THE NIGHT OF THE COLD BLUE LIGHT (part 4 of 4)
byGorgolo Chick
When West stepped through the doorway into the suite where he and his partner had changed earlier, the door was closed and locked behind him. He was left alone for the first time since he'd arrived, like Alice, in this nightmare Wonderland.
He walked across the room to stare into the ornate mirror. He pictured himself and Gordon side by side in that same mirror earlier. Gordon dandied up; haggard from a lack of rest and demoralized by having fallen under Loveless' spell, even temporarily; yet unwavering in his determination.
West turned away from the image. His eyes fell on the washbasin where Gordon had removed his disguise. The thought of the cool water drew him, but as he scooped a handful of water to splash on his face, he suddenly remembered another encounter with Loveless, another time when the demented dwarf had created a nightmare world for him. Then, the latest vile creation had been a drug, and Loveless had been testing it on West himself. It had driven him half-mad, releasing the most vicious side of his being, and had also caused him to hallucinate himself cold-bloodedly shooting down Artemus Gordon.
If only the scene he had witnessed in that pit had been such a fantasy of evil. West thought about the possibility for a moment, while his hand drifted to the handle of the porcelain ewer. Then he shook off the unhelpful wish and deliberately flung the pitcher across the room to shatter against a wooden sconce that concealed one of the eerie blue lights.
He forced himself to begin quietly examining every inch of the suite, searching for… whatever might be there to find. A possible weakness in the trap that would allow him to escape? It wasn't just arrogance, West knew, that made Loveless confine him where he could undoubtedly crack either door or windows whenever he chose. It certainly wasn't the temporary truce he had made for Antoinette earlier – Loveless had clearly broken that with his actions against Gordon. Especially as all that West had promised then was not to attack Loveless while the truce held. Escape was checkmated by the same compulsion that had brought him there – he didn't know where the senator was, and daren't make a move that might endanger the man.
Or did he? Loveless had mentioned speaking to Senator Long after Gordon had fallen under his power, yet West suddenly remembered a quick aside in this room earlier; Gordon telling him that Long was with the escaped gypsy band. Loveless had confirmed their departure, yet denied Long's escape. Still, until Long's safety was assured, West had to continue to comply with the rules Loveless set out for the game.
Added to that, Gordon was now a pawn in Loveless' hands – tortured senseless, at best, and currently in an unknown state in an unknown location in this freakish house. West faced the mutually exclusive compulsions to remain obediently in these quarters until he was informed of his friend's condition, or to break out and seek to rescue him.
Helplessness was not a sensation with which James familiar. He was a man of action, and always able to rely on the machinations of his wily partner to supply a solution where direct action would not serve. Being in the hands of the enemy was supposed to mean using his wits and counting on a last-minute, Gordon-style rescue from some unexpected quarter if necessary. It was West, the brash, direct partner who was supposed to draw the enemy's fire. If Gordon fell into their hands, he was most likely to be largely disregarded until the two of them could join forces to resolve the situation. It was West's part to be the target for the more purely sadistic motivations of evildoers. Gordon was his unclear shadow, skilled at the quick fade from view and from mind when it came down to confrontation.
Now Loveless had turned West's job as target into a weird role-reversal. And West had no idea how to play Gordon's role of non-target, how to patiently await opportunity to change the twist on the situation.
And he'd never imagined a torment he could be so powerless to deal with. Left physically untouched, he felt himself nearer to collapse under the fiendish torture of watching his friend suffer than he'd ever been suffering directly himself. Yet until he found a way to assure himself of the safety of his charge, he must endure it, must allow his friend to be its victim.
He continued to prowl restlessly until he heard the key turn in the lock. He moved to the middle of the room to wait. After a moment the door opened. The man who opened it stood back, and two more carried the limp form of Artemus Gordon into the room. They dumped him unceremoniously onto the floor at West's feet, then turned and left the room. Before the door was closed and locked, West was on his knees and had gathered Gordon's head and shoulders into his lap.
"Arte?" He bent to press his ear to the unconscious man's chest, holding his breath tensely.
He was rewarded by the sound of a regular, normal heartbeat, and the feel of a slow expansion of the chest. Gordon was alive and, apparently, in no immediate danger.
"Arte?" He spoke again, and gently slapped Gordon's pallid cheeks in an attempt to revive him. When he got no sign of a response, he shifted around to lift Gordon bodily from the floor. He carried his friend into the next room and settled him onto the bed. Then he returned to the sitting room for water, and remembered his earlier action in destroying the pitcher. He pounded on the door and shouted until a guard opened it. When his demands for fresh water and gauze were met, he settled down to tend the injured man.
Only after he had bathed the dried sweat from Gordon's face, chest and arms, and managed to coax a little water down his throat, was he finally see signs of returning consciousness.
He was examining Gordon's bruised wrists, making note of the redness that seemed to have nothing to do with their earlier brutal confinement, when Gordon stirred and feebly pulled free of his loose grasp.
"Hey, Arte." He kept his voice low. "You know, you don't look so hot?"
Gordon attempted to make some response, but all that came out was a harsh croak, which launched a weak fit of coughing. West brought the water to his partner's lips, and was relieved to see him take several large swallows.
"Thanks," Gordon murmured. After a moment he added, "I have felt better."
