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Authors: Matt Abraham

BOOK: Dane Curse
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“That’s ok Robert, what is it?”

“The Japanese liaison is waiting on the comm. What should I tell him?”

“Excuse me Dane, I must take this.”

He left me alone, and I walked to the window to gaze out across the city. I could’ve stood there for days, but Lynchpin returned in less time than that. “Sorry Dane, I’m afraid I must end our discussion. Let me show you out.” He led me to the office’s front door. “You’re off to a good start, but I want you to move faster. Uncertainty can be very damaging to organizations like mine, especially now. I want this affair settled before-”

“I know,” I said, “before war breaks out in Gold Coast.”

“Gold Coast?” Lynchpin stopped, and turned to me. “You think this is a Gold Coast problem?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Oh no, this is much larger. In fact, when Pinnacle’s body is discovered every major city in the world will be under siege by white capes. This war you so casually mention, it will start here, but it won’t be contained.”

That was something I hadn’t considered. Black capes and white, fighting each other across the planet. “It’ll be genocide.”

Lynchpin put a hand on my shoulder. “Not as bad as all that. Massacre would be a better term. The Sindicate will fare better than most, but the other black cape families of the world, they may try to give as good as they get, but in the end …”

I stood there thinking about how many capes would die. How many regs? A hundred thousand? A million? Ten million? 
No wonder the bonus was so big.

“We’ll finish this tomorrow. You’ll come by my home at eight pm to make your next report. I’m having a party and believe that some in attendance know more about this business than they’ve so far admitted. I’d like you to see what you can see.”

“Sure thing.” I opened the door and headed to the elevator.

“And Dane, I don’t know how you plan to question Director Humphries about his letter, or how you’ll discover who wrote that death threat, but I expect both to be done when next we meet.”

I reached into my pocket. The papers were still there. I opened my mouth to object, but Lynchpin had already closed the door.

 

 

 

Chapter 17

Since I was forced to leave Jane outside of Henchmen’s Lynchpin was good enough to send me home in one of his cars, along with the promise that she would be delivered the next day after the damage his men did was undone. When I got back I called Widow to see if I had any messages.

“Where have you been?”

“I was having a drink with Lynchpin,” I said.

“Ha ha. Seriously, where were you?”

“With Lynchpin. We talked family, business… Nice guy. Taller than you think.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me. But if you carried a cell phone it would save my fingernails a lot of biting.”

“Got a comms in the car and a phone in the house. That’s enough.”

Widow took a couple of deep breaths. “Dane, is everything ok?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing. Just a feeling. You usually tell me everything, but now I’m cooling my heels in the shade, and I know you got your reasons, but if you were inclined to act the gentleman and alleviate said concern all you’d have to say is ‘Sure Widow, I’m in it, but it’s not over my head.’  That would be enough. Say that and I’ll believe you.”

“Sure thing,” I said, “I’m in it, but it’s not over my head.”

“I don’t believe you. Now go eat something.” She hung up the phone.

That was good advice, so I went to the kitchen, fried up a steak with some eggs, and washed it all down with a couple of beers. It was a big meal, but it wasn’t the reason I was feeling so heavy. One full day down and I was still closer to disaster than an answer.

It wasn’t a comfortable thought to sleep on.

#

The next morning I was up before the sun, and the first thing I did was put on a pot of coffee. Then I shaved, showered, and threw on a black suit so fast I was ready before it was done brewing. And since one of the benefits of being invulnerable is that your mouth doesn’t scald so easy, I pounded every drop of java before it cooled a single degree, and ran out the door.

I found Jane waiting for me right outside my stoop, and as promised Lynchpin’s boys had given her a wash, a wax, and buffed out the dent I made with Bruizer’s body. I hopped in and took my jacket off, careful not to crease it, then placed it on the passenger’s seat. I was about to put the key into the ignition, but stopped. It occurred to me that Lynchpin knew a lot about my movements yesterday, and since I didn’t see a tail it meant he had to be using technology.

I pulled my hand scanner out and set it to look for any waves emanating from Jane, and sure enough there were three bugs letting out a silent scream. One was in the glove box, another under my seat, and the last sat behind the back bumper. I plucked each one off, and tossed them in a nearby trashcan, then got back in and hit the ignition. Jane started purring like a lion cub with a belly full of zebra, sounding more excited than I was to go kidnap Marc Humphries, the head of the SPECs. That was probably because if we got caught she wouldn’t be the one spending the next decade eating powdered eggs and showering in groups.

