Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love (35 page)

Jarvis stood, looking at Maddi impassively as
he ranted. When he finished, she smiled sweetly and said, "You're a
little feisty, aren't you? I'd be careful if I was you, though. If
you're not in any condition to toilet yourself, you're certainly in
no condition to put up much of a fight. You might want to think
about that and keep your opinions to yourself. If I'm right, your
boyfriend and his bulldog barrister have figured out that the cock
I sent them isn't yours. Don't make me change my mind and send them
the real thing."

Maddi opened his mouth to reply but stopped
when he saw the mini in her right hand. He closed his eyes, fully
expecting to be shot again. Instead, he heard Jarvis issue a
command to the HC to purify the air. "It'll help," she said as the
unit's vents hissed. "I am getting tired of looking at Mr. Ridgely,
too. Tell you what, buttercup, I'll drag his ass into the closet
and get you some things to clean yourself. If you can lift
yourself, I'll even pull the filthy sheet off the bed. But you
better damn well be nice and keep that pretty little mouth shut,
okay? If you don't, I'll cut out your fucking tongue."

Realizing how his luck may have finally
turned, Maddi opened his eyes and said, "Thank you. I'm sorry I
called you names. It's the pain and the horrible smell; I
appreciate your help with both." He tried to look sincere without
overacting; the look on Jarvis' face seemed to indicate she was
buying it. He knew that getting her close enough to the bed to pull
the soiled sheet would give him a chance to strike.

"That's more like it," Jarvis said as she
moved to Ridgely's corpse and began dragging it to the closet.

Quarter
past midnight - last day

Evans' voice held its usual crisp,
business-like tone as he informed Edgar of the search results. "It
took some doing," he said, "but we know where Campbell and Mr.
Bristow are located. She's holed up at the home of one of her
former extortion victims, a Mr. Stephen Davies. The team is being
dispatched as we speak; we'll have her within the hour. Mr. Bristow
will be taken to hospital, of course. I'll handle any questions
they may ask."

"Excellent!" Edgar said, excited and relieved
to finally have something to do. "I'll be there as soon as I
can."

"We discussed this, sir. It's too dangerous;
you are not to become involved!" the barrister's voice rose.

"Damn it, Evans! He's in this situation
because of me; I have to help him!"

"You are helping him, sir. You're paying me
quite handsomely for rescuing him. I assure you, you'll get your
time with Miss Campbell if that is your wish. However, you will not
be on this mission! End call." The comm line went dead, but it
didn't matter. Edgar was already on the move, dressing in black
jeans and tee shirt, asking the HC for directions to Mr. Stephen
Davies' home.

One-oh-five A.M

Maddi was nearly losing his mind waiting.
After Jarvis dumped Ridgely's corpse into the closet, she left the
room presumably to get the supplies she promised so Maddi could
clean up. However, she didn't come back. He was grateful for the
Prozine; at least the pain had receded to a dull ache. As he'd done
for the past few hours, he went over his plan again.

When Jarvis came to the head of the bed to
pull the sheet from under him, he would raise himself as though to
help her. As she bent over the bed, he planned to drop himself and
strike at her neck with the injector. He'd need to hold her in
place - probably by the hair, he thought - until he'd pumped enough
air into her jugular to do the job. It was the last, best hope he
had of helping himself.

The door whisked open and Jarvis entered,
holding a stack of washcloths and towels in one hand and a small
basin of water in the other. She tossed the cloths into Maddi's lap
and gently set the basin on the bed next to him. A brief urge to
make his move passed quickly as Maddi realized she still wasn't
close enough.

"Here you go, stinky," she said. "Hop to it.
Try to shift over as you clean so you're not sitting back down in
shit. Once you're done, we'll do the sheets." She turned and left
the room as Maddi picked up a washcloth.

One-ten A.M

Edgar stood in front of the burned-out shell
of Mr. Stephen Davies' home. He confirmed the address three times
hoping he'd made an error, but there was no mistake; he was, in
fact, at the correct address. The damage to the house was recent,
maybe within the last few days, but certainly not from tonight.
Part of him was relieved that Maddi hadn't been in the fire, but
the rest of his mind seethed with rage.