West set the water aside and drew a deep breath. He knew he couldn't take any more time to cosset his friend, despite his condition. "Artemus," he asked firmly. "How sure are you about Senator Long? Is he safe?"
"From what Loveless said," he nodded.
"But he said he spoke to the senator."
"Didn't say he asked him who he was, did he? That was Antonio, made up to look like Senator Long."
West sighed in relief, then realized the full meaning of that statement. "You mean," he asked slowly, forcing himself to speak quietly, "that we let Dr. Loveless do this to you for no good reason?"
"Hardly, James." Gordon's voice remained hoarse, and it was all too easy for West to understand why. "We had to give Guillermo time to get the senator to safety."
"Okay. I can see that. However," he glanced toward the doorway, "I think it's getting to be about time we stopped playing the devil's game. What do you say we go pay a call…"? Gordon's hand on his arm recalled his attention to the man on the bed. He was shaking his head.
"Not we. I'm no good to you, now, Jim."
"What?" West was startled by the calm certainty in his partner's voice. "Artemus, how much damage did you do to you? That rack, and the convulsions from the electricity…" His hands flew to check shoulders first.
"No, no." Gordon waved West away. "It's nothing you can help. But there's no way I can even get off this bed. You have to go without me. First thing, you have to Jacamo and Antonio free." Strain was showing in his face.
"You can't ask me to leave you…"
Gordon interrupted. "You know you have to. Just leave me something to fight with, can't you? If you can grab a guard's gun or something for me."
"No, Artemus, I'll just have to be patient. I'll wait until you feel better, get your strength back a little."
"Jim, Jim, Jim." Gordon was shaking his head again. "I get my strength back that much, do you think Dr. Loveless will give us a chance to fight? I'll be back in that damnable pit. You have to go while I'm helpless. I promised Guillermo. I gave him my word."
"I can't leave you here defenseless. He'll kill you."
"He'll kill me if you wait, too." Gordon struggled to sit up, and West assisted him rather than try to force him to remain still. "I'd rather die fighting." He seemed to be rallying his strength, and gazed firmly at West as he continued. "With our line of work, I've always accepted that I stood a pretty good chance of dying a horrendous death. I just always assumed my death would be in a worthy cause; that some good would come of it. This," he indicated his bruised and scorched wrists, "I object to. I refuse to endure this torment for the grotesque pleasure of that monstrous madman. He thinks he has you shackled. If you leave me and get them out, well, I'll take care of spoiling Loveless' fun."
Before West could frame a logical counter-argument, Gordon's surge of animation faded, and in a moment he was once again insensible.
"You're probably right, Artemus," he told the now silent figure. "But I will not leave you absolutely helpless like this. I'm staying until you can at least defend yourself against him a little." He eased Gordon back down to lie flat, then checked his pulse and breathing again. Slow, steady, unwavering. The signs of deep unconscious. He realized that the argument was not going to be taken up again for some time. He shrugged, and turned his attention to making his partner more comfortable.
Hours later West was awakened from a restless sleep by the sound of the outer door of the suite opening. He launched himself out of the chair and was standing in the doorway of the bedroom before the guard who had entered even reached the table with a large tray of covered dishes and a steaming coffee urn. A second guard stood by the door, with a gun leveled at West.
"You will be allowed one hour to break your fast before meeting with Dr. Loveless in the game room," he was told. Both guards then departed.
West turned back to the bed. Gordon lay as he had left him, unmoving even when he sat on the edge of the bed beside him.
"Arte." West shook his partner's shoulder gently. "Wake up. We've got to figure out what we're going to do."
Gordon's head rolled limply. West checked his pulse and leaned close to listen to his slow, steady breathing. He realized that the unconscious state had not changed despite the passage of the night.
There was no longer any doubt in his mind; there was something more wrong with Artemus Gordon than the effects of the torture he had suffered the night before. Loveless had obviously been surprised by how readily he had fallen under the influence of the mind-control, as had they both by his collapse on the rack. The problem was, West didn't know what was causing it. Unless having that much electricity flow through his body had done some damage none of them expected. Even Dr. Loveless didn't know everything about it.
With a worried sigh, West reached for the water glass he'd left by the bedside, and coaxed a trickle down Gordon's throat. It was all he could think of to do for him, for the time being. Except that he could make sure he would be at his best to defend his helpless partner. He moved into the parlor and poured himself a cup of coffee, and then sat down where he could see into the bedroom, and forced himself to eat a hearty share of the breakfast for two.
Exactly one hour after the meal had been delivered, a larger group of guards arrived. One cleared away the remains of the meal, while the rest stood ready to enforce the order that West and Gordon accompany them.
"I'm afraid Mr. Gordon isn't able to oblige," West pointed out, following the men who moved into the bedroom. "I can't wake him. Dr. Loveless will just have to be satisfied with me."
"We are to escort both of you to the game room immediately," the evident 'lead' guard responded flatly. He stepped to the bed and prodded Gordon.
"Well, it's impossible to 'escort' an unconscious man anywhere. There's nothing you can do about his condition."
They all stood silently for several moments, while the guard obviously attempted to reconcile his orders with the situation that faced him. Finally, he shook free of the puzzle and spoke again. "We will escort you to the game room. Dr. Loveless will be informed that his instructions about Mr. Gordon were not possible."
