuff from Unicorn, who comes from way out in left field on her goofy days."
"Left field. That is a baseball term," Sheng Mo-Yuan added tentatively. Although only five feet five, he was as solidly built as most of his fellow Chujirans were. In the black field suit, with its short jacket and snug pants of tough material, he looked quite daunting. Sheng at first seemed to be Chinese, maybe from the North. But his beaked nose and high sharp cheekbones contradicted that thought. His true homeland was farther away than miles could measure.
At the wheel, Lauren Sable Reilly smiled to let him know no sting was intended. The most responsible-minded of the new KDF Second Team, she had quickly come to be regarded as unofficial lieutenant to their leader, Jeremy Bane. When Bane was not present, the other novices tended to turn instinctively to Sable for leadership. "Here we are," she said.
Slowing and pulling to the side of the road, the dark blue Buick Regal came to a stop with the waters of Long Island Sound visible close to the right. Shrieking gulls wheeled overhead and and a damp breeze brought the stinging salt tang. The last town had been passed miles back, only vast estates with mansions glimpsed from the highway were to be found out here.
Before them on a hill, a three story structure stood in the dusk. From where Sable and Argent gazed, a paved driveway led up to an encircling stone wall with a metal gate that bore an elaborate family crest. Prominent signs warned PRIVATE PROPERTY - TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED and DOGS ON DUTY. At the rear, one side of a boathouse could be glimpsed with a pier extending out into the Atlantic. "The home of Louis Albertini," she told her partner. "He was a criminal lawyer who supposedly retired six years ago to write some tell-all books about some of his infamous clients. Under fictitious names."
"I don't understand why the Monk would be after this man," Sheng said, peering out through the windshield. "Didn't he punish actual criminals? Mobsters, gang bosses? Why a lawyer?"
"Because Albertini was up to his elbows in dirty business," answered Sable. "He benefited from keeping the rackets running. Ugh. Reading his file left me feeling like I needed a shower. We didn't get much information from the Preincarnators we caught, but we did find out that Vidimar still used this Albertini for unofficial legal advice. If the Monk is starting up his crusade again, Albertini would be one of the few targets he would know about right away."
Beside her, the young Chujiran started to open his door but she placed a hand on his arm and asked, "Where do you think you're going?"
"Why, to check out the situation," he answered. "Aren't we going to do a recon?"
"I don't think so, Sheng. We have aerial pictures on our Links of this property. Rousting Albertini and his staff at this hour would result in every light in the house being turned on. And once the Monk saw that, he would decide to come back another time. Perhaps find a victim he preferred."
"Well. I suppose you're right." The young man called Argent in the Midnight War settled back down into his seat. "I hope this doesn't mean more sitting and waiting. I get enough of that."
"I'm afraid so. Even worse, we're going to have keep quiet." She pressed the button that wound down both her side window and his halfway. "I am going to enhance my hearing every few minutes and listen for anything suspicious. I would like you to be watching the sensors on your Link. Between us, we should catch any resurrected 1930s vigilantes before the killing can start."
The Chujiran grumbled and then said, "If I hadn't seen you use your abilities, Sable, I would still doubt them. But I know you can catch a moth in a pitch dark room. You can see individual pollens. I guess we can rely on your powers."
"You have your own gifts," she said. "If it comes to a fight, I'll be glad to have you beside me."
"Thanks." Sheng unclipped a flat electronic device from his belt and began studying his screen. "Let me see. Adjusting for life forms with normal Human limits... Okay. I think I have it. Nothing out there yet."
"Shhh." Beside him, Lauren Sable Reilly leaned her dark-haired head out the window and drew on gralic force. Her hearing shifted to become more sensitive than that of any other living creature and she drifted into analyzing the incredibly faint seconds she was picking up from the mansion on the hill. Slowly, she extended her focus and hoped she would not hear the stealth of an assassin approaching.
II.
As darkness settled in completely from an overcast night without a moon, a dark figure slid silently up from the ocean behind the house. He emerged slowly, taking his time to wring water from the heavy wool robe which might have dripped and given his presence away. Between the dark robe with its cowl pulled up over his head, nothing could be seen of the Monk. Even his hands were gloved. He folded up the thin breathing tube he had used as a snorkel and tucked it away inside his robe. Only the faintest hint of a white oval could be glimpsed of the full-face gauze mask he always wore. The most feared vigilante of his era scuttled up over the gravel and loose rocks which led up to the rear of the Albertini home.
