The Kalispell Run Page 14

  “Bastard!” Sherry angrily shouted, lunging at Goldman and clawing at his eyes. Her nails tore into the soft flesh above his left eye and ripped a chunk away, blood flowing from the wound and covering the eye as, enraged, he shoved her aside.

  Goldman cursed and backed off as five of the guards swarmed on Sherry and wrestled her to the floor.

  Wolfe held his right hand aloft. “Enough!” he bellowed. “Control them or else!” He motioned at one of the guards. “Take him to the cells as I ordered!” he snapped, pointing to Hickok.

  A pair of guards gripped the gunman under the arms and hauled him from the audience chamber.

  “And you,” the Mole leader said, leering at Sherry, “will provide me with hours of amusement. I’m not afraid of your claws, witch! I like it when a woman fights me.”

  Goldman, his left hand pressed over his left eye, blood seeping between his fingers, moaned.

  Wolfe glanced at his injured subject. “Take the woman to my private chambers,” he ordered.

  Goldman glared at Sherry with his good eye. “Get going, you bitch!” He pushed her so hard she stumbled and nearly fell.

  “Goldman!” Wolfe barked.

  Goldman looked up.

  “If one hair on her beautiful head is damaged,” Wolfe warned, “that little scratch will be the very least of your worries.”

  Goldman, furious, his face livid, bowed and nodded at three of the guards. Two fell in on either side of Sherry and one brought up the rear as Goldman led them from the audience room.

  Sherry searched for the men carrying Hickok, but they were out of sight and she had no idea which direction they’d taken.

  Goldman turned at the intersection, his hand still over his eye. “You may be under Wolfe’s protection now,” he snarled. “But he’ll tire of you soon enough, and then any man can bid for you. I intend to make sure I’m the one who gets you, and when I do, bitch, I’m going to make you pay for what you’ve done to me!”

  Sherry, taking her cue from Hickok’s example, mocked Goldman by saying sarcastically, “Should I tremble now or later?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cindy and Tyson located the one they sought after the Family’s evening meal. Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.

  “What do we do?” Tyson queried his sister as they paused twenty yards from the four people resting under a pine tree.

  “We don’t have any choice,” Cindy replied. “We have to tell him now.”

  “But Plato, Jenny, and Joshua are with him,” Tyson objected. “Should we involve them?”

  “They’re already involved,” Cindy declared, “whether they know it or not.”

  “I hope we’re doing the right thing,” Tyson said apprehensively.

  “Only one way to find out.” Cindy mentally calmed her jittery nerves and boldly walked toward the seated quartet. How would they take the news of Napoleon’s treachery? Would they even believe her? After all, she wasn’t a legitimate Family member. Tyson and she were orphans, taken into the fold and, in a sense, adopted. They had only been in the Home several months. Would the others believe them?

  Plato was leaning against the trunk of the tree, resting his head against the bark. His long gray hair and beard enhanced his aged appearance. He was talking to the trio encircling him, his features animated and his gentle blue eyes lively. His frail frame was attired in a brown shirt and pants.

  Joshua, the youngest Family Empath, a devoutly spiritual man, wore a large Latin cross draped around his neck. His lengthy brown hair swayed in the cool breeze. He was leaning back on his elbows, heedless of the dirt smudging his faded green pants and blue shirt.

  Jenny, Blade’s intended, casually ran her right hand across her forehead, sweeping her blonde bangs aside. She was one of the Family Healers, and this evening she was wearing a yellow blouse and patched jeans.

  It was the fourth person who spotted the approaching brother and sister first. A smallish, wiry man with black hair and dark, penetrating eyes, he wore baggy black pants and a loose-fitting blue shirt. Clutched in his right hand was a long black scabbard.

  “He’s seen us,” Tyson stated.

  “I know,” Cindy confirmed.

  Plato ceased talking as the duo joined his group. “Well, we have company,” he announced. “Hello, Cindy. And Tyson.”

  Cindy couldn’t take her eyes off the Warrior with the sword.

  “Hi, Plato,” Tyson said, returning his greeting. “Everybody.” He nodded at the others.

