"Tournament of Psychos" II
VII.
In the shadow of two white birch trees, Jeremy Bane studied the area. His visor's light amplifying function gave him a view that was not as clear as noon on a sunny day but which was good enough for his purposes. In his all-black field suit, he himself was nearly invisible on an overcast winter night.
A soft beep sounded inside his helmet. He reached up and tapped the left ear pod once, a signal that meant he could listen but didn't want to speak himself. Cindy's voice told him what she had learned about Eckhardt and the steps she had taken. She wished Bane good luck. He tapped the ear pod twice, signifying he had heard her and that he was okay. The Dire Wolf's full attention focused where he had seen movement in the gloom. Light spilled out from the lecture hall as the door open and a young couple strolled out arm in arm.
The readout on the inside of Bane's visor read 8:38PM, so the lecture couldn't be over yet. He glided closer, silent and unseen, his natural stealth enhanced by years of training. The boy and girl moving past him like more than twenty and they were clinched together so tightly a crowbar would be needed to pry them apart. Bane had nothing against young lovers. By themselves, they were none of his business. But they were perfect targets for a human predator.
The Dire Wolf froze motionless as he heard light footfalls coming around the corner of the building. A short wiry man in a leather jacket and khaki pants tip-toed past him, almost within reach. The couple were lost in a happy daze of kissing and fondling where they would not have heard Charlie Pantera approach if he had been stomping his feet as loudly as he could.
The killer from Texas stalked toward them. His right arm went up and back with a butcher in its grip-- and then a steel-capped boot exploded between his shoulder blades with impact that drove the air from his lungs and threw him face down on the cold grass with a thud.
The young lovers finally took notice. The girl squeaked like a mouse and the boy drawled, "Whoa..."
Standing over the sprawled form of Pantera, Bane slid the visor up on its internal track and raised his voice. You two get away from here and don't look back." His voice was stern and unfriendly at the best of times and now it sounded like a judgement of doom. The two students took off full tilt without a word.
In the light from the open doorway, Charlie Pantera was far from an imposing sight. The leather jacket and khaki pants were shabby, his longish black hair looked greasy and he had a ratlike face with too much nose and not enough chin. Even after that impact, he had kept a grip on his butcher knife Holding it close to his body with the point angled up, Pantera got to his feet and menaced the strange man in black.
"Take your best shot, kid," Bane said.
Charlie Pantera grunted and lunged forward. He might have gutted most civilians with that thrust, but he was hopelessly outmatched against the Dire Wolf. Bane slapped the knife hand aside with a circular block of his own right hand and smacked a simple jab that broke Pantera's nose and dazed him further. As the butcher knife clattered on the paving, Bane stepped in close. A straight punch to the gut doubled the serial killer double and an uppercut straightened him out again. Pantera fell backwards and landed hard on the short dry grass just behind him.
Bane didn't take any pride in the one-sided fight. With his innate speed and his Kumundu training, knocking out a regular Human was nothing for him to brag about. This was simply something he had to have done to prevent further murders by this pyscho. Glancing around to see that no one was in sight, he dropped to his knees and examined the killer from Texas. Pantera's nose was skewed to one side but it wasn't bleeding. The boy's breathing was deep and unstrained, his pulse was steady. There might some damage from the concussion but that would have to wait for after the police took Pantera into custody.
Seizing the unconscious man under the arms, Bane dragged him around to the shadows at the rear of the building. Here was the propane tank he had spotted earlier. With the handcuffs he carried at the rear of his belt, the Dire Wolf secured Pantera's wrists around a thick pipe that even a pro bodybuilder couldn't get loose. He then ejected the clip from his air pistol to removed one of the anesthetic darts. Jabbing its point into the grimy skin of the killer's neck, Bane noticed the man instantly relaxed and began breathing easier. An hour sedation would actually be a mercy, he thought with his sardonic sense of humor. At least Pantera wouldn't be coming back to painful consciousness right away.
One out of three, the Dire Wolf thought, and the least dangerous of the three at that. He went over to retrieve the knife, saw nothing distinctive about it except for the nicks marking the handle in a row like the notches on the gun of an Old West badman. He placed it well out of reach if Pantera revived sooner than expected, then surveyed the scene. Unless a security guard came around with a flashlight, the odds were against anyone seeing the killer handcuffed and senseless up against the propane tank.
A low beep sounded inside his helmet. He pressed the left ear pod and said, "I can talk, Cin. What's your situation?"