One exterior floodlight snapped on but he was already behind some bushes dense enough to give cover. A thickset man in a business suit without a tie opened the rear door of the house and stepped out onto the flagstone patio. He held a big .45 automatic ready in one hand. From the bored, slightly slack movements, the guard seemed to be making a routine loop of the yard, so no alarms had been tripped. He paused to sniff the salty air and stood peering around.
Up on one knee, the Monk whipped his right arm forward and a thin throwing blade like a scalpel sliced across the side of the sentry's neck. The slight wound would not have been life-threatening in itself but the edge of that blade had been coated with a resin based on a neurotoxin used by the Brumal of Androval.. the same Brumal who had taught the Monk their secrets of stealth and misdirection. It produced a disorienting effect within the first second. The guard made a funny gurgling noise and started to raise his free hand to the shallow gash on his neck but he was dead before he could complete the action. Springing up from concealment, the Monk grabbed the body as it fell and lowered it noiselessly behind the same brush where he had been hiding.
The throwing blade he retrieved from where it had fallen and he slid it back to rejoin its mates into the stiff leather cuffs he wore under his sleeves. Perfect. The Monk rushed over to where the rear door had been left ajar and vanished through it. The entire encounter had barely taken a few seconds. No more than a rustle of cloth and the whiz of a thrown blade had broken the stillness.
III.
A faint mist had gathered in the clammy air, bringing out dew on the windshield. Sable and Argent eventually pulled film-wrapped sandwiches from their knapsacks, an egg salad on wheat for her and a hot pastrami on rye for him. Sheng commented on how the choice of sandwiches reflected their personalities, then dug in gleefully and she did the same.
Swirling water from a bottle of Poland Spring to rinse her mouth, Sable said, "Maybe nothing is going to happen tonight. I did some research on this Monk person. He seems to have been an extremely dangerous presence in his day. Both the police and the criminals did their best to avoid him, according to all reports. And his true identity was never revealed.'
"Fooey," replied Sheng. "He has never came up against me! I'd have made him wish he was a real monk safely hiding in a monastery."
Sable made no comment at that. She had learned to let his boasts slide by. Maybe in time the young Chujiran would grow into some humility. Maybe not. But having his ability on the team justified putting up with a slightly annoying attitude. "So far, all the old heroes that Vidimar has resurrected have rejected working for him. It's funny. The Brimstone Kid, Tommy Moon, Pilgrim. Maybe the Monk will decide to go his own way
as well."
"If you ask me," Sheng offered, "We should let this Monk start shooting down mobsters, the human traffickers and drug kingpins again. Scourge of the Underworld, he was called... well, the Underworld could use a scourge."
Sable turned her head to study his expression. "You're serious. I mean, I can see why that's an appealing thought but vigilantes inevitably start killing the wrong people. They make mistakes, they act on bad information and usually they end up as much a threat to the public as the crooks they're hunting."
"Yeah? And what do you think we're doing?"
"Oh, Sheng," she replied. "Don't think I haven't worried of that. I wonder about if we might do more harm than good. But we are fighting menaces that the public never learns about and that the authorities can't handle. The occult, the supernatural. We're Midnight War soldiers."
The youth called Argent made a scoffing noise. "Eh. I think the Monk would be undertaking the same sort of work we do, only against Human menaces. But I guess I see your point." He sat up straighter as a long Lincoln Town Car glided past them with only its parking lights on. It came to halt near the wall around the estate.
"This looks promising," Sable remarked as she stowed her water bottle in the door pocket. She was talking to emptiness. Sheng was already out of the car and striding through the darkness toward the Lincoln. Sable hurried out after him. As she emerged, her enhanced vision caught what few other Humans would have seen... a black shapeless form sliding into the rear of the limo and pulling the door shut behind it.
Quick as she was, there was no way she could have caught up with her partner. Sheng's power was to focus a gralic charge in his body that increased his speed, strength or resilience way beyond normal levels. Before Sable was out of their own car, Argent had reached the limo. She ran up and saw that the driver's window had been rolled down.
The chauffeur turned his head from the rear seat and gave a visible start as he realized the needle-thin barrel of a strange weapon was being thrust through the opening at his head. "Oh, I say!" he blurted and raised his hands from the steering wheel. The driver was past middle-age, wearing a neat suit and tie with a tan topcoat. A full head of glossy white hair gave him a dramatic appearance that his otherwise unremarkable face would not have attained.
"Relax, old man," Sheng told him. "You're not being robbed. There's no reason anyone is going to get hurt."
