Blood Harvest (18 page)

Upstairs, Steve swooned as the taste of the woman filled his mouth. He became severely dizzy and slumped to the floor, closing his eyes in an attempt to clear his spinning vision. Behind his closed eyes the scene continued to play out in real time as if he had never taken his eyes off of the window.

He felt the building, building, building of energy coming from the woman. Straining, indeed begging, for its release.

Then it happened.

Lei bit down hard on the neck of the woman and latched on to her. Every fiber of the woman’s body exploded with orgasmic contraction and crackling nerve conduction. Arms flailing and legs convulsively kicking as the contractions arrived in wave after wave with no indication of any cessation.

From the window above, Chris saw the eruption of blood and immediately went into panic mode. “What the hell? Oh, holy shit! Steve! Wake up; we have to get down there!”


Steve rolled to his knees and peered out the window to see blood pouring from where Lei had latched onto the woman’s throat. The woman’s skin had turned a pasty white and her eyes rolled drunkenly in their sockets; her grip on Lei’s head appeared stronger than ever, refusing to allow separation of Lei’s mouth from her throat.

Chris bolted for the stairway as Steve fought to regain his footing. On the ground below the woman had grown weak from blood loss and her arms dropped to her sides as she gasped for breath. Her face was not one of terror, but exhaustive ecstasy as her mouth tried to form words while her vision went white.

A door banged open on the street below and Steve heard Chris screaming for Lei to release the woman. Making no attempt to dislodge herself from the limp woman, Lei continued her sexual undulations as if she had never heard Chris. Steve watched Chris raise the shotgun and point it at Lei. The life suddenly flowed back into Steve’s body as Lei dropped the unconscious woman to the pavement.

Lei’s beautiful mouth and chin were now covered in crimson; her face distorted into a frightful countenance of rage as she faced Chris. Steve wanted to scream in protest when a blur of black leather and white hair snatched the shotgun from Chris’ grip. Realizing he had lost his weapon Chris tried to throw a punch into the larger figure only to find himself in a chokehold a mere second later.

Panic forced him into action as Steve fired three rounds through the window, showering the figures below in shards of glass. Bolting out of the way of the sharp rain, Alpha released Chris and dove toward Lei. Chris hit the ground and rolled in the opposite direction as Steve launched himself through the window, landing with a roll, to the pavement some 14 feet below.

Crouching to a stop with his weapon aimed directly at Alpha, Steve spoke in deliberate, murderous tones.

“Don’t…fucking…move!”

Alpha was facing him, looking down through yellow eyes and barred teeth.

“Steve, look out!”

Steve heard Chris’ call, but couldn’t react swiftly enough as Lei kicked the gun from his hand. Rolling out of the way of her next kick, Steve increased the distance between himself and the two members of his former family. He assumed a fighting stance as he began to defend himself from an onslaught of punches and kicks from Alpha which resonated with a force of impact more powerful than anything he had ever felt before.

Steve was able to efficiently block and parry each blow shot toward him until he sensed an opening where he countered with an uppercut to Alpha’s abdomen. The blow landed with a thud and Alpha froze upon impact. Steve was sure he had placed the punch perfectly in the solar plexus and expected Alpha to respond more than he did. Instead Alpha took two steps back, looked down to his abdomen and said in a sort of reverent disbelief, “You’ve improved.”

Alpha’s voice was musical, deep and heavy with a European accent of unknown origin. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”

This time Steve had no chance of blocking the perfectly placed right cross that landed squarely on his left temple. His head felt like it was going to burst as he tried to roll with the blow. Steve managed to keep conscious despite the pain.

“Alpha, leave him! I have the girl. Let’s get out of here!”

“You need to learn to finish what you start Lei.”

“We need answers, now isn’t the time to settle old scores!”

Spinning to Lei, “We wouldn’t have this kind of trouble if you showed more control.” Alpha had turned his back on Steve and seemed to scold Lei in a patronizing fashion.

