The Diamond Dust on Dragonfly Wings: A Jeffry Claxton Mystery Novel

by Michael Yudov

  “Evie!”

  She whirled around, and yelled back, over-excited.

  “What? What!”

  Then she got a look at me and ran to my side, looking me up and down. Concern. Heartfelt. No time.

  “We’re going to be fighting our way out of here within five minutes. I’m going up to organize the retreat. Take what you want, and be upstairs with the suit on in two minutes. Comms on for everybody. Two way comms for all, and our second channel separate. We’ll take the van until we spot more inconspicuous transport.

  There’s going to be silent death here tonight, and I’ll be damned if it’s going to be us. Three minutes to the van. Wait for my clearance. Don’t expect anything you can understand, just my voice. When you hear me over our channel, move. I feel like I’m going deep this time. You protect the girls, leave the fire-fight to me. Move!”

  She paused just for a second and looked down at the trigger.

  “What’s that?”

  I looked at her, standing six inches from me, eye to eye. She had those eyes a man could swim in. But I wasn’t swimming anywhere today.

  “A nuclear device ‘trigger’. The very latest design work, by the look of it. Manufactured by the corporation that builds them for the United States of America, contrary to the ‘currently in force’ Nuclear Proliferation Treaty, referred to as an ‘Arms Agreement’ in the old days. This one’s sole purpose is to detonate a Neutron device. The Nuclear strike that only takes out Biological targets, leaving the affected area ground-navigable within forty-eight hours of detonation. That’s if you’re wearing the right kind of protective clothing. The kind your government gives you before sending you into this… particular type… of Harm’s Way. Now carry out your orders, Commander.”

  Her face changed in an instant. She knew by now that when I said something serious I was actually being serious. She changed her entire demeanour.

  “Yes, sir!”

  Then she ran back to where she was stashing goodies, dashing to do my bidding. I’d better start doing some of my own work. I grabbed the jetpack with one hand and ran for the stairs. At the bottom were two of Evie’s black knapsacks, filled. I took her decisions at face value and grabbed the two of them on my way up the stairs. From the landing, I almost leaped up the ladder.

  I went up fast, the feeling starting strongly in my musculature, working its way through my central nervous system, until it found the brake switch for time and a lot of stuff between the two. I was on the edge. One minute after I’d erupted from the trap-door into the kitchen, both of the women were getting into the suits. I was helping both Therese and Ronnie at the same time. By the time Evie came up, they were both fully suited, as was Evie, but she had some sort of head contraption on over the cowl/balaclava. I heard the click as she put us all online. Over our separate channel, she said softly, “Night vision and infrared. It’s Okay.”

  I put down Evie’s two knapsacks and grabbed my bag and one of Therese’s, and headed out the back door. There were no signs of action, so I knew they weren’t here yet. They wouldn’t wait for anything once they arrived. It would be a quick fire fight. No waiting.

  I headed for the garage back door, running. Just before I got to the door I dropped the two bags and the jet pack. I rolled, coming up with both the Colt and the H&K, and then my shoulder took the door latch right out of the frame. It sounded loud to me, like the snapping of a large dry stick of wood, a kind of cracking sound, but it probably wasn’t. As I entered the garage I dived left, to the darkness, and continued running, down the length of the van, around the front, then up the passenger’s side, ending at the back door. We were still clear. I was switched on to my channel with Evie, and I called for them all.

  “Now! Now! Go!”

  I stepped outside the door and picked up the bags and the jet pack, ran back inside the garage, and dropped it all at the rear of the van. I went down to the front driver door and put the keys in the ignition. It started right away, making almost no sound at all, even in the confined space of the garage. I hit the buttons for all locks, and for the rear hatch door, holstered my guns, then went back and gave a single heave, opening the rear door all the way. I slung the bags and the jet pack in, over the top of the rearmost bench seat.

  I was done and back at the stairs from the kitchen door before everyone had gotten it together enough to be out and running. Evie had already made a small pile of the gear she was taking, and their bags were in the pile as well. I made two trips to the van, tossing each case and bag into the space behind the seat, and over the back of the rear seat, just like the others.

  By this time all three were on their way across the intervening space between the house and the garage. It wasn’t far, it should only take a few seconds, but they were moving slowly, because of the suits, and because of me. I was slipping deeper every second that passed. I knew that the grey men were coming, or some variation on that theme. There was plenty of reason to eradicate the whole lot of us, after we’d pushed that button. The result of not getting us before we left was a serious one. That trigger was illegal in every corner of this planet, and exposure would be a life-threatening event.

  There would be a team sent out. They would search until they found him, and where the ‘trigger’ had gone. Mark wouldn’t be able to protect anyone after this. His own life would be on the line. That would be reason enough to hunt us down. If he could.

  I took the wheel as the team entered the van through the sliding doors on both sides, I hit the remote, and the big door started opening. It too was pretty silent, working on a well-greased screw mechanism.

  As soon as the door was almost open and I blasted the van out of the garage, by revving the engine in neutral, and then ramming it into Low gear. Both of the side doors closed at the same time as we rocketed into the lane, skidding into our turn to the right, heading further into the wealthier residential section of town.

