Read Online Gates of Hades by Gregg Loomis - Free Book Online Page B

headfirst into the sand at the instant he pressed another button.
    Even with his face buried under his arms and eyes closed, the brilliance of the explosion lit the back of Jason’s eyelids. He felt rather than heard the blast. By the time he raised his head, small pieces of debris and ash were floating down like a sprinkling of snow. Where the house had stood, timbers burned, sending sparks aloft in a Fourth of July fireworks show. There was no chance any living thing, including a recent infestation of mice, had survived.
    Beside him, Pangloss whimpered.
    He stood, running a hand up and down the dog’s back. “Pangloss, looks to me like we’re moving.”

 
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C HAPTER S EVEN
    The next afternoon
    Reagan National Airport
    Washington, D.C.
    Dirty rags of clouds squeezed oily moisture into rivulets that streaked the window of the 717. Jason gave his seat belt another hitch as the plane bucked in turbulence before thumping onto the runway. Winter-dried grass, shiny black pavement, and drab buildings emerged from the cloying fingers of fog.
    Had he really begun the day with the glory of a Caribbean sunrise in his face, albeit diminished by the stench of the charred wood of his former home? Was it the same day he had dutifully reported to the island’s sole constable, Stubbs, about checking a leak in the lines from his butane tank, the undoubted cause of the explosion? Had it been only this morning when he had counted out money under the gaze of the head teller at Barclays Bank, stuffed his sizable withdrawal into a money belt, and headed for the airport?
    Pangloss, living up to his namesake, had eagerly sniffed the oversize dog carrier and even wagged his tail as hewas locked into it. Now that they knew where he was, Jason couldn’t risk leaving the dog until the unknowable time when his return could be made safely. The mutt would have to come along.
    Jason felt he had traveled not only across space but also time. How often had he arrived back here? Hundreds? That was the difference, the disorienting factor. He was not returning home this time. The house in Georgetown and Laurin—neither was his anymore, no more than the life they had had.
    He eased back in his seat and watched his fellow passengers stand and push into the aisle as the plane came to a stop. Idly, he watched as overhead compartments were opened and emptied. He hadn’t brought much more than the clothes on his back, the rest having burned with the house. No problem. He could stop at one of the city’s men’s stores and outfit himself. With the money in the belt at his waist, he could dress himself however he wished.
    The aircraft was almost empty when Jason finally stood. A blast of cold air from the open door made him thankful he had cleared customs in Miami. All he had to do was collect Pangloss and find a cab. There would, of course, be one stop, no matter what the weather, before he reached his hotel or a clothing store.
    Reaching into the overhead compartment, he extracted his only luggage, a soft bag that contained toilet articles, extra socks and underwear, and a clean T-shirt, all purchased at West Indies Trading, North Caicos’ only dry-goods store. He had declined to check the bag for two reasons. First, as an experienced traveler, he was all too aware of the chance of baggage taking an excursion of its own once entrusted to the airlines. The second was recent habit. A man waiting for his luggage to arrive on one of the crowded carousels was a man who could not move in a hurry if circumstances dictated. He saw no reason to break habits old or new.

 
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C HAPTER E IGHT
    Twenty minutes later
    â€œStop! Pull over for a minute!”
    In the rearview mirror, the cabdriver’s face was incredulous. “It’s the Pentagon, mista. No stoppin’ here.”
    Jason was already out of the cab, oblivious to angry horns as he dodged his way through traffic. He stood looking at what was arguably