He was obviously oriental.
Beside him in the cube sat a man in a wheelchair. Remarkably, they shared something in bearing with each other. The standing man was a wolf-leader, while the man in the chair had been. Now, his face hung slack-jawed and empty, his fangs useless.
"You have found, I believe, what you were looking for?" The oriental gestured at the wheelchair. "Perhaps your client will pay you now?"
What?
From out of the darkness to one side, Jennie was dragged forward. She was struggling, but the gag on her mouth kept her from yelling. She looked scared and angry. She was tossed at me.
Hey, I'm a gentleman; I caught her.
"What does he mean?" I tore the gag from her mouth.
"Tha ... that's Max!" She gagged. Her arms were tied too, so I went to work with my knife.
"Yes," the voice from above crowed, "Maxwell Burban; ganglord, smuggler, would-be magnate," he grinned and then sneered, "and living vegetable!"
I had nothing to say to that, so I let him talk. The Nile infection had caught him, too. I needed time for a plan.
"But you, Jack Reynolds, Nile Detective, have it all figured out. Can you not enlighten us all with your knowledge?" he taunted. His men fidgeted, wondering what their leader was up to. I glanced around. Those that bore the stamp of the Nile Empire were comfortable, but I could see Asian men and women glancing up towards the roof. They were worried. Why didn't he just finish it, they were thinking.
"You were the one Jennifer Burban singled out . why? Surely for your doggedness, your brilliance, your —"
"Hey, jerk," I yelled, "your sarcasm's as lame as your grip on reality!"
He looked puzzled for a moment and then laughed. The oriental businessman, cackling like a wild fiend. If I was right, my work was going to be easy.
If I was wrong, I was dead.
"Of course, of course; I should thank you, really. Because of you, I have been able to eliminate one of the few enterprises that do not bow to me. Because of you, I can now rid myself of this ." and he gestured disgustedly at Jennie. Her hands were free now, but stayed rigid at her sides, " ... woman. But, because of me, I can rule Cairo's underworld and, soon, Cairo itself."
"Yeah, buddy, but who are you?" It was working out. I grabbed Jennie's hand and pulled her behind me, as if to protect her.
He looked triumphant and he chortled, "I? I was but a mere cog in the designs of my High Lord, but now," and his face glared evilly at me, "I am the ruler of all." More maniacal laughter. He was losing it.
Had lost it, if I was right.
"And how's that, my lord?" I put as much sarcasm in my voice as I could. The Nile guys stepped forward, within ten feet at the most. They wanted to beat me for that.
I held my breath, passing Den's keys to Jennie. I don't know if she got the idea, but it was her only chance.
"I have done what even the great Maxwell Burban could not do." He ignored my sarcasm; I was a sounding board for his madness. "I came originally to bargain for the Ultragrowth serum. When I was informed it was not for sale, I was ordered to take it. Burban, it was revealed, did not even have it then! He had misled us!" He was ranting, gesticulating in a familiar fashion at the vegetable in the wheelchair.
Then he crouched, as if whispering into Burban's ear. But I could hear him, "He had no serum! He had only a scientist; as much a vegetable as Burban is now. Or so he said ..."
I heard a gasp behind me. Jennie was thinking what I was thinking, "So then what did you do, my lord?"
"I?" He stood again, a look of pleasure on his feral face. His eyes widened as far as they were able and he put his hands to his breast. "I? I did what no Nippon — yes, I dare say it, Nippon!" He shot glares into the shadows, "dared to do! I went to Terra! I found the scientist! I forced him to make the serum!"
Disgust clouded his features yet again, "But I need this, to go." Burban again, "its handprint is all that will open the lock to its own 'private' dimthread." He paused, more evil seeping into his manner. "Fortunately, it bragged about this fact before I decided to remove its consciousness."
"So you got the serum, so what does that have to do with us?" Magnanimously, I included Jennie in my gesture.
"You? Why, nothing at all! You are merely sideshows to the real entertainment! Even now, I am putting pressure on the local gangs to join me or die. The independents, like that ridiculous club you come from, will be wiped out or gathered in! You are of no importance! You will die, now!"
That was my cue.
As the Nile thugs came forward, I pushed Jennie at the still-open barrel. I fired Den's gun at one, but another knocked it from my grasp — too bad, it made a nice blue electric light that made the thug scream.
"Run!" I yelled, and I did a tuck-and-roll towards the thugs. Bullets shot over my head, tearing holes in boxes and crates — but not Jennie. She'd been awake and she had pulled the door shut on the barrel. With any luck, she'd be in the sewers in the next few seconds.
But the thugs were on me. The ninjas were leaping out of the shadows and surrounding me. The mysterious boss was cackling and chortling fit to burst.
Max Burban was drooling and staring.
The thugs got ahold of me first, and the ninjas hovered behind them. I let them grab me and pull me upright. It was what I'd counted on. One last look at the boss before the end, eh?
Fools.
"Hey, Charlie Chan," I yelled, "how's your grip on reality!"
And then the world exploded.
I thought of Mai Li, and Sacramento — before the invasion — and my home. I thought of a brother I'd never see again and fast food joints and taxes. I remembered what it was like to handle divorce cases and palimony suits and do skip tracing. I took it all and threw it at the maniac near the ceiling.
It was a weird experience, one I'd only been through once before—when I'd first struggled free of a wrecked car and found myself face-to-face with a monster from another world — a ravagon.
