“Gentlemen.” Chase did the honors. “Meet Shanna McLain.”
“Shall I unbind her?” Tallfeather asked.
“Better not.” Said Chase and Brian in unison.
Willie snorted. “A woman. You bring a woman here?” He asked Chase with withering scorn.
“That’s no woman. That’s a firebrand.” Chase wasn’t going to admit he had failed to stop her.
“Hmph. What kind of man can't control his females?” Willie hadn't even bothered to look at Shanna who was looking daggers at him. She shook off her captor and started forward. Willie snapped his fingers and two of his men came forward and grabbed her.
“They will take her to the back of the line and keep her out of the way.”
“Good idea.” Chase and Brian seemed to be doing a duet.
Shanna had finally managed to loosen the gag. “You do and I’ll scream so loud this whole woods will know I’m here.” Shanna struggled for breath to say more when a brown hand covered her mouth. She bit down on it hard. Smothered curses accompanied her hasty and somewhat noisy departure from the front lines. Even Willie’s men couldn’t still her struggles.
Joe was amused. “So. That’s the one. You have your work cut out for you, my friend. That one will take some taming. Perhaps you should have let her fight.”
“Perhaps.” Chase retorted. “But she probably would have put all of us to shame.” Damned if that wasn’t the stubbornest woman he had ever met. Chase admired her determination but he was a biker, a macho sexist like Brian and the Indians. Women had no business in battle. The Indians would take care of her and he would not have to worry about it. He hoped.
Returning to business, the four men made their way to the edge of the trees surrounding the compound. Another vehicle was sitting in the compound. A sentry reported that it had arrived about ten minutes ago. A short, balding man had emerged and hurried into the main building. Dominick. Good. They would bag both of them at once.
Brian unzipped his hold all. He took out the tainted meat which was now smelling nicely ripe and signaled that he would edge around towards the kennels and take care of the dogs. Chase gave him a thumbs up. Joe and Willie left for opposite sides of the compound with wire cutters. They would cut their way into both fences after disabling the electricity. Each took a couple of men as lookouts with them. Chase would attempt to open the front gates. If all went well they would be inside the compound before Hickman even knew they were there.
The only light was above the door of the main building. No inside lights could be seen because of the blacked out windows and the huge outside lights that ordinarily lit up the compound had not been switched on. So much the better. Chase could work on the gate without much fear of being seen. Chase waited a few minutes until Brian returned from doping the dogs and together they sprinted across the open ground to the gates. Not locked. How careless.
Silently Chase and Brian entered the compound. They were halfway to the buildings when the door burst open and Dominick ran out nursing one arm. The three men stopped dead and stared at each other. Right behind Dominick came Myles holding a gun. Chase dived to the left. Brian to the right. Myles dove back inside the building and Dominick stood uncertainly in the middle.
Without warning a blinding light lit the compound as bright as day. Myles had turned on the floodlights. Brian and Chase ran for cover. From behind a turtle tank, Chase saw that Joe’s men were still working frantically on the fence. They were almost done. Then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Dominick running behind the smallest building. Chase signaled to Brian and started to follow but he didn’t get far.
Joe’s scouts had been wrong. Men were pouring from the living quarters. Evidently Myles had hired a small army of lackeys in anticipation of this raid or perhaps just to close the place down and take care of Dominick. The men looked rough. They were well armed and headed towards the fence.
All of a sudden there was an incredibly deep unearthly rumble, followed by a blinding flash of light and the heavens opened up. Myles had unleashed his weapon. Rain slashed down on them in torrents digging into their skin like knives. Thunder boomed incessantly, dulling their eardrums and lightning flashed so often they were blinded. It hit the fence and threw off balls of itself, which raced around the top in both directions like quicksilver.
The Indians cried out. Before they could move, the lightning reached them, barreling into flesh. Chase heard their agonized cries cut off as the lightning took them and they grew silent, hurled to the ground. The smell of burning flesh grew strong in Chase’s nostrils.
