The Unkindest Cut, Part III: Old Habits Die Hard
By C. Mage
David Connors got out of the car and looked at the name of the Chinese restaurant Kellaway had pointed him to: the Night Heron. He smelled the food cooking inside and his stomach growled. Now this is what I'm talking about. He walked inside and looked around. The interior was extremely traditional in its décor, up to and including the menu. Fortunately, part of David's studies from Lara included lessons in Chinese, both Cantonese and Mandarin. As he read over the menu, he noticed that there was no line and no other customers. He checked his watch.
Though the woman at the cashier smiled as she prepared to take his order, David began to feel that old familiar feeling. The kind of feeling he got when he knew something was not right. Maybe it was that there were no customers at an hour normally associated with people coming home from work and picking up take-out. Maybe it was the two men who mopped the floor whose eyes fell more on him than on the floor. Or maybe he'd just been hanging out with Lara for too long and expected things to jump out at him.
One thing was certain. Something was seriously not right.
David kept the dumb-American smile on his face. "Yeah, uh…you got a menu in English I can look at?"
The woman looked at him and said cheerfully in Chinese, "You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?"
David shook his head. "Sorry, I don't speak Chinese," he said in English.
"We going to kill you, foreigner. We going to skin you and hang you up like the chickens," she continued in Chinese, nodding and smiling.
"Uhm…I'm sorry, maybe, uh…" David looked to his sides, then pointed up at the menu. "Which one of those is sweet & sour pork?"
"You really are stupid, aren't you?" the woman chuckled, laughing and smiling as the two men drew the handles out of the mops, revealing the sharpened spikes.
David started laughing a little, then looked up and caught a glimpse of movement in the partially reflective plexiglass protecting the menu. He nodded, then spun around quickly, reaching out for the spear that came at his neck. He grasped it and pulled, causing the wielder to overcompensate and fall forward. As he tried to recover, David rammed the blunt end of the handle down like a pile driver, banging the man's forehead against the floor. David was already moving, the second spear stabbing at his throat and missing as David arched his back, then spun around. His spear sliced across the man's forehead, distracting him with pain and blood flowing from the cut just above his eyebrows. As the second man pulled back from the pain, David looked to the first assassin. He hadn't been knocked senseless and he was trying to get away from David, regroup, but a swift, hard kick from David's steel-toed cowboy boot took him out nice and pretty.
David looked up to see the second assassin draw back, pulling out two short blades. The killer smiled, then the blood hit his eyes, blinding him. He grimaced, then felt a strange sensation in his forehead. He'd never felt anything like it, then didn't feel anything at all.
The woman behind the counter raised her head, seeing the second assassin lying on his back, the long handle attached to his forehead, and David with a Desert Eagle .50 AE pointed at her left eye. "Now then," David said in flawless Mandarin, "unless you have a reputation for murdering your patrons, which I doubt, someone put you up to this. Give me a name."
"I can't! He'll kill me if I tell you," she said, the arrogance gone from her voice.
David shook his head. "Don't worry about him…worry about me," he said, pulling back the hammer of the Desert Eagle. "I'm going to give you until the count of ten. If I don't hear the name…and I'll know if it's the right one…you are going to have to explain to your ancestors why you're dead. And family reunions can be Hell."
She looked into his eyes. "Are you going to kill him?"
"Who is he?!"
The woman looked David in the eyes. "You can't kill him. He's in league with the Devil." Then she stiffened and fell, the knife she'd placed into her own chest standing erect like the spear imbedded in the second assassin's head.
David looked at her, not liking the idea of someone who could inspire suicidal tendencies over betrayal. He walked out of the restaurant, then stopped and walked back in, flipping the "OPEN" sign over to show "CLOSED", then heading back to his car as casually as he could. What the hell is going on? Why did Kellaway…?"
Then it hit him. The answer to it all was staring him in the face.
"Holy CRAP!"
Lara got out of the car at the address Kellaway had given her, holding the files from the precinct. She'd made sure to keep the files complete. After all, it wouldn't do for the files to leak to the press. It didn't occur to her how that might happen, but Kellaway was a police officer. He knew better than she did about how that might happen.