  I had no lights on, even though the running headlights would normally be set on automatically, as soon as the vehicle was set in gear and mobile. Just one of the little customization features. There was a small red toggle switch next to the steering column, marked ‘LIGHTS’, and what it did was turn them all off. Everything was going lucky in our favour so far, but I knew how quickly that could change.

  The one thing I couldn’t help was the squealing of the tires. The biggest noise we made was when we bounced out of the lane and onto the road proper. A four-wheel drift and a switch from low to third gear. A great transmission they had made, Chrysler. In third, it only kicked up when it had to, and kicked down as soon as it possibly could. Maximum torque. All microprocessor controlled, and very efficient.

  As I was turning out of the lane I flashed a glance at the rear-view mirror, and there was nothing. Then I was drifting into the turn, and the van was pointed more or less where I wanted it to go, so I floored it. We all were pushed back in our seats when the kickdown came, now we could hear the engine, but damn, it was good! I kept going at the corner, straight through a stop sign and a ninety-degree turn. We were doing ninety kilometers an hour when I slipped through the next corner, this time running a red light, and changing course to the left. There was some noise from the back, yelling or something but I couldn’t make out the words. To me, everything was happening too slowly. It seemed like we were out for a Sunday drive. That was because I had no way to reference my speed except for the gauges. There were no other cars on the road. Not yet, anyway.

  The yelling wouldn’t stop, and what it was saying finally filtered into my head. Tail. I flicked my eyes to the mirrors, all three, then back to the road in front of me. There were headlights just turning the last corner I’d turned at as I turned yet another corner. As I drifted through the intersection, I oversteered the turn, driving right up onto someone’s lawn three houses from the corner. I think I ruined a flower bed as I slewed to a stop, but hey, flowers don’t count.

  As the van came to a stop I was out and I had the passenger side sliding door open b
efore the vehicle had finished rocking on its suspension.

  “Rocket!”

  I yelled that on Evie’s separate channel, even though everyone could hear me without comms, and I hoped she would understand. She did. Slowly, she pulled a launcher from under her arm and handed it to me, with another missile to back up the first shot. If I needed more than one, it would just be getting messy. I took the launcher, and left the offering of the second round where it was.

  I was just settled into place on the passenger side at the rear of the van as the tail came into view. Now I had some reference. I knew that they were moving as fast as they could drive, but it was all too slow. I was gone. I didn’t need the protected position I’d taken.

  The car came into sight nose first, the driver doing his level best not to wipe out. The target was too big to miss and moving so slowly that I really didn't need a rocket launcher. I felt as if I could walk up to the window of their car as it came through the corner, and take them out with my bare hands. Maybe I could have, I’ll never know. My higher brain functions wouldn’t let me expose myself that way. That’s the dangerous part of what happens when I enter ‘Slow Time’. It made me feel… separate… and gave me crazy thoughts and even crazier ideas. Sometimes I followed them, sometimes my inner self said ‘Uh-Uh, no way buddy!’ It was still all too easy. I jumped from my crouch and ran to the middle of the road.

  It took a few seconds for the driver to compensate for the back end slide he’d gotten into. The car had to almost come to a stop before he had regained directional control of the steering. I took in the visual info. It was a grey Audi, with four men inside. All four of them were dressed in grey, but the driver had no cowl on. I held the launcher in my right hand, down along the side of my body. I pulled the H&K out with my left, and raised the gun level with my eyes, my arm stretched out full. As the car recentered itself, the headlights started to swing onto me. But slowly. I pushed the button beside the trigger and a small red dot appeared on the windshield, right in front of the drivers face. I fired twice, but it sounded like one big ‘chuff’ with the silencer on, and the speed of the shots. The headlights finally got to where I was, but the car kept on turning, and ran right into a tree near the corner on the other side of the street. The driver wasn’t driving any more, that was obvious, but they would start spilling out of the car any second now, and once they were separated, it would be hard tracking them all down without sustaining damage of some sort.

  The H&K went back into my holster, carefully, because of the silencer. Then I raised the launcher to my shoulder, pointed and pushed the stud.

  The missile had almost less kick than my Colt, and was it slow! I watched as the smoke and fire belched from the tube on my shoulder, spitting out death, death that rode a flame of acceleration directly to the car. I watched it all the way there, about fifty feet.

  I had no idea what sort of round Evie had put in this thing, so I was ready for anything. Just as it reached the car, one of the doors opened, and a grey man spilled into the street. The missile went right in the open door. It was the front passenger door, so I didn’t think the driver would mind. The two in the back might though. But only for a fraction of a second, if that. When the detonation came I could see it mushrooming before the sound even got to me. Flat on the road with both hands over my ears, that was how the shock-wave found me, and passed right over me.

  Instantly, I was up again. Looking back at the car I could see that the missile had been something Evie had only guessed at, but she had guessed well. It had been an explosive round, certainly. But I had been moved about ten feet along the road pavement. Considering that the round had been no bigger than an overgrown dart, as missiles go, the result was spectacular. There was nothing left of the car or its occupants. Not that I could see, anyway. There were some shadows in the fire, but they would be as dead as the car was. Then the roof came back down. The part that had stayed together. It fell in slow motion, barely tumbling as it fell. I caught sight of it at about thirty feet up. I watched for a second and remembered the bridge, falling forever. The piece of metal hit the ground about half-way back through the intersection. There were flaming bits of metal and plastic all around me, and maybe even some bits of people.