West made another mental note, setting aside for hopeful future use the evident fact that the blocking or destruction of free will in the guards made them susceptible to confusion when faced with the unexpected.
"Very well," he responded. "Let's go see the good doctor and see what he thinks he can do to a comatose man."
Having reached a solution to their dilemma, the guards promptly led West from the room. He cast a last glance over his shoulder, hoping for some sign that Gordon was, after all, playing possum. He left in disappointment.
Some consolation came from Dr. Loveless himself, as he threw a red-faced, high-voiced fit when informed that Gordon was still unconscious. "You idiots!" he finally managed to shriek. "Mr. Gordon is an accomplished actor! He's fooled you!"
West waited until it looked like Loveless might be getting control of himself before he offered his own contribution to the situation. "I wish that were the truth, but I'm afraid this time it's no trick. Artemus woke up about half-way one time, but after that he passed out again and I haven't been able to stir him since."
"That's ridiculous! I haven't even begun to torture him to a degree that would put a feeble old woman into such a state, much less a you man of his ridiculously good health and conditioning."
"How much do you really know about the effects of repeated exposure to electrical current?" West asked soberly. For the moment, it seemed he and Dr. Loveless were locked into the same puzzle. "Maybe your new torture technique isn't as useful as you thought."
"Preposterous. I've done extensive experimentation with laboratory animals, using electrical shock to control their activities. I assure you, I've come nowhere near giving Gordon the sort of exposure to electrical current that would be required to produce a comatose state."
West shrugged, hiding his own frustration. "Go check him for yourself," he suggested. "You tell me what's wrong with him."
"Oh, don't doubt I shall, Mr. James oh-so-smug West. This is obviously some trick the two of you have cooked up, but it won't save him, I promise you." Loveless scuttled for the door, calling over his shoulder, "Bring him, and don't let him get away!" He led the way back to the comfortable suite, outside of which two of the mindless guards still stood their posts. He paused suddenly at the door, and then turned to another of the men. "Go to my laboratory," he ordered firmly. "Bring the black case with my emergency medical supplies. IF this is for real, I need to discover what is wrong with Mr. Gordon."
West mentally shook his head at the thought that he would have to depend upon the man who most wanted to destroy them both to help his partner.
It did no good. Loveless' frustration had been subsumed by his medical curiosity by the time he finished his examination. After confirming that the coma was genuine, he speculated on and dismissed possible causes such as incipient illness. He also made a careful search for any signs of West having manually rendered his endangered partner unconscious. He settled, albeit with obvious dissatisfaction, on the theory that the agents had somehow managed to conceal some drug or chemical in the suite, prior to being deprived of their equipment.
"I must say," he commented harshly. "I would have thought it beneath either of you to use such a cowardly escape." He ordered Gordon removed to another bedroom and focused his own attention on a thorough search of West. He seemed less than enthusiastic, as if he were unsuccessfully attempting to convince himself of the possibility.
West suppressed his natural desire to taunt his enemy. He was caught in the same puzzle, and it was beginning to seem as though both of them would be stalemated until it was resolved.
Loveless viewed the situation differently, it appeared. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this," he insisted. "But one thing you don't seem to realize is that I have all the time in the world to do so. By tonight Senator Long will be my complete puppet. If I thereafter chose to set him free to act on my behalf, don't think that will enable your cohorts in the Secret Service to attack this compound and rescue the two of you. My device will make sure that nay such attempt fails." He studied West through narrowed eyes, clearly trying to penetrate his mask of inscrutability. "Oh, I'm sure you're thinking of the amount of time it took for it to effect Gordon," he spoke slowly, almost with a growl. "But I'm afraid you are deceiving yourself, my dear old friend. You see, I decided to be kind to Mr. Gordon's friends, so I didn't have my device turned back on until they had finished with dinner. So, while there is a slight possibility that a determined cavalry charge could safely make it through the sphere of influence before they lost the will to attack me, any attempt at a cautious approach will prove useless."
West chewed on this assertion after he was led to a far more Spartan suite. This time, instead of being left to his own devices in the suite, he was shoved into the bedroom, and two of the zombie-guards stayed in the room to watch him. Through the open door he noticed several others taking seats and apparently resting – not that they looked particularly comfortable; or uncomfortable either.
For the moment, at least, West decided that his best option was to play the waiting game a little bit longer. Dr. Loveless was not a patient man, and as his impatience grew he was likely to make some slip that would allow West to wrest control of the situation. Until then, he decided, he might as well make up for the poor night's sleep he'd had. A lack of sufficient rest was a subtle enemy he didn't need to be courting just now.
West was awakened some time later by one of the guards. "You are to eat," he was told flatly. With a silent scowl, he rose and went into the sitting room to look at the dinner provided for him. Loveless clearly intended for him to keep his strength up. He had barely settled into a chair when he was distracted by a soft thump.
The guard nearest the door had simply collapsed. The rest were looking at him, but not reacting yet. The two standing over West hadn't even looked around. When the next man closest to the door also collapsed, West struck. The guards may have been set to prevent just such an action, but they were too slow and too confused.
