"Your fins are showing," I told him.
He sneered at me, then burped. He rubbed his stomach. "My incipient ulcer's acting up again," he groaned.
I rummaged through the medicine cabinet until I found something for him. "Here," I said, throwing him a bottle of pills. "Cimetidine. Just take one."
He caught the bottle and shook his head wonderingly. "Is there anything you don't have in that drug locker of yours?"
"Got everything," I said. "Ups, downs, highs, lows―you name it."
"I believe it."
"Never thought I'd raise my kid up to be a pusher," Sam said.
Liam returned in forty-five minutes.
"Not as many guests as we'd thought," he told us, "and some of 'em were down in the Blade. We warned the rest―they buggered off with no protest."
"Any guards?"
"Two were dozing in the office. I suspect Moore has one or two lads with him in his flat. They don't seem to be expecting anything."
"Good. Where's Sean?"
"In the Blade. Don't worry, when the donnybrook starts, they'll all bee out the back door in a flash."
"Fine. Don't want any innocent casualties. You're fairly sure Darla and Winnie aren't there?"
"There's a chance, but I doubt it. They're likely out in the woods somewhere."
"Okay. "
I fired up the engine and started forward. Brooding boughs swept over us, barely clearing the top of the cab. Pairs of tiny eyes peered out at us from the shadows―or so I thought, but when I looked at them directly they disappeared. Was I still high? No, I'd come down but I still wasn't sure what was reality and what wasn't. Which was really no change from the. usual state of things, when you think about it.
The road bore to the right, and lights appeared up ahead. I gunned the engine, making it roar. I didn't need stealth or subtlety now; this was my grandstand play, and I wanted an audience. I rolled into the nearby empty parking lot and came to a stop about fifteen meters from the entrance. I flicked on the high-intensity headlamps and focused the spotlight on the windows next to the hotel office. I juiced up the 5,000-watt amplifier, switched the feed to the outside speakers, put on my headset, and spoke.
"ATTENTION, ATTENTION," I heard my voice boom into the night. "I AM ADDRESSING THE OWNER OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT, MR. ZACHARY MOORE."
"Mother of God, you'll be waking the dead," Liam complained, digging a finger into one ear.
"I SAY AGAIN, ATTENTION, MR. ZACHARY MOORE. YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUIRED FRONT AND CENTER."
I gave him twenty seconds.
"MOORE, GET YOUR ASS OUT ONTO THIS PORCH, LIKE, PRONTO, OR YOU'LL GET A MISSILE THROUGH YOUR BEDROOM WINDOW."
A face appeared briefly at a window directly off the porch. I couldn't tell who it was.
"Sam, let's give 'em some wake-up music."
"I've got just the piece, too," Sam said gleefully.
We blasted the hotel with a stirring rendition of The Golden Eagle March for about half a minute. Then the front door opened arid Moore staggered out, shielding his eyes with both hands. He was barefooted, dressed in gray long johns.
"Turn that bloody light off!" he bellowed.
I deflected the spot, but kept the headbeams on.
He peered out. He looked half-asleep and mortally hung over. "What the bloody fuck is going on?"
John said, "I'm surprised he came out."
"He's used to having his way," Liam said. "He's got brass, I'll give him that."
I turned down the gain on the amplifier, but not a whole lot. "Maybe you don't recognize the voice. You're talking to Jake McGraw."
He took a half step backward. "What do you want?"
"You know damn well. I want my friends back. Now."
"I'm not responsible for your bleeding friends. I don't know what you're talking about."
He was still blustering, but his eyes betrayed the sudden realization of his vulnerability. He'd walked right into it. And I'd known he would, too. He was just the kind of big pushy bastard who can't imagine things not going his way. Didn't even occur to him to look out and see our truck and think, hey, this could be trouble. He had probably thought it was the local gendarmerie come to investigate the kidnapping report, and he'd come out to scold them. How dare they disturb a big cheese-wheel like him in the middle of the night. You lads come back in the morning and we'll clear up this bit of nonsense straightaway.
"You know, Zack," I said. "I'm tired. It's late. I'm not going to argue with you. There's an exciter cannon trained on your midsection. You are going to stand right there and call out for your flunkies to go fetch them while we all wait. They're to be delivered here, unharmed, within a reasonable period of time―say, one and a quarter eyeblinks. If not, I'm going to cook your kidneys and feed 'em to the dogs for breakfast."
He drew himself up and squared his shoulders. "Really now," he said evenly. "Don't count on ever seeing your friends again."
"Oh, I see. Suddenly we're on a different level of argument. You're admitting you have in fact abducted my companions and are holding them against their will?"
"I'm admitting nothing." He cleared his throat and spat on the wood of the porch. "What makes you think there's been an abduction? That woman is a fugitive. 'Arrest' would be the appropriate term."
"Crap," I said. "What difference does that make in the Outworlds? If you're telling me there's extradition I'm telling you you're full of shit."
"Not a question of extradition," he said. "'Preventive detention' might cover it. Besides, I don't feel compelled to be telling you much of anything, mate. Except this. Leave these premises immediately or you're a dead man."
His brass amazed me. "I'm a dead man? Buddy, you're about three nanoseconds away from becoming breakfast sausage."
He folded his arms. "Start counting nanoseconds, then."
I set the targeting mode on the missile rack for line-of-sight aim and pulled down the target scope. I drew my bead and pressed the ARM switch. "We'll get to the countdown in just a sec, pal, First I want to find out a few things. Who're you taking orders from?"
"I take no orders."
"Take suggestions? Take in laundry? Come on, Moore, somebody clued you in about me and told you that Winnie was a valuable object. Was it Pendergast?"
"It seems everyone's heard about you and your heroic exploits. You say your alien pet is missing? You may report it to the local office of the Home Guard in the morning, if you wish. Poor thing probably strayed into the woods."
"Whoops," I said, "now we're not admitting things again. Contradicting yourself, there. Two of my friends are missing, whom you've admitted abducting. One human, one alien."
He snorted. "I've admitted to nothing, and you can ram your contradictions up your arse."
I clapped my hands twice, then poised my finger over the FIRE switch. "Well spoken, for a man who's about to die."
"Do you really think," he sneered, "that you'll get off Talltree alive if anything happens to me? I happen to be well thought of around these woods and it would ill behoove you to―"
I hit the switch and there was a whoosh and a flash, followed by the hollow crump of an explosion. Debris rained about the parking lot.
When it had all come down, Moore stepped from the porch and looked up.
"You bloody… bastard!"
"Yeah," I said. "That was a nice chimney. Fine stonework. Local masons, were they? A real pity."
He turned and fought an impulse to rush the truck, his face dark with rage. "You―!" He swallowed hard.
"Stay right where you are, Moore, or I'll fry you. Sam, keep the exciter on him while I have some fun."
"Will do!"
"You have lots of nice chimneys," I said. "Real pretty."
I aimed and fired another missile. A chimney on the far right corner of the building flew apart. Moore ducked and sought the refuge of the porch again.