The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin)

by Carolyn McCray

  While Cat talked, Mala pulled at her bands. She had cut through at least part of the zip tie, and that should allow her to free her hands. But finding leverage was hard with her head pulled back the way it was.

  A slight shifting of her weight, and Mala found the position she needed. The zip tie snapped, and she threw her arms up to grab Cat’s face in her hands. With all her strength, she pulled her friend’s head sharply toward her, thrusting her forehead at the bridge of Cat’s nose.

  Mala felt the bone there shatter under the force of the blow, and Cat staggered back, blood gushing from her nostrils. Her cry of pain seemed to alert Jake to the situation, and all of the sudden, the computer expert was standing and pointing a gun at Mala’s head.

  Diving to the side, Mala heard the hammer click on an empty chamber. “What the--?” Jake said, looking at the gun as he pulled the trigger again and again.

  Her voice drifting up from where Mala had left her, Cat answered the unfinished question. “You didn’t really think I was going to let you have a working gun, did you?”

  Jake’s face hardened, and he slid open the gun, peering into its inner workings. His fingers were sure and skilled. This was clearly someone who was used to firearms.

  But Mala wasn’t waiting around until he figured out what was wrong with his weapon. Scrambling around the side of the desk, Mala tried to make her way toward the closest door.

  She was halfway through the door when she felt a hand grip her ankle. Glancing back, Cat’s bloody face confronted her.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, Mala.”

  “I’d like to see you stop me,” she grunted back, kicking out with her foot at Cat’s broken nose. Her one-time friend cried out as Mala’s boot connected with her face, but she didn’t release her hold.

  Then there was a flash of gunmetal black, and Jake struck Cat across the back of the head. Cat slumped down to the floor, her faux boyfriend standing above her.

  “No one messes with my gun,” he muttered, then pointed the gun at Mala. “Yes, it works now. Time to get up. We’re going to see the Master, and he’s going to--”

  His voice cut off in a groan as Cat lashed out with her fist, connecting with his groin. As he tipped over to the side, holding himself, Cat squirmed out from under him, snatching up his gun in the process.

  “No man is ever going to do that to me again,” she grated.

  She placed the gun against the man’s head and pulled the trigger. There was a deafening retort, and Jake’s body jerked. Once. Then she turned toward Mala, the weapon pointing straight at her head.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really so sorry.”

  There was nowhere for Mala to go. Nothing for her to do. All her options were exhausted at this point, and all she could do was stare down the barrel of the gun.

  Mala was going to die.

  CHAPTER 16

  “You see, Robi,” Darc heard the Master say as his minions stepped out of the darkness and foam that covered the edges of the room, “this was never going to end any other way.”

  It was true. Darc’s inner network of logic confirmed it. The plan had been set with an exquisite attention to detail.

  And now the trap began to close around him.

  “There really is nowhere for you to run,” rumbled the Master. “The first strike will come here. The wrath of God raining down on your head.”

  The pattern shifted a fraction of a millimeter, opening up more details to Darc’s view. The scope of the plan grew, and what had already been impressive became even more so.

  “The destruction of Seattle will be blamed on the government,” Darc said. “Either because of their lack of security, or possibly the accusation of a mole. You will become a martyr to the corruption of the American state.”

  “Well, not quite,” Merle corrected him. “A martyr is typically dead. But everything else, that’s accurate enough.”

  “A revolution,” Darc breathed, beginning to see the possible culmination of the Master’s plan. “A chain reaction that could take down our entire form of government.”

  “So you see why it’s important I not be here when it begins,” the Captain explained as he began to move toward the exit. “Although I would like to have you where I can see you for as long as possible.”

  He waved a hand motioning his acolytes forward, cutting Darc off. The encompassing forces moved farther into the room, the noose tightening. The path to the doorway, cut off. His friends, captured or fighting a losing battle.

  No physical options remained to lead him toward Merle’s capture. The network inside of Darc churned and spun, seeking out a solution. But none seemed to remain.

  There was no way to make it past them to the Captain. A quick calculation showed that there were too many of them for Darc to shoot, even if his aim did not falter for a moment.

  A thought germinated inside of him. Something unexpected and uncharacteristic on every level.

  Hands gripped Darc on every side, his gun stripped from him and his hands bound. Every instinct inside of him screamed for him to fight, to struggle to the last, to refuse to accept this outcome. Instead, he submitted, as the Master’s disciples forced him along behind the man himself.

  Witness to the realization of the plan that had been set in motion with Father John.

  * * *

  Mala’s eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out the reality of what was about to happen. The gunshot echoed through the room, assaulting Mala’s ears. But somehow she could not feel the impact.

  Was she dead?

  Opening her eyes, Mala saw something that could not register, at first. Cat stood before her, face contorted, hand bleeding profusely.

  No gun.

  Mala glanced down at the floor. The weapon had fallen and slid underneath a desk, and it appeared that Cat couldn’t see it from her vantage point.

  But what had just happened here?

  A flicker of movement caught her eye from the corner of the room. Trey and Janey stood there, Trey’s gun still leveled at Cat’s… hand?

