Murder jumped to his feet, smiling so broadly that his teeth were on full display. He tossed his burning cigar down to the ground and ignored the scientist who came forward to stub it out with the toe of their shoe. “Congratulations!” Murder shouted. “The deed is done. As of today, we are in complete control of the most powerful device ever created!”
As the various scientists, some of them still looking queasy from Die Glocke’s effects, began to applaud, Professor Murder basked in the adulation. It had occurred to him soon after the Circus came to him, seeking his help in configuring the device, that there was no reason why he should have to share it. It was simple enough to come up with a plan to switch the coordinates on the demonic entities in mid-stream. The group had been dispatched not to Counter-Earth but instead straight into the heart of the sun. Murder wasn’t sure that entities such as the Circus could actually die but he was willing to gamble that they would not be able to return anytime soon.
“What now, sir?” Number One asked as the jubilation began to quiet down. None of the scientists had cared for the Circus and rumors had circulated that some of the corpses of those who had been doing work on Die Glocke had been given to the demons for perverse pleasures had only made those feelings worsen.
Saying nothing, Professor Murder stared at Die Glocke, and the sheer possibility of it all was almost too much for him. With this machine, he could go anywhere and to any time. He could summon forth creatures or individuals from whenever he wished. The only thing that gave him pause was that he didn’t fully understand the possible effects of his actions. If he went back in time with technology from today, what effect would that have on the world? If he ever returned to 1936, what would he find? And an even bigger question loomed large in his mind: What was the beast that was chained on Antichthon?
He was lost in thought when one of his hired goons stepped into the room. The man was wearing a black suit and a gas mask but there was no hiding the nervousness in his manner.
“What do you want?” Murder barked, annoyed to have reverie interrupted. The men who patrolled Locust Mountain were always jumpy — the strange setting seemed to put them all ill at ease and this had been exacerbated by the presence of the Circus.
“There is a small group of men who have arrived at the edge of the city. As per your instructions, we have stopped them and asked what business they have in Locust Mountain.”
“And?”
“Their leader insists on speaking with you. He used your name, Professor.”
Murder frowned. He knew that there were rumors of his presence amongst the intelligence community but rarely did anyone intrude on his domain. He had paid off enough people in power that they turned a blind eye to his activities. As long as he only used those fools who refused to be evacuated from Locust Mountain in his experiments, nobody said a word. It was seen as a way to thin the troublemakers and even the government liked to see that. “Did he give a name?” Murder demanded, growing curious.
“Yes, sir. He said his name is Walther Lunt.”
Chapter IX
Death and Despair
Lunt stood quietly, arms folded over his chest. He was dressed in a black quasi-military uniform, much like those favored by the Nazis. Though he held no official rank in any military, he enjoyed the trappings of power brought about by wearing such garb. With him were three armed men, all dressed in dark suits and fedoras. They were grim-faced individuals, well versed in the kinds of depravity that Lunt specialized in. All of them were wearing gasmasks but it did little to filter out the stench.
In the months since his failed attempt to kill Lazarus Gray, Lunt had recuperated and tried to dance through the political fallout within The Illuminati’s ranks. He knew that his power base was being eroded with each defeat and the organization as a whole was not known for tolerating setbacks. Another loss and Lunt was well aware that his life might be in danger.
Miya Shimada was not with him today and he was yet to decide exactly what role she would play in his future affairs. Though she claimed to have fought valiantly after Lunt’s retreat, he had his doubts — particularly after he found out that Kelly Emerson still lived. He had yet to confront Miya with this fact, but he saw it as clear proof that her loyalties were divided.
Lunt realized that two people were moving through the mists. One of them was much larger than the other in width but he walked with a straight gait, occasionally slumping forward to shamble like an ape.
“Sir?” one of Lunt’s men asked. “Am I seeing things?”
Lunt stared daggers at the men, who visibly shrank away. Men in the service of The Illuminati were trained to be unshakable in the face of unmentionable horrors… yet here was one who had spoken out of turn just because he was face with a gasmask wearing ape in a well-tailored suit.
Turning back to Professor Murder and the obviously armed man at his side, Lunt stood at attention and offered a mock salute. “Professor. The stories of your genius are obviously understated.”
“Cut the crap,” Murder growled. “I know who you are, Lunt, and I know what you want. The Circus isn’t here any longer, so move along.”
“The Circus is secondary to my concerns right now,” Lunt said harshly. He was too short-tempered to continue feigning politeness. If Murder wanted to do this the hard way, he was more than ready to meet him blow for blow. “I want Die Glocke. Turn it over to me, and any plans you’ve made for reverse engineering it.”
Murder stood up tall, looking down at Lunt with his teeth showing. “Or what?”
“Or my men here will shoot you so full of holes that you’ll look like Swiss cheese.”
“Bold talk, considering you’re outnumbered.”
Lunt’s eyes flicked about but he only saw the clouds of gas coming from beneath the ground and the shadowy shapes of the buildings within the city. “You must be imagining things,” he answered with false bravado. “You and one gunman against me and four of mine? All the men you might have inside the city won’t do you any good if you’re dead before they get here.”
Murder struck in blur. He shoved Lunt aside with the back of an arm, sending the German tumbling head over heels. By the time Lunt was back in a crouching position, two of his men were dead. Murder had broken the neck of one and tore out the throat of another. The one who had spoken out of turn had his gun out but his shot went wild as Murder grabbed his face with one oversized palm and literally ripped it away. The poor man fell to the ground screaming and Murder turned to the last of Lunt’s henchmen. The fellow saw how the battle was going and wisely chose to turn and run. He would risk The Illuminati’s displeasure.
Lunt muttered in disgust. What had happened to the men and women who used to work for The Illuminati? More and more, they seemed to be disappointments. Then again, he reasoned, his own recent track record wasn’t any more impressive.
Murder was panting, blood dripping from his mouth and hands, when he turned towards Lunt. “You were saying?”
The German hesitated for a moment and then decided that nothing would be gained by losing face at this moment. Either he displayed an appropriate show of strength or he would have no hope of bargaining with Professor Murder. Lunt turned his weapon on the man who had stood with Murder and fired two quick shots. Only one was truly needed, for the first bullet embedded itself directly between the man’s eyes. Lunt then threw himself towards Murder, who seemed momentarily taken aback at the man’s actions. Lunt knew enough about gorilla physiology to know exactly what area of the skull was most vulnerable and he slammed the butt of his revolver in that spot, eliciting a cry of pain from Murder. Lunt pressed on, knowing that any hesitation now would mean his life. He then rammed a fist into Murder’s nose and followed that by pushing the barrel of his pistol straight between the monster’s eyes.