“Anything else, Inspector?” Morgan asked, smiling broadly as he handed over the papers. Cord particularly disliked Watts, having busted the man several times before Morgan’s “transformation” into a good guy.

  “Don’t get smart with me,” Cord hissed.

  Morgan chuckled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “All of you think you’re above the law, but you’re not. Sooner or later, you and that boss of yours are gonna cross the line and when you do, I’m going to throw your asses in jail!”

  Samantha moved closer to the Inspector, having heard the exchange. The fiery young Korean, Eun, stood just behind her, tensed like a snake ready to strike. “Inspector, we’re not your enemies,” she said. Her lovely features were enough to soften even the rough edges of Cord’s personality and he sighed before speaking.

  “I appreciate that, Miss Grace. Your family’s good people.”

  “So are my friends.”

  Cord grunted but said nothing. He began making his own notations on the papers, ignoring the members of Assistance Unlimited as they filed from the room.

  ***

  “That miserable piece of crap,” Eun muttered as the trio stepped out onto the rain-slicked streets of the city. The downpour had ceased but you wouldn’t know by the numerous small streams of water that made walking and driving a hazard on this night. “I’d like to see him deal with the likes of Murder Unlimited, or Femi without us around to bail him out of the fire!”

  “He’s just scared,” Samantha said. Smoothing down her skirt as they approached their car, she added, “I know several people who view Lazarus as something foreign. Enough of the truth seeps into the papers for everyone to know that the things we investigate aren’t always normal. Cord feels inadequate compared to us.”

  “You’re like a prettier Sigmund Freud,” Morgan teased, drawing an icy glare from his female companion.

  “It wouldn’t hurt you to read some of his works. But I actually wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze Inspector Cord. I was just pointing out the obvious.”

  Morgan reached the passenger side of the car first and he opened it for Samantha, who slid into her seat. Eun took his customary spot in the back while Morgan got behind the wheel. He was steering the car out onto the street when he glanced at Samantha and asked, “Did anybody else think that old Lazarus was trying to get some alone time back at the base? I was wondering if he was inviting Kelly over for a nightcap.”

  “You know him better than that,” Samantha said. “Besides, they’re still… I don’t know what they’re doing, to be honest. They have feelings for each other but they’re both so convinced that it’s never going to work out that they’re not really trying.”

  Morgan could understand that very well. He’d been seeing Molly Simms on and off for a while now, their relationship on permanent hold because of the demands of his work with Assistance Unlimited. He’d come close to calling it off completely because of the guilt he felt – he felt Molly deserved more than he could give.

  Before Morgan could reply, Eun leaned forward. He was pointing straight ahead as he said, “What the hell is that?”

  Morgan slammed on the brakes. A strange fog had rolled in, the sort of pea-souper that Sovereign sometimes got down on the pier, but never in the middle of town. It was so thick that Morgan could scarcely see more than a few feet in front of the vehicle – and it seemed to be closing in on them like a shroud.

  “There’s something out there,” Samantha whispered, leaning close to the windshield.

  “Hopefully it’s not another car about to plow into us!” Morgan murmured.

  “It looks like people,” Eun said. The young Korean opened the door and stepped out into the fog. Raising his voice, he yelled, “Get out of the road! You’re going to get hurt!”

  Eun narrowed his eyes. Something about the shape of the silhouettes moving toward him… He recognized the danger just as the man closest to him raised a pistol and fired. The bullet narrowly missed Eun, who threw his body away from the car with incredible speed. He hit the ground in a roll, coming up into a crouch. He could make out his opponents now: four men, dressed in matching black suits and hats. Each was armed with automatic weapons and all four took aim at Eun.

  Certain death for Eun was avoided as Morgan floored the accelerator on the car. The vehicle roared to life, slamming into two of the men – one went flying over the hood of the car while the other was crushed beneath the wheels.

  Eun cried out and jumped up into a fighting stance. One of the best martial artists in the world, he rushed toward the two remaining men with supreme confidence. He spun about and kicked the gun from the closest man’s hands and then finished him off with a two-handed chop to the throat.

