security round the clock, and even for D it mustâve proved moderately difficult to sneak in, but there was no time to waste in taking care of the dirty old man.
However, he hadnât known Balcon would be going to the penthouse, and when he got over onto the roof, it was purely good fortune that he ran into the pig of a man coming out of the elevator. After the madam left, the Hunter had knocked out the bodyguard and followed the fat man into the penthouse. Only someone with Dâs ungodly skill couldâve kept Balcon from hearing any change in the sound of the footsteps to his rear.
But Dâs feet came to a sudden halt then.
Shocked, May leapt off to one side and hid behind the iron pillar of what seemed to be a laser antenna. Though she looked as hard as she could, she couldnât make out anything aside from the prone figure.
But then that shadowy figure got right up. The motion was so fluid, it almost seemed he mustâve laid down on purpose from the very start. Without a second to lose, there was a flash from his right hand. Although the knives flew with the speed of a swallow, it was perfectly natural coming from the bodyguard in whom Balcon had had such complete trust. But D batted one after another aside with his bare hands, catching the very last in his left hand and using it to split the bodyguardâs head like a piece of bamboo before hurling it off into the darkness to one side.
Just before a cry of pain rang out, a cloudlike mass blowing into Dâs face was painted red by the torchlight. In a heartbeat D made a massive leap back, but it was too late to avoid the trails of the red cloud that streamed off his chest and other parts of his torso.
âHow do you like them apples? I did it, D!â a voice called out from somewhere in the distance as a man in a cape stepped unsteadily from behind a row of gas cylinders.
It was easy to see in that haggard face so near to death the features of the man heâd once referred to as Crimson Stitchwort.
âGot you with my mist, didnât I? It can get through any kind of clothing . . . work its way into your body . . . And in no time . . . itâll take root, D . . .â
And then the man whoâd been run through the heart finally gave up the ghost, tumbling forward to fall on his face.
No doubt he was the one whoâd breathed new life into the unconscious bodyguard. Having escaped the
coup de grace
from D back in the Shabara Canyon, Crimson Stitchwort was caught in the massive collapse and injured almost to the point of death, yet to have his revenge on D and the baron, heâd latched onto Balcon and come all this way. But D had no way of knowing all of this. And since Crimson Stitchwort had surely never dreamed heâd run into D here of all places, it was yet another strange coincidence.
âDâare you okay?â May asked as she raced toward him.
âStay back,â D commanded her sharply just as the elevator doors opened to spill light and human shapes out onto the rooftop.
The three men who swiftly fanned out in a semicircle around D and May were guards at the establishment. And behind them was an even larger figure that seemed to oppress the very darkness with his towering form.
âYouâve got real nerve and skill sneaking into Fisher Lagoonâs. I donât suppose I could trouble you for your name before we tear into you?â
Having said this much, a certain astonishment suddenly seemed to fill the giant. And not just him, but the three guards as well.
Just then, a shift in the windâs direction sent the torch flames illuminating Dâs face off in another direction, allowing his handsome features to sink back into darkness. However, that had more than sufficed.
âMy oh my, what a pretty boy weâve got here,â the giant said, and then he suddenly realized something. âOh, so youâd beâD? Ah, just goes to show you canât believe everything you
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