Rogue Angel 53: Bathed in Blood

by Alex Archer

  That was fine with Annja; it gave her a chance to turn her head toward them under the cover of darkness. She waited a moment to make sure neither of them had noticed and then cracked her eyes open the tiniest bit, just enough to see what they were doing without advertising that she was conscious.

  Owens was squatting next to the Y, his back to Annja. He appeared to be tugging at something. Radecki stood nearby, holding both lights so Owens could see what he was doing. Annja didn’t need to see them to know what was happening; she’d examined the device pretty thoroughly when she’d been filming the other day.

  At the base of the Y was a mechanism that controlled the frame’s movement. When a thick iron pin was removed, a hinge allowed the Y to be lowered to the ground so the latest victim could be strapped into place. Once that was completed, the Y could be raised back up and the pin returned to its rightful place, holding the Y upright and allowing the victim’s blood to drain downward into the bath.

  It took Owens a few minutes to get the pin out, but after that it was relatively smooth sailing. The two men lowered the frame and then turned back to get Annja. She quickly closed her eyes and let her head and right hand hang limp like the rest of her limbs, not wanting to give anything away until she was ready to make her move. It wasn’t easy; it took everything she could muster not to fight them off the minute they laid their hands on her.

  They stretched her out atop the frame, with her spine against the center post and her feet together at the base. Annja knew that if she was going to get out of here she couldn’t allow them to secure her in place, so she cracked her eyes open just enough that she could keep them in view while preparing to make her move. Her legs still wouldn’t obey her, but her right arm was almost fully under her control and her left arm wasn’t too far behind. All she needed was a few more minutes.

  Radecki stepped out of sight for a moment, and when he returned he was carrying several short lengths of rope, each about a yard long.

  Her time had just officially run out.

  35

  Owens grabbed her by the ankles while Radecki readied the ropes. Neither of them was paying any real attention to her. It was the perfect opportunity to take control of the situation.

  Now or never.

  Radecki suddenly stood up. “Finish tying her feet,” he said to Owens. “I’ll take care of her hands.”

  Radecki stepped over her legs and squatted down in the space between her outstretched arm and her torso, intent on lashing her wrist to the brace. This close she could see that he had bandages wrapped around his lower torso, no doubt covering the stab wound she’d given him earlier.

  He didn’t even spare her a glance...had no idea she was conscious.

  She considered summoning the sword but decided against it. Her left arm was still weak, and if she dropped the sword, she’d lose the element of surprise.

  Annja couldn’t let him tie her down, so sword or no sword, she had to make her move and she had to do it now.

  As Radecki reached for her arm, she snatched it back, causing him to start in surprise and turn in her direction. As his body opened up, Annja drove a fist right into the spot where she’d stabbed him earlier.

  Radecki’s howl of pain filled the room, echoing off the stone walls as he involuntarily hunched over his injury. That brought his head down and forward, which was exactly what Annja had hoped would happen. Before he had time to recover, she drew her arm across her body and then snapped it back out, slamming the base of her fist into Radecki’s temple.

  The cop dropped flat, clearly dazed. Annja had hoped the blow would be enough to render him unconscious, but she wasn’t that lucky. Even as she looked on, Radecki pushed himself up on his palms, shaking his head, clearly trying to get back up.

  Oh, no, you don’t.

  Annja brought her arm up, ready to deliver another blow, only to have her aim thrown off at the last moment. As a result, her fist careered off Radecki’s shoulder instead of slamming into his temple.

  “I’ve got her! I’ve got her!” she heard Owens shout.

  Looking down toward her feet, Annja saw Owens squatting there, his hands around her ankle, and realized that he must have pulled on her leg in the moment before she’d struck. She still couldn’t feel that limb, so she’d had no idea that he’d laid hands on her.

  But she knew now, and she was none too happy about it. Watching him holding her leg down and shouting for his partner sent a white-hot fury raging through her veins.

  She reacted almost without thought, and her foot was halfway to Owens’s face before she’d even realized she could feel her left leg well enough to kick with it.

  Owens probably didn’t know what hit him. One minute he was shouting to his partner and the next Annja’s boot was striking him square in the bridge of the nose, breaking it with an audible crack. Unfortunately for him, he was crouched at the edge of the sunken tub when the kick landed and, as a result, he tumbled to the bottom of the bath.

  The meaty thud that reached Annja’s ears just seconds after Owens disappeared didn’t bode well for the man’s health. Annja didn’t know how badly he was injured, but either way it seemed Dr. Owens was no longer a threat.

  Annja turned toward Radecki, only to discover the hard way that he wasn’t out of the fight quite yet when he smashed her across the jaw with a vicious haymaker.

  Annja saw it coming at the last second and rolled her head with the blow so it didn’t have as much impact. She blocked the next punches and then managed to sneak one of her own past Radecki’s defenses, rocking the man’s head back just as he’d done to her moments before, dazing him.

  Annja took advantage of that brief lull to try to scramble to her feet, only to have her right leg collapse under her, still too numb to hold her weight. She ended up sprawled on the floor, staring at Radecki.