He quickly collected a weapon and turned to face the door. Slight scritching sounds were coming from it, then a click, and the knob turned. The door opened far enough to allow Artemus Gordon to slip into the room. While hardly as dapper as he had been before the trip to the pit, he had at least reacquired a shirt and boots. They made him look less helpless.
"Artemus, you son of a…" West slipped the gun into his empty holster and crossed the room in a few quick strides to clasp hands with his partner. "I didn't know what sort of incapacitating injuries Loveless had given you," he explained as he gripped Gordon's shoulder with his free hand.
"It wasn't injury." Gordon's expression became grave. "It wasn't even directly what he did to me, although that didn't help. Jim, remember I told you back at the train how tired I was? I just gave you the highlights, the bits that I could make entertaining."
The little clues he had seen and dismissed aboard the train snapped into focus. "You came into this suffering from exhaustion."
Before West could berate himself for his lack of perception, Gordon looked past him and exclaimed happily. "Mind if I share your dinner? I've slept off every bit of last night's feast."
"Dig in." West waved a hand at the table. "At least I had a good breakfast."
Gordon took him at his word. Around a mouth full of chicken he commented, "In a way, my condition helped us out."
West looked up from gathering the remaining guns. "It made you susceptible to Dr. Loveless' device!"
"True, but at least it kept him from doing me any permanent damage before I passed out on him." He lifted a cover off of a side dish and wrinkled his nose. "Grits," he complained. "You can eat those."
West laughed as he sat down opposite his partner.
"And unless he figured out what was wrong with me…" Gordon stopped buttering a biscuit and raised an eyebrow at West.
"No, fortunately such a simple explanation never occurred to him any more than it did to me." West took the gravy boat from under his partner's hand and poured its contents generously over the disregarded dish. "I'm afraid his opinion of your toughness is very low right now, Arte."
"All the better. And save some of that for my potatoes. My body and mind just shut down and forced me to rest completely for… Jim, how long have I been out, anyway? In this creepy place I can't tell what time of day it is."
"All night, and I'd say a good part of the day. It seems like the mid-day meal was brought kind of late.
"So how did you pull that off?" West jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the guards who had passed out without his assistance. "Considering that Loveless managed to actually divest us both of every tool and device we had on us."
"Well, 'on us' being the key phrase there." Gordon grinned and waved his fork at West. "It's not that hard to make a lock-pick out of a few stray bits and pieces, you know. And I'd planted a few things outside a couple of windows earlier. Sort of spreading my eggs in several baskets. At least I managed not to give that much away." Gordon's face became grim as he dabbed at his lips with the napkin. "That was before that will-killer thing of his got to me." He shook his head and frowned. "I sure hope the way I succumbed so easily was because of the exhaustion, too. It would be too humiliating to think I didn't have a stronger will than the average Loveless flunky." Then he brightened. "The good side of it all is Dr. Loveless must think I'm out of it, as far as fighting him goes, right?"
"Arte, you were so completely out it scared me. Drove the good doctor half mad, too." They shared a grin.
"So Loveless thinks I'm useless and you're helpless because of me and Senator Long. What do you say we raise a little ruckus around here?" He pushed his chair back. "Especially since, just in case worst came to worst, I've also got some explosive devices planted around the grounds that will go off within a few hours if I don't reclaim them. You now the slow decay barrier between the two inert compounds that react rather violently to one another?"
"And I said we would probably never use that." West rose and went to check the door. "Little farewell gift if we got killed, huh?"
"Well, I tried to find anything that looked like weapons or machinery," Gordon agreed. "It's useless to hope I got that weird mind control device of his, but we might as well take as many toys away from him as possible, right?"
West smiled at the comment, and then became serious again. "I don't know how much you had to wander around this place to find me." He paused.
"Oh, not that long. They only had a couple of guards on me, I think they were under instructions to keep me from being rescued." Gordon gestured West over as he began emptying his own pockets onto the table. "You're probably going to want some of this, James my boy. Once I got out it wasn't hard to keep out of sight until I saw some guys bringing trays up the stairs. I figured they had to be for you and Jacamo, so I watched where they went. Led me right to this corridor, and since you're in this room, I'm assuming Jacamo is in the one down the hall."
West laid a pair of revolvers on the table, and then slipped some of Gordon's equipment into his own pockets. "That had better be our first order of business, Artemus," he commented. "Get your friend out of the house." West paused. "But how do we keep him from being stopped by Loveless' device?"
"The time delay on its effect," Gordon assured him. "As long as he makes a pretty straight run for it, there should be no problem." Gordon's face brightened. "As a matter of fact, maybe I can tell him where Antonio is being held, and he can try to get him out, too."
"Hey, take it easy there, Arte. Don't forget, Loveless still thanks that's Senator Long. The guards on him are going to be pretty heavy."
"I don't think so, Jim. From what I saw earlier, Loveless seems to be putting a lot of trust in his device to eliminate the need for guards. Anyway, Jacamo," West raised a hand and Gordon stopped.
"No way. We can't ask a civilian to take any more risks. I'm not sure I approve of you involving these people this deeply in the first place."
They matched gazes in silence for a moment before Gordon responded.
