Cradle and All

by Rebecca York

  he'd been suckered.

  She'd done it.

  Thank the Lord, she'd done it.

  As she looked around the chamber wondering what to do next, a door in

  the wall opened and Steve came through, his face a grim mask as he

  advanced toward the bed.

  Wu stared at him.

  Fear flickered in his eyes, but only for a second.

  "Ah, you do have a surprise for me," he murmured, looking from Steve to

  Abby.

  "Madame Pearl said you were inventive."

  "Yeah, very inventive," Steve grated, still advancing.

  Wu tried to draw away from the intruder's acid voice and harsh

  features.

  Before Steve reached him, something heavy crashed against the wall on

  the other side of the room.

  Abby whirled just in time to see a second hidden door burst inward.

  Then a tall, solidly built man careered into the room, shouting

  urgently in Chinese.

  Abby couldn't understand the words, but she recognized the warning

  tone.

  A bodyguard?

  But Madame Pearl had saidWu's expression changed from fear to anger.

  Pulling at the cuffs, he tried and failed to free his hands.

  However, his legs were entirely free, and he was still wearing his

  shoes.

  Drawing up his knees, he gave a powerful kick, his feet colliding

  squarely with the wall of Steve's stomach.

  Abby heard the air whoosh out of her husband's chest as he doubled over

  in pain.

  In the next second, the bigger man was on him, landing a blow to his

  jaw that sounded as if it had broken teeth.

  A second followed.

  Acting purely on instinct, Abby snatched a larger whip from the wall

  and brought it down with'all her strength against the bodyguard's

  neck.

  He cried out at the totally unexpected pain, twisting of the attack.

  toward the source Abby still couldn't understand what he was saying,

  but she knew he was cursing at her as he lunged forward.

  Raising her arm, she snapped the leather coil down again in another

  stingingswipe, this time catching the side of his face and leaving a

  six-inch red welt.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Wu twisting wildly on the bed,

  struggling to free his hands, but thankfully the cuffs held.

  With a groan, Steve pushed himself to his feet and stood, swaying and

  trying to catch his breath.

  As he saw the big man charge toward his wife, he gathered himself and

  sprang forward.

  He reached the assailant just before his fingers connected with Abby's

  neck.

  Pulling the intruder back, Steve -hooked his hand under his chin and

  slammed him against the wall.

  The collision would have put a lesser opponent out of commission.

  This man was apparently made of tempered steel.

  Staggering up, he rounded on Steve, with the desperation of a fighter

  who knows he has to win in the next few moments.

  Knowing Steve was already hurt, Abby cast her gaze frantically around

  the room.

  A heavy metal chain hung at the end of the wall.

  Yanking it free, she swung it over her head, and flung it toward the

  guard's skull.

  It hit with a sickening crack, and he went down like a sack of rocks

  tossed off the side of a bridge.

  Steve collapsed, panting loudly.

  Abby scurried to the wall rack.

  Snatching down another pair of handcuffs, she secured the intruder to

  an iron ring at the bottom of the wall.

  Then, with a rope and some skills she hadn't utilized since Girl Scout

  camp, she hog-tied his legs.

  It wasn't an elegant job, but it would hold him.

  The whole time, Wu was bellowing at her from the bed.

  Abby tuned him out as she tugged on the bodyguard's bonds to test their

  stoutness.

  Satisfied that he wasn't going to get loose and slaughter them both,

  she rushed to Steve.

  He'd propped himself into a sitting position and was leaning back

  against the wall, staring at her.

  Following the direction of his gaze, she discovered that in the fracas,

  the front of her blouse had ripped and she was in danger of giving Mr.

  Wu the kind of view he'd requested.

  Quickly she pulled the shirttails from her waistband and tied them

  securely under her breasts.

  Then she sank to the floor beside Steve.

  "Are you all right?" she questioned softly.

  "More or less."

  He worked his jaw experimentally.

  "I came in here to save you from a fate worse than death, but I think

  you kept that guy from pounding me into dog meat."

  Abby pressed close to him, and his arms circled her back.

  His head drooped to her shoulder.

  "I was frightened," she whispered.

  His grip on her body tightened.

  "So was I. For you.