"Are you okay? What happened? I felt your adrenalin surge a minute ago," came his partner's voice.
"It was Pantera," Bane said. "He was nothing special. I've got him sedated and cuffed. What's going on with you?"
"Listen, I think I've spotted one of our pyschos. He's got the same tight mental defenses as Eckhardt. I want to make friends with him to stall him before he gets away but you have to nail Eckhardt."
"Forget Eckhardt. You're playing with the most dangerous maniac alive. I'll be watching from out of your line of sight and I'll be ready to step in---"
"No, no," she insisted. The telepath filled her partner in on her discoveries. "You have to nab Eckhardt before he gets away. This is our chance to tie everything up neatly. I can handle this other guy, Jeremy. Remember some of the monsters I've nailed?"
"I suppose," Bane said grudgingly. Unlatching his helmet, he strode hurriedly toward the entrance near the lecture hall.
VIII.
Stepping unnoticed into the lecture hall, Cindy stayed on the fringe of the class as they gathered up their notes. There was a certain amount of chatter and joshing, and a few students remained around Eckhardt to ask a few further questions.
One man stayed aloof by himself, the one whose mind had the same opaque closed-off quality as Eckhardt. He seemed about forty, tall and slender and well-dressed in a tailored suit. With a mop of thick black hair and a finely-chiseled face, he was undeniably handsome. But there was something in his eyes, something demonic and mocking, that alarmed Cindy at once.
He was heading toward where she stood. Cindy had opened her coat and now she pulled it back to display her impressive breasts, which seemed larger on her tiny frame. She had always been pretty. Sometimes it was a nuisance but just as often her looks had been useful. Now she sensed a testosterone surge escape his strict mental control as he saw her.
Putting on a shy smile, the telepath said, "Hi. Would you mind walking me to my car?"
"I'd like that," he answered smoothly enough. "My name is Derek."
"Cindy. I can't believe I'm being so bold, but as soon as our eyes met, I felt a connection. As if we've known each other for years."
He held the exit door for her and escorted her across the rapidly emptying parking lot. "Nothing wrong with that, Cindy. To be honest, I felt the strangest little jolt of recognition when I saw you, too. It was like a voice telling me to come say hi."
It was the telepathic contact, Cindy Brunner thought to herself. They exchanged a few more pleasantries. By the time they reached her Mustang, the last car full of students was pulling away. She zipped up her coat and leaned closer. "But that's not what I wanted to ask you."
"I'm all yours," he said. In the gloom of that corner of the lot, his smile was a perfect flash of gleaming teeth.
Cindy moved back a few steps, sliding her hands into her coat pockets. Her voice remained light and undramatic. "I'm so surprised you don't wear any disguise at all. The FBI and the police of a dozen states have been hunting for you for years. And yet you turn up without a fake beard or dyed hair of even eyeglasses."
For an instant, the self-assured pose fell away. Hot fury blazed up in those blue eyes as if a veil had been torn away. His voice was ominously low and restrained as he said, "What ARE you talking about, young lady?"
"And you show up at a lecture of serial killers, of all things," she went on. "Taught by a famous authority on the subject. Talk about nerve. What would you have done if Dr Eckhardt has yelled out, 'Oh My God, there's Samhain right in the third row?'"
IX.
As the last student left the hall, Bane came through with his helmet tucked under one arm. He was trying not to look sinister so as to avoid attention but the black outfit and the cold grey eyes made that difficult. He was not good as working in disguise or undercover.
Eckhardt had pulled on his overcoat and was placing the shapeless felt hat on his head when he caught sight of the Dire Wolf. "Ah! Good evening. Any news?"
"Plenty," said Bane. "It's been a busy night. This has to be quick. First, Charlie Pantera is tied up outside, a little battered and sedated."
"Really." Not much expression showed in Eckhardt's voice. "Excellent work, Mr Bane."
"Also, right now my partner Cindy is outside talking with Samhain. He was at the lecture. I want to wrap this up to go help her, you can understand why."
For the first time, a flicker of alarm crossed the bland face. "Samhain.. HERE? In this very room?"
"Yes. And that's still not all." Bane moved closer, lowering his voice.
"Heavens, what an evening," said Eckhardt. He thrust both hands deep into his coat pockets and raised his shoulders. "What else could be going on?"
"They found the body of the real Cameron Eckhardt."