"I judged the level of risk carefully, James. Based on my knowledge of both Dr. Loveless and of Guillermo's family. When the opportunity unexpectedly presented itself, I admit I played it off the cuff, but I stand by my decision." He shrugged and frowned. "We'll know I was wrong if anything happens to Jacamo or Antonio."
Anyone who didn't know Gordon as well as West did might have thought this statement callous. West knew, however, that his partner was admitting the possibility of error on his part, as well as accepting complete responsibility.
"I'd still be much happier if you went with Jacamo and made sure both of them make it out of here safely."
Now Gordon shook his head. "And you want to make sure I make it out of here safely, too, don't you?"
West shrugged. He recognized that the ploy had been rather transparent.
"Jim, I don't mind leaving you to clean up when we've worked all the kinks out of a case and your direct approach is all that's needed." Gordon replaced the items West had passed over in his own pockets and tucked the two guns into his waistband. "But there's still too many things we don't understand. Besides, why waste being one up on Loveless for a change?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I'm your secret weapon, remember? Except Loveless knows us too well for that to work, usually. But now…" He gave West an expectant look.
West realized that what Gordon was suggesting was true. "And now when he realizes we've gotten loose," he responded. "He'll be certain you're maybe able to make a run for it at best. Probably that I had Jacamo take you out of here."
"Exactly. And as my Great Aunt Maude always said, never throw away an ace in the hole just to get busted on the flush."
"Okay, it makes more sense for you to stay," West admitted. "But I'm still not sure about asking Jacamo to try to rescue Antonio on his own."
"Well, I would never ask an outsider to take the responsibility and risk to free the senator, but this is one of Jacamo's own uncles. The Rom can be very clever when it comes to protecting their own. Besides," he smiled a bit again. "Once the pair of us start working on Loveless, he'll be too busy to guess that we'd send Jacamo for the prisoner."
"All right," West capitulated. "We'll discuss it with him." He moved back to the door and checked the corridor outside carefully. "It's still clear as far as I can tell. Which door do you think is Jacamo's room?"
Gordon pushed past him and led the way down the corridor. He stooped beside another door and carefully poured a small amount of clear fluid under it with the aid of a tiny metallic pipette. Then he pressed his ear against the panel momentarily, and nodded to West. He bent to work on the lock. In a moment it opened, and he slipped inside.
West kept watch until his partner returned and signaled him inside. There was a guard slumped unconscious on each side of the door. On the other side of the room Jacamo was standing over another lunch tray from which he had clearly just risen. His face showed signs of relief, although he quickly marshaled his feature to a neutral expression.
The two explained the situation, and West was unsurprised but less than pleased when Jacamo immediately insisted on rescuing his uncle before making his own escape. Still, he could hardly deny the man the right, and there was still a dangerous mission facing him and his partner.
He realized that Gordon was watching him silently. He forced a small smile for the patient insistence of his partner, and nodded. "You two work out how to get Jacamo out and how he's to get to Antonio," he suggested. "Then, Arte, find that device. It's got to be somewhere in this house. Oh, and I think you should make yourself look just about enough different to fool these men." He nudged an unconscious guard with his foot. "I think as long as they can't instantly identify you, it should be pretty safe."
"My thought exactly," Gordon responded immediately. "And if I act mindless, they should see me as one of them unless told specifically otherwise. Too bad for Loveless he can't see the usefulness of a man with the ability to think for himself." Gordon looked around the room for a moment, then picked up the coffee urn with a thoughtful look on his face.
"Yes. Pity, isn't it?"
"So what will you be doing, Jim? Gordon was rubbing coffee grounds on his skin to darken it.
"Me? The direct approach, I thought."
"There's something new." Gordon rolled his eyes.
"Hey, I haven't had the chance this whole time. I'm getting a bit restless."
"I'll just bet you are," Gordon snickered. He found a sponge beside the pitcher and basin on a side table, and moved to the ash-filled grate. "So you're going right for Dr. Loveless?" he asked as he used the sponge to apply ash to his cheeks, exaggerating his impending stubble.
"That's right. We capture him, find and destroy the device, and this whole nightmare will finally be over with."
Gordon paused to look at his partner. "From your lips," he said seriously, "to God's ears." Then he surveyed the erstwhile guards. "You'd better get started," he added as he tried on one man's jacket. "We'll be off in a minute."
Right," West responded. He reached for the doorknob. "Oh, and Arte?"
Gordon was at the mirror, checking the look of a battered Stetson hat with the rest of his improvised disguise. "Yeah, Jim?"
"Be careful, okay?"
"You too, Jim." He met his eyes in the mirror, and his look acknowledged his partner's concern. "I promise, I will."
Now that he understood how the guards minds, or rather what remained of them, operated, West found it ridiculously easy to avoid them. His inclination was to make his way first to Loveless' so-called 'game room'. Caution dictated, however, that he make a more cautious check of the rooms along the route. His first instinct, not surprisingly, was proven out as he approached Loveless' favorite room. He heard the music before he reached the door. The lyric sound of a waltz carried none of the threat he had faced at every other turn. He eased the door open and peered inside.
Dr. Loveless was seated at the harpsichord. His fingers flew across the keyboard, but his eyes were on the figure of his paramour, Antoinette. She was dancing and swaying to his music, spinning about the room gracefully. As she danced, she sang a wordless descant to the tune, and cast coquettish looks at Loveless.