The director lived in the Foothills, a nice area on the south side of town with sprawling, perfectly coifed lawns, and high stone fences. It’s quiet and very beautiful, but the best part? There’s only one road that connects it to the city proper, and I was parked right on it, waiting for the black sedan with SPEC plates that picks Humphries up every morning. My plan was to take its place, snatch the director, and ask him some questions.

Stopping the car was simple enough. I just stepped out in front of it, and threw my shoulder into the grill. Its front crumpled around my body. The impact shoved me back a few feet. And when we came to a stop I was standing where its engine used to be. Quick as I could I pushed the car behind some high bushes on the side of the road, and checked on the driver. He was unconscious, but alive, thanks to the air bags, so I tossed him in the trunk sans hat, shades, and wallet, then poked a few breathing holes through the metal to keep him fresh.

I slipped on my black jacket, along with the driver’s accessories, and caught my reflection in the window. Staring back was the spitting image of a chauffeur. I hopped into Jane, flipped a few switches on the dash, and her exterior shifted around until she looked so much like the black sedan I just pulverized that even the factory couldn’t tell them apart. She even had the same plates.

Then I headed to Humphries’ house.

The guard outside waved me through the gate without a second look. I pulled up to the entrance, hopped out, and took my place next to the rear door, ramrod straight. Almost immediately a voice called out, “Director Humphries, your car has arrived.” I looked up to see a young man motioning toward me. I put on a big grin.

“I can see that Jonstone.” Marc Humphries came out of his house at full speed. He was wearing a black suit with a pair of perfectly polished shoes, and his white hair was high and tight. On the news he always looked like an owl, but the way he took those stairs was more akin to a hawk. “You’re late,” he said as he leapt into the car.

Young Jonstone, trailing a step behind, handed me a briefcase without a word before returning to the house. I closed the rear door, and brought it up front with me.

And that was that.

“Let’s go,” Humphries said.

“Right away, sir.” I pulled onto the main road, and made my way back to the city a hair under the speed limit. After a few minutes I stole a quick glance at the old man through the rearview mirror. He was staring out the window, nibbling at his thumb. The facial expressions I saw made it look like he was running a vigorous game of chess in his head.

After a few seconds he noticed my staring. Then he passed his gaze around the car before returning it to me. “Who are you?”

“I’m Bob, sir.”

“Bob who?”

“Kane.”

“Bob Kane?”

“That’s right.”

His eyes narrowed. “Where’s Filo?”

“Filo, sir?” I slipped the driver’s wallet out, and gave the ID a downward glance. The name on it was Jeff Long. “Who’s that?”

The old man said, “My regular driver.”

“Don’t know a Filo, sir. Central mentioned that Jeff was sick with the flu, and that I was to fill in. Though if you like, I can contact them regarding Filo.”

“The flu?”

“Yes sir,” I said, “I hear it’s spreading through the schools.”

“How come nobody told me?”

“About the flu, sir?” I asked.

“No, about you.”

“What about me, sir?”

“Jesus,” he said. “About you taking over for Jeff.”

“I don’t ask questions sir, I do what I’m told.” I kept looking at the old man. The distrust on his face was closer than it appeared.

Humphries pulled out his phone, and started to dial. “Good.”

No, not good, bad, very bad.

There was no way I was letting him check on my story. We’d be neck deep in silver clad lawmen before cresting the next hill. I pulled to the side of the road, near a particularly treacherous drop, and jammed on the brakes.

He stopped dialing and looked up. “What’re you doing?”

I put my arm over the seat, and turned around with Rico in hand. “Drop it.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah, you’re someone who doesn’t ruffle easy. Now, do you know what this is?” I motioned toward my piece. “It’s the thing that’s going to punch a hole through your chest if you don’t drop the phone.”

He did what I asked, but slower than I wanted.

“Good,” I said. “Now I need to ask you a few questions. If you answer them then everything will be fine, and I’ll drive you to work as requested. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?”