"Don't give him a heart attack, Sheng." Reaching the Lincoln, Sable flicked on a pencil flashlight and cast its powerful white cone into the rear of the car. The luxurious interior with real leather was empty. Despite herself, she said, "Huh?"
Sheng saw the unoccupied back seat but since he had not seen anyone enter the car a few seconds earlier, he was not surprised as she was. The Chujiran youth wondered why she seemed agitated.
IV.
Coming around beside her teammate, Sable demanded, "All right, what happened to the person who got in this car a moment ago?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, miss. No one entered this car, I assure you."
"Open the trunk," she snapped. The driver saw the Asian man nudge that ominous-looking gun barrel edge toward his cheek and he hastily pulled a tab under the dashboard. Sable hurried to the back of the car and her tense expectant body eased up as she saw nothing suspicious. The trunk was neatly organized with its spare tire under a cover, a green metal tool box secured in one corner, a bundle of maps and guide books fastened by a rubber band. None of the trash found in most car trunks, not even a stray scrap of paper.
Reluctantly, Sable brought the trunk lid down. She drew on her enhanced smell but only caught a pungent whiff of gasoline fumes on one side of the car. Someone had spilled a few drops while filling the tank. Her hearing shifted up to higher levels next, but the sound of the car engine was all that met her probe. It seemed to be running rough, which was surprising since she would have expected a luxury vehicle like this to be better maintained. With a sinking heart, she went back to the driver window and gently pushed her partner's gun hand down. To the driver, she said, "You can go now. Sorry for the inconvenience."
The chauffeur hastened to comply. As the long sedan rolled away, Sheng Mo-Yuan holstered his dart gun reluctantly. "What was that all about?"
She explained what she had seen and started back toward their own vehicle. "Well, that was humiliating. I sure didn't find anyone in that car."
"Heh," Argent smirked. "You have to wonder what the driver thought about all the fuss. His eyes sure bugged out when I shoved the dart gun at him."
"I can't understand it," said Sable. "I know I saw a dark figure slide into the back but there was no trace of him. I guess he immediately left on the other side, keeping low so I wouldn't spot him."
"And he figured that checking the car would delay us enough that he could get away?" Argent snorted unhappily. "We were outmaneuvered by a master sneak, Lauren."
"I guess..." Her voice trailed off. After a moment, she shook her head and shrugged. "Oh well, remember we're just starting out. We have a lot to learn, Sheng. Let's search the area while we can. Maybe my enhanced vision can pick up something so we don't go back to base with our tails between our legs."
Back in the house, unknown to them at the moment, two more bodyguards were sprawled senseless on the floor, breathing unevenly because the drugs they had been given. In a plush leather-covered recliner, the remains of Robert Albertini were approaching room temperature. Very little blood had dripped from the round blue hole between his eyebrows.
Miles away by then, the Lincoln town car rolled smoothly through the night. The engine was much quieter. An apparatus controlled by a dashboard switch had made the motor sound rougher and louder than it actually was. This was one of many gadgets that the Lincoln had been modified with. Behind the wheel, the driver said, "Did I do well, sir?"
"Satisfactory," hissed a cold voice from the back of the car. "You followed the plan and you sounded convincing. You are a good soldier in my campaign, Lester." Having emerged, the Monk fastened the hinged sections of the rear seat and settled back more comfortably. In the hollow compartment within the seat, he had been curled up as he had concealed himself many times before. His shallow breathing through a tube that emerged by the exhaust had been hidden by the engine noise, and any scent he might have carried had been swamped by the stink of spilled gasoline. This was not the first time he had escaped detection this way.
"About those two investigators, sir? If I might be so bold?"
The Monk snarled. "The Tel Shai knights of this era, I gather. Dabblers and dilettantes who interfere with my work. They need not concern us now, back to the Prewitt estate, Lester. There is much to do."
The driver's voice was hesitant. "Then we are not returning to Mr Vidimar?"
"Certainly not!' snapped the hollow voice. "The fool! He brought the Monk back to the world and thought I would be one of his cringing servants. How little he knows of what he has unleashed. The scum of the underworld would wake in cold terror if they knew what is coming for them!" From the darkness of the back seat, an ominous chuckle broke into full, mocking laughter.
[9/23/2000 - Rev 3/17/2012]
9/21/2000
I.
"You should let me drive," Sheng insisted. "I have never had an accident."
"You're only going to have ONE," said Sable a bit too sweetly. She made a turn off the highway onto a side road. At two in the morning, traffic out here on the north shore of Long Island had dwindled down to a few delivery trucks and late night partygoers slogging home.
