There were no lights on in the house, lending a stillness to the property that was nothing short of eerie. Jim looked over at Partnow, who nodded with his head toward one side of the house. Jim followed him, both their guns at the ready.
Silently they crept in the snow until they found themselves at the far end of the building. Partnow held an arm out stopping West, he pointed toward a guard ahead. Jim nodded and indicated he would take him. Partnow watched as West walked up behind the guard, and quickly knocked him out with a blow to the back of the head. The man crumpled to the ground, the snow providing a cushion for the sound.
Partnow joined West and together they headed for a small door which led to the basement. Partnow reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. After a moment, he opened the door, allowing the two of them to enter unseen. They moved through several adjoining rooms quietly taking out guards as they progressed. The two agents stopped in front of the large wooden door that Jim recognized as the entrance to the lab.
West kicked the door in, and the two agents rushed into the lab. Sorsby was standing in the middle of the room, by a table, as if he was already expecting them. He was holding a large syringe, poised to strike. West stopped cold when he saw Angel strapped to the lab table on Sorsby's right, her eyes wide with fear.
I think that's far enough, gentlemen. Put down your guns.
Neither West nor Partnow made a move to disarm.
Sorsby's voice took on an edge, Put them down, or she dies.
Mr. West! Please help me!
That's enough my Angel, no more outbursts, or Daddy might have to do something you won't like.
He put the syringe to her neck and she stiffened in fear. The two agents set their guns on the floor.
Kick them toward me. Now.
Partnow and West did as they were told.
Sorsby looked at Partnow, Thank you for sending word. What went wrong?
Partnow moved forward and picked up the guns as he spoke, He jumped me, got the vials and scared the others off.
Mr. West, you certainly are a thorn in one's side. And judging by your demeanor, you knew Partnow wasn't the real item......What gave him away?
The telegram.
What about it?
Jim turned to the man pretending to be Partnow, You said you were sending a telegram to Washington. Protocol demands that an agent contact the nearest Fort for backup, not the White House. The ranking Army officer notifies Washington.
Sorsby shrugged, Ah well, no one is perfect.
What happened to the real Partnow?
Oh he's very dead, I'm afraid. But before we finished him off, he was a real fount of information.
Jim looked at the madman, It's over, Sorsby. When I picked up the horses from the stable boy at the station, I paid him to send a telegram to Ft. Halifax. The Calvary's on its way, Sorsby. You're finished.
Sorsby placed the syringe at Angel's neck, I don't think so, West. You're going to use the soldiers heading here to storm the White House and kill Grant, or you will watch the lovely Angel suffer a most painful death.
She's your daughter, Sorsby....
Good thing she's not. I found Angel abandoned when she was quite young. She's been a lovely companion, but alas, whatever it takes to bring down this travesty you call a government.
You're mad. I won't kill the President, even if it costs Angel's life and mine.
Sorsby smiled, set the syringe down, and looked at West with fascination. He walked over to a lab table that had a white sheet covering what appeared to be a body. With a flourish, Sorsby yanked the sheet free, revealing Arte's corpse. Jim's breath caught in his throat.
Mr. Gordon was far more shrewd than I thought. What did he take?
The man who had masqueraded as Partnow cut in, West said it was arsenic.
Arsenic, really? That usually leaves a telltale stench of garlic long after death. Jim's eyes flicked up to Sorsby's, and the man continued, Well, in any case, the result is the same, Mr. Gordon appears to be quite dead.
Sorsby moved to a tray of instruments beside the table holding Arte's body. He picked up a scalpel and smiled, gauging West's reaction.
Jim felt panic rising up in him, his voice unable to cover the alarm, What are you doing?
Why an autopsy of course. Where shall we start, Mr. West? The heart perhaps? I have an idea, how about if I carve him up and you eat him.
Jim took several steps toward Sorsby, and was stopped when held the gun to his temple. West's body was shaking, his stomach churning, and his knees felt weak.
Sorsby smiled at Jim, Well now, this is an interesting development isn't it? For a man who is looking at a corpse, you seem awfully nervous that I might cut into him. Just why would that be, hmmm?
The madman placed the scalpel on Arte's chest, and Jim's bluff was called.
Don't! He's--
--Not dead. Yes, I know. The real Partnow told me of Mr. Gordon's background in chemistry. You didn't give him arsenic, but some kind of chemical designed to simulate death. You took an awful chance though, given how weak his condition is....
What do you mean?
What if he actually is dead now? It's not as if he was in good shape when you left.
Panic filled Jim's eyes, and he quickly moved over to the table holding Arte's body. He ran a hand down Arte's arm taking his partner's wrist in his hand, checking for a pulse. There wasn't one. Jim closed his eyes for a moment; he had to believe that Arte had known what he was doing. Positioning himself so that Sorsby couldn't see his hands, he gently took Arte's hand in his own. He removed the watch fob from his own pocket, and pressing one end into Arte's hand, he pressed a button, injecting a liquid into Arte's bloodstream. Jim then carefully pressed the small hand gun he always kept up his sleeve into the cold and lifeless hand of Artemus Gordon, placing the fob where the gun had been.
He turned to Sorsby, his voice was filled with a deep sorrow, What do you want from me?
You know what I want, Mr. West. Wilkinson, do you have the vials?
The man Jim had known as Partnow answered,
Good. So, Mr. West, we will try again. This time hanging in the balance, the mutilation and consumption of Mr. Gordon's body, and of course, the lovely Angel.
Let the girl go now, and I will do as you ask.
Come now, Mr. West, that would hardly be an intelligent thing for me to do. Besides, I'm rather fond of Angel.
Jim had been slowly moving towards Angel, coming to a stop near the long strap holding her down. He assessed the situation: Sorsby was not holding a gun, just a scalpel, it was doubtful he could throw it accurately; Wilkinson had a gun, and that was another matter.
He knew it was now or never. Jim smiled down at Angel, and reached back toward his neck, as if to straighten a kink. Quicker than the eye could follow, Jim pulled the knife hidden in the lining of his jacket, and sliced through the binding of the strap holding Angel to the table.
Go Arte, twelve o'clock!
In an instant, Jim's knife was flying in the air toward Sorsby, and he pulled Angel off the table, to the safety of the floor. Arte pointed his right hand straight ahead, and fired, dropping Wilkinson before the latter realized what hit him. Wilkinson fell forward and landed with a thud. Jim heard the glass vials in the man's pocket shatter.
Oh shit....
As he launched into motion, Jim saw Angel run out the door of the lab; it was one less thing he'd have to worry about. West grabbed Arte, his partner screaming in pain at the lack of care with which Jim picked him up. He hefted the larger man over his shoulder and ran for the nearest exit, slamming the door shut behind him. Jim didn't stop running until he and Arte were a safe distance away from the structure, and any gas that might filter outside. Jim carefully laid Arte down on the snow, his partner writhing in pain. There was no sign of Angel anywhere; but Jim couldn't worry about her escape, his partner needed him.
Quickly West removed his jacket and wrapped it around Arte, Easy buddy, Calvary should be here shortly.
Arte grit his teeth in distress, You were late. I thought something happened to you.
I'm sorry, Arte. Gordon shivered, and West pulled him into his arms, cradling him carefully, Just relax, I've got you now.
To be continued....