Now, as then, I felt an alienness try to overwhelm me. That time, it had been fighting, and killing, and flying that were the centers of the universe. Now, it was weird science, and death traps, and master plans. Evil versus good. Drama. Cliffhangers.
At first, I felt alone and small. The thugs surrounding me and the ninjas were only small specters in the background of a whirlwind, a red-and-blue cascade that enveloped me and ... Tatsuo Naritama. I knew his name.
But I fought back. My life, my experiences, against his mad dreams of conquest. He was fierce, and strong, and the storm raged, engulfing the catacombs. I saw, as if out of the corner of my eye, specters dancing in the winds, battering themselves to pieces on the walls. I saw one lump in particular fall from a high place and crash below.
Naritama shrieked and cursed silently. He was not prepared. This world, this reality, was new to him. He didn't know everything he could do. But he was strong. He lifted me up and cast me down a hundred times.
But the hundred and first was mine.
Suddenly, it was over. The red and blue didn't fade so much as blend into the background — it was still there, still between us, but it was no longer in contest.
I had won.
The warehouse was destroyed. The walls and ceiling were destroyed, and, here and there, there were bodies in the wreckage. Only one breathed. I walked to it.
"Tatsuo." While he had not been physically harmed by the storm, like me, he had been standing on a platform twenty feet in the air. The platform had not been so lucky. Our contest had wrecked it and, when the storm ended, he fell to the floor. His body was smashed.
He didn't say anything, and blood was leaking from his mouth. At first, his hatred and despair cut into me like a knife, but then an overwhelming sadness wore into his features. He seemed to relax and then his eyes closed.
A better death than he deserved.
I walked over to the destroyed barrel and cleared away the wreckage. The door was intact, so I pulled my gun and put a few rounds into the lock. I f
lung it open.
I looked down and saw spikes.
"Jennie!" I yelled. I grabbed the top rung and swung down, cursing. I hadn't had time to tell her about the spikes —
"Relax, sport, I'm okay."
She was lying to one side of the trap, her knee twisted and obviously either dislocated or broken. "It's funny," she laughed, "when the bullets started firing, I panicked and jumped. I hit the plate and fell to one
Rules, Part IV side, my knee smashed. The spikes came up with my leg right between them."
I laughed that time, a long, hysterical laugh. I don't know exactly why, but her getting lucky and getting out alive made it all seem —
"Burban!" I yelled. I jumped over to her. She didn't get it and then:
"Ohmigodwhathappened!" She started fighting with the chain around her neck.
I grabbed her hands and looked in her eyes. "He's dead."
"That means ."
I pulled the necklace, now visible in her hands, from around her neck. We looked at each other for a heartbeat and then broke into more wild laughter.
"The bastard lied!"
Our laughter echoed in the tunnel.
* * *
To sum up, the Burban gang's back has been broken, and the "outside interests" are suddenly no longer interested in Cairo. Whether they know I'm here or not, it doesn't matter. A clear message has been sent: hands off.
Strangely, that was what Den "Iniquity" Abhibe had wanted. He didn't mind the atrocities that were practised every day by his boss; he just didn't want "outsiders" doing them. Cairo scum for Cairo. Hoo-rah.
The Northside Watershed is doing great business. It seems somebody leaked, to those who cared, their part in keeping Cairo a hometown business, and it's been declared "hands off" territory by the major gangs. They respect tough, and they respect money. The Watershed's got plenty of both.
Farastan and Angie are back in business, though Fast still misses Bennie. I hear he's interviewing for bartenders, but he's pretty exacting.
But not for bouncers. Damn his big hide, but Jules survived. The poison, some sort of combination sleep/ death thing, actually slowed his metabolism so much we all thought he was gone. Turns out, the big ape was wearing bulletproof stuff under his clothes (who'd've thought they made stuff that big), and most of the blood covering was the ninjas'.
As for Mrs. Burban, she disappeared. Most Cairo-nians or Cairoites or whatever the hell it is think she either got killed, ran off or jumped ship back to Terra to look for her father. They don't really care; she was a bit player anyway. I don't disabuse them of the fact that she couldn't have gone back to Terra without Mobius' permission, however.
I used the money from that job, plus the bonus from Den's pocket — hey, it wasn't doing him any good — to get a new office and pay off Nick. Turns out, he was as relieved as anybody to get rid of the Japs. He let me off on the interest, as long as I could pay the capital, which I did.
Sweet guy, that Nick.
So, now I sit in my new two-room office with a fine glass of Scotch. I've got money stashed away, which means I won't be working any time soon, and I certainly won't be taking any cases from leggy redheads any time soon.
That reminded me. Fingering the buzzer on my desk, I signalled for my secretary, "Miss Foss, could you come in here a minute?"
The door opened, and a leggy brunette strolled in with a notepad. Ah, affluence ...
"Yes, Mr. Reynolds?"
I kicked back in my chair. "Take a letter, Miss Foss. 'Dearest, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the grand reopening of the Northside Watershed, featuring Angie and the Mighty Pharaohs. I will pick you up at 7:30.' Signed 'Jack Reynolds,' blahblahblah."
My secretary scribbled hastily. Her shorthand sucked, but I like the way she types. "Is that all, sir?"
"Yeah, that's it." She got up to leave. "Oh, and drop it in your mail box, will you, Jennie?"
My grin was received and returned.
Ah, Cairo ...
Mysterious Cairo Page 31