  Why hadn’t he gone for the kill shot?

  Those thoughts flashed through Mala’s mind in less than a second, but it was long enough for Cat to realize what had happened. She reared back her head and launched herself at Mala, the mirror image of Mala’s earlier move.

  Mala was ready. She shifted her weight to the right to keep Cat’s blow from landing. But Cat’s reflexes were sharp, and she adjusted mid strike. Her forehead connected with Mala’s clavicle with crushing speed.

  The bone there cracked from the impact, the sound of the break accompanied with a sick pain that blossomed from the source, incapacitating Mala’s arm. Fighting the agony, Mala lashed out with a fist, connecting with Cat’s side.

  But the blow was cushioned by some sort of padding Mala found there. What the hell was that?

  Then she realized why Trey hadn’t aimed for the torso. Cat was protected by a bulletproof vest.

  That still didn’t explain why he hadn’t aimed for the head.

  Those thoughts were driven out of Mala’s skull by Cat’s fist punching at the break in Mala’s collarbone. The pain radiated through her entire body, and for a moment Mala was sure she was going to pass out.

  Then Cat whipped around behind her, an arm held to her throat.

  “Stop,” she called out to Trey, who was rushing toward them both. “You move, I snap her neck.” Trey struggled to stop, taking another step forward, and Cat’s grip intensified. “I will do it.”

  “I know,” Trey answered, dropping his gun and backing up. “Please don’t.”

  Mala tried to think through her pain, but every time she started to formulate a plan, Cat would shift, pressing her hand against the break in Mala’s clavicle. The pain was excruciating.

  “Just stay there,” Cat ordered, then muttered under her breath. “Only a little while longer.” Her tone seemed to be a mixture of relief and sadness.

  What was coming?

  * * *

&nb
sp; Darc found himself force-marched up the stairs, his motions confined on every side by his assailants. They had bound his hands behind him, and while Darc was confident that he could make his way out of the bindings in time, time was one commodity he did not seem to possess.

  The door opened up on an overcast, grey sky. They were stepping out onto the graveled surface of the roof of the precinct building.

  The streams of logic processed, taking all of the information in, even as the underpinnings of the system pulsed in their opposing spectrums of light and dark. Something percolated there, but what it was, Darc could not identify.

  “Death is coming, Darc,” the Captain grumbled in his bass voice. “It’s coming soon, and it’s coming for you. Well, you and the rest of the city.”

  The big man stepped close to the nearest wall, looking up into the grey sky. Then he turned and faced Darc once more.

  “I brought you up here for a reason, Darc. I want you to see it all as it happens.” Merle stared down at the city that spread out before them. “This city beat me down, Robi. I held out for so long. But this city broke me.”

  Darc looked around at the rooftop and the men and women gathered around. All faced the Captain, their expressions rapt. It was like there was some kind of dark bond that connected them all to the Master.

  There was that part of Darc that connected with the feeling. Strings inside him that resonated in harmony with the despair and rage that burned within the man.

  “I know what you think of me, Darcmel. Darc. The Darc Knight,” the Captain said, a wry smile playing over his lips for a moment. “But you don’t see the full picture. The scope of the rot that is Seattle.”

  Merle paced back and forth next to the wall. Darc studied his movements, the information processed within him by the bands of colored light.

  Why that wall? Why there and not somewhere else? What were they doing here on the roof if drones were coming to deliver their missiles here?

  “Did you know that I was married once?” Merle asked, turning for a moment so that Darc could see his face. “A beautiful woman, my Alice. Kind. Gentle.”

  Then, off in the distance, Darc heard it. The whoomp, whoomp, whoomp of blades slicing through the sky.

  Captain Merle intended to escape via helicopter.

  “He was just an ordinary run-of-the-mill sex offender,” the Master said, his voice strange and distant as he spoke. “Put him away for ten years, and he wanted to make me pay. So he took out all his rage on her.”

  Darc watched as heads nodded around him. This was the tale that had converted so many. The one that had resonated with law enforcement officials throughout the city.

  The Master’s network.

  Merle’s eyes were flat, reflectionless in the grey light. Even with his newfound emotional sensitivities, Darc could not penetrate the barrier there.

  “She had to be identified by her dental records,” Merle finished, then pushed himself away from the railing around the edge of the rooftop. “But she will be avenged soon enough.”

  The thumping sound of the approaching aircraft increased. Some of the Master’s acolytes grew restless, listening to the noise as it grew louder and louder.

  The end was coming.

  And Darc was helpless to stop it.

  * * *

  There had to be some way for Mala to convince Cat to end this. Mala knew her so well. And while clearly there was a lot on which her friend had held out, Mala knew enough of human nature to understand that it couldn’t have all been a lie.

  “Cat, please,” Mala choked out. “Don’t do this. Think about Jessalyn.”

  “Oh, Mala,” Cat said with a mixture of what sound like a laugh and a sob. “I’m doing this for her.” But no matter her words, Cat’s arm slackened a bit on Mala’s neck, giving her more room to speak.

  “You can’t convince me that she would be better off without her mom,” Mala said, trying to keep her tone calm and soothing. A therapist’s tone. “Because I’m guessing that’s how this is going to end, one way or the other.”

