being quite
treacherous so we should respond in kind."
***
Walther Lunt sat in front
of the fireplace, stirring the embers with a poker. The ruined side
of his face ached today, as it always did when rain was on the way.
It was an odd affliction. He’d heard of men and women whose
arthritis worsened when storms were looming but ravaged acid burns?
It had to be a first. "We should leave soon. We’re supposed to be
on the other side of town in half an hour."
The woman seated near him
crossed her stocking-encased legs, knowing that the movement would
catch his interest. Lunt was a lecherous sort and Miya Shimada was
attractive enough to keep him in perpetual arousal. A
Japanese-American, Miya had shoulder-length black hair that
shimmered in the sunlight. Her body was the perfect mixture of the
two races that made up her ethnic background: the slim features of
the Japanese melded with the hips and breasts of a Western woman.
"We can leave when you’ve finished your drink. I have to say,
you’re looking much better than you did when I first saw you," Miya
said teasingly.
Walther grunted in
acceptance of that. "I owe you my life. Or, rather, my second
life."
"Our masters aren’t done
with you," Miya pointed out. "That’s why they dispatched me to
resurrect you. In the end, all of us are but pieces on their grand
chess board."
Walther picked up a glass
of cognac from the table in front of him and he sipped it in
silence. When he finally spoke again, his words were so low that
Miya had to strain to hear them. "Have you found out anything
useful?"
Miya looked around their
shared hotel room and pursed her ruby red lips. Walther had been
hopeful that they’d become lovers but Miya hadn’t allowed that to
happen. They were living here under the pretext of being husband
and wife to throw off any who might be looking for them but she
harbored no romantic feelings toward him. It wasn’t just because of
his face, either. There was only one man who had ever tasted the
pleasures of her flesh. He had been the first in her entire life
that had seemed to be her intellectual and sexual equal. "Nothing
that you didn’t already know. He arrived out of the blue in 1933
and immediately made a name for himself. He first came to the
attention of the press when he involved himself in the kidnapping
of Arthur Lingold’s baby. The entire country was riveted by the
case since Lingold’s exploits as a pilot had won him so much
acclaim. And now his infant son was missing, with only a bizarre
ransom note left at the scene. Lazarus Gray managed to find the
child and bring those responsible to justice. From there, it’s been
one success after another. His agency, Assistance Unlimited, is
considered the last hope for those who have nowhere else to turn.
He’s considered quite the hero."
Miya realized that Lunt was
staring at her over the rim of his glass. "The way you speak of
him," the German said. "It’s clear you still harbor feelings for
the man."
"He’s hard to forget," Miya
admitted.
"Sad that he can’t say the
same for you. Apparently, he remembers virtually
nothing."
"That can be a blessing in
some ways," Miya countered. "How is he to know the difference
between the true past and a fiction?"
"What are you
planning?"
Miya stood up, her body
moving enticingly beneath her dress. "I seduced him once before.
Why shouldn’t I be able to do it again?"
"What if seeing you again
sparks his memory? The last thing we need is for him to remember
who he really is. Or who we really are, for that
matter."
Something dark and
malevolent flashed in Miya’s eyes. "If he doesn’t accept the way
things have to be, then I’ll just have to kill him.
Again."
***
"It’s suicide."
Goodwill looked over at the
Black Heart ninja who had spoken. The man was one of the group’s
leaders but it was still rare for him to openly challenge
Goodwill’s decisions. After looking around at the other ninja who
stood watching, Goodwill
treacherous so we should respond in kind."
***
Walther Lunt sat in front
of the fireplace, stirring the embers with a poker. The ruined side
of his face ached today, as it always did when rain was on the way.
It was an odd affliction. He’d heard of men and women whose
arthritis worsened when storms were looming but ravaged acid burns?
It had to be a first. "We should leave soon. We’re supposed to be
on the other side of town in half an hour."
The woman seated near him
crossed her stocking-encased legs, knowing that the movement would
catch his interest. Lunt was a lecherous sort and Miya Shimada was
attractive enough to keep him in perpetual arousal. A
Japanese-American, Miya had shoulder-length black hair that
shimmered in the sunlight. Her body was the perfect mixture of the
two races that made up her ethnic background: the slim features of
the Japanese melded with the hips and breasts of a Western woman.
"We can leave when you’ve finished your drink. I have to say,
you’re looking much better than you did when I first saw you," Miya
said teasingly.
Walther grunted in
acceptance of that. "I owe you my life. Or, rather, my second
life."
"Our masters aren’t done
with you," Miya pointed out. "That’s why they dispatched me to
resurrect you. In the end, all of us are but pieces on their grand
chess board."
Walther picked up a glass
of cognac from the table in front of him and he sipped it in
silence. When he finally spoke again, his words were so low that
Miya had to strain to hear them. "Have you found out anything
useful?"
Miya looked around their
shared hotel room and pursed her ruby red lips. Walther had been
hopeful that they’d become lovers but Miya hadn’t allowed that to
happen. They were living here under the pretext of being husband
and wife to throw off any who might be looking for them but she
harbored no romantic feelings toward him. It wasn’t just because of
his face, either. There was only one man who had ever tasted the
pleasures of her flesh. He had been the first in her entire life
that had seemed to be her intellectual and sexual equal. "Nothing
that you didn’t already know. He arrived out of the blue in 1933
and immediately made a name for himself. He first came to the
attention of the press when he involved himself in the kidnapping
of Arthur Lingold’s baby. The entire country was riveted by the
case since Lingold’s exploits as a pilot had won him so much
acclaim. And now his infant son was missing, with only a bizarre
ransom note left at the scene. Lazarus Gray managed to find the
child and bring those responsible to justice. From there, it’s been
one success after another. His agency, Assistance Unlimited, is
considered the last hope for those who have nowhere else to turn.
He’s considered quite the hero."
Miya realized that Lunt was
staring at her over the rim of his glass. "The way you speak of
him," the German said. "It’s clear you still harbor feelings for
the man."
"He’s hard to forget," Miya
admitted.
"Sad that he can’t say the
same for you. Apparently, he remembers virtually
nothing."
"That can be a blessing in
some ways," Miya countered. "How is he to know the difference
between the true past and a fiction?"
"What are you
planning?"
Miya stood up, her body
moving enticingly beneath her dress. "I seduced him once before.
Why shouldn’t I be able to do it again?"
"What if seeing you again
sparks his memory? The last thing we need is for him to remember
who he really is. Or who we really are, for that
matter."
Something dark and
malevolent flashed in Miya’s eyes. "If he doesn’t accept the way
things have to be, then I’ll just have to kill him.
Again."
***
"It’s suicide."
Goodwill looked over at the
Black Heart ninja who had spoken. The man was one of the group’s
leaders but it was still rare for him to openly challenge
Goodwill’s decisions. After looking around at the other ninja who
stood watching, Goodwill
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