"I suspect you know the answer to that last question," the bald man answered. "But my name is Louis. I don’t suppose you knew that all members of The Illuminati, especially those who safeguard valuable information, are subject to observation. We saw your kidnapping of Mr. Conrad. Now I’d like you to give us all the information you gathered. If you cooperate, we may not hurt you too badly."
Morgan bit his tongue before he voiced his doubts about that. They were going to kill him regardless of what he did. As casually as possible, he reached into his pocket, pretending to comply with Louis’ request. He pulled out a small slip of paper on which he’d written Conrad’s address and usual schedule. As he was doing so, his fingers brushed against a small radio device that was used by all the aides to keep in contact with one another. One of its settings was a simple distress signal that would alert all the others that the user was in danger. Of course, its range was somewhat limited but Gray had managed to find a way to piggyback its signal over international wires. There would be probably be no way for anyone at Assistance Unlimited to actually help him but Morgan wanted to warn them, nonetheless.
"Here you go," Morgan said, folding the paper in half and then handing it over. "I didn’t take much information, actually. I just wanted to know how to reach a man named Walther Lunt."
Louis obviously recognized the name. His back stiffened and a terrible sneer touched his lips. "That bastard… if it were up to me, I’d let you have him."
Morgan sensed an opening and leapt for it. He gestured with his free hand toward the scar on the man’s face. "Is he responsible for that?"
"Among other things, yes." Louis shook his head, obviously trying to clear it of bad memories. "Down on your knees. "
"Aren’t you going to look at the paper? That’s everything, I swear."
Louis hesitated and then began to unfold the paper. When his eyes dropped, Morgan sprang into action. He knew he was a dead man but he wasn’t going to risk going down without a fight. He threw himself into Louis, knocking the man off his feet. Morgan made sure to shove the bald man into one of his henchmen.
Using instincts honed as a member of Assistance Unlimited, Morgan was a blur of action. He drew his gun and had blown off the head of the nearest thug before the remaining two men had even reached for their own weapons.
Morgan ducked and rolled, evading gunshots from the two men who were still on their feet. When he came back to his knees, he fired twice more, each bullet ripping through the throats of his targets.
In just a few seconds, Morgan had killed three men, which left him facing only two more: the odds had improved immensely. With any luck, he might get out of this in one piece, after all.
Louis gestured for his remaining ally to hang back. He held his hands up, his gun still clutched tightly. Morgan held his weapon aimed at the bald man’s head but didn’t pull the trigger. He was curious what Louis was up to.
"We can talk about this," Louis said. "We both hate Lunt."
"I thought you said it wasn’t up to you, though. You’ve got your orders, right? Take the information I’ve gathered and kill me. That’s the basics, right?"
"That’s what I was told to do, yes. But that doesn’t mean we can’t change things."
Morgan stood up, his eyes flicking over to the cab that had brought him here. The driver was sitting in the front seat, watching intently. Given the blood that freely trickled from his ruined jaw, the driver’s hatred for Morgan was obvious. No way was that guy going to sit by and let Morgan negotiate his way to freedom. "I don’t think that’s going to happen and we all know it."
Louis swallowed hard and then spun about. He shot the man standing behind him, blowing a hole directly between the man’s eyes. He then turned toward the car and fired three times before one of the bullets ended the driver’s life. He then tossed the gun aside and turned back to Morgan. "Now can we talk?’
Morgan took a deep breath and nodded. He lowered his weapon, wondering about the wisdom of this. A part of him said he should simply kill Louis on the spot and flee back to the States… but what if he could gather more information this way? What if Louis knew something that would allow Assistance Unlimited to drive a stake through The Illuminati’s heart?
"Make it good," Morgan said at last.
And Louis began to speak.
The crime scene was abuzz with activity but Samantha found it hard to concentrate on the men and women around them. She kept focusing on all the tiny bodies that had been laid out to the side, sheets carefully placed over the ruined remains. The smell was awful and she knew that at least part of that came from the burned flesh of children.
"Samantha? Are you going to be all right?"
Samantha glanced over at Lazarus, noting the look of concern in his eyes. His face remained stoic but for those who knew him well, it was obvious when he was troubled. "I’m fine," she lied. "Really."
After a moment’s consideration, Lazarus nodded and resumed walking through the debris. Samantha followed right behind him, primly watching her step on the treacherous terrain.
The various officers in charge of the investigation were watching Gray with a mixture of hopefulness and disdain. Though most of the police force was in the back pockets of gangsters like The Monster or Big Tony, some of them were legitimate enough to appreciate the assistance that Gray provided. But they still felt some jealousy when the man stepped onto the scene and found something that they’d missed.
Gray brushed aside some charred pieces of wood with the toe of his shoe. He spotted something amidst the ash and knelt to take a closer examination of the object, lifting it up between two fingers. He blew on it to clear off some of the dirt and held it up for Samantha to see. "What do you think this is?"
Samantha bent at the waist, placing her hands on her knees. She was aware of — but tried to ignore — the stares of the cops nearby. She knew she was attractive but there were so few men who were her intellectual equal that she found it hard to enjoy all the attention. The object that Gray was holding appeared to be shaped out of stone and resembled a crescent moon, though there were three deep scratches across its center, as if a cat had marked it with its claws. "I’ve never seen anything like it. What kind of rock is that?"
"Not one from this world," Gray answered. He stood up and dropped it into the pocket of his coat. "I’ve seen stones like that before. It’s from the moon."
Samantha’s gaze drifted upward, toward the hazy morning sky. "But… how?"
"Sometimes they’re brought to earth on the backs of meteors. But I’d wager that this one came the old fashioned way: I think someone went to the moon and picked it up."
"That’s impossible," Samantha responded.
"Not really. Think about all the bizarre things we’ve seen in the course of our adventures. Is it really so shocking that men might be traveling back and forth to the moon?"
"Yes," Samantha said with a smile. "It’s still pretty damned shocking."
"Such language from a young lady. It’s disgraceful."
Samantha straightened and looked over at Inspector Cord of the Sovereign PD. He was a whippet-thin man who had one eye that seemed to be perpetually narrowed.
"Sorry if I offended you, Inspector."
"I’ll recover but thank you." Cord gestured toward Lazarus. "Did I see you pick something up and put it in your pocket? I sincerely hope not, since you don’t have leave to remove evidence from a crime scene."
"Is that what this is?" Samantha asked sweetly. "A crime scene? I thought it was just a freak accident."