It took a minute for her meaning to register. "Hey! You are saying I drive so fast that my first accident will be fatal?"
"Your English is improving so quickly, Argent," she diverted the conversation. "Not much more than a year in our world, and you catch nearly every slang phrase. Even the stuff from Unicorn, who comes from way out in left field on her goofy days."
"Left field. That is a baseball term," Sheng Mo-Yuan added tentatively. Although only five feet five, he was as solidly built as most of his fellow Chujirans were. In the black field suit, with its short jacket and snug pants of tough material, he looked quite daunting. Sheng at first seemed to be Chinese, maybe from the North. But his beaked nose and high sharp cheekbones contradicted that thought. His true homeland was farther away than miles could measure.
At the wheel, Lauren Sable Reilly smiled to let him know no sting was intended. The most responsible-minded of the new KDF Second Team, she had quickly come to be regarded as unofficial lieutenant to their leader, Jeremy Bane. When Bane was not present, the other novices tended to turn instinctively to Sable for leadership. "Here we are," she said.
Slowing and pulling to the side of the road, the dark blue Buick Regal came to a stop with the waters of Long Island Sound visible close to the right. Shrieking gulls wheeled overhead and and a damp breeze brought the stinging salt tang. The last town had been passed miles back, only vast estates with mansions glimpsed from the highway were to be found out here.
Before them on a hill, a three story structure stood in the dusk. From where Sable and Argent gazed, a paved driveway led up to an encircling stone wall with a metal gate that bore an elaborate family crest. Prominent signs warned PRIVATE PROPERTY - TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED and DOGS ON DUTY. At the rear, one side of a boathouse could be glimpsed with a pier extending out into the Atlantic. "The home of Louis Albertini," she told her partner. "He was a criminal lawyer who supposedly retired six years ago to write some tell-all books about some of his infamous clients. Under fictitious names."
"I don't understand why the Monk would be after this man," Sheng said, peering out through the windshield. "Didn't he punish actual criminals? Mobsters, gang bosses? Why a lawyer?"
"Because Albertini was up to his elbows in dirty business," answered Sable. "He benefited from keeping the rackets running. Ugh. Reading his file left me feeling like I needed a shower. We didn't get much information from the Preincarnators we caught, but we did find out that Vidimar still used this Albertini for unofficial legal advice. If the Monk is starting up his crusade again, Albertini would be one of the few targets he would know about right away."
Beside her, the young Chujiran started to open his door but she placed a hand on his arm and asked, "Where do you think you're going?"
"Why, to check out the situation," he answered. "Aren't we going to do a recon?"
"I don't think so, Sheng. We have aerial pictures on our Links of this property. Rousting Albertini and his staff at this hour would result in every light in the house being turned on. And once the Monk saw that, he would decide to come back another time. Perhaps find a victim he preferred."
"Well. I suppose you're right." The young man called Argent in the Midnight War settled back down into his seat. "I hope this doesn't mean more sitting and waiting. I get enough of that."
"I'm afraid so. Even worse, we're going to have keep quiet." She pressed the button that wound down both her side window and his halfway. "I am going to enhance my hearing every few minutes and listen for anything suspicious. I would like you to be watching the sensors on your Link. Between us, we should catch any resurrected 1930s vigilantes before the killing can start."
The Chujiran grumbled and then said, "If I hadn't seen you use your abilities, Sable, I would still doubt them. But I know you can catch a moth in a pitch dark room. You can see individual pollens. I guess we can rely on your powers."
"You have your own gifts," she said. "If it comes to a fight, I'll be glad to have you beside me."
"Thanks." Sheng unclipped a flat electronic device from his belt and began studying his screen. "Let me see. Adjusting for life forms with normal Human limits... Okay. I think I have it. Nothing out there yet."
"Shhh." Beside him, Lauren Sable Reilly leaned her dark-haired head out the window and drew on gralic force. Her hearing shifted to become more sensitive than that of any other living creature and she drifted into analyzing the incredibly faint seconds she was picking up from the mansion on the hill. Slowly, she extended her focus and hoped she would not hear the stealth of an assassin approaching.
II.
As darkness settled in completely from an overcast night without a moon, a dark figure slid silently up from the ocean behind the house. He emerged slowly, taking his time to wring water from the heavy wool robe which might have dripped and given his presence away. Between the dark robe with its cowl pulled up over his head, nothing could be seen of the Monk. Even his hands were gloved. He folded up the thin breathing tube he had used as a snorkel and tucked it away inside his robe. Only the faintest hint of a white oval could be glimpsed of the full-face gauze mask he always wore. The most feared vigilante of his era scuttled up over the gravel and loose rocks which led up to the rear of the Albertini home.