"Oh, no, that's imp-" The man caught himself a fraction of a second too late. A burst of sudden anger shattered his impassive mask and suddenly he looked frightening.
"It's an old trick but it still works enough to be worth a try," Bane said. "With Samhain at large, I don't have time for cat and mouse. You're busted, Dr Sabbath."
One of the mastermind's broad hands came up out of his coat pocket with the snub-nosed .32 revolver in its grasp. In a voice very different from the one he had been using the past few days, Sabbath said, "Don't even blink. Yes, you're fast but my finger only has to contract one-sixteenth of an inch and you can't dodge bullets. Flesh and blood has its limits."
Bane smirked and deliberately took a step closer, stomping his boot.
When the master serial killer fired, his gun blew apart in a white flash that broke his thumb and sent a chunk of hot metal spinnning backward to slice across his chin. Even as the blast echoed in the classroom, Bane lunged like a fencer and crashed an overhand left to the jaw that dropped Sabbath senseless to the floor.
"Cindy found your gun," the Dire Wolf said to the stunned man. "She wedged a dime into the barrel. She also found three different IDs in your checkbook, none of which matched each other. And as she listened to you talk about 'Dr Sabbath,' she realized you were bragging."
Kneeling over the killer, Bane injected him with one of the anesthetic darts. Dr Sabbath would be unconscious for at least an hour, and then nauseous and weak for a period after that. Wishing he carried a second pair of cuffs, the Dire Wolf tied his prisoner's wrists together with the man's own belt and then dragged him out of sight behind the desk. Even though he knew how formidable Cindy's telepathic mind could be when used as a weapon, he wanted to join her immediately. Turning off the lights and locking the door behind him, Bane ran full tilt down the deserted corridor for the nearest exit.
X.
Standing at arm's length from Samhain, left side touching her car, Cindy had drawn the anesthetic dart gun from its holster sewn inside her coat. She held it close to her body so he could not make an attempt at snatching it away.
Samhain's movie star face became diabolical as his mouth smiled but his eyes did not. "So you ARE a Tel Shai knight, eh? I thought that was telepathy tickling my brain. You're friends with that damned Dire Wolf character. Well. To answer your question, being identified doesn't worry me. Bullets are just annoying, handcuffs only take a minute to break and any minions of the law end up dead while I stroll away."
"Of course," she said. "You do have that enhanced healing factor."
"Exactly. I'm almost ninety years old, darling. I can't tell you how many times I've been shot, stabbed, drowned, poisoned, run over, buried alive... None of it stops me for too long."
Cindy made a disgusted noise. "Too bad a gift like that didn't go to a more deserving person."
"I think I should tell you a little secret, my dear." Samhain folded his topcoat and draped it over the roof of her car. "You're living with delusions. You are no better than I am. Humans are all aggressive, murderous animals by nature. We didn't become the dominant species on this planet by being meek and tender-hearted."
"Forget the sermons," she said. "Psychos always have rationalizations for what they do. No one is impressed."
The unkillable killer sighed. "If you yourself knew you could get away with killing people you disapprove of, and that no punishment would ever really affect you, you would soon turn out exactly like me. You have lethal impulses, we all do, but you repress your urge from fear of reprisal."
"Wrong, wrong, wrong." She extended the needle-barreled weapon toward him. "I am a telepath! I have been reading minds all my life. Don't you think I understand true human nature better than your twisted brain ever could?"
Samhain took a step toward her, gauging her reaction. "Well, we won't debate philosophy. The only real question is if I should use your body to draw your chum the Dire Wolf into a trap or if I should dispose of you so he spends years fretting and agonizing over what happened--"
The maniac's words stopped as four of the metal darts jabbed into the skin of his face and neck. The sting of the sharp points was immediately followed by a painful burning that usually distracted victims until the potent drug knocked them out a few seconds later. Samhain seemed more amused than annoyed. He brushed the darts off and moved closer. "Oh, seriously. You must know better than that. Lethal injections in the death house barely made me nauseous."
Even though she was watching him, Cindy was taken off-guard by how quickly he pounced. Samhain raised his left arm and pulled a thin wire from its reel within his watch, flinging the loop over her head and yanking it tight as a garrotte around her throat.
Instead of trying to get her fingers up inside the wire or to punch at Samhain, Cindy simply seemed to narrow her eyes. His head jerked back as if he had been struck in the forehead with a hammer. The immortal killer shrieked and threw himself backward in a convulsion that lifted him up off the ground to fall hard on his back. He showed no signs of life.