Deep in the back of her mind was a nagging feeling. It made her frown as she walked up to the door of the building. Why did he ask me to come here? This isn't exactly the best part of town. Is he showing me a crime scene? Lara considered calling David to ask his advice, but something kept her from doing that. It was as if something was telling her to put it out of her head, wait until later. However, Lara felt more and more worried as she opened the door. She walked into the building and looked around her. At first, she thought she'd entered an apartment complex, but as she walked towards the light ahead, she realized she was in some sort of factory. An alarm went off in her head and she slowed, but a voice came from everywhere, instructing her, "place the files on the table…sit down in the chair…let's talk…like civilized people…"
As she sat down, her voice became strained. "Kellaway…"
Kellaway came into view, wearing a leather smock over his clothes, smiling. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here this evening."
"What game are you playing at? What are you doing here?"
"Funny you should ask. Tell me, Lady Croft, about your family history. More to the point, what James Croft III was around the year 1899."
"What has that got to do with anything?"
"Oh, it has everything to do with this. Your father never mentioned his great-grandfather's favored vocation, did he? James Croft was no captain of industry, no dilettante. He was a pugilist, a boxer, one of the most primitive kinds of men. Not satisfied with entering a ring and having his face beat into a barely recognizable mass, he often 'trained' against criminals on the streets of London. That's right, Lady Croft. Some nobility." He walked a few steps closer to the edge of the table. "Let me tell you about a very special night…December 17th, 1899. Gloriously chill, it made me feel truly alive, particularly since I'd only existed as a minor imp until the night Zachary Kellaway and I found each other. On the eve of the new century, I was to dine like never before upon the trophies of my kills. Oh, the care I'd taken to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. Organs of only the right size and texture, kept intact and ready for a feast not soon forgotten. I was ready to receive the very last part…dessert…when I came upon a lovely young woman. Dressed as they all did on the street, ready to give themselves to whoever or whatever passed them by. I invited her to my house, paid her enough to calm and allay her fears, was ready to take her when he appeared. He came along, just when I was overpowering the little bitch. He thought me a simple rapist. ME! Why would I even touch one of those filthy little tramps..."
"Perhaps to dine on their flesh like a vulture?" Lara offered in a parody of helpfulness.
"He walked towards me, and I thought, 'I had the strength of ten men. This little worm poses no threat to me.' So I tossed the limp body aside and rushed for him. So, there I was, facing down a single, unarmed man. Male blood is so distasteful, so I decided to make an example of him, drawing my pistol and pointed it at him. I was prepared to send him to the afterlife when fate dealt me a mortal blow." He grimaced at her, and Lara guessed the rest.
"Let me guess: he saw you menacing some poor woman, came to her rescue and thrashed you within an inch of your miserable existence."
Kellaway looked at her with a baleful gaze. "You'll pay for that smug satisfaction, Lady. His brutish attack ended me, but while he was taking the young woman back to her home, my life was bleeding away, but the force that drove me sustained me long enough to escape to my home. Through force of will alone, I called upon the darkness to sustain me and to take my revenge. When my strength left me, I fell and the darkness claimed me...and imbued my instrument with my lifeforce."
"Good for James," Lara said, looking around surreptitiously for a means of escape, hoping to keep Kellaway angry just long enough to give her an opportunity.
"Oh, it was very good for him, the lug. Tell me, do you remember the name of James' wife?"
"Of course. It was..."
Kellaway held up a hand. "Let me take...a stab in the dark." He smiled at his little joke. "Jolene?"
"How did you know that?"
"My, my...a family secret. Jolene was the name of the prostitute James rescued." Kellaway smiled at Lara's surprise. "I'm sure it would not have endeared him to the family if others knew the third son of the wealthy and prestigious Croft line soiled their genetics with a common slut."
"That still doesn't mean..."
"Hush, girl. You'll spoil the ending...but then, I suppose you're not comfortable knowing your ancestor spread her legs for half of London." He wheeled over a gurney with a series of surgical tools, syringes with various chemicals, sutures and various pans. "My body was found, and it was assumed that I had been attacked in my home. No one dug under the garden to see my other victims. And so my belongings were sent to curio shops and other places, scattered...and I had years to regain my strength and plan my revenge. I gained in power, my fury without measure. I sensed time passing, and then, one day, I came into the hands of someone very important to me. Curious to know what my original name was, Lady?" He stood in front of her, looking down at her. "Dr. Zachary...Kellaway."