One exterior floodlight snapped on but he was already behind some bushes dense enough to give cover. A thickset man in a business suit without a tie opened the rear door of the house and stepped out onto the flagstone patio. He held a big .45 automatic ready in one hand. From the bored, slightly slack movements, the guard seemed to be making a routine loop of the yard, so no alarms had been tripped. He paused to sniff the salty air and stood peering around.
Up on one knee, the Monk whipped his right arm forward and a thin throwing blade like a scalpel sliced across the side of the sentry's neck. The slight wound would not have been life-threatening in itself but the edge of that blade had been coated with a resin based on a neurotoxin used by the Brumal of Androval.. the same Brumal who had taught the Monk their secrets of stealth and misdirection. It produced a disorienting effect within the first second. The guard made a funny gurgling noise and started to raise his free hand to the shallow gash on his neck but he was dead before he could complete the action. Springing up from concealment, the Monk grabbed the body as it fell and lowered it noiselessly behind the same brush where he had been hiding.
The throwing blade he retrieved from where it had fallen and he slid it back to rejoin its mates into the stiff leather cuffs he wore under his sleeves. Perfect. The Monk rushed over to where the rear door had been left ajar and vanished through it. The entire encounter had barely taken a few seconds. No more than a rustle of cloth and the whiz of a thrown blade had broken the stillness.
III.
A faint mist had gathered in the clammy air, bringing out dew on the windshield. Sable and Argent eventually pulled film-wrapped sandwiches from their knapsacks, an egg salad on wheat for her and a hot pastrami on rye for him. Sheng commented on how the choice of sandwiches reflected their personalities, then dug in gleefully and she did the same.
Swirling water from a bottle of Poland Spring to rinse her mouth, Sable said, "Maybe nothing is going to happen tonight. I did some research on this Monk person. He seems to have been an extremely dangerous presence in his day. Both the police and the criminals did their best to avoid him, according to all reports. And his true identity was never revealed.'
"Fooey," replied Sheng. "He has never came up against me! I'd have made him wish he was a real monk safely hiding in a monastery."
Sable made no comment at that. She had learned to let his boasts slide by. Maybe in time the young Chujiran would grow into some humility. Maybe not. But having his ability on the team justified putting up with a slightly annoying attitude. "So far, all the old heroes that Vidimar has resurrected have rejected working for him. It's funny. The Brimstone Kid, Tommy Moon, Pilgrim. Maybe the Monk will decide to go his own way
as well."
"If you ask me," Sheng offered, "We should let this Monk start shooting down mobsters, the human traffickers and drug kingpins again. Scourge of the Underworld, he was called... well, the Underworld could use a scourge."
Sable turned her head to study his expression. "You're serious. I mean, I can see why that's an appealing thought but vigilantes inevitably start killing the wrong people. They make mistakes, they act on bad information and usually they end up as much a threat to the public as the crooks they're hunting."
"Yeah? And what do you think we're doing?"
"Oh, Sheng," she replied. "Don't think I haven't worried of that. I wonder about if we might do more harm than good. But we are fighting menaces that the public never learns about and that the authorities can't handle. The occult, the supernatural. We're Midnight War soldiers."
The youth called Argent made a scoffing noise. "Eh. I think the Monk would be undertaking the same sort of work we do, only against Human menaces. But I guess I see your point." He sat up straighter as a long Lincoln Town Car glided past them with only its parking lights on. It came to halt near the wall around the estate.
"This looks promising," Sable remarked as she stowed her water bottle in the door pocket. She was talking to emptiness. Sheng was already out of the car and striding through the darkness toward the Lincoln. Sable hurried out after him. As she emerged, her enhanced vision caught what few other Humans would have seen... a black shapeless form sliding into the rear of the limo and pulling the door shut behind it.
Quick as she was, there was no way she could have caught up with her partner. Sheng's power was to focus a gralic charge in his body that increased his speed, strength or resilience way beyond normal levels. Before Sable was out of their own car, Argent had reached the limo. She ran up and saw that the driver's window had been rolled down.
The chauffeur turned his head from the rear seat and gave a visible start as he realized the needle-thin barrel of a strange weapon was being thrust through the opening at his head. "Oh, I say!" he blurted and raised his hands from the steering wheel. The driver was past middle-age, wearing a neat suit and tie with a tan topcoat. A full head of glossy white hair gave him a dramatic appearance that his otherwise unremarkable face would not have attained.