  Another sob-laugh. “You got that much right,” she said, but then her grip intensified again. “And it’s exactly what has to happen. Fire raining down from the heavens to punish the wicked.”

  “Wicked?” Mala forced out past the constriction against her throat. “Wicked like Jessalyn? Like Janey? Darc, Trey… me?”

  Cat shook her head, her motion causing her short hair to tickle Mala’s neck. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t.”

  The tone she was using was one Mala knew from countless sessions. Cat was unsure of herself. Unsure of the cause with which she’d become aligned.

  “Try me,” Mala said.

  “My ex…” she choked out, “the things he did… Jessalyn will never be subjected to that. I won’t allow it.”

  Cat’s arm tightened against Mala’s throat even further. Just like that, Cat’s resolve had been strengthened. She really was doing this for her daughter.

  “Come on, Cat,” Trey encouraged her. “Let Mala go. She’s like the best person I know.”

  “I know that,” confessed Cat. “Why do you think the Master wanted her taken care of? Darc is brilliant, but emotionally blind. Trey is… well… Trey.”

  “Hey!” Trey complained.

  But Mala knew what Cat meant. Not in an arrogant way, but in a deeper sense. The Master had been worried about her since she came on the scene. That’s why Father John had wanted to take her. Why Van Owen had come after her. Why the plans always seemed to involve her.

  But why? Mala didn’t have the answer yet, but having the answer might be the key to everything. Wracking her brain, Mala tried to sort it out. Why?

  Another question intruded. One that had been building up for a while.

  Where was Janey?

  CHAPTER 17

  The Master was going to win. Darc had studied the problem from all physical angles. The amount of time that was left, the strength of Darc’s bonds, even the fact that the threat to the city could not be eliminated from here.

  Every eventuality seemed to have been covered.

  And yet…

  One avenue appeared. A gateway formed by the interplay of silver and non-light within him. The support system that had been born out of his love for Janey and Mala and his despair at losing them. Love and light offset by fear and darkness. The one a mirror reflection of the other. Inseparable.

  And all of it unknown to the Master.

  The men and women surrounding him moved in closer, almost as if they sensed a change happening. The group moved as one encasing him in a cage made of human flesh. Skin and bone and sinew and muscle.

  And minds.

  These were all disciples of the Master.

  Darc could trace the black ties that bound them to Captain Merle. Like Darc’s inner network, but stretching out, binding them together in one ideology.

  And the black supports inside of Darc understood the driving forces behind the rage that had driven them to these actions. Their fear and their pain and their shame.

  Understood them… and could manipulate them.

  So, instead of attempting to engage with Merle or free himself from his bindings, Darc turned his attention toward the acolytes. The disciples of this man who called himself the Master.

  “He is correct,” Darc began, speaking to the group gathered around him. “The world is broken, and it needs to be fixed.”

  Darc saw out of the corner of his eye that the Captain had perked up. Merle was now paying far more attention to Darc than he had a moment ago. And the expression on his face seemed to be one of shock.

  This was why the Master had feared Mala. Because she was smart enough… and emotionally astute enough… to cause his plan to unravel. The information processed through Darc’s web of color, shored up by the black and white pillars.

  It was a near certainty that not all of the men and women gathered here knew of their own imminent death. The likelihood that Merle had managed to recruit this m
any suicidal fanatics was slim, but real.

  But Darc knew Captain Merle. And he was not a man who took unnecessary risks.

  Those in the inner circle would know, because it would be impossible to keep it from them. But the rest…?

  This was the chink in the Master’s armor. The one he had sought to mend by killing Mala.

  But he had no idea of Darc’s newfound skill.

  “And he has told you,” Darc continued, “that the sacrifice you make here today will be a noble one, correct? One that will be remembered.”

  Several heads nodded at that, but on others all that registered was confusion. The information processed itself rapidly through Darc’s inner logic grid.

  The Chief’s mouth worked, causing him to look like a fish kept out of water. For a moment, he seemed incapable of speech. And Darc intended to use that moment fully.

  “The Master will leave you to die,” he said, using the interplay of the silver and black to examine the responses around him. “Some of you he has told. Others, not. But why should he be allowed to live, leaving the faithful behind?”

  The men and women whose expressions had not changed when Darc mentioned them being left to die began eyeing the others with what appeared to be trepidation. But Darc needed the entire group on board.

  Captain Merle had other plans. “Pay no attention to this man,” he cried out. “He is a part of the corruption of the city. He only seeks to sow confusion in our ranks.”

  But one of the men, a police officer who Darc recognized as Thompson, spoke up at that. “You said he was a good man. Just misguided.”

  The seed had been planted. The dark strands began to fray.

  Darc knew what he needed to do.

  * * *

  Janey gripped Popeye by the arm, trying to get him to stop his chattering. It was like all of a sudden, he’d just decided to take all of his fear and throw it up all over her.

  The whole situation was pretty annoying.

  It wasn’t like Janey wasn’t afraid. There was a computer that had a clock counting down, and she was pretty sure that when it got to zero, they would all die.