F Wilson - The Dark at the End

“He returns soon with tools.”

“Then we have no time to waste.”

He turned and jammed the Taser against Szeto’s neck.

Jack figured the shock on Szeto’s face had to mirror his own as the man’s muscles turned to overcooked spaghetti and he dropped to the floor. Jack watched him twitch, then looked at Drexler standing over him.

He knew he had a bad concussion. Did hallucinations go with it? If so, this was a doozy.

“All right. I give up. What was that all about? Not that I’m protesting or anything.”

Drexler-Jack had to assume he was real-said nothing as he pulled a jackknife from his pocket, opened it, and cut the duct tape fastening Jack’s right wrist to the chair. As Jack pulled it free, he handed him the knife.

“Finish yourself.”

Jack went to work on his other wrist and realized his right shoulder hurt like hell. What had happened to it? But more important…

“What’s going down here?”

Drexler didn’t answer. Instead, he zapped Szeto again, then reached inside the man’s leather coat. He removed the Tokarev and held it up, staring at the suppressor.

“Perfect.”

He stepped back and pointed it at Szeto. The pistol went phut-phut as Drexler, with about as much ceremony as a carpenter tacking up wallboard, double-tapped the supine man in the forehead.

“Jeez,” Jack whispered.

He finished freeing his left wrist and hurried on to his ankles. He didn’t know what was playing out here but wanted all his limbs available for the next act.

Drexler turned and raised the Tokarev toward him. Jack was already making a move to deflect the barrel when Drexler flipped it so the grip was turned his way.

“Take this and hide it and be ready to use it.”

“What?”

He opened the door and called out in what sounded like German. “ Sie zwei! Schnell kommen! ”

Some hurried footsteps and then the Katzenjammers arrived. They gasped, “Kristof!” in unison when they saw their boss.

A lot of things began happening at once. Drexler was behind the Germans. He slipped out the door and closed it behind him as they went for their weapons. They were facing Jack, half a dozen feet away. Raising and extending his arm reduced the range to four feet. He shot each once in the chest. He didn’t know what sort of ammo Szeto had loaded, but it proved damn effective. The lights instantly went out in the Katzenjammers’ eyes and they hit the floor in unison.

Drexler came back through the door and held out his hand for the pistol. But Jack wasn’t about to give it up. He pointed it at Drexler.

“For like the third or fourth time: What’s this all about?”

“I’ll explain later.” He snapped his fingers. “Come-come. I want to be out of here before Thompson returns.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

Thompson had been so into the prospect of torturing him. Be kind of fun to see his face when he walked in with his tools and learned the tables had been turned.

“It’s important. Please.”

Drexler saying please… Jack would have thought the word long expunged from his vocabulary.

Fact: He’d already had plenty of opportunities to shoot Jack but hadn’t. Still…

“Back up.”

When Drexler complied, Jack quickly finished cutting the tape on his ankles, then rose. The room did a spin and he thought he’d either hurl, collapse, or both, but he locked his throat against a surge of bile and widened his stance. Room and stomach settled.

Moving carefully, he stepped over to where his Glock and backup lay on the floor. Only after he’d reclaimed them did he hand back the Tokarev.

Drexler turned and, keeping his distance, administered a coup de grace to Hans and Fritz, or whatever their names were. Then he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped down the pistol. He dropped it on Szeto’s belly and turned to Jack.

“We have no time to waste.” He pointed to the chair Jack had just vacated. “Help me remove this tape, then we’ll go. I’ll explain outside.”

As much as Jack wanted to wait for Thompson, he wanted that explanation more.

“I’m sure you’re thoroughly confused and have a million questions,” Drexler said. “But I can answer them all with one simple statement.”

They stood in a shadowed, recessed doorway across the street from the loft building, watching the entrance. The fresh cold air was like a tonic for Jack. The nausea had receded and his head felt clearer.

“Hit me.”

“I wish to prevent the Change.”

Jack almost laughed. “As the saying goes, ‘I may have been born at night, but not last night.’”

“I don’t understand.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“I was hoping that what just transpired in that loft would add credence to my statement.”

Jack digested that, looking for the angle.

Rasalom knew Glaeken was powerless, leaving only the Lady blocking his path to the Change. He knew too that Jack was the Heir. So how could Drexler’s approaching him with this off-the-wall change of heart work to Rasalom’s advantage?

Jack couldn’t see the trip wire-at least not yet.

Nor could he see how this could have been set up. No one had known he’d be visiting Drexler tonight. No time to set up a big-store type scam like this. Especially since it involved the deaths of three members of the Order, including Drexler’s right-hand man.

“Let’s just say I buy that. Why?”

“That is not something I care to discuss. Take it or leave it.”

Wait… something Szeto had said tonight…

I answer only to the One. In fact, soon I may be Drexler’s master.

Was a palace coup in the offing? Or threatened? Was that why Drexler had executed Szeto?

Jack tried to read Drexler’s expression in the shadows as he replied.

“You think the One is going to abandon you when the Change comes. Is that it?”

Drexler didn’t react. “I repeat: I want to stop the Change. Take it or leave it.”

“You think killing off the Order’s enforcers is the way to do that?”

“The only way I know to stop the Change is to stop the One. You told me tonight that you are set on doing that. Therefore our goals are confluent. I will help you make the attempt.”

Jack shook his head. “‘Attempt.’ Not exactly a vote of confidence.”

“I am nothing if not a realist and a pragmatist. And you… you are not a fool. You must know you face a daunting challenge.”

Jack sighed. “Yeah. I do. But if I find him, I’m gonna hit him with everything.”

“You must. It must be your personal Armageddon.”

“But the key word is find. If I can’t find him, I can’t take him out. You’ve no idea where he is?”

Drexler shook his head. “None. But I haven’t been looking. That changes as of tonight. I will work with you. Only you. No one must know of my involvement. Are we agreed?”

Jack hesitated. This was the weirdest damn turn of events. Working with Ernst Drexler against the One. Surreal. So surreal, he couldn’t fully buy into it. Blagden seemed a dead end. Rasalom and the Order were connected, so tapping into the Order’s datastream seemed a good way to go.

But he’d keep one eye looking over his shoulder.

Jack extended his hand. “Agreed.”

They shook.

Drexler looked about to say something when his gaze fixed over Jack’s shoulder.

“There he is.”

Jack turned and saw Hank Thompson fast-walking along the sidewalk, carrying a paper bag. Containing an X-Acto knife, perhaps? To remove a man’s eyelids?

Jack fought the urge to start after him… and failed. But Drexler grabbed his arm as he stepped from the doorway.

“No. I have need of him.”

Jack stepped back.