"Oooooh, you deserve that," Cindy muttered as she gingerly loosened the wire from around her throat. The skin had been broken and there was blood on her fingers. She glared down at the limp form at her feet. "You're the worst."
Bane came runnning to her out of the darkness. He gave the unmoving body a murderous glare before seeming to accept that Samhain was no immediate threat. "Sorry I got here just in time to see you fry his brain. How's your neck? Let me see it."
"It stings but I'll be okay. What happened to Eckhardt?"
Bane snorted as he examined her injury. "It turns out that 'Eckhardt' was Dr Sabbath all along. The real Eckhardt has been dead for days. The nerve of that guy! He even made a point of telling us that Dr Sabbath used false identities and ran elaborate hoaxes. He was rubbing it in our faces."
Walking over to where Samhain was sprawled, Cindy kneeled and took a pair of regulation handcuffs from her jacket. She fastened his right wrist to his left ankle, something police were not allowed to do but which certainly made escape for difficult. Rolling the dazed maniac over onto his back, Bane took off Samhain's belt and tied the man's other wrist to his other ankle, making the knots as tight as possible.
"Real Italian leather," the Dire Wolf observed. "That belt will help restrain him. This guy is impossible to kill. To be honest, I'm a little surprised he's still knocked out. That must have been quite a brain blast you gave him."
Cindy sniffed and folded her arms. "Yeah, well, I was annoyed with him."
"I bet." Bane started dragging the limp Samhain toward the trees at the edge of the parking lot. "We're going to have work fast, Cin. With your powers as a distraction, we can bring Dr Sabbath and Charlie Pantera over here before anybody sees us. Then we call the NYPD. My guess is that they'll bring the two lesser madmen to trial but Samhain... I think they'll turn Samhain over to Department 21 Black to be locked up in the Iron Mountain."
"Good luck with that," the telepath muttered. Suddenly she laughed and grabbed Bane by one sleeve. "Jeremy. I just realized we captured Samhain, Dr Sabbath AND Charlie Pantera. Wait until Klein gets here. He'll choke on his cigar!"
4/4/2000 - Rev 1/2/2018
In the shadow of two white birch trees, Jeremy Bane studied the area. His visor's light amplifying function gave him a view that was not as clear as noon on a sunny day but which was good enough for his purposes. In his all-black field suit, he himself was nearly invisible on an overcast winter night.
A soft beep sounded inside his helmet. He reached up and tapped the left ear pod once, a signal that meant he could listen but didn't want to speak himself. Cindy's voice told him what she had learned about Eckhardt and the steps she had taken. She wished Bane good luck. He tapped the ear pod twice, signifying he had heard her and that he was okay. The Dire Wolf's full attention focused where he had seen movement in the gloom. Light spilled out from the lecture hall as the door open and a young couple strolled out arm in arm.
The readout on the inside of Bane's visor read 8:38PM, so the lecture couldn't be over yet. He glided closer, silent and unseen, his natural stealth enhanced by years of training. The boy and girl moving past him like more than twenty and they were clinched together so tightly a crowbar would be needed to pry them apart. Bane had nothing against young lovers. By themselves, they were none of his business. But they were perfect targets for a human predator.
The Dire Wolf froze motionless as he heard light footfalls coming around the corner of the building. A short wiry man in a leather jacket and khaki pants tip-toed past him, almost within reach. The couple were lost in a happy daze of kissing and fondling where they would not have heard Charlie Pantera approach if he had been stomping his feet as loudly as he could.
The killer from Texas stalked toward them. His right arm went up and back with a butcher in its grip-- and then a steel-capped boot exploded between his shoulder blades with impact that drove the air from his lungs and threw him face down on the cold grass with a thud.
The young lovers finally took notice. The girl squeaked like a mouse and the boy drawled, "Whoa..."
Standing over the sprawled form of Pantera, Bane slid the visor up on its internal track and raised his voice. You two get away from here and don't look back." His voice was stern and unfriendly at the best of times and now it sounded like a judgement of doom. The two students took off full tilt without a word.
In the light from the open doorway, Charlie Pantera was far from an imposing sight. The leather jacket and khaki pants were shabby, his longish black hair looked greasy and he had a ratlike face with too much nose and not enough chin. Even after that impact, he had kept a grip on his butcher knife Holding it close to his body with the point angled up, Pantera got to his feet and menaced the strange man in black.