  But I think you can take care Of Yourself better than I realized.

  I just grabbed the first thing that came to hand.

  It tumec out to be a whip.

  "I guess we're damn lucky Wu doesn't have a feather pillow fetish."

  Abby's lips quirked.

  "Yeah."

  Just then, a flash of gh movement can t the corner of her eye, and she

  swung around, her body braced for another attack.

  But it was only Madame Pearl, standing on the other side of the ruined

  door, where Wu couldn't see her.

  She beckoned urgently.

  Pushing herself up, Abby made a wide circle around the bed.

  The moment she gained the adjoining room, she turned accusingly to the

  older woman.

  "You said Wu didn't bring a bodyguard when he came here."

  Madame Pearl craned her neck toward the man on the floor.

  "Another one of , MY customers vouched for him -Hung @, he calls

  himself -so I didn't know he had anything to do with Mr. Wu. Now I

  realize he's always been here at the same time Wu visits." She

  sighed." There's never been anytrouble before, so I wasn't aware he

  was on guard duty.

  Madame Pearl peered at Steve, who had gotten up and gone to inspect the

  intruder's bonds.

  "When your husband followed Wu out of the room, Lee followed him, only

  I didn't realize what was happening because I was talking to one of my

  other customers. He wasn't accompanied by any Of my girls, so I came

  up here."

  The madame gave Abby a long look.

  "You know, I'm wondering why I agreed to this crazy scheme of yours.

  I have half a mind to call this whole thing off.

  "It's too late for that. The damage is already done."

  "I know."

  She gestured toward Lee.

  "Move him over here so,my guards can take him away before he wakes.

  And then get about your business. I want you out of my house as soon

  as possible."

  "Thank you for your tolerance," Abby forced out.

  Then she hurried back into the Red Room to confer with Steve.

  As Steve closed the hidden door through which Lee had entered, the arms

  dealer raised his head slightly.

  Abby marveled at his composure.

  He looked remarkably calm for a man who was shackled to a brass

  headboard and facing two dangerous assailants.

  "We've met
, haven't we?" he said to Steve.

  "Several years ago. I'll save you the trouble of showing my picture

  around town. I'm Steve Claihome," he replied, as if they were getting

  acquainted again at a private box at the races.

  "I used to run an air freight business with Oliver Gibbs."

  Wu gave no sign that the names meant, anything to him, but the

  calculating look on his face told Abby that he was sizing up her

  husband.

  His next words were amazingly pragmatic.

  "I'm not going to plead for mercy. Tell me what you want, and I will

  supply it. If it's money, you're in luck. I have a great deal of it,

  as you doubtless know."

  Steve seemed in no hurry to accept the conversational gambit.

  Drawing up a chair near the headboard, he sat down, stretched out his

  le s, and crossed them at the ankles.

  Quietly Abby stepped out of Wu's line of sight.

  The man had already lost enough face in this transaction.

  Interrogation by a woman would only add insult to injury.

  Steve gave her a half nod as if he'd already come to the same

  conclusion.

  Then he turned his full attention back to the man on the bed.

  "You can keep your money. All we want is information."

  "What if I can't supply it?"

  "Oh, I think you can."

  He let the observation hang in the air for several moments.

  "We want to know what Amarjit Singh bought from you."

  Wu pushed himself up on the bed, so that his arms were at a slightly

  more comfortable angle.

  "Are you working for Singh? Or are you with the CIA?"

  "Neither. And since you're not going to acknowledge the connection on

  your own, I'd better mention we know Oliver Gibbs was supposed to

  deliver your cargo to Singh."

  "Then why don't you ask Gibbs the details? Or has he already told you

  what's going on? Are you here to negotiate for him? If you are, maybe

  you don't know the whole story. Get him to explain why he disappeared

  with the cargo," Wu shot back.

  "Or can't you find him, either?

  Steve turned and exchanged a quick glance with Abby.

  Now they knew for sure that Wu hadn't taken the cargo back.

  At least, if he wasn't lying.

  "Oh, we found him, all right. But we're not going to be talking to him

  unless it's at a seance, which isn't a very reliable form of

  communication, I'm afraid."

  "He's dead?"

  From the sidelines, Abby studied the expression on Wu's face.