  Eun turned to face the remaining man but the crack of a gun made him duck suddenly. When he opened his eyes, he saw the man hit the ground, a smoking hole between his eyes. Eun looked over at the car, where Samantha was standing outside the passenger side door, pistol in hand.

  “Did you have to kill him?” Morgan asked, exiting the vehicle. “We just left Cord’s office and now we have to explain why we blew some guy away in the street?”

  Samantha pouted. “Says the man who just ran over two people.”

  Eun grunted. Personally, he was on Samantha’s side but he knew that Lazarus would probably come down in agreement with Morgan. “Watch that one,” he warned, gesturing toward the fellow who had rolled over the hood. The man was rising to his hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it.

  Samantha started to raise her gun but Morgan stopped her with an upraised hand. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I think I know this guy.”

  The man grinned through the specks of blood that covered his lips. Every time he exhaled, more of the fine spray burst forth from his mouth. “Sure you know me, Morgan. We spent lots of time together in the old days. But you’re not in the rackets any more, are you? You’re a whole new man.”

  “That’s right. I am.” Morgan glanced at Samantha, adding, “This is Tommy Mattola.”

  “You ran me over with your car,” Tommy said, clutching his side. “That how you say hello to an old friend?”

  “You were trying to kill my friend.”

  “The chink? He doesn’t mean anything.”

  Morgan moved toward the injured man. “What’s the deal? Were you and your friends waiting to plug us?”

  Tommy nodded, his grin broadening. Morgan thought to himself that there was madness in his old friend’s eyes. “Yeah, that was the plan. Nothin’ personal, old pal. But when the boss says jump, I just smile and ask, ‘how high?’”

  “And which boss is that? You working for The Monster?” Morgan asked, referencing the mysterious underworld figure that had clashed so often with Doc Daye.

  Tommy reached out and grabbed hold of Morgan’s arm. He yanked the older man close, his rancid breath making Morgan recoil in disgust. “The Monster’s nothin’ compared to the guy I work for! I bow down before the master of sin.”

  “Devil worshipping, Tommy? That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “Leviathan is darkness incarnate,” Tommy continued, using the words of a zealot. “And he thinks the days of Assistance Unlimited should come to an end… so they will.”

  “Let go of me, Tommy.”

  “No. Not until you see the truth.” Tommy opened his mouth, stretching it so wide that Morgan could hear the man’s jaw cracking. Something dark and moist emerged from Tommy’s gagging throat, its scales shimmering in the moonlight. The serpent, dripping fangs bared, shot forth toward Morgan.

  With a startled yell, Morgan yanked his arm free and fell to the ground, even as the snake continued to escape from Tommy’s twitching form. The serpent began its descent, its vile eyes fixed on Morgan.

  “Shoot him!” Morgan screamed. To his dismay, Samantha shot the man, not the snake. Throwing his hands up to ward off the serpent, Morgan began uttering a series of obscenities. He was sure that this was the end and that he would meet his fate at the creature’s poisonous fangs. Not wanting to go out without a fight, he girded himself to attack the snake as best he could.

  For a moment, nothing seemed to happen – the snake was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Morgan looked around in confusion, seeing that Eun and Samantha were watching him closely.

  Eun knelt down beside him and asked, “You okay?”

  “The snake! Where did it go?”

  “Snake?” Eun looked at Samantha. “Did you see any snake?”

  As Samantha shook her head, Morgan scrambled to his feet. “The snake that crawled out of his mouth!” he said hotly. His normally picture-perfect tie and suit were disheveled. “You’re telling me that you didn’t see that?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Eun gestured around. The fog was still present but it was beginning to fade, carried away by a soft wind that had blown through. “There might be a snake around here but it sure didn’t pop out of his mouth!”

  “What the hell is going on out here?!”

  All three of them turned to see Inspector Cord and a small cadre of officers rushing down the street toward them, having finally been roused by the sound of gunfire.