"Take your best shot, kid," Bane said.
Charlie Pantera grunted and lunged forward. He might have gutted most civilians with that thrust, but he was hopelessly outmatched against the Dire Wolf. Bane slapped the knife hand aside with a circular block of his own right hand and smacked a simple jab that broke Pantera's nose and dazed him further. As the butcher knife clattered on the paving, Bane stepped in close. A straight punch to the gut doubled the serial killer double and an uppercut straightened him out again. Pantera fell backwards and landed hard on the short dry grass just behind him.
Bane didn't take any pride in the one-sided fight. With his innate speed and his Kumundu training, knocking out a regular Human was nothing for him to brag about. This was simply something he had to have done to prevent further murders by this pyscho. Glancing around to see that no one was in sight, he dropped to his knees and examined the killer from Texas. Pantera's nose was skewed to one side but it wasn't bleeding. The boy's breathing was deep and unstrained, his pulse was steady. There might some damage from the concussion but that would have to wait for after the police took Pantera into custody.
Seizing the unconscious man under the arms, Bane dragged him around to the shadows at the rear of the building. Here was the propane tank he had spotted earlier. With the handcuffs he carried at the rear of his belt, the Dire Wolf secured Pantera's wrists around a thick pipe that even a pro bodybuilder couldn't get loose. He then ejected the clip from his air pistol to removed one of the anesthetic darts. Jabbing its point into the grimy skin of the killer's neck, Bane noticed the man instantly relaxed and began breathing easier. An hour sedation would actually be a mercy, he thought with his sardonic sense of humor. At least Pantera wouldn't be coming back to painful consciousness right away.
One out of three, the Dire Wolf thought, and the least dangerous of the three at that. He went over to retrieve the knife, saw nothing distinctive about it except for the nicks marking the handle in a row like the notches on the gun of an Old West badman. He placed it well out of reach if Pantera revived sooner than expected, then surveyed the scene. Unless a security guard came around with a flashlight, the odds were against anyone seeing the killer handcuffed and senseless up against the propane tank.
A low beep sounded inside his helmet. He pressed the left ear pod and said, "I can talk, Cin. What's your situation?"
"Are you okay? What happened? I felt your adrenalin surge a minute ago," came his partner's voice.
"It was Pantera," Bane said. "He was nothing special. I've got him sedated and cuffed. What's going on with you?"
"Listen, I think I've spotted one of our pyschos. He's got the same tight mental defenses as Eckhardt. I want to make friends with him to stall him before he gets away but you have to nail Eckhardt."
"Forget Eckhardt. You're playing with the most dangerous maniac alive. I'll be watching from out of your line of sight and I'll be ready to step in---"
"No, no," she insisted. The telepath filled her partner in on her discoveries. "You have to nab Eckhardt before he gets away. This is our chance to tie everything up neatly. I can handle this other guy, Jeremy. Remember some of the monsters I've nailed?"
"I suppose," Bane said grudgingly. Unlatching his helmet, he strode hurriedly toward the entrance near the lecture hall.
VIII.
Stepping unnoticed into the lecture hall, Cindy stayed on the fringe of the class as they gathered up their notes. There was a certain amount of chatter and joshing, and a few students remained around Eckhardt to ask a few further questions.
One man stayed aloof by himself, the one whose mind had the same opaque closed-off quality as Eckhardt. He seemed about forty, tall and slender and well-dressed in a tailored suit. With a mop of thick black hair and a finely-chiseled face, he was undeniably handsome. But there was something in his eyes, something demonic and mocking, that alarmed Cindy at once.
He was heading toward where she stood. Cindy had opened her coat and now she pulled it back to display her impressive breasts, which seemed larger on her tiny frame. She had always been pretty. Sometimes it was a nuisance but just as often her looks had been useful. Now she sensed a testosterone surge escape his strict mental control as he saw her.
Putting on a shy smile, the telepath said, "Hi. Would you mind walking me to my car?"
"I'd like that," he answered smoothly enough. "My name is Derek."
"Cindy. I can't believe I'm being so bold, but as soon as our eyes met, I felt a connection. As if we've known each other for years."
He held the exit door for her and escorted her across the rapidly emptying parking lot. "Nothing wrong with that, Cindy. To be honest, I felt the strangest little jolt of recognition when I saw you, too. It was like a voice telling me to come say hi."
