Lazarus spun about; delivering a backhanded blow that sent the thief tumbling away from him. Without another word, the founder of Assistance Unlimited clambered up onto the railing and jumped. For a moment, he seemed to hang in the air, suspended three floors above ground, and then he was crashing down onto the back of the whale. The wire mesh buckled and bits of plaster began to fall all around him as the cable anchors were strained by his weight. Precarious as it may have been, everything held. In those brief moments Lazarus was glad Agnes had interrupted his plans to drink.
Lazarus had just picked up the handbag when he felt the whale shift again and the rain of plaster doubled in intensity. He turned around to see that the thief had followed suit and was now facing him with a grin on his face. Lazarus knew it was only luck that was still anchoring the cables.
“Whatsamatter, Gray? Didn’t think I’d join you?” the man asked. He held out a hand and wiggled his fingers. “Give it to me and you’ll get to walk out of here alive. Otherwise, I’ll gut you like a fish.” To punctuate his words, the man waved his newly recovered knife menacingly with his other hand.
Just then, the whale tilted preciously to the side. Lazarus looked up to see that several of the cables had come undone and the entire structure was in imminent danger of collapse.
Both men looked at each other in shock as the inevitable happened, the rest of the cables snapped. Somewhere, a woman was screaming but Lazarus had no idea what direction the sound was coming from: all he could hear was the whistling of the air past his ears as what was up was now down. He knelt quickly as he braced for impact. Slamming a fist through the papier-mâché material he held on for dear life as the whale slammed to the floor of the museum.
The would-be thief was not so lucky. He lost his footing on the way down and fell over the side. He smashed to the floor and was buried by the bulk of the whale as it fatally crashed down on top of him.
Lazarus rolled off the ruined whale and sat panting for several minutes on the floor. When he looked up, he saw Kelly running towards him with Agnes in tow.
“The other man,” Lazarus said between pants of breath. “Where is he?”
Agnes knelt at his side, touching a bruise on his forehead. “He ran off during all the commotion. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure how to stop him.”
Lazarus held up the handbag, offering it to Kelly. “At least we kept this.”
Kelly took the bag, surveying the destruction all around them. “We can’t afford to wait,” she said. “I’ll work it all out with Father. We’ll have a plane ready to go by tomorrow morning.”
Lazarus slowly stood up and nodded. Agnes had mentioned that three men were following her: even with one of them now dead, that still left two more in Sovereign City. Kelly was right — there was no need to wait and give them more opportunities to strike.
“I’ll get the rest of Assistance Unlimited packed and ready,” he said. He reached out and squeezed Agnes’ hand. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
“I have to, Mr. Gray.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked up at him. “You understand, don’t you?”
Lazarus studied her for a moment before turning away. Mongolia was a long way from Sovereign City and the trip would be fraught with peril… but there was a part of him that was eagerly looking forward to the challenge. He needed the distraction.
Miya Shimada was a Japanese-American and her beauty was the perfect mixture of the two races that made up her ethnic background: the slim features of the Japanese melded with the hips and breasts of a Western woman. She was a trusted member of The Illuminati but in her heart of hearts, she served only one true master: that of her destiny.
Miya wore a black jumpsuit that hugged the contours of her body and afforded maximum range of motion. Black gloves and boots completed the outfit, with a heavy belt around her waist holding a pistol, a flashlight and several other pieces of equipment. The only splash of color was from the small flower that rested in her hair. The red petals of the rose stood out in stark contract from her milky white skin and raven hair.
She grunted as she pulled herself up the exterior of her quarry’s home. Like a practiced mountain climber, she found the exact purchase needed to propel her upwards until she reached the third floor window. A soft orange light illuminated the room within and Miya swung a leg over the balcony railing. She crouched just out of sight, scanning the scene before her.
Kelly was inside, checking her packed bags for the final time. Miya felt a brief pang of jealousy upon seeing the statuesque woman but she quickly pushed the emotion aside. Like Kelly, Miya was a former lover of Lazarus Gray’s. In Miya’s case, they had fallen in love soon after meeting in 1927. Their romance had lasted for almost six years but it had been stop-and-go from the very beginning, as Lazarus had quickly become disenchanted with The Illuminati. Miya was supposed to ensure that he would remain loyal but she’d failed — something that had greatly weakened her own position within the secretive group. An attempt to seduce him after the formation of Assistance Unlimited had been fruitless, forcing Miya to seek other avenues of proving herself to her superiors.
Recently, she’d managed to successfully steal from and assassinate a range of targets. This had allowed her to move away from Lunt’s not inconsiderable shadow and stand on her own feet. For nearly three months, she’d avoided him completely. It had been too good to last.
Now she was once more under Lunt’s command, which chafed at her more than she cared to admit. He wanted her to sabotage her former lover’s mission to Mongolia without directly confronting Lazarus. That meant that Kelly was a prime target.
Miya took out a small circular device that she pressed against the window. A cord led from the device to a smaller earpiece that she quickly slid into place. Instantly, it sounded like Miya was in the room with Kelly and she heard everything with crystal clear clarity.
Kelly’s father, a rotund man with thick glasses, thinning hair and a busy moustache, had entered the room. He had his hands pushed deep into his pockets and he bore a paternal expression of concern. “Are you sure you’re going on this adventure for the right reasons?”
Kelly knelt and rummaged around beneath her bed, finally returning with a pair of dusty boots in her hands. “If we find a cache of Soul Stones, the museum will be set for another century. You know if you were younger, you’d be the first one lined up to board the plane.”
“I don’t deny that. But I know that this business between you and Lazarus isn’t quite finished.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Kelly turned to face her father. She towered over him and Miya assumed that she got her looks from her mother’s side of the family. “You know Lazarus almost as well as I do. The man’s an enigma wrapped up inside a riddle. He’s cold and distant. Worst of all, he keeps secrets from everyone around him. I don’t think he means to be deceptive… it’s more like he’s so wrapped up in the mysteries he faces that it never occurs to him to share all he knows until the affair is resolved.”
“Despite all that, you still love him.” Her father spoke as if there could be no debate about that and Miya noticed that Kelly didn’t even bother to try.
“I’ve given up on a relationship with him, Dad. This is purely business.”
Professor Emerson moved forward, placing his hands atop his daughter’s shoulders. “I just worry about you.”
“I know.” Kelly smiled and embraced her father. Miya stared at the scene, pulling a small handgun and silencer from a pouch on her belt. She screwed the silencer over the barrel and took aim, knowing that she could kill both Emersons in the space of a few seconds. She didn’t think this would stop Lazarus from undertaking the mission but it might delay him for a few days, which was all that Lunt wanted.