David Robbins - The Kalispell Run

Napoleon stopped his pacing. “Progress,” he stated somberly, “demands sacrifice. Study your history.”

“Rikki won’t be easy,” Spartacus said, nitpicking.

“You said the same thing about Hickok,” Napoleon noted. “Believe me, they’re only men, just like us. They’re no harder to kill than anyone else.

Don’t worry about Rikki. We’re going to get some assistance there. We may not even need the assassin alibi.”

“What type of assistance?” Seiko curiously inquired.

“The newcomer Tyson,” Napoleon answered. “I’ll explain once I’m certain we can count on him.”

Tyson? Involved with this horrible plot? Cindy couldn’t believe her own ears! She wanted to jump up and run, to race to Rikki and reveal all the sordid details, but she held herself in check. Napoleon would probably murder her on the spot. Besides, if Tyson were somehow caught up in this scheme, she had to learn to what extent and how best to extricate him before he found himself in serious trouble.

“I guess I’ll just have to trust you,” Spartacus was stating. “You can count me in.”

“Good!” Napoleon almost leaped for joy. At long, long last! The fruition of his cherished ambition was within his grasp! To become Family Leader was a necessary goal, but it was only the first step in his grand design.

Thanks to the information supplied by the Alpha Triad, he knew the Family possessed more raw firepower than most other groups and occupied communities. If directed by a capable military mind, the Family’s arsenal could be utilized most effectively in subduing any opposition. The Watchers might pose a problem, but Napoleon suspected they might be amenable to a mutually beneficial truce. If the Watchers hadn’t wiped out the Family by now, there could only be one logical reason; they simply weren’t strong enough to conquer the Family in pitched warfare. The Watchers would welcome a treaty of peace, and leave him free to prosecute his strategy for reorganizing the pitiful remnants of society still functioning in a world scarred by a nuclear holocaust. What the world needed was someone with vision, someone capable of recharting the course human destiny should take.

Someone, Napoleon knew, like himself.

As he so often did, Napoleon grinned at the thought of his pet motto, one conceived during his turbulent teen years after he had repeatedly approached the Family Elders with his concepts for improving Family life and after his grandoise ideas had been constantly rejected. Today the Family, tomorrow the world!

He abruptly became conscious, wishing he hadn’t. His head was sore, his temples throbbing. He had the impression of being carried. And, somewhere close, someone was whistling.

Whistling?

Blade opened his eyes and squinted in the morning sun. He realized his arms were tied behind his back.

“Welcome back, yes? Sleep good, no?”

His assailant was effortlessly toting him across a barren field, one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulders.

“Put me down!” Blade ordered.

The creature chuckled. “You make Gremlin laugh.”

Blade took stock of his situation. His weapons were gone. “Where are my Bowies?” he demanded. “And my revolver and the Auto-Ordnance?”

“Not needed, no. Left behind,” the thing replied.

Damn! Unarmed, in hostile territory, and a prisoner. This day was definitely not getting off to a good start. “What if we are attacked?” Blade questioned his captor.

“Not worry, no. Gremlin protect,” the creature responded.

“I take it your name is Gremlin?” Blade probed.

The thing actually grinned. “You smart, yes?”

Blade realized the creature had a sense of humor. What else? It was incredibly strong and fast, obviously intelligent. So many questions flashed through his mind. Where to begin? “Why do you talk the way you do?”

“Know brain, yes?” Gremlin countered Blade’s query with one of his own.

“Do I know the brain?” Blade repeated. “A little bit. Anatomy wasn’t my primary study, but we had to learn the nervous system, pressure points, kill zones, and the like. Why?”

Gremlin glanced at Blade and frowned. “Warrior training, yes?”

Blade involuntarily attempted to straighten, surprised at the creature’s knowledge of his Family status.

Gremlin stopped and looked around. A patch of grass to their right arrested his attention, and he crossed to the roughly circular area and gently deposited Blade on the ground. “We stop, yes? Walked all night.”

He remained standing, alert for any potential threats.

“How do you know I’m a Warrior?” Blade demanded, perplexed.

“Doktor tell, yes?” Gremlin answered.

“Who is this Doktor? You mentioned him before,” Blade noted.

“You meet soon, yes?” Gremlin chuckled. “Wish you hadn’t.”

“Well,” Blade pressed the creature, “how does this Doktor know so much about me?”

“Doktor know everything,” Gremlin informed him.

“But how?” Blade asked.

“Learn soon, yes,” Gremlin replied.

This was getting him nowhere! Blade returned to his original question.

“You still haven’t told me why you talk the way you do. Does it have something to do with the brain?”

Gremlin’s features seemed to soften, to sadden. He nodded. “Brain control words, yes? Part of brain kaput!”

“Part of your brain has been damaged?” Blade requested clarification.

Gremlin shook his head, one corner of his mouth slanted downward.

“Damaged, no. Gone, yes.”

“How could part of your brain be gone?” Blade asked skeptically.

Gremlin’s jaw muscles tightened. “Doktor.”

Blade struggled to a sitting position. “The Doktor removed part of your brain? Why?”

Gremlin avoided looking into Blade’s eyes. “Experiment.”

Blade’s mind was racing. What was going on here? What type of physician experimented on the brains of… Wait a minute! Inspiration struck. “Gremlin, what are you? Where are you from?”

“From, Doktor, yes? Understand, no?” Gremlin angrily glared at Blade.

“Enough talk, yes? Rest!”

“Just answer one more thing for me,” Blade said, taking advantage of the creature’s loquacity and apparent friendliness. “You could have killed me and didn’t. You said I would meet this Doktor soon. Is that where you’re taking me? To the Doktor?”

Gremlin nodded. “Doktor say take alive, yes?”

“Where is the Doktor, Gremlin?”

The creature pointed to the southeast. “Citadel.”

“You’re taking me to the Cheyenne Citadel?”

Again, Gremlin nodded.

No! He couldn’t allow it to happen! He had to get back to Geronimo and the SEAL.

“Rest!” Gremlin ordered.

“One more question,” Blade said, refusing to comply. “You said this Doktor knows everything, that he knows I’m a Warrior. How could…”

Blade paused, his memory stirring. Deja vu. When Alpha Triad had made the run to Thief River Falls and fought with the mysterious Watchers, they had learned that the Watchers evidently knew all about the Family and the Warriors. For weeks afterward, they had engaged in futile speculation, debating possible methods the Watchers could have employed to gain their familiarity with the Family. Was there a spy in the Family? Were the Watchers mind-readers?

Was the answer staring him in the face? Was there a connection, Blade wondered, between the good Doktor and the Watchers? Only one way to find out.

“Gremlin.” Blade nudged the creature’s left ankle with his right moccasin. “Have you ever heard of the Watchers?”

Gremlin grinned at his prisoner. “Yes.”

“Are the Watchers and the Doktor related in any way?” Blade inquired hopefully.