"Relax, old man," Sheng told him. "You're not being robbed. There's no reason anyone is going to get hurt."
"Don't give him a heart attack, Sheng." Reaching the Lincoln, Sable flicked on a pencil flashlight and cast its powerful white cone into the rear of the car. The luxurious interior with real leather was empty. Despite herself, she said, "Huh?"
Sheng saw the unoccupied back seat but since he had not seen anyone enter the car a few seconds earlier, he was not surprised as she was. The Chujiran youth wondered why she seemed agitated.
IV.
Coming around beside her teammate, Sable demanded, "All right, what happened to the person who got in this car a moment ago?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, miss. No one entered this car, I assure you."
"Open the trunk," she snapped. The driver saw the Asian man nudge that ominous-looking gun barrel edge toward his cheek and he hastily pulled a tab under the dashboard. Sable hurried to the back of the car and her tense expectant body eased up as she saw nothing suspicious. The trunk was neatly organized with its spare tire under a cover, a green metal tool box secured in one corner, a bundle of maps and guide books fastened by a rubber band. None of the trash found in most car trunks, not even a stray scrap of paper.
Reluctantly, Sable brought the trunk lid down. She drew on her enhanced smell but only caught a pungent whiff of gasoline fumes on one side of the car. Someone had spilled a few drops while filling the tank. Her hearing shifted up to higher levels next, but the sound of the car engine was all that met her probe. It seemed to be running rough, which was surprising since she would have expected a luxury vehicle like this to be better maintained. With a sinking heart, she went back to the driver window and gently pushed her partner's gun hand down. To the driver, she said, "You can go now. Sorry for the inconvenience."
The chauffeur hastened to comply. As the long sedan rolled away, Sheng Mo-Yuan holstered his dart gun reluctantly. "What was that all about?"
She explained what she had seen and started back toward their own vehicle. "Well, that was humiliating. I sure didn't find anyone in that car."
"Heh," Argent smirked. "You have to wonder what the driver thought about all the fuss. His eyes sure bugged out when I shoved the dart gun at him."
"I can't understand it," said Sable. "I know I saw a dark figure slide into the back but there was no trace of him. I guess he immediately left on the other side, keeping low so I wouldn't spot him."
"And he figured that checking the car would delay us enough that he could get away?" Argent snorted unhappily. "We were outmaneuvered by a master sneak, Lauren."
"I guess..." Her voice trailed off. After a moment, she shook her head and shrugged. "Oh well, remember we're just starting out. We have a lot to learn, Sheng. Let's search the area while we can. Maybe my enhanced vision can pick up something so we don't go back to base with our tails between our legs."
Back in the house, unknown to them at the moment, two more bodyguards were sprawled senseless on the floor, breathing unevenly because the drugs they had been given. In a plush leather-covered recliner, the remains of Robert Albertini were approaching room temperature. Very little blood had dripped from the round blue hole between his eyebrows.
Miles away by then, the Lincoln town car rolled smoothly through the night. The engine was much quieter. An apparatus controlled by a dashboard switch had made the motor sound rougher and louder than it actually was. This was one of many gadgets that the Lincoln had been modified with. Behind the wheel, the driver said, "Did I do well, sir?"
"Satisfactory," hissed a cold voice from the back of the car. "You followed the plan and you sounded convincing. You are a good soldier in my campaign, Lester." Having emerged, the Monk fastened the hinged sections of the rear seat and settled back more comfortably. In the hollow compartment within the seat, he had been curled up as he had concealed himself many times before. His shallow breathing through a tube that emerged by the exhaust had been hidden by the engine noise, and any scent he might have carried had been swamped by the stink of spilled gasoline. This was not the first time he had escaped detection this way.
"About those two investigators, sir? If I might be so bold?"
The Monk snarled. "The Tel Shai knights of this era, I gather. Dabblers and dilettantes who interfere with my work. They need not concern us now, back to the Prewitt estate, Lester. There is much to do."
The driver's voice was hesitant. "Then we are not returning to Mr Vidimar?"
"Certainly not!' snapped the hollow voice. "The fool! He brought the Monk back to the world and thought I would be one of his cringing servants. How little he knows of what he has unleashed. The scum of the underworld would wake in cold terror if they knew what is coming for them!" From the darkness of the back seat, an ominous chuckle broke into full, mocking laughter.
[9/23/2000 - Rev 3/17/2012]