  He didn’t waste any time capitalizing on her misfortune. Radecki lurched to his feet, pulling something out of his pocket as he did so, and threw himself atop her. For a moment Annja thought he was just trying to pin her to the floor, but then she felt something jab her thigh.

  Looking down, she found an autoinjector device sticking out of her leg.

  He’d drugged her!

  Not again.

  Suddenly frightened, Annja batted the injector away and stared up at him.

  “What did you do?”

  Laughing, Radecki leaned back, a smug grin on his face. He was already starting to relax, as if the fight was over and Annja just hadn’t realized it yet.

  Adrenaline was pouring through her system, both in reaction to the fight and her fear of whatever Radecki had injected her with, and it did what time alone had not yet managed to do—it freed the rest of her muscles from their reaction to the stun gun. As Radecki’s grip on her loosened, Annja fought back.

  She reached up and grabbed Radecki’s arm, pulling it sideways so he started to turn as he fell toward her. At the same time she scythed her legs up, ignoring the pain in her right thigh, wrapping one leg around his head so that his neck was trapped in the crook of her knee. She locked her foot behind her other knee and began to squeeze her legs together as hard as she could while pulling his arm forward across her.

  For a second Radecki only stared at her with a confused expression on his face, but as she began to bear down, using her legs to choke the air from his brain, the danger of his position finally set in. He reached around the back of his head and tried to pull Annja’s legs apart, to release the crushing pressure that was starting to build on his neck, but her hold was cinched in tight, and it was going to take a lot more than the strength Radecki had in a single arm to break it. He wasted a few precious seconds trying and then, when that didn’t work, began to flail at her with his free arm. His position made it hard for him to land a blow with any significant force, though, and as the seconds ticked by his strikes became weaker and weaker.

  Eventually, they stopped altogether.

  Annja held on for another second or two when Radecki slumped
across her, wanting to be sure he wasn’t faking it. She counted to ten and then released her hold, pushing his now-limp body off her own and wondering as she did so if she’d managed to kill him.

  As it turned out, she hadn’t. When she recovered enough to check his pulse, she was grateful to find one. It was thin and shaky, but it was there. Officer Radecki would live to stand trial after all—a fact that Annja found rather uplifting given the circumstances.

  She limped over to the discarded injector and picked it up, looking for some indication of what it might have contained. A label or something similar would have been very helpful, but the sleek gray case of the injection device was devoid of any markings. It didn’t even have a manufacturer’s label. She slipped it into her pocket anyway; maybe a lab test might reveal something later.

  If there was a later.

  Whatever Radecki had injected her with was starting to take effect. She could feel herself getting woozy, and her vision was starting to blur. She needed to get medical attention and she needed to do so quickly.

  The fact that she didn’t know what had been in the injector complicated things. Radecki could have been trying to kill her or he could have been trying to knock her out. Frankly, neither option was all that attractive.

  She limped back to Radecki’s unconscious form and knelt down to search him, coming away with a digital key card, a cell phone and a set of car keys for her trouble. She pocketed the key card and the keys, then swiped the screen on the phone with her thumb. To her surprise, it wasn’t locked. Even better, when the screen lit up she saw four green bars in the upper right corner, indicating a healthy signal.

  Annja stood up and moved away from Radecki’s unconscious form, not wanting to be too close to the man. She stared at the phone’s lit screen for a moment, debating, and then tried to dial a number from memory. The keypad seemed to shimmer and dance as the drug continued to make its way through her system, and it took her three tries to get it right.

  There was a moment of silence after the call was answered.

  “Nové Mesto policajné oddelenie,” a bored male voice finally said.

  “Detective Tamás, please.”

  “Just a moment,” the duty sergeant replied, then put her on hold. Calling Tamás was a calculated risk. Until recently, she’d thought he was directly responsible for the deaths of Havel Novack and Marta Vass, never mind being a willing participant in the cover-up of nearly two dozen additional murders. But after overhearing the discussion between Radecki and Stone, Novack’s true killers, she’d come to believe that she’d misjudged the police detective. Tamás likely still wanted to speak to her regarding the Novack house fire, so Annja was confident she could get him to make the trip out here.

  At least now she had proof those women hadn’t just disappeared. They’d been kidnapped. Annja reached into her pocket for the hard drive, only to find that the device was gone. Radecki had probably searched her for weapons after he’d knocked her out.

  The detective’s voice startled Annja out of her ruminations.

  “This is Tamás.”

  “Do you know who this is?” Annja asked, not wanting to give her name over the open line.

  Tamás was silent for a moment, and then said, “Yes.”

  A wave of dizziness washed over her, forcing Annja to wait until it passed. It was getting harder for her to pull her thoughts together, and she could feel her sense of the here and now slipping away. Her dizzy spell must have been stronger than she thought, for when she came back to herself she could hear Tamás speaking into her ear with concern.

  “Hello? Are you still there?”

  “I’m here,” she said as the room ballooned in front of her and then settled down again.

  She must have been hit with some kind of psychotropic.

  “Are you all right?” the detective asked.