Chase saw more of Joe’s men running to attack the fence again. Sharpshooters took up positions to pick off Myles’ thugs and archers let fly their arrows tied to ropes. Chase and Brian ran around feverishly grabbing the ropes. They secured them to whatever was handy and the Indians started to scale the fence.
Chase and Brian argued briefly about who should follow Dominick. They both wanted Myles. In the end they both decided to go for Myles. Dominick would keep. Visibility was down to almost nothing. The roar of the storm was deafening. It thrashed and roared and whirled around them, but Chase still heard the rumble of the bikes and saw the headlights racing into the gloom to join the fray. Joe’s men had opened up the fence and pulled open the main gates.
Chase threw back his head and out came his Viking battle cry more blood curdling than even the ululating warriors’ war cries. His men heard it clearly above the storm and responded in kind. Fueled by the smell of battle, Joe’s war cry followed as his warriors came storming in behind him.
The compound became a raging inferno. Myles’ storm still spilled incessant lightning, which sliced through the darkness seeking its path of destruction, each strike accompanied by a crack of thunder. They were lucky to be in such a small area. Myles evidently could not control it so specifically in such close quarters and the fence became its biggest attraction. It zinged and thunder clapped and boomed and the smell of ozone filled the men’s’ nostrils while the smoke grew thicker each passing minute.
The lights of the bikes probed everywhere turning the scene into some mad disco dance floor as they roared and whirled, seeking a target. The turtle tanks had been covered and provided a platform for hand to hand fighting. The Indians whooped and when a particularly blood curdling scream assaulted his ears Chase pictured Willie enjoying his work and shuddered.
Chase had lost sight of Brian. They both had been busy protecting themselves from the unexpected assault of Myles’ lackeys. Sweat dripped from Chase’s brow mingling with the steaming rain. He dispatched his latest assailant with a left cross followed by a head butt and whirled seeking another. Temporarily he was alone. The storage shed had caught fire giving him some sense of direction. Gunfire was sporadic, with little visibility the chance of hitting one of your own was too great.
Squinting, Chase saw an open space and raced into it headed for the main building after Myles. The door was locked. Chase didn’t hesitate. He shot out the lock and kicked it open. Inside was chaos. The floor was knee deep in fulgurites. A heap of paperwork was burning in a corner. Evidently Myles had taken the time to destroy any evidence. No one was in the room.
Chase spotted another door at the rear and figured it was probably about halfway down the length of the building. Again the door was locked. Again he shot the lock and kicked it open. Inside, Myles Hickman stood enclosed in a glass booth. Shaped like a glass sunroom, it took up the entire back wall of the room. The whole front wall of the room, facing the compound was a one way mirror through which Myles could view the compound and he was frantically directing his storm from this command post, his hair standing on end from the static he generated. He turned at Chase’s entrance laughing maniacally. Static danced around his body creating a neon blue aura. He looked like the evil villain from a Superman movie.
“Come in.” Myles croaked. “You can see the finale from here.”
Nonplussed, Chase looked for a way
inside the glass booth. He saw none. Why waste time with doors, he thought. Chase aimed and fired, nothing happened. He fired again, and again. Nothing happened. Not so much as a dent. Myles cackled. “I invented that too.” Wild with anger, Chase frenziedly attacked the glass. He punched it, kicked it, ran into it, threw furniture at it. He could not shatter it. Myles turned his attention back to the storm. “I’ll deal with you later. I’m rather busy now. Do behave and go sit down.”
Panting and heaving, Chase glanced out the window. The storm was intensifying; the whole place seemed to be on fire. The sounds of fighting were still fierce but Chase could not tell what was happening. He turned his attention back to the booth breathing heavily and fighting to calm down. He needed reason now. There must be a way in. And then it hit him. Chase sprinted back out to the other room and searched the floor, kicking aside the fulgurites that covered it.
There, a rectangular area cut out of the flooring. Chase knelt down searching with his fingers. He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption as a figure staggered into the room. Brian was covered in dirt, blood and soot. He was almost unrecognizable except for the white smile.
