X-37 Claws of the Corpse Cult by Brant House

Author:Brant House
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VI

Drugged

"Don't move—any of you!" X warned, his voice becoming hard. "Dal Rama, you will tell me who the white man was who entered this room several minutes ago—the man you addressed as sahib. And you will tell me his name immediately. Otherwise, it shall be my duty to kill you."

"I have no fear of death," said Dal Rama mildly. "Had I such fear, I would not be able to tell you the name of the sahib, for I do not know. Kill me if you will, but do not imagine that you can escape death."

One of the dacoits moved, flicked a knife from his waist and threw it with lightninglike motion. The Agent's gun swerved, barked again, and at the same time his left arm shot out to brush Janet behind him. The knife-man slumped on the floor, for the Agent's slug had mashed his shin bone.

A warning cry from Janet, and X whirled around to bring his gun up in a blue blur that culminated in a blow to the side of a Hindu's face. But the instant he had taken his eyes from Dal Rama, the tall Hindu landed on X's back, his long legs wrapping about the Agent's legs to trip him and bring him to the floor. As X hit the floor, breath exploded from his lungs, his small gun slid from his fingers and along the floor.

As he fought to break the stranglehold the Hindu had upon his throat, X heard a cascading sound of running, tumbling footsteps on the stairs, glimpsed out of the corners of his eyes the drunken mob from the cafe above. Drunken women shrilled screams of delight. A shout went up from the sailors: "It's anybody's fight!" Another man cried, "Bust the heads of the damned foreigners!" and at the same time seized Dal Rama by the collar and yanked him from Agent X.

But this man was evidently no ally of the Agent's, for as X got to his knees, he tried a wild blow to X's jaw. But X jerked his head aside, felt the fist fan his cheek, came up under a shower of blows, and wormed in with a short, chopping blow to the unguarded side of the man's head.

X reeled out of the way as another man lurched in to take the place of the one he had just dropped. Across the room, he saw Janet in the arms of the drunken cockney who called himself Pudge Mason. X charged across the room, yanking a sailor from his path. His right hand dropped on Mason's shoulder and pulled the man away from the girl.

Mason wheeled, cried hoarsely: "Yah bloomin' swell—" Then, with fists swinging, he staggered straight into a left and right from the Agent that stretched him on the flooring.

X seized Janet's arm, pulled her through the excited crowd of dance-hall girls clustered about the stairs. He hurried her up the steps, through the cafe, and out the front door where Barry Lane's car awaited them.

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