  Annja quelled the urge to shake her head, and settled for pacing to keep herself focused, despite the pain in her leg. The last thing she wanted to do was collapse unconscious.

  “No, I’m not,” she told him. “In fact, I need your help, as do the several other injured women I just left behind. I found them, Tamás. Novack’s missing women. I found them and they need your help.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  Annja turned, intending to retrace her steps, and nearly screamed in surprise when she found a bloodied Radecki standing directly behind her.

  He lashed out with his left hand, knocking the cell phone from her grip, and then followed it up with a snap punch to her face.

  Normally Annja was quick enough to slip a punch like that, but whatever Radecki had jabbed her with was wreaking havoc with her reaction time as well as her senses. She tried to jerk her head to one side, a move that had helped her evade many a punch in the past, but this time she was too slow, and instead of sailing harmlessly past her face, Radecki’s fist slammed into her cheekbone.

  The pain was so overwhelming she saw stars, and in that moment she was helpless.

  Her heart was beating madly, no doubt sending whatever he’d injected her with pumping wildly around her circulatory system. Soon Radecki could stand back and watch her fall.

  If she was going to survive this, she needed to do something before she lost all her strength.

  Radecki picked up a piece of rope and advanced toward Annja. She covered her head with her arms and hunched over, hoping Radecki would think she’d given up. Annja couldn’t see much of anything in that position, but she could see his feet, which meant she knew where he was.

  When he got close, Annja shot her foot out without warning, delivering a near-textbook front snap kick to the man’s groin. Radecki doubled over, his hands cupping his groin. He was staring at her with hatred, his face red with pain.

  Radecki let out a bellow and charged toward her.

  Annja watched him come.

  She didn’t have the strength for another prolonged fight; the last one had left her battered, bruised and exhausted. She needed to end this decisively, here and now. If she didn’t stop him, she likely wouldn’t survive this next confrontation.

  She was only going to get one shot at this.

  She waited for Radecki to close the distance between them, waited for him to build up so much momentum there would be no chance of turning aside or stopping short, waited until he was almost atop her...

  Then she reached into the otherwhere, wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword and pulled it forth into this side of reality with a wordless shout of defiance as she thrust it forward.

  The blade entered his stomach just to the left of his navel and, cutting through everything in its way, came thrusting out his back as his own momentum carried him forward until the hilt of the weapon was pinched up against the front of his gut.

  For a moment, he hung there, impaled on her sword, staring at her. His eyes were filled with hatred and disbelief, then Radecki gurgled once and died, a thin stream of blood running out the side of his mouth.

  Annja released her sword back into the otherwhere and let his corpse drop to the floor at her feet.

  36

  It was all Annja could do to stand there a moment and catch her breath. Her head was pounding and her heart was beating wildly. One eye was so swollen she could barely see out of it, and she was pretty sure her cheekbone was fractured, if not broken outright. The difficulty she was having taking a deep breath told her Radecki had probably cracked a few of her ribs, as well.

  But at least she was alive.

  If only Tamás would get here quickly...

  Tamás!

  She spotted the cell phone fetched up against the far wall and stumbled over to it. Picking it up, she put it to her ear.

  “Detective?”

  Nothing.

  A glance told her why; both the case and the screen were cracked. The phone must have been damaged when Radecki swiped it out of her hand.

  Now what?

  She had two options, she supposed. Try to find help on her own
, or wait, hoping that Tamás had taken her call seriously and was on his way right now.

  She slumped against the nearest wall, trying to make up her mind, when the sensation of being watched alerted her to someone else’s presence.

  Annja glanced up, startled, and found Diane Stone standing in the doorway. Stone was dressed semicasually, wearing a white lab coat over jeans and a T-shirt.

  “A rather impressive display,” Stone said. “From conjuring the sword out of thin air right down to slaughtering Radecki with it. I must say I’m surprised.”

  The drug coursing through Annja’s system bent and distorted the words slightly, so it took her a moment to understand what Stone was saying. The predatory look in the woman’s eyes was clear.

  Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

  Having already been seen once, Annja didn’t hesitate. She slipped her hand into the otherwhere and drew her sword.

  “Stay back,” she said, brandishing the weapon before her. “I’m warning you.”

  Stone laughed. “Or what? You’ll cut me with that thing?” She marched forward until she stood about two feet in front of Annja. “Go ahead,” she said.

  Annja’s flesh crawled at Stone’s nearness, as if her body instinctively knew that the woman standing before her was, in part, unnatural. Annja felt the almost overwhelming urge to run, to get as far away from the woman in front of her as possible.

  Sensing her distress, Stone smiled a shark’s smile, full of hunger and teeth. “Cut me or I’ll take that blade from you and use it to cut your hand off.”

  Annja’s survival instinct flared. Before she knew it she’d flicked her wrist, slashing the very tip of the sword across Stone’s cheek. The near razor-sharp weapon opened a long gash in the woman’s smooth skin.

  That was going to leave a nasty scar, Annja thought with a sense of drugged detachment.

  Stone, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. She wiped at the blood with the back of one hand and said, “Is that all you’ve got?”