West hesitated to interrupt. He told himself that he didn't want the zombie-guards to be alerted by the sudden cessation of the music. The magical charm of the scene he dismissed immediately.
As the waltz drew to a close, Dr. Loveless spoke. "Beautiful, my love. You have the grace of a woodland nymph." His voice was low and warm.
Antoinette dropped in a spread curtsey that ended with her seated on the floor. Loveless hopped from the bench and made an equally sweeping bow. Then he extended his hand to gallantly assist her in rising.
West pushed the door open. "A truly charming scene," he commented. He leveled one of the borrowed revolvers at his opponent. Antoinette dropped back and clung to Loveless. "I almost regret interrupting. But we have some rather pressing business, doctor."
"West!" Loveless caressed Antoinette's hair even as he snarled at West.
"Not a sound or a signal to your pet zombies, Dr. Loveless, or the game ends now and forever with a bullet through that incredible brain of yours. And you know that at this point, I'd gladly do it."
Before the confrontation between them could go any further, West was hit from behind by several silent guards.
He rolled forward under the mass attack, and got out from under before they could get all of them through the narrow doorway. He had time to realize that he was faced with half a dozen men.
To his advantage, they were clearly not well organized in their attack, and he knew well that they were not capable of swift, independent decision-making.
He leapt forward and caught one arm of each of the two closest men. He turned their own momentum against them, and flipped the pair together to go tumbling behind him. As the next man attacked, West ducked under his reaching arms and powered him back into those still crowding in the doorway. This created a jammed-up plug. It also gave West the freedom to pull the man he'd shoved forward again and punch him into unconsciousness.
The other three came at him in a bunch, getting in one another's way and presenting an easy target. West charged and threw himself at them in a horizontal leap. The threesome were all caught across the stomachs by his flying body and went down easily. A series of punches, and West was quickly back facing his true opponent.
"Oh, really, Mr. West. How tedious you are."
Antoinette gasped a frightened protest. Loveless looked at her, and then back at West. "Very well, I surrender… for the moment. Long enough, at least, to find out what advantage you think you've gained, and disabuse you of the notion. But remember this; for this added indignity, I shall personally cut out the eloquent Mr. Gordon's tongue at our next session."
"I wouldn't count on any more chances at him if I were you." West continued to watch his prisoners closely.
"Ah, do I deduce from that remark that you've already rescued that pitiful weakling and sent him off? I'm surprised he had the strength to escape, even with your help."
"I'm sure you have plenty more venom to spit, Dr. Loveless. However, I have more interest in you telling me where this mind-control device of yours is. It's about time for this experiment to end."
Loveless ground his teeth. West could see him shaking with fury.
"Not quite, Mr. West." He took a step forward, but Antoinette clung to his arm. "No, dearest." His voice went gentle again. "I know what I'm doing. I suggest you go to your quarters and wait for my return."
"Miguelito, I won't leave you."
"Never fear, sweet Antoinette." He raised his head proudly. "I am indomitable." He looked at West again. "Will you allow her to go? You have my word that she will do nothing to interfere." He glanced once more behind him. "Promise him, my dear."
Antoinette rose to her feet, dabbed at her eyes, and spoke. "Mr. West, I shall do as Miguelito instructs me. I shall go to my quarters, and do nothing to interfere with you."
"And meanwhile, Mr. West, I will show you my device. You and I will go up there together, and I dare you to stand with me and face the machine. We'll see then which of us has the stronger will!"
West laughed dryly at the suggestion, but then stopped himself. "You know, Dr. Loveless, I think maybe that's not such a bad idea. You're quite certain, of course, that you'll defeat me."
"Easily, Mr. West. Of course, you have the mistaken idea that you will be triumphant. Just because you dominate me physically, you believe you are the superior man."
"No, doctor. Actually, in many ways you are one of the most superior men I've ever met. Unfortunately, moral fortitude is not among your strength."
"Don't confuse an overblown sense of morality with a strong will, Mr. West. Will is of the mind, and even you admit that I have a pretty powerful mind."
"Yes, you do, doctor. It should be extremely educational for both of us to see if good or evil has the greatest will to defeat the other." He stepped back and reopened the door without taking his eyes or gun off of Dr. Loveless.
"Indeed, Mr. West, verily indeed." Dr. Loveless bowed once more to Antoinette before leading the way out into the corridor.
West was more interested than surprised to discover that Loveless had led him to the roof.
"Didn't it occur to you that I would want to place it to achieve maximum broadcast, Mr. West?" As they stepped through a door onto the roof, Loveless snickered with definite overtones of disdain. "Perhaps you imagine that the signals my device puts out are like those of the telegraph, and are carried through some sort of wire? Remember, they were developed from my experiments with light. And where would you place a lighthouse for most effect?" He spread his hands and smirked.
"As high up as possible."
Dr. Loveless whirled at the sound of another voice. His eyes and his mouth flew open. It took several moments before he managed to speak.
"What… are… YOU… doing… here?"
"Attempting to figure out how to dismantle this ghoulish creation of yours, actually," responded Gordon. He was standing beside an intricate-looking machine which hummed atop a turret at one corner of the small widow's walk where West and Loveless had emerged.