“Can't leave a boy to do a man’s job. You haven’t got him yet?” Brian inquired.
Chase shook his head irritably and went back to his search.
“What about the formula?” Brian rasped between gulps for breath.
“Don’t know, but he’s been destroying evidence. If we get both of them, we will have the only copies of the formula left.” Chase’s reply was short. “Help me with this, will you?”
Brian staggered over and helped Chase who was pulling and pushing at the rectangle, grimacing with the strain. Brian looked around. He moved over to the credenza behind Myles’ desk and pulled open doors and drawers. After a few minutes Chase heard a triumphant “Got it” and hastily pulled his hands away as the floor beneath him started to slide. Brian must have found a button.
A stairway appeared. The entrance to Myle’s domain. The two men grinned victoriously at each other and clambered down just as lightning slashed through the shattered windows and fiery fingers of destruction raced across the room towards them.
Seventy
Dominick bulled his way through the woods like an automaton dazed and shaken, the sounds of a fierce battle raging behind him. He realized subconsciously that his wound was not life threatening, at least yet, but he couldn’t believe he was bleeding. He had no idea how much blood he could lose and still be okay or indeed anything about physical wounds. He had a bullet in his shoulder and it hurt like hell. He wanted to lie down and curl up with his thumb in his mouth and whimper and make it all go away but there were crazed people behind him. Unless he was delirious, he had seen Indians with bows and arrows. He must be delirious.
Dominick ran like the hounds of hell were after him. He rather thought they were. Finally he could run no more and he came to a slithering stop, bent over at the knees, starved for breath. It was pitch black. He had no idea where he was but he must have traveled some distance because the hellish sounds behind him were much softer now. He had done it. He had gotten away. That crazy Myles had finally flipped his lid. He had unleashed the mother of all storms. The whole countryside would soon come running.
Surprised, Dominick realized he was still carrying his briefcase, in his crushed hand no less. He had forgotten about his hand. Dominick dropped the briefcase and subsided, panting beside it. He gingerly pulled off his jacket and nearly fainted when he tried to move his shirt material away from the wound to get a look at it. Hastily he dug in his pockets and came up with a handkerchief. He stuffed this on top of the wound to try and staunch the bleeding a little and then put his jacket back on to help keep it in place.
He looked around fearfully. Dominick was a townie. There were snakes and spiders and crawly things and shit out here. God what a mess. He had to get out of here and soon. Obviously he couldn’t get back to his car and he couldn’t go to the ranger station for help but he did have his gun in his briefcase, maybe he could reach the road and hijack a vehicle. He had to get moving anyway. Sitting still like this, the pain in his shoulder became almost unbearable and the mosquitoes were vicious.
This was a park after all. If he could find even the remnants of a trail it would surely lead eventually to an exit route. Dominick hoisted his briefcase, shut his eyes and picked a direction. Sure enough, about twenty minutes later he stepped out of the undergrowth onto a trail. Sweating and panting, Dominick put one foot in front of the other, eyes sweeping the ground to make sure he did not lose what little direction he had.
He plodded along for some time, eyes fixed on the ground in so much concentration he did not register when a sound occurred close behind him. Too late, he screeched as something pounded him in the ass, sending him sprawling face first and he crashed into the ground onto his wounded shoulder. Dominick cried out in pain and rolled over fearfully. He was confronted by Shanna’s lowering foot.
“Shanna? What in the world are you doing here?” Dominick’s mouth hung open in disbelief at the apparition before him.
Shanna stood, feet apart, hands on hips, glaring at her boss, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “Didn’t expect to see me, Dom? Thought I was somewhere else tonight?” she asked with deceptive sweetness.
Dominick lay on his back in the dirt staring at his paralegal. In the darkness he could just make out that she didn’t seem to be in the best of shape and she was beyond furious. Dominick knew Shanna well. This degree of anger was greater than anything he had ever seen and he had seen her intimidate the most formidable people. Goddamn that layabout Mick. He had fucked up again.
