Destroyer 044 by Balance Of power

Author:Balance Of power
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

When Gloria X entered her house in East Harlem, Malcolm was not at the door to greet

her. He was inside, at the base of the stairwell, his neck broken so that Ms head joined his

massive body at a perfect right angle. Surrounding him and leading up

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the stairs were the corpses of six other Peaches of Mecca, their arms and legs splayed over the steps like broken

dolls, their blue-edged knives glinting beside them.

Silently, she pulled a small revolver out of her pursue and followed the trail of bodies up to

her bedroom.

The door was open. She listened. Nothing. Slowly she stepped inside, her revolver steady in

her outstretched hand, positioned low for firing.

There was no one in the room. She circled it once, careful to keep one eye on the

doorway. No one. Not a sound.

Then he came through the window as suddenly as a breeze, and the gun left her hand and

soared out of reach as Remo clasped her wrists together behind her with one hand and held

her throat with the other.

"Where is he," he said quietly. "I haven't got much time."

She closed her eyes with a shudder. Remo squeezed. "Barney Daniels," he said,

pressing the veins in her. neck. "I know you've sent him out to kill Calder Raisin. Where are

they?"

"I don't know who you're talking about," she said levelly. "I never heard of him. And I

don't know anything about Cald-"

Remo's grip tightened until her eyes bulged. "You have three seconds," he said. Her

tongue began to ease out of her mouth, encircled by white foam.

"One," Remo said. "If you faint first, I'll kill you anyway. "Two."

"At the pier," she croaked. Remo softened the pressure slightly. "The abandoned pier at

Battery Park, near the Staten Island Ferry."

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"Good girl." Remo took his hand away and threw her into a corner of the room as if he were tossing a wet washrag.

She spun around on her knees. Crouched on all fours, she raised her head and laughed like

a mad dog, her hate-filled eyes glistening. "You'll be too late," she spat, her voice still

gravelly. "Raisin's dead by now. And so's your friend."

"Then I'll be back," Remo said coldly.

He found Raisin first, crumpled in a heap with his head bashed into bloody mush. On the

pier, the silhouette of Daniels's body, doubled over, stood out starkly against the horizon.

There was an odd smell about him as Remo rolled him over to look at the knife wounds

in his back. A familiar smell, but faint in the musky night air of the waterfront.

Remo held two fingers to Barney's temple. The weakest trace of a pulse remained.

Then he spotted the knife. Still holding Barney, he picked it up. Toward the base of the

blade a blue stain shone in the moonlight. Remo lifted it near his face.

Curare. That was the blue on the knives of the well-dressed black men around Gloria's

house. This was the scent they carried.

The pulse was fading fast. Too late for a doctor. Too late for anything now. "Looks like

your last binge, sweetheart," Remo said to the unconscious form in his arms.

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