  Morgan exhaled slowly, adjusting his tie. “Okay. This is now officially the strangest night I’ve had in awhile.”

  ***

  When the trio finally made their way back into their headquarters, they found Lazarus sitting in the welcoming area, tiny spots of blood on his clothing.

  “Chief!” Samantha exclaimed. “What happened?”

  “Our base was attacked,” he answered in that clinical fashion they were so familiar with. “The men committed suicide rather than face capture. They said their leader was named Leviathan.”

  “We ran into some of his goons, too,” Eun responded. “We think they might have engineered some kind of fog to hide their presence – and then they must have drugged Morgan, because he was seeing things that weren’t there.”

  Lazarus stood up, placing hands on hips and facing his friends. “I’ve been doing some digging through my newspaper clippings file. The name Leviathan… it’s linked to criminal activity all over the globe. During Richard Winthrop’s days with The Illuminati, he was told that Leviathan was a myth, that there was no all-powerful figure that was directing the underworld. But that may have been a lie.”

  “Who is he supposed to be?” Morgan asked, stepping forward. He remained standing, leaning against the armrest of a couch, while Samantha and Eun took seats.

  “There are lots of stories but the one that comes up most often says he’s a former war hero who made a deal with the devil – he was granted renewed life in return for his service in the cause of evil. Regardless of whether or not that’s true, there’s someone out there using the name Leviathan – and he’s targeted us.”

  “What are we going to do about it?” Eun asked, cracking his knuckles. The look of anticipation on his face made it clear that he was wanting for some action.

  “We need to track him down,” Lazarus answered. “And I think I have an idea where he might be hiding.” Lazarus reached into a pocket and retrieved a small slip of paper. He held it out to Morgan. “Do you mind reading it aloud?”

  Morgan stared at the words for a moment and then said, “Retrieve any files from Gray’s office that appear to be of interest and then turn them over to M. Garrity.”

  “M. Garrity?” Samantha asked. “That name rings a bell….”

  “It should,” Lazarus confirmed. “Matthew Garrity works and lives in Salem, Massachusetts. When we were taking down The Illuminati, we investigated him because his name turned up in several of the papers Morgan recovered during an investigation of the group’s Parisian storehouses. We were never able to pin him down directly to The Illuminati… but all of us felt he was up to no good.”

  “So are we heading to Salem now?” Morgan asked.

  “All of you rest up for a bit. Meet me back down here in about three hours. Then we’ll go pay Mr. Garrity a visit – and find out just what he knows about Leviathan.”

  Chapter V

  African Screams

  Thunder Jim strode through the crowded streets of Cairo, a cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth. He wore jodhpurs and a khaki shirt. The shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, revealing a smooth but well-tanned set of pectorals.

  Cairo was alive with activity and the marketplace was the beating heart of the city. The sights and sounds were quite familiar to Wade, who had not only spent most of the formative years of his youth in Africa but had visited the continent on numerous occasions since.

  The Kafe Klaris lay situated between a small temple and a supply store. Opened a few years prior, it catered to tourists, playing up their misconceptions about Egypt’s history. At night, the band - swathed in bandages - played modern tunes while the waitresses wore elaborate but inaccurate period clothing. Sarcophagi and stuffed cats were artfully arranged for full effect.

  Wade and his men generally preferred more authentic dives when visiting the city but Kafe Klaris could be counted on for several things: attractive female staff, excellent cuisine and Josef the Liar.

  Despite his nickname, Josef was one of the most trustworthy men in all of Cairo. Sixty years old, thin as a rail, and possessed of a bottomless appetite for alcohol and women, Josef spent nearly all his waking hours at the Kafe Klaris, sitting in a booth near the back. He made money by selling secrets, frequently trading one bit of information for another that could profit him later.

  Wade ignored the man at the door, pushing past him with barely a glance. The fellow started to complain but upon closer examination, he recognized Wade and thought better of it.

