"But what about you, Chief?" The tone in Eun’s voice made it clear that he didn’t like abandoning his employer.
"The Claw wants me to come alone, so I’m not going to be able to use you two. Morgan’s overseas, facing The Illuminati. Without more details, we have to assume the worst. Sending one of you might not be enough to save him."
Morgan had long since forgotten about the distress signal he’d sent. Things had proceeded to a point where his thoughts were entirely shifted away from where they had been. Louis had told him that he could take him to a hidden location, a vault of artifacts where Morgan could not only find out more about The Illuminati but also personal details related to Walther Lunt.
It had crossed Morgan’s mind that this might be another trap but he’d seen something in the other man’s eyes that made him trust the fellow. Louis hated Lunt and was willing to risk his own life if it meant striking back at his enemy.
And so they had come to a small chateau just outside the city. The grasses were high and the entire property looked abandoned. Louis had told him that this was one of Lunt’s safe houses, one of nearly two dozen scattered throughout Europe. It was here that he stored many of his treasures and personal papers. Louis had been inside only once before, having accepted an invitation from Lunt himself several years before the incident that had severed their relations.
Morgan had wandered around the house before rejoining Louis at the front door. Assured that there seemed to be no ambush waiting to happen, Morgan consented to follow the other man inside. The house had been quite nice, with several paintings that were probably worth more than Morgan would have made in a lifetime, even at the generous wages provided by Lazarus.
But it was what lay in the cellar that had driven all thoughts about his friends from Morgan’s mind. Louis had shown him a small metal box about the size of a footrest. There was a knocking from within the box, a thrashing about that intensified as the men approached. It sounded like someone had locked a small dog or cat inside.
"What’s in there?" Morgan asked, staring at the container, a sense of dread rising up from the pit of his stomach. His bowels suddenly felt loose and threatening.
"The truth about The Illuminati and how it’s managed to become all that it is."
Morgan frowned, not liking the overly dramatic presentation. Even so, he sensed that Louis truly meant these words and was not using them in an attempt to scare him.
Morgan knelt in front of the box and slowly unlatched its lid, opening it a few inches at a time. When he finally saw what lay within, looking dried up and emaciated, he let out an audible gasp and backed away, letting the box lid drop shut. Though he’d only gazed upon the unholy creature for a matter of seconds, he knew the image would be burned into his mind forever: though the beast had looked half-mummified, it still lived and the drooping folds of its skin indicated that in full health, it would have possessed a bloated corpulence. The creature’s head was pulpy and tentacled, surmounting a grotesquely scaled body with rudimentary wings. The monster was vaguely anthropoid with an octopus-like head. Sharp claws on the hind and forefeet made it quite clear that this was a dangerous beast but most awful of all was its fearsome and unnatural malignancy. This was something that should not exist. And yet, it did… and it fought against its own death even now, thrashing about in the box that was its prison.
"What in God’s name was that?" Morgan asked, once his strength of will had returned.
"Cthulhi," Louis answered. "The Star-Spawn of a great and powerful creature. They arrived on Earth with their unholy master and most of them are trapped beneath the waves now, all locked away in the basalt city of R’lyeh. The Illuminati are the human servants of these ancient beasts. They hope to be amongst the few to survive the terrors that will come when R’lyeh rises from beneath the sea."
Morgan turned away from the horrible box and the horror it contained. He wished that he could talk to Lazarus right now. His employer knew a lot about these sorts of things and how to deal with them… but Morgan was simply an old con man who had gone straight. He wasn’t really suited to dealing with fallen gods. "I’m not sure how you think this is going to help," he said at last, turning his head toward Louis.
"Because once you understand why a man does what he does, you have a chance of beating him. Walther Lunt and all the rest of them, they’re looking to accomplish two things: the first is that they’re accumulating all the occult knowledge in the world so that they can find the key to unlocking R’lyeh’s prison. They want to raise it again, awakening all the monsters that slumber within. But before they do that, they want to make sure that they’re in positions of power the world over. When the Old Ones return, The Illuminati hope to be overseers for the human slaves who will be like cattle for the monsters. In return, they’ll be granted favors and — hopefully — be spared the full brunt of the terrors that await humanity."
"And that’s why you work with them?"
Louis laughed hoarsely. "No. I work for them because they pay very, very well. It’s a gamble, you see… I’m not high enough up the food chain to look forward to the raising of R’lyeh. I’d end up dead or worse in the New World Order. But The Illuminati hasn’t raised that city in all the centuries they’ve been around so I’m taking the chance they won’t do it during my lifetime, either."
"You know all this… What they’re really about… and you still take their money? You still work to help them?"
The cultist shrugged his shoulders. "The world’s never done much for me. Why should I care what happens to it?"
Morgan had holstered his gun before unlatching the box but he drew it now, making Louis tense. "Thank you for showing me this," he said. "It does solidify something for me."
Louis watched him warily. "And what’s that?"
Morgan walked quickly toward the box, kicking the lid open with the toe of his shoe. He pointed his pistol at the awful thing within and pulled the trigger three quick times in succession, the bullets reducing the sickly monster to a splatter of blood and goo. When the deed was done, Morgan turned the gun on Louis, who quickly raised his hands in submission. "Monsters need to die."
Morgan pulled the trigger twice more.
Ten minutes later, Morgan was outside the chateau, having busied himself by pouring gasoline around the exterior of the property. He struck a match and tossed it onto the ground, moving away as the flame sent the gasoline into a sudden frenzy. He knew that Lazarus didn’t really approve of murder — and that’s what this had been, no doubt about it. But Morgan had realized something while listening to Louis: this wasn’t some gang lord they were trying to take down or a criminal enterprise, even a worldwide one. This was a war, one that would hold the continued existence of the human race in the balance. As far as Morgan was concerned, there was no murder in war, at least not so far as it concerned two combatants.
And the sooner the rest of Assistance Unlimited realized the same thing, the better off they’d all be.
Chapter IV
The Beast
Eisner Way had once been a nice residential area and the O’Reilly Church had been one of the beating hearts of the community. But like so much else in Sovereign City, it had gradually become grimier until all the beauty was hidden beneath several layers of sludge. When the economy crashed back in ’29, Eisner had slowly become a veritable graveyard as families moved to less expensive parts of the city. The church had finally shut its doors in ’32.