F. Paul Wilson - All the Rage

Immediately something made him want to snatch them back, pushed him to reach for them. What—was he crazy, giving his money and beloved weapons to this woman?

Forced himself to step back, to grit out words, "Something's wrong. Take these. Gotta go. Explain later."

She stared at him wide-eyed with fright and confusion. "What—?"

Didn't dare risk another word, another second here. Hanging onto control by his fingertips, could feel it wriggling away from him. Could maintain this grip only so long before it slipped away again. Wanted—needed—to be as far as possible from here when it did. Turned and ran out the door.

4

"Let's go," Vuk said, reaching into his coat.

Ivo shook his head. He didn't want to do this. "Wait a bit. Maybe he'll come out."

They'd parked in a BMW 750iL up the gentle slope of Fifty-eighth Street from where they had a narrow-angle view of the door. A purely residential block. Not a single store and few pedestrians. They'd been here only a few minutes when they saw their man arrive on foot and enter the town house.

"And maybe he won't." Vuk took out his pistol, his tried-and-true 7.62mm M57 semiautomatic, and checked the action. "You heard what Dragovic said. If we see him, we take him and bring him in."

Ivo licked his dry lips. "The woman and child might be there."

"Hope so." He checked his bleached hair in the rear-view mirror. "She's a beauty."

Ivo's palms were slick against the steering wheel. He'd sworn that his days of killing noncombatants were over. Vuk didn't care. Ivo doubted Vuk had ever given a second thought to what he'd done in Kosovo. He had to find a way to delay this.

"We need silencers," he said, grasping at the first idea to dart through his head. "Even a single shot in a neighborhood like this will bring the police."

"We'll have to risk it." Vuk reached for the door. "If we move fast enough, it won't matter."

Ivo grabbed his arm. "Wait."

He was trying desperately to think of something to say when movement by the town house caught his eye. The man was out again, almost running from the door.

"There he is!" he said, hoping the gush of relief was not apparent in his voice. "Moving fast."

"Don't let him out of your sight."

Ivo started the car and reached for the shift, then stopped. "He's coming this way."

The man broke into a jog as he crossed Sutton Place and started up the sidewalk.

"Coming right to us," Vuk said with a grin. "Perfect."

Ivo left the car in park and studied the approaching man. This was the first time he'd had a chance to see him since their brief encounter on the beach last week, and he looked… different. His expression was strange, somewhere between panic and rage. But his eyes… they'd been so mild last week. Now they were wild.

"Ready," Vuk said. The man would pass on his side. "You move when I do."

Ivo checked the street. Light traffic, only one or two pedestrians and none close by. When the man came to within a car length of their vehicle, Vuk opened his door. Ivo jumped out on the street side, drawing his own weapon, a FEG FP9, holding it low as he came around the rear bumper. He didn't chamber a round until Vuk had his weapon pointed at the man's chest.

"Into the car!" Vuk said.

Ivo pulled open the rear door with his free hand as the man skidded to a halt.

"What?" the man said.

"You heard!" Vuk said, gesturing with his pistol.

"You're the jerks from the beach. What are you doing in my city?"

"In!" Vuk lowered his barrel and pointed it at the man's legs. "Inside or I shoot your knees and drag you in."

The man's wild eyes darted from Vuk's gun to the one in Ivo's hand, then back again. No fear there or in his expression, just a brief baring of the teeth, very much like a snarl as he moved toward the open door. Ivo glanced around as he stepped back to let him in. No one was paying them any attention. Yet.

"Stop right there," Vuk said. He did a quick pat-down and grinned at Ivo when he found the empty SOB holster. "I think we have our man." To the man: "Where is your gun?"

"Home."

"Good place for it." Vuk shoved the man into the seat on the passenger side. "Do not move a muscle."

Ivo covered him while Vuk ran around to the other side and got in. He sat in the rear, facing their captive, while Ivo returned to the driver seat. Safe behind the wheel again, he let loose a breath he'd been holding. No one had noticed them. The whole operation had taken perhaps thirty seconds.

"So," Vuk said as Ivo pulled from the parking space, "you are man who wrecked our cars, yes?"

"Your cars?" the man said. "If you bring a car into my city, it's my car."

"Who are you?"

"You know very well who I am. I am Moreau. Dr . Moreau. Dr. Jack Moreau. I created you."

Something wrong here, Ivo thought. The man on the beach didn't talk crazy like this.

He adjusted the rearview mirror. The brown eyes flashed toward him, strangely glittering eyes. The eyes of a madman. Fear began to nibble at Ivo's gut. He felt like someone who had set a possum trap and wound up with a bear.

What have we let into our car?

"So it was you," Vuk said.

The man was shaking his head. "The beast flesh… the stubborn beast flesh creeping back."

"Stop talking like fool. First you make fool of our boss, then you try to make fool of my friend Ivo and me too, yes?"

The traffic light on Sutton Place turned green as Ivo approached. He made a right and stopped at the red at Fifty-seventh.

"Ivo?" the man said to Vuk. "What kind of name is that? I didn't name him that when I created him from a dog. And you. I created you from a donkey, I think. An ass. But I did not give you that hair color. And why would I try to make a fool out of you when you do such a good job of it by trying to look like a carrot? Don't you own a mirror?"

Ivo could hear the strain in Vuk's voice. "I can shoot off your knees now, but that would mean I have to carry you inside to speak to our boss, and later I have to clean up the mess. But once we are inside, the boss will want you to speak, and I will be very happy to be one to make sure you tell everything he wish to know."

Ivo crossed Fifty-seventh, keeping as much of a watch in his rearview as he did through the windshield.

"You would do well not to anger me by breaking the Law," the man said. "You remember the Law, don't you? Are you not men? Has the stubborn beast flesh crept back so far that you've forgotten the law? Break the Law and it's off to the House of Pain with you. I told you: I am Moreau."

"You are no one," Vuk said. "You are nothing. But you somehow manage to find yourself a fine-looking woman. Do you know what will happen after our boss is through with you? Ivo and I are going to come back and pay little visit to your woman. We are going to fuck her."

What is Vuk doing? Ivo wondered, anxiety building like a pressure in his chest. Why is he taunting him? Doesn't he see the man's eyes? Can't he tell that he's completely insane?

And an insane man is capable of anything.

As Ivo turned onto Fifty-fifth he said, "I think that's enough for now."

"No, Ivo. Not nearly enough. I want him to know how we will take turns with his woman and how she will love it because she has never had real man before. And then perhaps we move on to little girl."

Ivo felt the air within the car thicken, become charged, as if lightning were readying a strike.

"Vuk, please!"

"Vuk?" The man laughed. "That's a name? Sounds like someone puking. But I guess it goes with the rest of you, donkey-man. Dumb name, dumb hair, dumb ass."

Ivo sensed sudden movement behind him and knew, just knew that Vuk was swinging his pistol at the man's face. And he saw the burst of triumph in the captive's eyes that said this was just what he had been waiting for.