  “Josef!” Wade said, sliding into the booth alongside the Egyptian. “It’s been too long.”

  Josef, remembering how well Wade had paid him in the past, was all too quick to agree. “What can I help you with, Mr. Thunder?”

  “Hell, you can call me Jim, if you want.”

  “Very good!” Josef exclaimed. “Jim!”

  Wade smiled and gestured for a pretty, dark-haired waitress to bring both of them drinks. When she returned, Wade took a sip and allowed the burning liquid to slide down his throat. “I want to know about Leviathan,” he said at last, once the alcohol had sunk to his stomach.

  Very quickly, Josef shook his head. “I don’t know about this person.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Josef started to rise but Wade caught him by the wrist, holding him fast. “I’ve never seen you refuse to offer up information. You haven’t even bothered naming your price!”

  Josef leaned in close, lowering his voice. “There is no amount of money worth this! You do not know what you are asking. Forget that name!”

  “I can’t. Leviathan sent men to kill me at my home and my friends Red and Dirk were attacked in America.”

  “Then it is too late, my friend. Leviathan will not be denied. If you are a target of his, then it is only a matter of time until you depart this world.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Wade dabbed out his cigarette in an ashtray and reached into one of his pockets. He pulled out a thick wad of cash and pushed it into Josef’s hands. The older man gawked at the money and then hurriedly shoved it out of sight. “Just tell me what you know,” Wade said. “If it pans out, I’ll consider making you a rich man for the rest of your life. A fair deal.”

  Josef sighed, lowering his eyes. He seemed to be resigning himself to the fact that he was about to take his life in his hands. “They say he was born in Europe but no one knows his true name. Some claim that he was killed in 1915, during the Great War. That as he lay rotting on the field of battle, a demonic force came to him, swathed in crimson. The horned demon woke up the man’s spirit and offered to let him live anew, in exchange for his soul and an eternal vow of servitude. The man agreed and in that moment he became both more and less than human. He became Leviathan. Now he oversees a worldwide organization that focuses on white slavery, prostitution and drug peddling. He wants to corrupt the innocent.”

  Wade shook his head. “I don’t want legends or lies. You and I both know that we’re dealing with a flesh and blood man – a brilliant one capable of controlling the minds of others, perhaps – but he’s as human as you or I. So skip the bull and get to the facts. Where can I find him?”

  “It is said that he has a base on every continent.”

  “So there’s one here in Africa,” Wade said, pleased that the trail seemed clearer. At least one of the men – and possibly all – which attacked his island base was from the African lair of Leviathan. “Can you tell me where--?”

  Josef looked hesitant. “I wish you would not do this. I like you, Jim. You are a good, decent man, and there are not many like you in this world.”

  “I can’t ignore the existence of someone like Leviathan. Even if he wasn’t coming after me, I’d do everything I could to smash this cartel of his.”

  “I know.” Josef sat back, shaking his head. “It is inevitable, that two great forces who are so different should eventually clash. His lair is hidden deep in the jungle, far from the civilized places of Africa.” Josef called over a waitress and requested paper and pencil. When they had been provided, he quickly sketched out a rough map and handed it to Wade. “May Allah have mercy upon you.”

  “Save your prayers for Leviathan,” Wade replied with a grin. “He’s going to need them.”

  ***

  Illuminated by moonlight, The Thunderbug traveled down the river at a steady clip, partially submerged. Josef’s directions had led Wade far from Cairo. He felt a pang of regret that Red and Dirk weren’t with him – not only could he have used their skills but he missed their company, as well.

  He finally brought the nearly silent vessel to a halt. The river was narrowing up ahead and from the maps he’d been studying, Leviathan’s lair was located a bit inland. As Wade opened the hatch, a series of startled herons took flight and a crocodile slid from the bank, vanishing into the river’s gloom.

  Wade paused for a moment, staring into the eyes of a rhino that had been drinking from the river when the Thunderbug approached. The great beast snorted and pawed at the earth before turning round and leaving.

 

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