Broken People (Serial)

Seventeen

While he crawled out from underneath the car, Dale wondered whether they were going to thank him or set the dogs on him when this was over. He didn't fancy either alternative. The circus had some mean-looking poodles.

For the last hour, he had followed the thugs through the city, which wasn't easy since he didn't blend in because of the lack of visible prosthetics. When they left downtown, Dale had repossessed a taxi from a sleepy driver. With the lights turned off, he had tailed the black car across the deserted field, keeping his distance. That was why, when he parked it near an abandoned warehouse, he only knew the direction in which they had gone.

Dale had cut across the field towards the railway tracks, barely seeing the uneven ground in his haste. Only long-dormant instincts had kept him from falling and breaking something. Then the bright lights of the circus had nearly blinded him, making it impossible to spot any action near the cars on his side of the train. The thugs had disappeared, and he found no broken or open windows, either. When he looked up, he saw the shadows running along the rooftop of the car.

He could have followed the same path, risking running straight into them, but the strategist in him wouldn't allow it, not when he knew their destination. He crawled underneath the car and emerged on the other side. The loud noises and blinking lights threatened to make him dizzy, but he didn't let them distract him. He walked to the third car and clasped the door handle with both hands. The muscles in his arms tensed, his joints locked, and he pulled. Whatever mechanism kept the door closed broke, and the door slid open.

Dale climbed inside.

The inner door was also open. Two bulky silhouettes staggered among hazy clouds of smoke. Dale brought a hand to his throat. He hadn't expected a chemical attack. While his body was trained to fight several types of poison, it didn't recognize this one. His knees turned to jelly. Two meters away from him, the thugs collapsed on the floor with loud thuds.

As the fog cleared, a yellow spot in his peripheral vision became a blonde woman whose appearance looked vaguely familiar. When she turned around, Dale noticed a golden mask covered her face.

"Oh, crap!" She ran to him, a syringe in her hand.

Dale forced his head upward, so he could look at her. He'd fallen on his knees but didn't remember it happening. "What's that?" he croaked.

The mask gleamed in the shallow light, shades of darker gold swirling on her face. "It will keep you awake. Do you want to sleep for the next four hours?"

Since he didn't answer, she plunged the needle into his chest. Sensitivity returned in Dale's extremities, accompanied by a faint tingle. His head took longer to clear, and seeing the mask disintegrate into small pieces that migrated off her face and disappeared behind her hairline didn't help convince him he wasn't hallucinating.

The young woman emitted a low, long whistle. "Just ... wait here." She rushed back to Cole.

"Shouldn't you give him something, too?" Dale asked.

"No. He's already got too many drugs in his system. I don't dare interfere," she said with a slow shake of her head. "I'll let them do it."

Them? Dale grasped the edge of a table and pulled himself up, only to find her staring at him, eyes wide.

"How did you do that? You were supposed to be immobilized for another half-hour at least." She took a step back and whispered, "What are you?"

The knife throwers burst in, cutting off Dale's chance to answer, though he didn't know what he would have told her anyway.

"Cielo, what happened?" Spinner asked. "Are you all right?"

"These happened." Cielo pointed at the two men splayed on the floor. "How did they get in? I thought we used better protection than that."

It felt odd to listen to the girl scold the older, bigger men. They could have broken her in half with one hand without any effort at all. Still, Spinner lowered his eyes, and Rake grunted.

"We had to take the wards down when we crossed the Moldavian border, or they wouldn't have let us pass. There was no need for them until now," Rake said.

Cielo's glare aimed at the two aggressors-turned-victims said there was a need.

"But how did they get in?" Spinner asked. "The door was nearly pulled off its hinges. You need dynamite to do that, and we didn't hear any explosion."

"They didn't come in through the door," Cielo said.

"That—" Dale raised a hand, "—would be me."

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at him.

"You ... tore it open, just like that?" Spinner asked, taking a step closer, and looked at him up and down.

"I was coming after them, but I was late. I knew Cole was in here, so I went right through." He glanced at Cielo. "It turned out I wasn't needed after all."

"You turned on the gas?" Spinner asked Cielo. "Oh, dear ..." He ran off to check on Cole.

"I'd like to take a look at your muscles when this is over," Rake said, moving at a leisurely pace after Spinner.

They worked for several minutes, adding vials to the drip and turning dials on the machines, until they were contented with the readings on the screens.

"Okay, he's stable now," Spinner said, "but I wouldn't recommend gassing him again in the near future."

"Can you still do the grafting?" Dale asked. "I mean tonight."

"Yeah, he's out cold." Spinner nodded. "It doesn't matter how ..."

"You don't care much what happens to him as long as you get what you want, do you?" Rake asked casually.

"We've come too far to stop now. If we fail, everything is lost," Dale said.

Cielo shifted in place. "Guys, I have to go ..."

"Wait," Rake said and turned to Dale. "Do you know what they came for?"

"Spare parts," Dale said.

"Anything else? Did they mention the Nightingale?"

"No. It didn't sound like an ordered hit."

"Good," Rake said, and both knife throwers visibly relaxed.

"I'm off." Cielo gathered her skirt in her hand and headed for the opening with an absent door.

Spinner picked up the syringe from the floor and arched an eyebrow at Dale. "Mr. Armstrong, can you walk?" Dale nodded. "Then please make sure Cielo arrives safely at the arena. We'll cover the ground here. Your friend will be safe."

Dale did his best to hide his hesitation. He needed the cooperation of these people, and while Spinner's voice had remained friendly, this wasn't a request. Without saying a word, Dale followed after Cielo. Her yellow dress would be easily found in the crowd and, unfortunately, not only by him.