“Otherwise I’ll make you answer. Now I don’t want to do that, but I’m the kind of guy who does a lot of things he doesn’t want to do. And since time is a factor, let’s get started. Where’s Pinnacle?”

Humphries sat there glaring at me. I had to remember that this was the head of a paramilitary force of men who, despite having no special abilities themselves, dealt directly with the most dangerous powered criminals in the world. No surprise he was a tough nut.

“You having tongue trouble?” I said. “Where’s our boy? What’s happened to Big Red?”

A smirk joined the glare. “You have no idea how much trouble you’re in. You must be the dumbest black cape this side of the Pacific. When my team hears about this there won’t be a place you can hide.”

“Hey, if you’re going to beat your gums then why not answer the question?”

“You want an answer?” He crossed his arms. “Go to hell.”

“I need to know where Pinnacle is,” I said.

He looked out the window. “Go to hell.”

“You think I’m messing around here? Where. Is. Pinnacle?”

He turned back to me. “Go. To. Hell.”

I didn’t have time for this. I couldn’t say for certain, but Humphries seemed the type to keep a schedule so rigid that alarm bells would ring if he was more than five minutes late. And like I said, there’s only one road into town.

“Always the hard way.” I reached back, grabbed a handful of his collar, and dragged him over the seat like a gym bag. Then I stepped out, shot a quick glance both ways to make sure there were no cars coming, and crossed the street with the director in tow. I holstered Rico, and with one hand dangled Humphries over the edge. He looked down. It was easily over a hundred-foot drop with nothing but jagged rocks between the ocean and us.

All he did was whistle and nod. “Good choice, son.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Now start yapping before my hand gives.”

The wind was kicking up, so he had to yell. “I won’t tell you squat, you’ll have to drop me.”

“I will, pops. I don’t got all day.”

He looked down, and took a deep breath. Then he turned back to me, and the bastard actually put his hands in his pockets. “Then let go and be done with it.”

I dropped my weight, lowered him slightly, and threw Humphries into the air. He got ten feet of lift, which was high enough for the wind to push him an inch or two out to sea. I had to lean out to catch him, barely getting my hand around his collar, and ripping his shirt in the process.

He yelped, and again I asked, “Where’s Pinnacle?”

He was talking now, faster than before. “Who are you, why do you care?”

“I ask, you answer. Where’s Big Red?”

There was anger in his eyes. “He’s away on a mission.”

“Liar.”

“He told us he’d be back in a few days.”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not.”

I didn’t like what I was hearing, so I tossed him a second time.

When I caught him the fabric ripped more, and a few buttons popped off his collar. “Last chance, where is he?”

Humphries was talking even faster now. Sweat formed on his brow and upper lip. “Alrightalrightalright, I don’t know… we were supposed to meet a few days ago but he never showed.”

“Keep going.”

The threads holding his jacket seams began to pop. Humphries locked on to my arm. “That’s it, that’s all, I haven’t seen him since last week.”

“Bull,” I said, “you know something piggy, now squeal.”

“I don’t know anything more, I swear.”

It was only a matter of seconds before some motorist stumbled on us, so I put some bite in my voice to go along with the bark. “I don’t believe you. You’ve been lying. He’s missing. Now we both know that nobody’s strong enough to hurt him, and nullifiers don’t work, so the only thing that could’ve happened is one of your chumps collared him.”

“What?” Humphries eyes were the size of saucers. “We were close friends, who told you that?”

I pulled out the letter I found at Waller’s, and shoved it in his face. “This told me. You want to become a federal department. Not a bad position, huh? Having a SPEC force for every city in the country would make you a powerful man. Richer, too. But Pinnacle wasn’t on board, and without his support you had no chance. I guess he didn’t see the value in giving you control of your own private army fully sanctioned by Washington. So you asked him nice, and you asked him hard, but no matter which way you asked the answer was no.

“So you scheduled a sit down, and when his back was turned you tossed a collar on him. It was just as a lesson, right? You didn’t mean to hurt him. You just wanted to show him who really runs Gold Coast. Only maybe Pinnacle didn’t like the feel of metal on his neck. Did he fight back? Was it an accident? What happened, tell me!”

I tossed the old man as I high as I dared. It took a good couple of seconds for him to come down, and again I caught him by his shirt. But this time he barely slowed down.

This time all I had was a handful of cotton.

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