Assignment- Death Ship by Will B. Aarons

Author:Will B. Aarons [Aarons, Will B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mass Market
Published: 2013-06-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Durell wasn’t worried about Bernhard Caske. Zinger and Dumid were the problem—-they'd come storming through the door any second. Ignoring the sprawled industrialist, he lunged to head them off.

The crewcut Zinger was first, slamming the door back into the wall as he burst in, pawing for his gun.

Beating him by a second, Durell crashed the butt of his revolver into the angle at the man’s thick neck and shoulder. Zinger fell headlong, smashing down like a shot buffalo, and Dumid charged in behind him. flailing for Durell with both hands. In a move that was cool and quick Durell caught an arm and cartwheeled him into a wall of books.

Dumid hit the floor, leather-bound volumes cascading around him. He scrambled up, but Durell kicked him in the side of the head, and he sank back and lay still.

“What are you doing!”

His eyes found Muncie rushing in, shocked and angry.

Caske still lay on the floor, hands clasped over his bald head. “He’s a madman!” he roared.

“On your feet.” Durell toed him. “Hurry.”

The man did as he was told, glancing unhappily at his fallen bodyguards. Muncie closed the door abruptly, suddenly aware of how this would look to anyone passing by.

“You haven’t a chance of getting away with this,” Caske declared.

“So far, so good,” Durell replied.

Muncie’s face was grim. “You’ve done it now,” she said.

“Get your coat.”

“Don’t help him, I’m warning you,” Caske threatened.

“Out the french doors,” Durell told him. To Muncie: “You know the way to the car?”

“I think I can find it.” She seemed in a daze.

He pushed Caske ahead. “Move!”

Caske went out. “You’ll spend the rest of your days in jail,” he snarled.

On the patio the air was cold; snow fell through light that shone from the windows of the building. Beyond floated a liquid darkness. Muncie led, then Caske; Durell brought up the rear, his gun aimed at the man’s back. A wet glow shone from the skin of Caske’s bald head.

The air smelled clean. Cars made a rushing sound along the invisible highway.

Durell glanced back, and saw nothing to indicate that an alarm had been sounded. He hoped to depart peacefully; his quarrel was with Caske, not his employees.

He didn’t care to think what might happen to him if he failed now. Life in jail—even a Swiss jail—wasn’t pleasant to contemplate.

“Muncie?” he called, seeing the snow-streaked lighting of the parking lot. “Go bring the car here. The less we promenade Mr. Caske, the better.”

“My people will find you,” Caske said, glowering.

“Why not the police? Or can’t your operations stand the scrutiny?” Durell watched Muncie go, his gun held casually.

“I have no fear of the police. Nor do I need them, Herr Durell. You’ll see.”

Durell glanced over his shoulder: still no pursuit. He couldn’t expect Zinger and Dumid to stay out cold all night. Where was Muncie? He peered past Caske, whose black overcoat was becoming encrusted with snow. What if she’d turned on him? What if she had been the one who took those photos on the island? If so, the question was why.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.