"I suggest you move away from that, Mr. Gordon. Remember, it won't take very long for it to effect you once more."
"What made you so certain that thing was what you were looking for?" West called up while he climbed the ladder on the side of the turret.
"Can't you feel it, Jim?" Gordon asked as West reached his side. "Like a vibration in the air, this close to it. It's giving me one hell of a headache."
West realized that he was feeling the same, and the sensation was coming almost palpably from the device over which they stood.
Below them, Loveless growled in frustration. "Oh, it doesn't matter to me one way or another whether you hang about, Gordon." He, too, made his way to the platform on which they and his machine stood. "Just stay out of the way. Mr. West and I have determined upon a small test between the two of us. I would invite you to watch, but you won't really be very interested by the time we achieve some results."
"Do you think you can dismantle it?" West asked his partner.
"Not without a serious risk of electrocuting myself, and I've had quite enough of that."
"No, no, no! I will not allow you to damage that machine!" Loveless drew back when West took a moment to stare him down.
"So blow it?" West asked.
"Blow it," Gordon agreed. "You'd better get Dr. Loveless away." He pulled a small bundle from a pocket. From it he removed a clay-like substance.
West turned away and gestured for Dr. Loveless to precede him down the ladder. At that moment, the dwarfish scientist suddenly made a dash past him, toward where Gordon was bending over the device with the explosive in hand. He threw himself against the focused agent's legs, knocking him off balance.
Gordon maintained his grip on the explosive until the back of his hand struck hard against part of the machinery. Then it dropped from his numbed fingers. "Down!" Gordon barely managed to shout the warning before the explosive contacted something within the works that set it off.
The force of the explosion flung West to the widow's walk below, but he managed to roll with the fall and come back to his feet. Immediately, his eyes searched the platform above. The machinery was sparking and spilling smoke, and was twisted somewhat out of shape.
West sprang upward and pulled himself easily onto the top of the turret. One thing was instantly plain. Neither Gordon nor Loveless was visible anywhere, and the railing was smashed.
"Arte!" West moved quickly to the edge and looked over. About halfway down the steep slope of the roof, Dr. Loveless was sprawled motionless on the shingles. "Artemus!" West called again.
"Jim." Weak, but it was definitely his partner's voice. It was coming from around the corner of the roof. West switched to that side of the turret.
Gordon's position was far more precarious than that of their stunned opponent. His greater size and weight had given him more momentum, and he was struggling at the lowest point of the slope. Before West's horrified gaze, his legs slid over the edge. For one agonizing moment, it seemed he would hurtle to the ground three stories below. But he caught the edge in a tight grip with his left hand, and dug his right elbow into the shingles.
"Hang on, Arte," West called down. "I'll be right there." He turned, digging in his pocket, then realized he no longer had his small folded grapple hook and rope. He looked about him and spotted heavy, insulated telegraph type wire coiled in the far corner of the widow's walk, beyond the door from below. He hurried to retrieve it.
As he was checking that his partner was still holding his own, he heard a shout of obvious rage from around the corner. His head jerked around and he froze. When he looked back, he saw that Gordon was looking in that direction, too.
"Arte," he hesitated, torn between loyalty and his sense of duty.
"Get him, Jim." Gordon made the decision. "I'm not slipping, and we can't let that little wizard get away again."
West turned back to where the smoking machinery had finally stopped throwing out sparks. His mind was racing, and he made a quick assessment of his situation.
It was the work of only a moment to fasten the center of the wire to the machine. Then he moved back to the edge. "Arte," he called. "Catch this and hold on. I'll get Loveless, then be right back to pull you up." He tossed one end of the coil down, and it looped over the edge right beside Gordon's right arm.
Loveless' shouts had not slacked off during the short time these maneuvers took. West flung the second end of the coil of wire to where Loveless pounded a fist on the shingles he clung to.
"I suggest you grab on to that, doctor."
Loveless snatched at the lifeline instantly. "You have to help me," he called. "I don't have the agility to climb this steep a slope."
West drew the small man up hand over hand. Just as he hauled him to safety, he heard a scrabbling sound from the other side. He leapt across and saw only his partner's left hand, still clinging to the edge.
Without hesitation, he stepped off the edge, still holding on to the second half of the wire. He slid down the roof in a barely-controlled manner. The loose loop ran out when he was about half way down, and he let the wire slip through his fingers more slowly. He stopped himself just short of the edge. He dropped to his stomach and reached over the edge. "I've got you, Arte." He gripped tightly onto Gordon's elbow. Both the wire and his partner's right arm were hanging loose. "What's wrong with your arm?"
"My hand. Something must have broken in it. I can't make it grip anything."
"Okay, we'll just have to…"
The wire in his other hand began an intense vibration. West looked up over his shoulder, and saw Dr. Loveless grinning over the edge at him.
"You know, Mr. West, you might just be able to save yourself when I finish cutting through this wire. I'm afraid, however, that the only way to do that is to drop Mr. Gordon."
"Let me go, Jim," Gordon spoke calmly. "You have to live to stop him once and for all."
"I'm not going to sacrifice you, Arte, and that's final." West scanned the side of the building below where they hung so precariously. "Can you hang on a minute more?"
"Yeah, if it'll help." He adjusted the grip of his one useful hand. "Okay, let go."