  For just a moment, she saw a flicker of alarm.

  Then it vanished.

  Was he afraid of what she and Steve might do to him?

  Maybe.

  But that wasn't why he'd just cringed.

  The two men were still talking.

  Abby came forward and touched Steve's arm.

  When he turned to look at her questioningly, she drew him away.

  "I got, a surprise ready for Wu this afternoon."

  Quickly she explained her plan and picked up the small metal box she'd

  prepared after her session in the beauty parlor.

  Inside was a glass vial of peroxide.

  It was cocooned in several plastic bags.

  "I've brought what you asked for from the safe," she said to Steve,

  pitching her voice so Wu could hear her.

  'Good.

  ' Taking the closed container, he turned back to the arms dealer, who

  was watching them impassively.

  "As we told you, we don't know what Oliver Gibbs was supposed to be

  transporting to the ILA," Steve said.

  "But we did take the liberty of bringing some of the substance with

  us."

  As he spoke, he held up the little metal chest.

  Wu's gaze focused on the box, and Abby saw his skin pale.

  "Whatever's in here killed Oliver, didn't it?"

  Steve asked.

  Wu shrugged.

  "I don't know what killed him."

  "I think you do."

  Steve thrust the closed container toward the man on the bed.

  "What is it?"

  "You're bluffing. There's nothing in there," Wu tossed back.

  "You wouldn't take a chance like that."

  He was obviously making a tremendous effort to maintain his

  composure.

  "Maybe I was too stupid to know better. So why don't you tell me

  what's in Pandora's box."

  Steve opened the chest and took out the small, plasticwrapped vial.

  Wu's eyes grew round and his body stiffened as Steve began to unseal

  the outer bag.

  When he took out the glass vial, the pungent odor of peroxide filled

  the room.

  The arms dealer uttered an exclamation in Chinese that Abby couldn't

  understand.

  But there was no mistaking the edge of horror in his voice as he tried

  to scramble toward the other side of the bed.

  The handcuffs kept him from moving very far.

  As Steve began to pull at the stopper, the biting smell of peroxide

  grew stronger.

  Even though she knew what it was, Abby recoiled.

  But her reaction was nothing compared to Wu's.

  A fine sheen Of perspiration broke out on his forehead and chest.

  "If you don't talk, I'm going to pour it right over your heart," Steve

  said in a steely voice.

  Wu finally broke.

  With a scream, he lunged as far away as the cuffs would allow.

  "No!" he shrieked.

  "Close it up. Get it away from me. Get it out of here."

  Steve's fingers paused.

  ")" at is it?

  "Poison! It's poison," their captive gasped.

  "Get it out of here."

  "Poison? What kind of poison?"

  "Get it out of here," Wu repeated, "before it" late.

  For all ofus.

  "s too "What kind of poison?"

  Steve persisted.

  "Russian. From a chemical weapons plant. Wrap it back up. Get it out

  of the house, I beg you." Steve pressed the stopper firmly back into

  the little vial. Then he slipped the plastic bags into place once

  more. Wu's eyes never left him as he put the vial back in the box.

  Abby stepped forward.

  "Does it have a name?@' " Nothing you'd recognize.

  " " Try us.

  "Omega.

  Omega.

  The final letter of the Greek alphabet.

  A word that had come to symbolize the end.

  Involuntarily, Abby shuddered and looked at Steve.

  He pulled her toward the corner of the room and handed her the box.

  "Never heard of it. But it's a good bet the CIA has."

  Get it out of here," Wu pleaded from the bed once more." It's

  dangerous to be in the same room with it.

  "Or the same plane. Like Oliver," Abby bit out, her hands tightening

  on the little chest.

  "It was supposed to be properly packaged," Wu insisted.

  "I don't know what went wrong."

  "And if it wasn't wrapped up nice and tight, would it now be

  contaminating the whole area around where it's stored? Would the

  plants and animals be dead?"

  Abby asked, her voice low and grating.

  Wu swallowed convulsively and began to babble 'm Chinese.

  Steve grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

  "Don't fall apart yet. You're going to tell us everything you know

  about Omega, or we're going to smear the stuff on your skin like suntan
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  lotion."