Dominick looked around. There seemed to be just the two of them. He looked back at Shanna trying to judge his options. “Well, look who’s here,” he sneered. “You really ought to do something about your grooming, Shanna. Can’t stop, I’m afraid. No time to chat.”
“Don’t bother with the act, Dominick.” Shanna was shaking with anger.
Dominick recoiled and made to push past her.
She stabbed a finger at him. “You ordered me dead. You conceited, arrogant, moronic, snot-nosed, asshole. Who appointed you God? How dare you. It’s a little different now you're terrified it’s you who are going to die isn't it? And don’t think for one minute that I couldn’t do it. But I’ve got other plans for you.” Shanna pulled out a particularly vicious looking knife and advanced on Dominick who scrabbled backwards as fast as she advanced.
“Wait.” What are you going to do?” Dominick’s eyes were fixated on the knife.
“You see that tree over there?” Shanna pointed at a medium sized nearby tree. “You’re going to strip. Then I’m going to tie you to that tree. Then I’m going to smear berry juice all over you and finally, I’m going to sit right here and smoke one of those foul cigars that you no doubt have in your pocket while the bugs and beasts come to investigate. I see you're already bleeding. Good. That should help.” Shanna grinned fiendishly. “Start stripping.”
“No. Shanna be reasonable, let’s talk about this. I’m going to make a fortune, I’ll share it with you.” Dominick knew he was babbling.
Shanna stuck the knife under his chin. “Strip.”
Dominick stripped slowly. He howled as Shanna helped rip the shirt away from his bleeding shoulder. Finally he was done and stood there shivering. Still gripping his briefcase, miserably trying to shield himself.
Shanna looked him up and down. She grinned derisively. “Your girlfriends always said you had an invisible prick. They weren’t kidding were they? Okay. Over there numbnuts.”
Desperately Dominick looked around for a means of escape. He had come too far to be destroyed by an unhinged paralegal.
His eyes widened in relief as he saw movement at the end of the trail. Shanna heard a noise at the same time and whirled around. Instantly Dominick was on her. “Bitch.” Dominick swung backhandedly. He slammed the brief
case down on her head. “If I had the time I’d finish the job Mick couldn’t.”
Shanna lay unmoving, so Dominick wasted no time, not waiting to see who was coming he was off and running, naked but alive and free and still with his briefcase.
Seventy-one
Chase and Brian landed in the booth at the same time. Myles whirled and backed up dragging his infernal machine with him. The blue light around him was even stronger. The two men advanced grimly.
“Put it down, Myles.” Chase edged towards him slowly. “Stop the storm. It’s over. You’ve no place to go now.”
Myles backed up, his glance swiveling between Chase and Brian.
“Chase,” Brian didn’t take his eyes off Myles while he talked, his voice low, “that blue light around him, and look at his face. He’s white as a ghost. That thing’s killing him. Do you think he’s electrified? If we grab him it might be like grabbing lightning.”
Chase had noticed that too. He wanted Myles Hickman, but he didn’t want to die in the process. He shook his head. “I don’t know but we can't take the chance. We’d better go for the box somehow. How about if I shoot it?”
Both men jumped when a bolt of lightning slashed into the room striking the glass booth. The booth shuddered violently and started to smolder sending up an obnoxious chemical smell.
Myles cackled gleefully. “This whole place is going up and you two heroes with it. It’s not over till the fat lady sings.” With that Myles pushed a button and the glass booth started to slide apart. Myles darted out quick as the lightning he generated, Chase and Brian hot on his heels.
“Grab him.” Chase yelled.
“Your catch old boy. You grab him.” Brian yelled back.
“Well shoot him then.”
“Sorry. Can't see to do that.”
Myles made it into the compound.
“Sure you can, that neon blue thing running over there.”
Both men changed direction as they spotted Myles’ electric blue aura streaking towards the gate. Myles looked back towards them and as he did so an archer’s arrow found its mark. Myles tripped and fell, the storm machine flying from his grasp. Brian dove after the machine.
Yokche:The Nature of Murder Page 25