Lara didn't answer, looking up at Kellaway accusingly.
"I was found by a child looking through a lot where my place used to stand, burned flat by a fire. He found the knife where it had fallen. His seven-year old mind was no match for my superior will and intellect, and the line that continued on as I slept opened its arms to receive me once again. I easily molded his mind to suit me, and I used my knowledge of the world to have him excel in classes. I bided my time, waiting for the righ moment. You cannot imagine the will it took as I watched the female members of the human race degenerate into the basest of creatures, rutting like pigs, dressing in shameful clothing. But my mind is superior, Lady Croft. And soon, so will my body. I learned much as a doctor when my original body was alive. Thanks to the advances made in my absence and the resources made available to me, not to mention the knowledge from other great men who so generously offered me their knowledge, I was able to perfect my greatest works." He picked up a tray of syringes, each one with a different color fluid within.
Lara stared at the needles. "What are those? Drugs to keep me compliant?"
Kellaway smiled. "You don't understand, but then how could you?" He tapped his head. "Inside this skull lies the mind of a super-genius. Witness medical miracles in action." He picked up one with red fluid within. "This chemical will enable your brain to stay alive for days without requiring blood or other nutrients. Quite the cure for many mental diseases caused by decrepitude. The blue one will slow your body's processes. Once I remove your organs, it'll ensure the shock doesn't kill you. The green one increases the response time of your nervous system, giving you the chance to experience ten times the pain of what you'd normally experience without it. It would also increase your reflexes. Think what any athlete would pay for such a concoction, not to mention those with nervous disorders. The orange one will paralyze your motor functions, relaxing you, but make you completely aware of what's happening to you. Finally, this one…" He held up a syringe filled with a golden liquid. "This one will endow you with telepathic abilities. It will enable me to mentally watch your responses, even tailor them. After all, you won't be able to scream."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Simplicity itself…I want you to know what worth these formulae would have in the world you know. I want you to know because I want you to be aware when your beloved David shows up. Simply taking you apart and dining upon you is not enough. These chemical compounds, properly marketed, would put an end to countless diseases, as well as the knowledge contained inside my notes. Not to mention the fact that the one who owned those notes would be rich enough to make Bill Gates and Donald Trump look like a pair of paupers. The height of my revenge will be watching your lover have to choose between saving countless millions and becoming a trillionaire…or saving you."
"He MMMMMMPH!!" Lara said as Kellaway pushed a leather ball-gag into her open mouth, strapping it in place.
"He should be here any moment now. Try not to look too disappointed, Lara. You were destined to lose long before you were even born." Kellaway stood up and walked over to a line of monitors, using them to view the world around him. "Now, then, David Connors…where are you?"
David stopped outside the factory and looked around. He knew he was being watched as soon as he drove up the street. He could feel it. He also knew that Lara was here and what was at stake. He checked his Desert Eagle, then holstered it and walked inside. The factory gave him the creeps, reminding him far too much of a certain video game he'd played before. This is what I get for playing DOOM 3. He shook his head and moved inside.
The path leading to the center of the factory led past active machinery, hissing hydraulics, even a smelter idling with molten metal bubbling inside. "Geez, Kellaway…Dr. Frankenstein called, he wants his lab back…"
He turned a corner and there she was. Lara was strapped down on an operating table, a sheet covering her body, a ball-gag in her mouth. She looked up as David came into view and shook her head.
"LARA! Hang on, I'll get you out of there!"
"I don't think so, Mr. Connors!" David stopped as he saw Kellaway standing on a high platform, pointing a gun down at Lara. "I advise you to drop your gun, David. Can I call you David?"
"Only if I get to call you 'Jack'…" He considered going for his gun.
"Well, well…how smart you are. But not smart enough, Mr. Connors. The only reason you have found yourself here is because I led you here. If I desired, you wouldn't have the slightest clue where to find me or Lara."
"Don't bother blowing your own horn, Jack. I knew where to find you without you spreading clues all over the damn place. Of course, none of them believed me when I told them."
"Of course not. All the clues I left were merely circumstantial, not nearly enough to convince the city's finest I was the one they'd been looking for all this time. Idiots…but then, all are morons compared to me." He pressed a button and the platform descended. "Now drop the gun. Left hand, thumb and forefinger."