  “If you don’t mind my saying so,” Plato astutely observed, “I can’t help but notice you both seem somewhat… troubled. Is anything wrong?”

  “We came to talk to Rikki-Tikki-Tavi,” Cindy explained.

  “Oh? Would you prefer it if we leave you alone?” Plato asked.

  Tyson looked at Cindy, letting her take the lead.

  “No,” Cindy responded. “That’s not necessary. What we have to say concerns all of you too.”

  Jenny was smiling. “You make it sound so serious.”

  “It is,” Cindy affirmed gravely. “We have…” she began, then stopped as Tyson jerked her blouse. “What is it?” she demanded, annoyed at the interruption.

  Tyson, his face pale, was pointing to their right.

  “What…” Cindy followed the direction his finger indicated, her eyes widening in alarm.

  “It’s Napoleon!” Tyson whispered, frightened.

  “Is something wrong?” Plato questioned them.

  Napoleon was strolling toward them, his hand idly resting on the butt of his revolver.

  “He knows!” Tyson, horrified, exclaimed. “He knows!”

  “Look at me!”

  Cindy and Tyson, openly stunned by Napoleon’s appearance, turned at the command of the low, forceful voice.

  “Close your eyes,” Rikki-Tikki-Tavi calmly directed. “Now!”

  They both hastily complied.

  “Take deep breaths,” Rikki advised. “Slowly. Relax. He is still a ways off. Don’t open your eyes!” he ordered Tyson. “Slowly breathe in and out. Restore your balance. Good. Now open your eyes and smile.”

  Cindy and Tyson obeyed.

  “Now act like nothing is the matter,” Rikki said.

  “What’s going on?” Jenny asked, confused, glancing over her shoulder.

  “It’s only Napoleon.”

  Plato, his brow furrowed, looked at Joshua. “Will you do something for me?”

  Joshua eagerly nodded. “Anything. You know that.”

  “Devise a pretext and take Napoleon away from here.”

  “Why…” Joshua started to speak.

  “There isn’t time for explanations,” Plato stated hastily. “Please do as I ask and I will reveal my motives later.”

  They fell silent and a few moments later Napoleon reached them. “Mind if I join yon?” he inquired, standing next to Cindy. “I have some time to kill before my next shift. A Warrior’s work is never done,” he joked, grinning.

  “Whose is?” Plato rejoined in a friendly tone. “Why don’t you have a seat. I’m attempting to elucidate the historical importance of philosophy in human culture.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Joshua rose to his feet, dusting his clothes with his hands. “I’ve already heard Plato’s views on the subject a dozen times. If you don’t mind,” he said, glancing at Napoleon, “I’d like to have some words with you.”

  “What about?” Napoleon asked defensively.

  Joshua walked to Napoleon and placed his left arm around the Gamma Triad leader’s shoulders. “As you well know, I make it my business to cultivate spiritual awareness in all of our brothers and sisters. I try to spend time with each of our brethren on a regular basis, answering questions and assisting them where necessary. More often than not, I learn more than I teach.” He beamed at Napoleon. “And guess who I haven’t talked with in quite a while?”

  Napoleon, knowing the answer, shook his head. “There’s no need to…”

  “Ah!” Joshua cut
him off. “But there is. Inner spiritual harmony, knowing we are sons or daughters of a Cosmic Creator, is essential to mental peace and physical well-being. Would you begrudge me the time until your shift, Napoleon?”

  Napoleon, clearly uncomfortable, balked. “Look, Joshua. Can’t we do this some other time?”

  “Procrastination, my dear brother, is inimical to spiritual progress,” Joshua said. “Haven’t you heard? Never put off until tomorrow what you can accomplish today.”

  “You better do it. Napoleon,” Jenny prompted. “You know how Joshua is. He’ll never give you a minute’s rest until you give in.”

  Napoleon, resigned to the inevitable, sighed and nodded. “I know how Joshua is,” he agreed. “When it comes to spiritual matters, he’s as tenacious as they come.” He looked at Joshua. “If you were a Warrior instead of an Empath, you’d be the toughest Warrior in the Family.”