It was the telepathic contact, Cindy Brunner thought to herself. They exchanged a few more pleasantries. By the time they reached her Mustang, the last car full of students was pulling away. She zipped up her coat and leaned closer. "But that's not what I wanted to ask you."
"I'm all yours," he said. In the gloom of that corner of the lot, his smile was a perfect flash of gleaming teeth.
Cindy moved back a few steps, sliding her hands into her coat pockets. Her voice remained light and undramatic. "I'm so surprised you don't wear any disguise at all. The FBI and the police of a dozen states have been hunting for you for years. And yet you turn up without a fake beard or dyed hair of even eyeglasses."
For an instant, the self-assured pose fell away. Hot fury blazed up in those blue eyes as if a veil had been torn away. His voice was ominously low and restrained as he said, "What ARE you talking about, young lady?"
"And you show up at a lecture of serial killers, of all things," she went on. "Taught by a famous authority on the subject. Talk about nerve. What would you have done if Dr Eckhardt has yelled out, 'Oh My God, there's Samhain right in the third row?'"
IX.
As the last student left the hall, Bane came through with his helmet tucked under one arm. He was trying not to look sinister so as to avoid attention but the black outfit and the cold grey eyes made that difficult. He was not good as working in disguise or undercover.
Eckhardt had pulled on his overcoat and was placing the shapeless felt hat on his head when he caught sight of the Dire Wolf. "Ah! Good evening. Any news?"
"Plenty," said Bane. "It's been a busy night. This has to be quick. First, Charlie Pantera is tied up outside, a little battered and sedated."
"Really." Not much expression showed in Eckhardt's voice. "Excellent work, Mr Bane."
"Also, right now my partner Cindy is outside talking with Samhain. He was at the lecture. I want to wrap this up to go help her, you can understand why."
For the first time, a flicker of alarm crossed the bland face. "Samhain.. HERE? In this very room?"
"Yes. And that's still not all." Bane moved closer, lowering his voice.
"Heavens, what an evening," said Eckhardt. He thrust both hands deep into his coat pockets and raised his shoulders. "What else could be going on?"
"They found the body of the real Cameron Eckhardt."
"Oh, no, that's imp-" The man caught himself a fraction of a second too late. A burst of sudden anger shattered his impassive mask and suddenly he looked frightening.
"It's an old trick but it still works enough to be worth a try," Bane said. "With Samhain at large, I don't have time for cat and mouse. You're busted, Dr Sabbath."
One of the mastermind's broad hands came up out of his coat pocket with the snub-nosed .32 revolver in its grasp. In a voice very different from the one he had been using the past few days, Sabbath said, "Don't even blink. Yes, you're fast but my finger only has to contract one-sixteenth of an inch and you can't dodge bullets. Flesh and blood has its limits."
Bane smirked and deliberately took a step closer, stomping his boot.
When the master serial killer fired, his gun blew apart in a white flash that broke his thumb and sent a chunk of hot metal spinnning backward to slice across his chin. Even as the blast echoed in the classroom, Bane lunged like a fencer and crashed an overhand left to the jaw that dropped Sabbath senseless to the floor.
"Cindy found your gun," the Dire Wolf said to the stunned man. "She wedged a dime into the barrel. She also found three different IDs in your checkbook, none of which matched each other. And as she listened to you talk about 'Dr Sabbath,' she realized you were bragging."
Kneeling over the killer, Bane injected him with one of the anesthetic darts. Dr Sabbath would be unconscious for at least an hour, and then nauseous and weak for a period after that. Wishing he carried a second pair of cuffs, the Dire Wolf tied his prisoner's wrists together with the man's own belt and then dragged him out of sight behind the desk. Even though he knew how formidable Cindy's telepathic mind could be when used as a weapon, he wanted to join her immediately. Turning off the lights and locking the door behind him, Bane ran full tilt down the deserted corridor for the nearest exit.
X.
Standing at arm's length from Samhain, left side touching her car, Cindy had drawn the anesthetic dart gun from its holster sewn inside her coat. She held it close to her body so he could not make an attempt at snatching it away.
Samhain's movie star face became diabolical as his mouth smiled but his eyes did not. "So you ARE a Tel Shai knight, eh? I thought that was telepathy tickling my brain. You're friends with that damned Dire Wolf character. Well. To answer your question, being identified doesn't worry me. Bullets are just annoying, handcuffs only take a minute to break and any minions of the law end up dead while I stroll away."