Goddamn it! That fucker gave me a bogus
name! Fuck! He just wanted me out of the way so the team could do
the job without me. I swear, if anything else happens to Maddi I'll
turn that old man inside-out! Fuck with me, will ya? I hope you
were serious about not needing my money, because you are so
shit-canned, you arrogant little prick!

Fuming, Edgar turned and began the long walk
back to the magna station rather than call for another transport as
he'd done to get to Davies'. He wasn't fit for human company at the
moment and transport drivers were notoriously chatty. He tried
calling Evans on the way, but for once in their long association,
the barrister was neither answering his call, nor accepting
messages.

One-thirty A.M

Maddi called out to Jarvis after he finished
washing himself. Moments later, she entered the room to find him
smiling and sitting close to the edge of the bed nearest the door.
"All done, I see," she said. "That must feel so much better! Enjoy
it while you can because your rich boyfriend hasn't paid for you
yet. In another eighteen and a half hours, you're going to be very
uncomfortable. I think I'll start with that smartass tongue and
move down from there. Unless, of course, he pays. Then I'm just
going to kill you quickly and leave."

Maddi forced himself to look shocked, despite
the fact that he'd already figured he was dead even if Edgar paid
the ransom. Unless, of course, his plan worked. He looked up at
her, fake shock turning to fake despair, and said, "But... but I
thought you were going to let me go if he paid! Please! Please
don't kill me! I'll do anything!"

Jarvis was unaffected by his speech and
responded only with, "There, there, hon. It'll be quick; just one
shot to the head and bang, you're dead!" She obviously found her
little poem amusing, given her laughter. Maddi responded
appropriately by bursting into tears.

This just made Jarvis laugh harder. Finally,
she clapped her hands together, the sound like a shot in the small
room. "That's enough, buttercup! Suck up those tears and quit being
a pussy. We all have to go sometime and this is just your time.
Now, do you wanna sit next to a pile of shit or do you want those
sheets pulled?"

Maddi brought his alligator tears under
control, snuffled like a little child, and said, "Please. Let's
pull the sheets. If I have to die, I at least want some dignity, if
I can have it."

"Works for me," quipped Jarvis. "Dead is
dead. If you wanna go out singing Broadway show tunes or quoting
Shakespeare, do it. I don't care how you go, as long as I'm the one
to send you off."

Maddi allowed a few more tears to fall at her
crass remark before nodding in agreement. "Just quiet dignity,
that's all. I can't sing and I don't know any Shakespeare," he
said.

Jarvis moved forward to assist with the
sheets. When she was at the head of the bed, Maddi pushed up with
his arms, raising himself off the sheets. Jarvis leaned down and
behind him to get the soiled linens. When she was where Maddi
wanted her, he dropped his weight and brought his right arm up and
behind in an arc, locking Jarvis' neck in the crook of his elbow
and pulling her forward. He shifted his hand slightly and grabbed a
handful of her hair in a death grip.

"...little bastard!" she yelled as she
grabbed at his arm. In the next instant, he swung his left arm
toward her exposed jugular and held the injector in place,
activating it as she struggled, trying desperately to break free.
She managed to land one good punch to Maddi's right knee.

Even with a full dose of Prozine onboard, the
pain exploded, blurring Maddi's vision and causing him to lose his
grip. He fought to regain it, but it was too late; Jarvis threw
herself backward onto the floor. Maddi, wracked with pain, was
working hard not to lose consciousness, all the while hoping he'd
injected enough air to kill the woman.

Jarvis struggled to get to her feet, but kept
falling down. She knew something wasn't quite right, but couldn't
tell exactly what was wrong. Maddi watched her, knowing he'd either
escape or die within the few minutes. She was grasping her chest,
face contorted in pain, and seemed to be having difficulty
breathing. He knew this was a sign she had a serious venous air
embolism; what he couldn't tell was whether it was serious enough
to be fatal.

The pain in his knee was beginning to subside
when Jarvis launched herself at the bed. He tried to roll away, but
he wasn't fast enough to avoid her as she fell onto him. She pushed
herself up, patting her pockets looking for the mini. That was last
thing Maddi saw before the darkness claimed him.

