(eng) M. R. Forbes - Ghosts & Magic 02 by Dead Red

Author:Dead Red [Red, Dead]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-THREE

The necro and the Jin, redux.

I left the hotel with Amos at four in the morning, giving Prithi a long hug goodbye, and promising I would do my best to not die. Amos got his comments in, and then drew back in shock when she hugged him, too. I guess she could see past his loud, obnoxious bullshit, to the soul underneath.

I needed to believe he had one because I needed to be able to trust him.

For him to know what Black wanted to do, and go against it? It betrayed that outward racist machismo as completely as anything I could think of.

What we knew about Jin's morning ritual was that she would get into the limo at approximately 5:10 am, at which point it would head north along the Strip. Based on the stoplight timings at that hour, it would take about seven minutes before they would make a left onto Siren's Cove Blvd, and then a right onto Mel Torme Way. The cameras cut out on Spring Mountain Road, but Prithi had detailed all the maps, and I knew that they could easily pick up I-15 from there. Which direction on I-15? There was no way to know.

That was why we had to make our move before they got to the interstate.

The stronger magical fields, the extra meds, and Carl were my recipe for hopeful success.

Everything else depended on timing and luck.

A lot of luck.

"This is the stupidest fucking idea I've ever fucking heard," Amos said. It had to be the fiftieth time he'd said it.

"Black is too smart to fall for a good plan," I replied. "Maybe it's so bad it might work."

"You better hope so, Baldie."

I was on my stomach behind one of the roll-up loading bay doors at the rear of Treasure Island, doing our best to stay out of view of the road. I'd already picked the lock on the doors and managed to disable the camera that had the best view of it, though I'd intentionally let myself be visible darting across the eye's field for a few seconds, in case Sandman was keeping an eye on things.

Amos was standing next to the door, refusing to lay down, and unable to see out without putting too much space and light under the door and into the street. He had one of the assault rifles we'd taken from the kill team at the mansion cradled in his arms, and a pair of handguns shoved below his stomach. His trench was hanging open, and his shirt had ridden up a little, leaving him looking like a cross between an old west gunslinger and a contestant at a pie-eating contest.

I checked my watch. It was 5:17, and I expected that the no-doubt bulletproof limo carrying Jin and the two ghosts would be making the first left right about now, or within the next minute. The timing was close across every day Sandman had snapped shots of the excursion, but it wasn't as perfect as I would have wanted.

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