David fumed, but complied. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"
"Implicitly. Kick it over to me. I may want my revenge, but I want to survive more, and the Croft family has a lot of relatives."
David kicked it over to Jack, his mind whirling.
"Oh, if you could only see your face, David. You're thinking to yourself, 'How can I get an edge over the man holding a gun on me?' Well, at least that's my interpretation. I'm sure I know exactly what you're thinking, only I won't lower myself to say the word, 'duhhh' every five words." Jack smiled.
"So, Jack…you ever get tired of being a pompous ass?"
"If you mean, 'superior being' when you say 'pompous ass,' then no, I don't. Now before your brain implodes from the wasted effort of trying to outsmart me, let me offer you a way out even your dim mind can understand." He walked over to a desk and removed a tarp, revealing a disc wallet. "Do you see this? This wallet contains ten DVD discs loaded with my notes, my research, everything I've complied in my years as a doctor. Encoded on these discs lie the cures and remedies for almost every single serious malady that exists. I even," he added with a satisfied grin, "have the cure for the AIDS virus."
"You're bluffing."
"I'm quite serious. I don't bluff, David Connors. Bluffing would imply an attempt to outsmart you by trickery…and that would be like sandblasting a deviled egg. Every thing I have told you is the truth. I stake my reputation as a doctor upon it."
"So what's your point?"
"So simple, even you can figure it out. You can take those discs and use them to become so wealthy, there won't be a single desire you will be unable to fulfill. Angry with customer service at a retail store? Buy it and fire everyone. No woman, no fantasy will be beyond your grasp. Some actress or model catch your eye? The formula that will turn her into your slave for as long as you wish is also included on those discs. Perhaps you'd like to retire and buy a little island somewhere? Check with the President…maybe he'll sell you Hawaii. Millions upon millions will praise your name for ridding the world of disease, call you a saint, a leader, a god…"
"What's the catch?"
"Ah…right to the point. I admire that. Here's the catch: all you need to do to earn this greatest of treasures is to take those discs and walk out of here right now. Don't look back. Leave Lara to me. Think about it. You look at this as if it was a crime. It's a sacrifice. For the greater good, some people must die. It happens every single day. Think of it. To save the masses, you won't have to sacrifice hundreds, tens or even a few people. All that will die is one person. Lara. And what greater love could there be to give their life so others can live? Surely you can see the benefit of this bargain."
"And if I tell you to shove it?"
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask. Those discs are sitting on top of an explosive charge. My other hand is pressing a switch on a remote. I let go of the remote for any reason, and the discs will be reduced to a fine cloud of powder in an instant. Plus, treachery will be met with serious repercussions, as I am armed…with your gun." He smiled and picked up the Desert Eagle. "I always wondered why you'd need a gun this size. Trying to compensate for something?"
"Yeah. Too many maniacs. What makes you think I haven't called the police on you?"
"This body's reputation as a fine, upstanding officer is beyond reproach, thanks to careful planning. There isn't a judge in the city who'd issue a warrant for me, nor a single policeman who'd set you up with a wire. And if you think you could simply pick up a police radio and set it to transmit what I'm saying, I took the precaution of wiring the area to defeat radio transmissions. Face it, David Connors. I thought of everything. I always do. But why talk of such things? Look before you. The brass ring, or should I say diamond ring, is there, waiting for you to seize it. And I give you my word that should you choose to leave Lara with me, you will indeed prosper, rich beyond the dreams of avarice. You really don't have a choice, you know. And even your dim mind must realize that there is no other way out and no way to implicate me in any of this."
David looked at him, then over at Lara. His face grew hard as he looked back at Jack. "Before I choose, there's a couple of things I want to know."
"Ask quickly. I begin to tire of our conversation."
"Does everything in this factory still work?"
"Yes, they do. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious. Also, I want to see it."
"To see the machinery work?"
"No. I want to see the scalpel of Jack the Ripper."
Jack smiled. "Ahhhh…very well. No tricks, David, you might be able to dodge, but Lara isn't." He took out the scalpel and held it up. "What do you think?"
"As I suspected."
"What do you mean?"
