I must have moved forward, because all the guns immediately moved to cover me, and Scott actually fell back a step. He glared at me.
“Stay right where you are, Drood! And don’t try to run. I need you alive, not intact. Having the Jackson Fifty-five chase after you and drag you down would just be embarrassing for all concerned. Now, Eddie, please be so good as to remove that nasty gun of yours from your hidden pocket dimension, and drop it on the floor. And when you’ve done that, you can empty out all your pockets, and show us all the lovely toys the family Armourer gave you just for this mission. I’m sure my superiors will have such fun, working out what they do, and how best to use them against your family.”
“Can I ask a question?” I said.
“What is it?” said Scott.
“Do you really have my father and mother imprisoned down here somewhere?”
“Of course not!” said Scott. “Haven’t a clue where they are. Didn’t know they were your parents, until Frankie volunteered the information.”
“One more question,” I said.
“It’s no use trying to put it off, Drood,” Scott said pityingly. “It’s over! You lost. I never thought to see the legendary Eddie Drood beg and plead for just a little more time, before the inevitable awfulness.”
“I just wanted to ask,” I said, “whether you’ve informed your lord and master, Franklyn Parris, as to who I really am?”
“Not yet,” said Scott. “That’s going to be my little surprise at the end of Casino Infernale. My gift to him to ensure my promotion.”
“That’s all I needed to know,” I said. “Lady! Now!”
And the Scarlet Lady came roaring forward, blasting out of her parking space just behind Jonathon Scott; sounding her horn loudly as she came charging to the rescue. She swept past Scott, who threw himself to one side, crying out, and ran right over the Jacksons defending the null zone generator. She smashed right through the machine, blowing it to pieces, and then spun around to run over the Jacksons she hadn’t hit the first time. They opened fire on her, and their bullets ricocheted harmlessly from her chassis. They just had time to scream once, before she ran them down and chewed them up under her wheels.
I drew my Colt Repeater, and carefully shot Scott in the leg. So he couldn’t run. I didn’t want him dead, just yet. He screamed almost hysterically, as though he couldn’t believe such a thing could happen to someone like him, and then he collapsed, clutching at his leg with both hands. He shouldn’t have threatened my Molly. I turned my gun on the nearest Jacksons, and picked them off one by one.
Their bullets flew past me, but none of them even came close. They had their own problems.
With the machine destroyed, Molly had her magics back, and she was not in a good mood. She gestured sharply, and all the cars around us exploded. The Jacksons standing among them were caught completely off guard, terrorised by the sudden fiery explosions. Some were killed instantly, others caught fire. Those remaining tried to target Molly, but she was off and moving. Here, there, and everywhere. Popping up between the remaining cars, hitting the Jacksons with energy bolts, shaped curses, and really nasty hexes that made their flesh run away like water. Eventually, she got tired of playing with them, and summoned up a great storm wind that came howling through the underground car park. It ignored me, but picked up the Jacksons and slammed them into walls and ceilings and support pillars. With such force they all blew apart like rotten fruit under a hammer.
I lowered my gun. There was no one left to shoot at.
Frankie ran for his life. I ran after him. He really could run, but all the parked cars and blazing wrecks slowed him down. I used my pattern-spotting ability to work out where he was heading before he even knew himself, and then it was easy enough to get myself in just the right place to intercept him. I vaulted over a parked car, landed on him hard, and threw him to the ground.
We rolled back and forth on the concrete floor. Frankie tried to fight me, but he didn’t really know how. And I’ve been trained. I knocked the breath out of him, and then slammed the back of his head against the hard floor. He stopped struggling. I hauled him back onto his feet, and he stood before me, holding his head with both hands, crying like a child.
“Where are my parents?” I said.
I had to slap his face a few times to stop him crying. Anyone else, I would have felt like a bully.
“Where are my parents?”
“I don’t know!” said Frankie. “No one knows where they are! I only said they were here to get you to come with me! It was all Scott’s idea!”
“You betrayed me,” I said. “And Molly. And the family.”
“They were never my family!” said Frankie. “Never. I’m a Grey Bastard, and I have to make my own way. Please don’t hurt me. I can still be useful to you.”
“You really think I’d trust you again, after this?” I said. “You’d sell my true identity in a moment. To Franklyn Parris, or the Major Players, or anyone at all, first chance you got. For money, or spite, or just to prove to yourself that you were still your own man.”
“All right,” said Frankie, drawing himself up with something like wounded dignity. “What are you going to do? Kill me in cold blood? That isn’t you, and you know it.”
“No,” I said. “I’m going to kill you in hot blood. For what you would have let happen to me, and Molly.”
I set the barrel of the Colt Repeater right between his eyes. I really did mean to kill him. I had to think only of what Scott had intended for Molly, and I got sick to my stomach. But in the end, Frankie was right. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t just look into his pleading eyes and execute him. I stepped back, lowered the gun, turned my back on him, and walked away. Frankie laughed at me. And the Scarlet Lady went roaring past me and ran him over. I heard Frankie scream, and then go quiet. I didn’t turn back to look. Just kept walking. After a while, the car came back to join me, idling along at my side.
“Some shit I just don’t put up with,” said the Scarlet Lady.
I nodded. I couldn’t bring myself to thank her, but I think she understood.
I rejoined Molly, standing guard over Jonathon Scott. He had his back propped up against a support pillar, sitting in a pool of his own blood, trying to hold his shattered knee-cap together with both hands. Blood pumped between his fingers. His face was pale and beaded with sweat. His eyes were wide and shocked, but his mouth was set in a flat grim line. He was hurt, but not broken. He looked up to see me approaching but he didn’t flinch.
“Frankie?” said Molly. I shook my head. She nodded, briefly. “Good. Now, what are we going to do with this vicious little shit?”
“I’m thinking,” I said, staring down at him.
“You don’t dare kill me,” said Scott, forcing the words past his pain. “The Shadow Bank would declare war on the Droods for such an open insult.”
“Over one failed mid-management type?” I said. “I don’t think so. Your kind are always going to be expendable in such a big organisation. But you could still be useful to me.”
He looked up at me then, the beginning of hope in his eyes. “I know things,” he said. “I could tell you all kinds of things. . . .”
“Yes,” I said. “You will.”
I looked round at the Scarlet Lady, who’d parked just behind me.
“Do you know where the nearest Drood field agent is, Lady?”
“Oh, sure!” said the car.
“Good,” I said. “Then take this gentleman for a ride. Hand him over to the family and tell them to tear every last secret he has out of him. By all necessary means. Be sure to tell them why . . . and then hurry back here. Our business isn’t over yet.”