  “That’s an honor I could do without,” Joshua stated. “My trips to Thief River Falls and the Twin Cities with Alpha Triad confirmed a conviction of mine. Violence is deplorable. It might be necessary on occasion, as I found out, but I wouldn’t want violence to become a habitual experience in my earthly life. I don’t see how you Warriors do it.”

  “Do what?” Napoleon asked.

  “Confront violence on a daily basis and still retain some semblance of sanity.” Joshua, reflecting on his slaying of a Brute in Thief River Falls, sadly shook his head. “Violence tears at the soul and destroys communion with our Maker and Shaper.” He grinned at Napoleon. “Which, by the way, is one of the things I want to take up with you. Let’s find someplace quiet.”

  Plato watched Joshua lead a reluctant Napoleon off. Interesting.

  Joshua had changed during his runs with Alpha Triad. He was still devoted to the Fatherhood of the Spirit and the Brotherhood of all men and women, but he was more… devious… since his return.

  “Now will someone tell me what’s going on?” Jenny demanded, her green eyes boring into Plato’s.

  “Bear with us,” Plato said. He motioned for Tyson and Cindy to sit beside him. “Please, have a seat.”

  The brother and sister accepted his invitation, Cindy sitting on his right and Tyson on his left.

  “Now,” Plato stated, smiling, “you can tell us what has you so frightened, although I believe I can speculate on the reason.”

  “You wouldn’t believe it,” Tyson spoke first. “You’re in danger. One of the Family…”

  “…wants to remove me from my position as Family Leader,” Plato said, finishing the sentence for Tyson. “I know.”

  Cindy, startled, gaped at the elderly sage. “You mean you already know about Napoleon?”

  “Napoleon?” Jenny repeated.

  “I have known for some time,” Plato informed them. “Napoleon feels he can do a better job than I of directing the affairs of the Family.”

  “What?” came from Jenny.

  “But how do you know about it?” Cindy queried Plato.

  “Many months ago,” Plato began, “one of the Family was fishing in the moat, sitting on the bank under the stairs near the drawbridge. Napoleon and Spartacus were on guard duty on the wall above, and they never saw the man fishing. He overheard snatches of their conversation and later reported it to me. Napoleon was trying to convince Spartacus to join him in overthrowing myself and installing Napoleon as Family Leader. At the time, Spartacus refused.”

  “Who was it?” Tyson inquired. “Who heard them?”

  “The information was supplied confidentially,” Plato replied. “I promised I wouldn’t reveal my source to anyone, and I must keep my word.”

  “Why didn’t you do something about it?” Jenny interjected.

  “What should I have done?” Plato retorted. “Confront Napoleon and have him deny the allegations? He would still crave power, but he would be more careful in the future. No, the wisest way was to allow Napoleon’s scheming to achieve natural fruition. Besides, from what my informant overheard, Napoleon has been trying for years to persuade his Gamma Triad fellows to assist him in his rebellion. They have steadfastly declined.”

  “Until now,” Cindy informed him.

  “Oh?”

  Cindy told them everything, every word as precisely as she could recall.

  Tyson then elaborated on Napoleon’s deceit and his charges against Rikki-Tikki-Tavi.

  Throughout their recital, Rikki sat motionless, cross-legged, his katana in his lap, listening.

  “…and, if you ask me,” Tyson concluded, “you better do something, and do it quick.”

  Plato’s facial features slumped in sorrow during Cindy’s narration. To think! One of the Family, one of his beloved children, instigating a rebellion! In the one hundred years of Family history, not one member had rebelled against the prescribed order of things. And now? How could it be? What motivated Napoleon? A simple lust for power? The Family’s Founder, Kurt Carpenter, had left specific instructions regarding many aspects of Family life. One of Carpenter’s injunctions concerned power-mongers: they were to be unceremoniously ejected from the Home.

  If they refused to leave, and wouldn’t recant, their fate was severe and final: execution. Plato vividly recalled a page from Carpenter’s diary, in a section devoted to advice for future Family Leaders: “You must not permit a power-monger to flourish in the Home. Even if you suppress any overt rebellion, they will continue to sow discontent and spread unhappiness among the Family. You must not allow the Home to become a microcosmic reproduction of the sick society in which I find myself, a society in which arrogant, ignorant, and deluded individuals delight in assuming power over others. They relish being able to tell others how to live their lives, down to the smallest detail. Mark these words well. There are those who crave power for the sheer sake of power. They must be eliminated from the Family. This is imperative.”