"Doesn't look like much."
Jack smiled and walked closer to him, gun pointed at his face. He put the scalpel along with the other tools for dissection and looked David in the eye. "Only those unintelligent enough to look only at its appearance would say something like that. Now, I have answered you. Now answer me. What is your decision?"
"Well, Jacko, before I answer, I have a confession to make."
"A confession?"
"Yeah…I'm afraid I've been a bad boy. Remember your car?"
"Don't play games with me, David Connors. My car isn't here. I used a rental car to come here."
"I know. Pretty clever, covering your tracks by not using your car. But it is here. I brought it here."
"Brought it? How? I have the keys." His irritation was becoming more and more pronounced.
"Well, you see, that's the thing…"
Suddenly, flashing lights came through the windows of the factory. Jack looked around, then back at David. "That's impossible! You couldn't have convinced them I was the culprit! There's no way you could get them here!"
"Well….not legally." David smiled. "They're not here for you. They're here for me. You see…I stole your car. Did a little reckless driving. Crashed up a police cruiser or two." David smiled. "In fact, any second now, about twenty cops are going to come storming in here, looking for me…but imagine what they'll find…"
Jack looked at David as realization dawned. David had outwitted him! "You'd risk the lives of countless millions and the wealth of billions for one person? You must be stupider than I thought!"
"You're surrounded, Jack. Give it up. Maybe there'll be a place for you in the Home for the Criminally Insane…"
Jack's face went from bewildered to hostile in a second and he pulled the trigger on the Desert Eagle, which let out with a thunderous….CLICK. Jack blinked.
David held up the clip. "You said to drop the gun. Nothing was said about the ammo. If I want to hang on to my role as defender of the people, I have to do what you always claim you do. Think fast."
"Very well, David Connors. You win this round. But rest assured, the wrath of Jack the Ripper will not be easily quenched." He looked to his left and tossed the gun into one of the smelters, then dropped the remote in his other hand. The discs went up in a large magnesium fireball. "You'll regret this decision for the rest of your pitiful little life, your chance at immortality ruined forever."
David groaned audibly. "The only thing I regret is you destroying my gun. Do you have any idea how tough it is to get one of those blued just right?" Jack wasn't listening, however, already planning on how to make his entrance. He backed away, knowing that unless he timed it perfectly, he'd have to explain how he got to this location so quickly. He turned away and took a few steps, then stopped as he realized that the scalpel was not in his possession. Jack turned back to find David unbuckling Lara from the restraints. "Hang on, Lara, I'll have you out of there in a jiff…"
Lara was making noises as she looked at David, then pulled the ball-gag from her mouth as soon as a hand was free. "David, LOOK OUT!!"
David looked up and saw Jack grabbing the scalpel. "Oh no…you're not getting away this time!" David took off in hot pursuit as Lara freed herself, then shook her head. As he mind cleared of the effects of the drugs, she looked up towards the ceiling.
Lara smiled. "Dave, keep him from getting out through the south doors!"
"Why?"
"Trust me, Dave, you don't have a monopoly on quick thinking! Just do it!"
Jack's mind went into high gear. He was perplexed at how he could've missed that contingency, that he'd only considered legal means of pursuit. Recriminations will have to wait. If I don't escape, the scalpel will be removed and my façade will be shattered. I can still manage to get the scalpel back…after all, all it would take is someone stupid enough to pick it up and I'd have it back in a few days' time. But my revenge would be forestalled until another generation of Kellaway is born. Lara might be safe for now…but we'll see how secure she'll feel when her children are fair game. Who knows? Lara might even have a daughter, I'm sure she's likely been rutting with that Connors brute for some time now…
He stopped as he saw David in front of the south doors. He was carrying an length of wood just a little larger than a Louisville Slugger. "And who are you supposed to be?"
David smiled. He couldn't resist. He looked at Jack with a smile, brandished the wooden cudgel and said in a low voice, "I'm Bat-man."
Jack smiled and spun around, running away towards a set of stairs leading up.
"Come back here, bitch!" David charged after Jack. "I don't wanna hurt you, I just want to see if I can fit this up your ass!"
