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Authors: David Lynn Golemon
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the man leave the laboratory. He then faced his employer. “You would release these creatures into the villages around the hacienda?”
Ambrose grinned and then took anothersyringe from the table. “I would release them into heaven or hell to get the time I need. Now you go and retrieve the Perdition journals in my office. The up-to-date series of formula is in notebook number thirty along with the antidote. That is most important. As for the viles of powdered solution in the secondary laboratory, dump them into the sand. The powdered form is far too strong. With theliquid solution we have more control. Now go my friend and do as I—”
He stopped talking when the pistol appeared in the Indian manservant’s hand. Ambrose raised his thick brows at the sudden appearance of the weapon. It seemed as though the professor wasn’t surprised in the least by this latest development.
“This ends here, tonight, just as I should have allowed it to end in Whitechapel.”
“You brought the soldiers here, didn’t you Singh?” Ambrose asked as his eyes roamed to the still-unlocked cell door of test subject number two.
“Yes, I knew the American soldiers that are searching for Pancho Villa were within a hundred miles of here. I have arranged your demise through forces working with the president of the United States, Sahib. Forgive me, but I have been communicating withyour government for over three years now. I have been reporting on your progress—progress that has now gone too far with the new series of script you have begun. These men will never be controlled as you believe, and the Americans want this stopped.”
Ambrose couldn’t speak or move at first. He had never suspected his manservant could be capable of total betrayal until the deed had showed itself.Instead he turned from Singh and then quickly slid the needle expertly into his own arm. As he did he moved to the left. The sudden motion made Singh adjust his position and he stepped in front of the still-open number-two cell.
“Please, Professor, place the syringe on the table top.”
Ambrose chuckled, a sound that sent chills down the neck and arms of the large manservant. Then to Singh’s horror,he saw the syringe fall from where Ambrose had hidden it in his hand. It clattered on the flagstone floor—empty.
“What have you done?” Singh asked as he involuntarily took a step backward toward the open cell door.
“I do what always needs to be done old friend,” Ambrose said as saliva slowly ran from the left side of the older man’s mouth and traveled slowly through his thin beard. The distinctivefacial tick, indicating that the muscles under his skin were receiving information from the extreme frontal lobe of the brain, started on the right side of the face and seemed to spread into the upper reaches of the facial muscles, most notably just above the eyes, making the brow pulse and grow. The professor took another step to the right and then one quick step forward, forcing Singh tostep closer to the cell door. Ambrose smiled again—the once-straight teeth were now jumbled and separated. The professor’s blue eyes were now ringed with a red circle where the subsurface blood vessels had exploded from the massive rise in heart rate. He reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a small shiny object.
“An object lesson old friend—a bit of problem solving for the ultimatesoldier.” He held up the small key that maintained test subject number two securely bound to his chains.
“I’ll kill you before I allow the release of that beast from its cell. The test subjects must be destroyed,” Singh said as he cocked the British-made Webley pistol.
“Release them?” Ambrose said with a laugh.
The gesture allowed Singh to see the blood that had forced its way through the nowwidening gaps between the teeth of the professor. The lab coat was now drawstring tight around the professor’s arms. The material was starting to give way as the now thriving
Ambrose grinned and then took anothersyringe from the table. “I would release them into heaven or hell to get the time I need. Now you go and retrieve the Perdition journals in my office. The up-to-date series of formula is in notebook number thirty along with the antidote. That is most important. As for the viles of powdered solution in the secondary laboratory, dump them into the sand. The powdered form is far too strong. With theliquid solution we have more control. Now go my friend and do as I—”
He stopped talking when the pistol appeared in the Indian manservant’s hand. Ambrose raised his thick brows at the sudden appearance of the weapon. It seemed as though the professor wasn’t surprised in the least by this latest development.
“This ends here, tonight, just as I should have allowed it to end in Whitechapel.”
“You brought the soldiers here, didn’t you Singh?” Ambrose asked as his eyes roamed to the still-unlocked cell door of test subject number two.
“Yes, I knew the American soldiers that are searching for Pancho Villa were within a hundred miles of here. I have arranged your demise through forces working with the president of the United States, Sahib. Forgive me, but I have been communicating withyour government for over three years now. I have been reporting on your progress—progress that has now gone too far with the new series of script you have begun. These men will never be controlled as you believe, and the Americans want this stopped.”
Ambrose couldn’t speak or move at first. He had never suspected his manservant could be capable of total betrayal until the deed had showed itself.Instead he turned from Singh and then quickly slid the needle expertly into his own arm. As he did he moved to the left. The sudden motion made Singh adjust his position and he stepped in front of the still-open number-two cell.
“Please, Professor, place the syringe on the table top.”
Ambrose chuckled, a sound that sent chills down the neck and arms of the large manservant. Then to Singh’s horror,he saw the syringe fall from where Ambrose had hidden it in his hand. It clattered on the flagstone floor—empty.
“What have you done?” Singh asked as he involuntarily took a step backward toward the open cell door.
“I do what always needs to be done old friend,” Ambrose said as saliva slowly ran from the left side of the older man’s mouth and traveled slowly through his thin beard. The distinctivefacial tick, indicating that the muscles under his skin were receiving information from the extreme frontal lobe of the brain, started on the right side of the face and seemed to spread into the upper reaches of the facial muscles, most notably just above the eyes, making the brow pulse and grow. The professor took another step to the right and then one quick step forward, forcing Singh tostep closer to the cell door. Ambrose smiled again—the once-straight teeth were now jumbled and separated. The professor’s blue eyes were now ringed with a red circle where the subsurface blood vessels had exploded from the massive rise in heart rate. He reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a small shiny object.
“An object lesson old friend—a bit of problem solving for the ultimatesoldier.” He held up the small key that maintained test subject number two securely bound to his chains.
“I’ll kill you before I allow the release of that beast from its cell. The test subjects must be destroyed,” Singh said as he cocked the British-made Webley pistol.
“Release them?” Ambrose said with a laugh.
The gesture allowed Singh to see the blood that had forced its way through the nowwidening gaps between the teeth of the professor. The lab coat was now drawstring tight around the professor’s arms. The material was starting to give way as the now thriving
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