  The one who had made it out of the door before the hit had been tumbled like a piece of paper in the wind. He was a lot closer to me than he’d been when he first hit the road. He was lying face down about five feet away. I walked over to him and stepped on one of his hands. With the Colt in my right, I reached down and ripped the balaclava off of his head. Then there was a small cough, and he was breathing again. Not dead. I stuck the Colt in his ear as I rolled him over, keeping my foot on the one hand. He was suffering from internal injuries, I could see that right away. There was a trickle of blood from his nose and mouth and ears. He wouldn’t be waking up for me to talk to. I quickly stripped him of his suit, and walked away from him, leaving him bleeding in the street.

  The explosion had blown out every window in the front of the house where the car hit the tree, and a big bay window in the front of the house right beside it. Lights were coming on in every house I could see, and probably a lot that I couldn’t see as well. The man whose lawn I had violated was on the front porch now, screaming at me in Swiss-German. ‘Police’ was the only intelligible word that I caught.

  I was back in the driver’s seat, and I closed the door and handed the launcher towards the back without looking. Someone took it from my hand as soon as I proffered it. My eye was on the street. There would be a crowd in seconds. Time to go.

  I pulled off the lawn in low four-wheel drive, then slipped it back up into third, punching it as soon as the wheels were on solid cement. The side walk. I think that for having no lights on whatsoever I did fairly well. I ran that residential section of town for fifteen minutes at about eighty miles an hour, on average. Straightaways, I don’t know, because I didn’t look, but it was fast. Too bad we had to dump it. Nice van.

  I came around the curve in a winding crescent road, and spotted exactly what I wanted. A Range Rover. I slowed to a stop as I pulled in front of the Rover. Thirty seconds later we were transferring luggage. Ninety seconds later we were on our way with a nice new Range Rover. One with all of the off-road options. Metal grills over the headlights, winch on the front, two spare tires, roll bars throughout, I liked the Range Rovers, they were just a bit pricey for me. Well, they were yesterday. I realized with a start that tomorrow I could buy any kind of car I wanted to. Even a Range Rover.

  The balance in the account that had been gifted to me by Sam just this morning was staggering. I had only looked after we arrived at the safe house the first time. I was a millionaire for the first time in my life. A few times over, and I was being hunted by some very unpleasant people. What an ironic day.

  Ten minutes later, I stopped to change plates with another Range Rover. What a stroke of luck. Two Range Rover’s in ten minutes. Now we had unknown transport, and our plates wouldn’t match the stolen Rover, but they would report as being Rover plates, but not stolen. The colour and model were wrong, but they both said RANGE ROVER on them. It could work.

  I headed for the banking district.

  ~

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  T

  he women were getting changed as we drove, out of the gray suits, and into something more suitable for normal people who weren’t on the run. The Range Rover was more crowded than the van had been, and there were complaints along that line. I was coming back to normal, driving like any good citizen would, but feeling the effects of my actions. I was feeling pretty rough, actually. I don’t think I’d ever started my day with this kind of shit, and then had to go through it twice more before even lying down for a night’s rest.

  Evie had taken the seat next to me in front, so I couldn’t see what was happening with Therese. I’d have to depend on Ronnie to make sure she was Okay. Evie turned out to be the one who did most of the griping, but it was more like she was talking to herse
lf. When she pulled the full cut jacket off, her tee-shirt came riding up with it. I kept my eye on the road, but my peripheral vision was telling me tales of loveliness. I caught the fleeting impression of a small tattoo, shaped in the symbol for ‘WOMAN’, like the circle with cross at the bottom. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and if she noticed me noticing her, she didn’t say.

  This working with women was starting to make me feel very protective. That was good for them, dangerous for their enemies, and one hell of a tiring job for me.

  Once she’d gotten all of the armour off, she threw it into the back, where it was being taken care of. Except for the headpiece. That was handed back with strict instructions as to its care and feeding. Then she tied her hair back from her face with some kind of elasticized band of material. It was plain blue, but it matched her jeans. It looked good.

  A quick glance in the rear-view mirror showed me that everybody was more or less back to normal. So, a plan would be in order.

  “Ronnie.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think that you might like to do a little camping?”

  “Camping? Why not. We’ve tried everything else under the sun today. We might as well try camping. Is there a specific camping store you’d like to burglarize, or should we all just start keeping an eye out for one?”

  “Cool it, Colonel. Ease back on those jets or you’ll flame out. We’ve got a full camping kit in the back. Next to the second spare tire. I have a feeling the owner was taking his family for a significant outing tomorrow. Now we’ll just have to take advantage of that, or find a secluded place to park, and hope we don’t get arrested. Votes please?”

  Evie piped up right away.

  “Anything that lets me lie down and sleep without being killed while I do it sounds fine to me. I’ve got to show for work in the morning, remember?”