"Always the last resort of the primitive. Harsh language." Kellaway said snidely as he climbed the stairs and moved across the catwalk. If I can get him closer to the halfway point, I can try and force him off the catwalk. A few thousand gallons of molten steel should fry that hunk of meat quite nicely. "Face it, David…you haven't gotten me yet."
"I managed to get the better of you, genius."
"Even a broken clock is right twice a day, David Connors." Jack smiled as he felt the heat to his right. "You're no real match for me, David Connors. Even with sheer brute force, you still feel you need a weapon to face me." Jack turned around and faced David. "I'm still superior to you, David."
David stopped, then tossed the wooden weapon off the catwalk. It fell into the steel, vaporizing upon contact. "Alright, Jack. Let's dance."
Jack smiled. "Come along, David. It's time to for you to see the doctor. You have a terminal illness, David. It's called life. Fortunately," he added as he took out his scalpel, "I have a sure cure for that."
"Yeah? You're real smart, huh?"
"Smarter than you could possibly dream."
"Then tell me something. What happens when you take a wire, wrap it around a piece of iron, then run a charge through it?"
Jack stopped, then looked up. A thick disk hung over his head, ten feet up. He turned to the right to see Lara waving from behind a control panel. Then he heard a loud hum as Lara fired up the electromagnet. The scalpel flew from his grasp and made a small clinking noise as it hit the surface of the magnet. Jack stared right up until the point where David tackled him, sending him sprawling. Jack pulled himself to his feet, watching Lara direct the magnet over one of the smelters. "You can't do this to me!! Don't you realize who I am?"
"Yeah. You're Jack the Ripper. And you've been alive for far too long. We're revoking your medical license."
He turned to face David again, his face pleading. "Wait! Don't do it! I can replace the discs. I still remember the formulae and the calculations. Spare me and you can have greatness once more!"
"And the people you killed for your twistoid supper…can you replace them?"
"PLEASE…I'll do anything you ask. Spare my existence! Don't send me to the Pit! I'll be your servant in all things. I'll do whatever you command!" He watched the magnet stop directly over the smelter and the bubbling steel within it.
"You'll work for me?"
Jack smiled, hearing David's pause. "Yes. I'll work for you and you alone."
"In that case, Jack…you're fired." He nodded and the humming stopped.
"NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Jack watched as the scalpel fell into the molten metal, an ice cube dropped into a boiling pot, then dove after it. David moved to the rail of the catwalk as the scalpel plunged into the steel, Jack following close behind. The scalpel actually managed to survive the heat for a few seconds. Jack, however, was not so fortunate. The heat was so intense, his nerves were destroyed faster than they could send the messages of pain to Jack's mind. For him, it was like diving into a swimming pool of cold water. However, soon after the sensations of coolness had ebbed, a fire much fiercer enveloped him, only this time, there were no mortal limitations denying him the full force of the heat…
David walked through the open doors of the Croft mansion with a smile. "MAN, it is good to be home!"
"I am in agreement with you there, David. Besides, the trial was a terrible inconvenience." Lara smiled as one of the butlers came forward with a tray with two drinks, a ginger ale for Lara and lemonade for David.
"It was short enough. I didn't have a radio on me when I went into that factory, but the voice recorder came in handy." He smiled at Lara. "I can't wait to get to bed."
"It was a shame, though, that the scalpel was lost." Lara shook her head, then caught David's look. "What?"
"After all that thing has done…??"
"Its historical significance is beyond value, and as for the discs…I still can't believe you did that. Yes, Dave, I know, I didn't want to become his meal any more than you wanted to let him dine upon me, but….didn't you have any doubts, any reservations?"
"No. It's all back in God's hands, the way it should be. And I'm not God. All Jack thought I wanted was money, power and sex. What a monster like him could never figure out is that there are things more important."
"Well…" Lara smiled coyly, "I am rather rich...I do have some power…and don't tell me you're disappointed in the sex."
"Well…." David held up a hand and shook it noncommittally.
"You!!!" Lara said, outraged. She punched his shoulder hard. "Fine! Just see if I ever wear that Xena outfit for YOU ever again!" She strode off indignantly.
"Come on, Lara, I was only kidding!! Lara?" He walked after her. "It's was a joke!"
"Ha! Bleeding ha!"
David sighed. Now all I need is a vat of boiling metal for me to dive into. I'm calling the guy on Monday…