West grabbed the edge of the roof just as the wire in his other hand went slack. It and the second half both snaked down the slope, and he caught them before they could drop away entirely. He inched cautiously backward on his stomach until he was able to use both hands to loop up the wire. Then, peering carefully over the edge to judge the distance, he flung the doubled wire at an angle so that the center looped over a projecting bit of trim on the corner of the house.
"Jim, look out!" At Gordon's shout he rolled over. A heavy hunting knife hit the roof where he had been lying.
"Why don't you just die?" Loveless was grimacing at them from above. "Die, I say!"
From his new position on his back, West could see an orange glow beginning to silhouette Loveless. "Look behind you, doctor," he called up. "We're all likely to die if we can't get away from here quickly."
Loveless spun around and they could hear the snarl in his voice as he shouted. "No! Not another safe place destroyed by fire because of you two!" He jumped from sight, and they heard no more.
West flipped back over, wrapped the wire around one hand, and let himself slide forward. "Get ready to grab my shoulder," he instructed. "This is going to be tricky."
"I'm ready." Gordon grated the reply out between clenched teeth.
West dove forward, throwing his free arm around his partner's torso. As he dropped, Gordon released his own grip on the roof edge and grabbed on to West with both arms.
If they had dropped straight down, the shock of hitting the end of the wire with the weight of both of them would surely have broken his grip. But West had gauged it carefully in those few seconds he had to do so. The wire tightened with their mass far to the side of its anchor point, so that their fall was translated into a swinging arc. Once they swung past the corner of the building and out away from it, West twisted them around. If they swung too far out, the loop would come loose. He managed to turn their momentum back toward the house, and aimed his feet at a window. A moment later, he was pulling Gordon back inside.
"Now that," Gordon pronounced solemnly as he cradled his bleeding right hand in his left, "was truly impressive, even for you."
"That was the easy part. Now we have to find our way out of this maze before the whole place burns down around our ears."
"I've got the hang of it, I think. Follow me." Gordon ran for the door.
Epilogue
"What do you mean, Gordon isn't available?" Colonel Richmond shouted at his subordinate. "Good God, West, has he disappeared?"
"No, sir. I know exactly where he is, but he's still not available. If you want to debrief him on the case, you're going to have to wait. Besides, he can't tell you anything I can't, or that you don't already know.
"We weren't able to coax more than a couple of guards out of the house before it became completely engulfed in fire." He paused for a moment. "They're being cared for?"
"Yes, although the doctors don't have much hope for any major improvement in their mental condition. But what about…"
"Well, sir, Arte's time-delay explosives destroyed most of the outbuildings, although we did confirm beforehand that Jacamo and Antonio escaped. The rest of the gypsy family sent Senator Long into the government offices on Canal Street.
"As for Loveless and Antoinette," West shrugged. "We didn't find any sign of them, and from past experiences, I'd say it's a safe bet they escaped. It's all in our report, which you've already read." West smiled and offered his superior a seat.
"Oh, yes, West. A thorough report, very detailed, very concise." Richmond sat down and adjusted his creases. "Also very unsigned by Gordon." His face darkened a shade. "I demand an explanation! You can't just tell me he's unavailable without giving one."
"Well, sir." West hesitated.
The door to the rest of the car opened, and Gordon stumbled through in his crimson and gold dressing gown. He was yawning and running his undamaged hand through his hair. "What's all the noise out here, Jim?" he muttered. "It woke me up." He looked up and froze. "Um… Colonel Richmond, sir."
Richmond stared for a moment, then turned back to West. Very calmly he asked, "This is what you call 'unavailable'?"
West glared at Gordon. "Let's just say he's supposed to stay out of sight."
"Oh, this is getting better by the moment. Do you want to explain to me why you've been attempting to hide your partner from me?"
"Sir, Jim wasn't…"
"Go back to bed, Artemus. And that's an order."
"West, if anyone around here is going to give orders, I think perhaps it should be me. Don't you?"
West stared at his drowsy partner until Gordon grinned and left the room once more. Then he turned back to Richmond.
"Sir, the reason I don't want him talking to you or anyone else is because I don't want to take any chances on anything keeping him from resting up."
"What?" Richmond looked startled. "Is he ill? Or seriously injured? I saw the bandaged hand."
"Not ill, precisely, and the hand's not that serious. But he's seriously over-worked." He raised a hand to stop Richmond from interrupting. "I don't mean he needs a vacation. It's just that he went from one very tiring case to another without any rest in between. Surely you'll grant me the desire for a partner who's at his best?"
Richmond sat silently for so long that West turned away and moved to the mantle. "Drink, sir?"
"Eh? Oh, yes, thank you." Richmond watched him pour and accepted the glass offered to him.
"Do you know, Jim, I'd say we've got a most unusual situation."
"We do, sir?" West sat down opposite Richmond with his own glass in hand. "What would that be?"
"I believe this is the first time I've known either of you to behave responsibly about his own health."
"Who, Arte?" West chuckled. "The only real concern he's showing for his health is based on the fact that I swore I'd kill him if he didn't take the time off to rest up before he'd hear anything about another assignment."
"Ah," said Richmond. He took a sip of his drink. "This really is a most excellent sherry, isn't it?"
END