  “Maybe we could wait until Blade returns?” Jenny suggested, shattering Plato’s reverie.

  “Who knows how long that will be?” Cindy countered. “We can’t wait that long. You must do something now!”

  Plato frowned and stared at the ground. “Regrettably, I concur. Napoleon has talked about insurrection for so long, I guess I hoped it would continue in the talking stage until I could formulate a method of dealing with him, some way of avoiding bloodshed.”

  “I don’t see how you can,” Cindy opined. “You weren’t there. You should have heard him, seen the expression on his face. He wants to be Family Leader more than anything else in the world, and he doesn’t care one bit how he reaches his goal.”

  “I can’t believe Spartacus would agree to help Napoleon so he could have me,” Jenny commented. “Blade is my man, and he’s the only man I’ll ever love. Spartacus knows that.”

  “I know what Blade and Hickok would do if they knew about this,” Tyson said.

  “Blade knows,” Plato mentioned.

  “What?” Jenny reached out and placed her right hand on Plato’s leg.

  “Blade knows?”

  “Oh, not all the details,” Plato said. “I informed him there was a power-monger months ago, but I wouldn’t tell him who it was. Like you,” he said, glancing at Tyson, “I knew how Blade would react. You may not understand this, but I have a deep affection for each and every Family member, even Napoleon.”

  “Well, you’d best start thinking of the welfare of the whole Family and not just one man,” Cindy declared.

  Plato wearily nodded. “I know you’re right. I apologize. My mental faculties seem to have atrophied with the advent of the premature senility.

  Perhaps Napoleon is correct. Maybe I should step aside.”

  “If you ever do,” Jenny stated, “the Family wouldn’t pick Napoleon as your successor. And stop worrying about your mental capabilities. Even with the damn senility, you are still sharper and smarter than anyone else in the Family.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Cindy asked, pressing Plato. “You’ve got to do something.”

  �
�We will… do… something.” Rikki-Tikki-Tavi finally entered their discussion.

  “What?” Tyson asked.

  “To be precise,” Rikki corrected himself, “I will do something.”

  “You’ll need some help,” Tyson offered.

  Rikki shook his head. “No. Thank you. This is a matter I must deal with personally.”

  “Rikki,” Plato said, drawing his attention, “will you permit me to talk to Napoleon first, to dissuade him from his foolishness?”

  “No,” Rikki answered, denying the request.

  “What if I insist?”

  Rikki thoughtfully stared at the katana in his lap. “Tell me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but I do believe our Founder left certain guidelines concerning times of danger. Under normal conditions, in typical circumstances, the Family Leader has full charge of all affairs. But, in times of imminent danger, when the Family is being threatened, Family leadership is temporarily transferred to the Warriors. Specifically, the head of the Warriors. Am I right in this?”

  “You are,” Plato confirmed.

  “And,” Rikki said, continuing his reasoning, “since Alpha Triad is gone, am I not in charge of the Warriors?”

  “You are,” Plato said, again affirming the obvious.

  “Then I may decide how best to deal with Napoleon, may I not?” Rikki queried.

  Plato sadly nodded.

  “You’re going to take them on all by yourself?” Tyson asked, his skepticism showing.

  “I will do what is necessary to eliminate Napoleon’s threat to the Family,” Rikki said sternly.

  “You could get some of the other Warriors to help you,” Jenny recommended.

  “No.”

  “What about your Triad?” Jenny suggested. “Yama and Teucer could back you up.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Jenny demanded, peeved. “It’s stupid to face them all by yourself.”

  Rikki looked into Jenny’s eyes. “The fewer who know about this, the better. We will keep this to ourselves.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Cindy inquired.

  “You will go about your daily routine as if nothing out of the ordinary has transpired,” Rikki quietly directed. “I will guard Plato tonight and ensure his safety. Tomorrow, the issue will be decided. Permanently.”