Part 12 (1/2)

Curt jerked the pistol again, backed the clerk up another pace. They were both of them tucked out of sight along the back aisle. He kept the cleric towards him, even though he couldn't stand that ugly mask staring back at him. Ha, scared out of his wits, yeah.

The door opened and Curt flinched, even though he'd known the bell was going to ring.

Curt's sweat was turning cold and clammy against the pistol grip. Quietly, he took another swig of the Wild Turkey and kept the pistol centred on the cleric's face.

'Hi their! Anybody home?'

Parker rapped his knuckles on the counter, then flipped his hands over to turn it into a drumbeat. He whistled. Boy did he miss his music. Melody rarely let him enjoy the in-car stereo, accusing him of hogging it with his prog rock.

Sad but true, he and his partner had such diverse tastes: she had none, he had some, as he'd teased her one time. He smiled as he recalled the minor bruise he'd sustained as a result.

With a sniff, he surveyed the store.

As the town's main store its shelves were stocked with the full range of goods, from hardware to groceries, and it was one of those typical country stores you expect to find in small New England towns. Even the trace of dust in the air seemed like it counted itself as part of the establishment's charm. It wasn't the sort of place Parker would ever choose to do his shopping, and the clothing department probably amounted to a few lumberjack s.h.i.+rts, but he had at least antic.i.p.ated some personal and friendly service.

For the moment, though, the counter stood unmanned.

I want candy, d.a.m.n It! Parker thought about shouting his demand and pounding on the counter with his fist for good measure. Parker thought about shouting his demand and pounding on the counter with his fist for good measure.

He sighed, craning over the counter to see if there was a door through to a storeroom at the back. It looked like there was. but it was shut. Maybe the staff were sneaking a smoke or coffee break out there and hadn't heard him. 'Hi there!

h.e.l.lo!' he called again.

Parker wandered along the counter to the back of the store.

He could at least see if the door was locked, have a quick poke around. It was in his nature.

As he drew level with the rear aisle, something made him look right.

'Oh, hey, I didn't realise you had a customer,' he smiled at the clerk's back and the armed drunk in the corner. 'That's okay, I don't mind waiting in line.'

The drunk motioned for him to raise his hands. Parker kindly obliged.

Captain Morgan Shaw brought a gust of icy wind into the hotel lobby along with his small entourage. Derm and his NCOs kept pace, while Makenzie lagged in the rear. The tramp of so many boots jangled the chandelier overhead like a fragile tambourine.

A woman scooted out from reception and headed him off.

'Morgan Shaw,' she said. 'Your man said if I had any problems I should take them up with his Captain. He didn't mention it was you.' Then, as a quick addendum. 'h.e.l.lo, Makenzie.'

Makenzie must have tipped his hat like the real gentleman.

Morgan settled for a courteous smirk. 'Janny. What can I say? I realise this must be a major headache, but trust me, your hotel will be fully compensated for the inconvenience.'

Janny's eyes sparkled patiently. She was a robust sort, her brown hair only now starting to silver. Morgan was sure she'd keep her good looks right up to when they put her in the ground. 'Your brother always was a smooth talker, wasn't he, Mak?' she remarked. 'Now he's out playing soldiers in other people's back yards, he hasn't changed so much.'

'Guess not, Janny.'

Morgan grit his teeth behind tight lips. What was with these people, they couldn't see the uniform? Mak too, ignoring the Captain and treating him like a kid brother. Get over it. He had enough to contend with right now and he didn't want all his ire getting sapped before he got to the Doc.

'Janny, my team gives you any trouble, you have any complaints, take it up with Makenzie. He'll pa.s.s it on.

Meanwhile, I'm kind of busy, so if you'll excuse me-'

He spun for the dining room, not waiting on her answer.

'You make yourselves at home,' Janny called after him. 'Just you take care and mind my fixtures, is all.'

Lord have mercy. He felt like he'd just talked to an ex-girlfriend, and he realised the whole town was like that.

Melvin Village. Once his home, she was familiar and even retained a degree of warmth when he thought of her; but man, the distance that separated them now was a chasm.

And if he could get through this mission without having to cross it, that would suit him just fine.

Now where the h.e.l.l was I? Oh yeah. Morgan threw back the dining room doors.

The Doc, the girl and Pydych looked his way at once.

'Ah. Captain, I'm glad you could make it. You'll never guess what we've found out.'

Morgan Shaw took a deep breath 'Impress me,' he ordered.

Guns or no, Martha had wanted to scream into the guards'

faces. The two soldiers posted at the hotel door had helpfully told her the Police Chief was inside with the Captain, and yeah, the girl was in there too. Then they'd stared back like she was crazy when she'd demanded to be let through.

While Martha wondered which guard to scream at first, a voice of perfect calm had said, 'Agent Quartararo.' A single flash of an ID set both guards standing straight, and Melody led her through into the lobby. Simple as that. Martha was annoyed that the woman had proved so useful. She didn't want to be fooled into thinking they were on the same side.

Inside the lobby, Janny Meeks lurked behind her desk, immediately giving Martha one of her holier-than-thou looks.

A voice, like a velvet-stringed cello, floated out from the hotel dining room, saying. 'Whoever attacked your aircraft.

Captain, they had to be after the Stormcore.'

Martha went over and yanked the door open. She was met by Makenzie's broad back.

Past him there was a small gathering of soldiers, a dark-haired young guy - had to be the Captain - being a tall, bizarre character with a sort of permed lion's mane. Another soldier, with gla.s.ses and a face wrinkled like a pale raisin, was standing over what might have been a junkyard sale; and at the far end of the room was Amber.

Makenzie turned his head, surprised and not ecstatic to see her. The soldiers did an about-face. There was something vaguely familiar about the young Captain.

'But if your cultist friends had brought it down with some psychic a.s.sault. I can't help thinking they should have known precisely where to look for it.' The tall weirdo didn't seem to mind her intrusion in the least. He carried on flapping his battered hat about as he spoke, and she caught his words as a kind of backing track. 'By which token we should have found it at that house, taking pride of place in their collection already, wouldn't you agree? We're missing something terribly important. Hallo'.' Hallo'.'

Martha realised the man was addressing her, eyes all huge and friendly - and faintly disturbing. She tried to ignore the sudden attention and looked across at her daughter. 'Amber, honey, your Mom needs to talk to you.' Then she tugged at Mak's sleeve. 'And you. Mak. Something's come up.'

'Jeez, Kenzie!' the Captain threw up a prolonged shrug.

Martha recognised the face then: Makenzie's brother.

Makenzie didn't keep any pictures on display but there were plenty in the old photo alb.u.ms. 'Can you please take your domestics elsewhere?'