One-forty-two A.M

If anyone noticed the sleek, black transport
parked at the end of the cul-de-sac, they didn't do anything about
it, such as calling Security. Neither, it seemed, did anyone notice
the six black-clad figures crouch-walking in the shadows toward
Number 537 Morrison, the home of the recently-deceased Anderson
Ridgely.

The exterior of the home was well-kept and
landscaped. The latter provided ample cover for the team to do its
job. One person on each of the two entrances, front and back; one
with a med kit and a fourth hacking the HC and tracking movement in
the house via infrared scan. The remaining two, a petite woman in
black leathers and an older man wearing a form-fitting bodysuit,
hung back waiting for the hacker to open the front door.

Evans tapped the special earbuddy in his left
ear. "Alvarez, what's your status?"

The man in question tapped his own 'buddy and
replied, "Only two people, both in a rear room at the south-east
corner of the house. One unmoving, but alive; the other stumbling
like a drunk, or someone injured. I'm almost in to the HC; twenty
seconds more, max."

"Good," Evans responded. He tapped the 'buddy
again, "Team. We go in the front door as planned. Head for the
south-east corner. Maxwell, we have one down, one potential
injured; Bristow is the priority. Laureth, if Campbell is up, take
her down. I want her alive, though. Stanton and Griggs, keep on the
doors. No one gets in or out who isn't on this team." Alvarez gave
a wave from his spot behind a large bush. Evans added, "The HC is
ours, the door is open. Move out!"

Almost as one, the team rushed the house, all
but Stanton and Griggs who held the perimeter and Alvarez who
tracked the movements of the targets. Evans and Laureth went first,
followed by Maxwell. Evans took point, carefully sweeping the room;
it paid to be careful, even with Alvarez' voice in his ear every
five seconds with a "no movement" update. Evans kept his weapon of
choice at the ready; the compact pistol packed a huge wallop for
its size, hence the nickname 'bone blower'. When this bullet hit
the bone, it obliterated its target leaving shards too small to
ever be repaired.

The team was halfway to the rear bedroom when
Alvarez' update changed. "Movement! Stumbler is heading your
way!"

"Got it!" Evans responded. He, Maxwell and
Laureth flattened themselves against the wall, out of sight from
the hallway leading to the rear of the house. Within seconds, they
could hear labored breathing and heavy footsteps. Moments later, a
woman stumbled into view. Laureth swept Campbell's legs and the
woman went down hard.

"Maxwell, with me!" Evans ordered and the two
men sped off down the hallway, leaving Laureth to deal with
Campbell.

"Well, bitch, guess you're time is up!"
Laureth spat the words at the prone Campbell. "You don't look so
good. Too bad; I was hoping you'd put up more of a fight." At this,
she cracked her knuckles.

Campbell, still fighting to steady her
breathing, smiled up at the smaller woman. "You... should be...
careful what... you wish for... bitch!" she gasped. Without missing
a beat, she flipped to her left side taking Laureth's legs out from
under her. As she fell, Campbell jumped to her feet, adrenaline
kicking in, and planted a kick to Laureth's midsection, stopping
her from getting up.

Laureth slammed into the wall behind her with
enough force to knock two picture frames loose, sending them
crashing to the floor. She shielded her eyes from the shattering
glass and jumped to her feet as Campbell came in for another kick.
She never got her chance though; Laureth planted a high kick to her
chin, snapping her head back severely. Laureth bounced on the balls
of her feet, hands up, ready for another round. Campbell landed on
her back, head hitting the floor with a sickening crack. She didn't
move.

"Light-weight," Laureth said, shaking her
head and grabbing the plasti-cuffs from her belt.

Evans and Maxwell entered the rear bedroom to
find Maddox Bristow struggling to get out of bed. The boy's knees
were swollen to the size of ripe melons and the room smelled like a
charnel house, despite the HC's efforts to cleanse the air.

"Stop right there, Maddox," Evans said.
"We're friends and you're safe now. Maxwell here is a medic; let
him take a look at those knees. What the fuck is that awful smell?"
he asked.

"Some poor bastard named Ridgely. This is his
house, I think. He's in the closet," Maddi answered as Maxwell
eased him back on the bed and began his exam.