"Of course," she said. "You do have that enhanced healing factor."
"Exactly. I'm almost ninety years old, darling. I can't tell you how many times I've been shot, stabbed, drowned, poisoned, run over, buried alive... None of it stops me for too long."
Cindy made a disgusted noise. "Too bad a gift like that didn't go to a more deserving person."
"I think I should tell you a little secret, my dear." Samhain folded his topcoat and draped it over the roof of her car. "You're living with delusions. You are no better than I am. Humans are all aggressive, murderous animals by nature. We didn't become the dominant species on this planet by being meek and tender-hearted."
"Forget the sermons," she said. "Psychos always have rationalizations for what they do. No one is impressed."
The unkillable killer sighed. "If you yourself knew you could get away with killing people you disapprove of, and that no punishment would ever really affect you, you would soon turn out exactly like me. You have lethal impulses, we all do, but you repress your urge from fear of reprisal."
"Wrong, wrong, wrong." She extended the needle-barreled weapon toward him. "I am a telepath! I have been reading minds all my life. Don't you think I understand true human nature better than your twisted brain ever could?"
Samhain took a step toward her, gauging her reaction. "Well, we won't debate philosophy. The only real question is if I should use your body to draw your chum the Dire Wolf into a trap or if I should dispose of you so he spends years fretting and agonizing over what happened--"
The maniac's words stopped as four of the metal darts jabbed into the skin of his face and neck. The sting of the sharp points was immediately followed by a painful burning that usually distracted victims until the potent drug knocked them out a few seconds later. Samhain seemed more amused than annoyed. He brushed the darts off and moved closer. "Oh, seriously. You must know better than that. Lethal injections in the death house barely made me nauseous."
Even though she was watching him, Cindy was taken off-guard by how quickly he pounced. Samhain raised his left arm and pulled a thin wire from its reel within his watch, flinging the loop over her head and yanking it tight as a garrotte around her throat.
Instead of trying to get her fingers up inside the wire or to punch at Samhain, Cindy simply seemed to narrow her eyes. His head jerked back as if he had been struck in the forehead with a hammer. The immortal killer shrieked and threw himself backward in a convulsion that lifted him up off the ground to fall hard on his back. He showed no signs of life.
"Oooooh, you deserve that," Cindy muttered as she gingerly loosened the wire from around her throat. The skin had been broken and there was blood on her fingers. She glared down at the limp form at her feet. "You're the worst."
Bane came runnning to her out of the darkness. He gave the unmoving body a murderous glare before seeming to accept that Samhain was no immediate threat. "Sorry I got here just in time to see you fry his brain. How's your neck? Let me see it."
"It stings but I'll be okay. What happened to Eckhardt?"
Bane snorted as he examined her injury. "It turns out that 'Eckhardt' was Dr Sabbath all along. The real Eckhardt has been dead for days. The nerve of that guy! He even made a point of telling us that Dr Sabbath used false identities and ran elaborate hoaxes. He was rubbing it in our faces."
Walking over to where Samhain was sprawled, Cindy kneeled and took a pair of regulation handcuffs from her jacket. She fastened his right wrist to his left ankle, something police were not allowed to do but which certainly made escape for difficult. Rolling the dazed maniac over onto his back, Bane took off Samhain's belt and tied the man's other wrist to his other ankle, making the knots as tight as possible.
"Real Italian leather," the Dire Wolf observed. "That belt will help restrain him. This guy is impossible to kill. To be honest, I'm a little surprised he's still knocked out. That must have been quite a brain blast you gave him."
Cindy sniffed and folded her arms. "Yeah, well, I was annoyed with him."
"I bet." Bane started dragging the limp Samhain toward the trees at the edge of the parking lot. "We're going to have work fast, Cin. With your powers as a distraction, we can bring Dr Sabbath and Charlie Pantera over here before anybody sees us. Then we call the NYPD. My guess is that they'll bring the two lesser madmen to trial but Samhain... I think they'll turn Samhain over to Department 21 Black to be locked up in the Iron Mountain."
"Good luck with that," the telepath muttered. Suddenly she laughed and grabbed Bane by one sleeve. "Jeremy. I just realized we captured Samhain, Dr Sabbath AND Charlie Pantera. Wait until Klein gets here. He'll choke on his cigar!"
4/4/2000 - Rev 1/2/2018