Alpha turned again to face Steve as Steve tried to square his shoulders to his mentor. From behind him a loud ratcheting sound broke the stand off as Chris loaded a round into the chamber of his now retrieved shotgun.

“I think we all need to calm down and have a little talk,” Chris spoke in an even and level tone.

Alpha didn’t move, but his eerie yellow eyes darted from Steve to Chris and back to Steve. Steve put his hands on his thighs and bent over in an attempt to catch his breath. Chris moved to Steve’s side, “You okay?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute.”

“Sure, I…”

Suddenly, although he was well out of striking distance, Alpha kicked one leg out at them. Realizing what he was doing, both Steve and Chris instinctually turned to protect their eyes as several small shards of broken glass flew off the ground and sped toward them. Having been able to shield themselves in time, the glass bounced harmlessly off their clothes. Steve and Chris turned back to find both Alpha and Lei running a good distance away down the lighted street with the unconscious woman over Alpha’s shoulder.

Steve picked up his gun and took off after them with Chris tight on his heels. Rounding a corner, Steve saw Alpha effortlessly open a manhole cover about fifty yards down the street. Lei jumped in the manhole first as Alpha looked up at Steve, then carefully dropped the woman feet first into the hole. Steve and Chris both stopped in their tracks knowing they were about to lose their quarry. Chris raised the shotgun, but Steve placed a hand on the barrel causing Chris to lower the weapon.

Never taking his eyes off of Steve, Alpha pointed a long gloved index finger at him.


“Until you remember where your loyalties should lie, stay out of our way boy!” Alpha’s voice resonated through the deserted street. “This isn’t personal, at least not on my end, but don’t make me wish to change the situation!” Then, with barely a sound, he jumped into the open manhole.

Chapter 19

Downtown Las Vegas, Nevada

It is a rare and rather unpleasant experience to feel the outside temperature tipping the thermometer at 105° at 10:30 in the evening. There is no such thing as a cool breeze at that temperature. Instead the wind gives a sensation more unto that of opening the door of a convection oven and getting blasted by the hot air.

The “Fremont Street Experience” is a project built several years ago in the downtown area as a major undertaking to bring back the once former glory of the current “low end” area of old Las Vegas. The project resulted in the closing of three blocks of Fremont Street, which was the downtown area’s main street and a distant cousin to the Las Vegas Strip, now the world’s vision of Las Vegas. The production included an enormous metal and glass canopy bridging the street between the hotels on each side. This covering was filled with millions of multicolored lights surrounding sound speakers that stretched over the entire three blocks. All this technology culminated in a spectacular light show of sight and sound supposedly unlike anything else in the world.

Unfortunately, the high end production of the “Experience” did not prompt the various casinos in the area to modernize or improve their facilities in any way. For reasons known only to their owners, the downtown casinos languished in their current run down, filthy, past-its-prime décor as the standard for the area. Only the Golden Nugget Hotel could claim any of the magic that could be seen from the mega-resorts on the famous Las Vegas Strip. This apparent apathy from the downtown casinos left the area in the same dilapidated state on the inside, despite the high dollar and admittedly extraordinary facelift of the street outside.

Kunnert stood at the street corner with an earpiece resembling a blue-tooth wireless phone as he waited for one of his agents to call in. Dr. Whelan’s second test was underway as of five minutes ago and once again, the doctor had insisted on performing the test himself. The only difference between this test and the last was that this time Kunnert had sent an agent of his own to tail the doctor and report back as the test progressed.

Kunnert’s agent’s voice now broke over the earpieces: “Visual of target acquired. Target is going into the Glitter Gulch.”

Kunnert replied, “Understood. No one move except on my orders.”

For years the Glitter Gulch was an extremely successful slot parlor-type casino; that is until the owner envisioned a change for his highly lucrative business, a change that would generate even more profit than the slot parlor. The owner of the Glitter Gulch simply turned his successful slot parlor casino into a large topless strip club and watched as his expenses diminished and profits multiplied. The location of the club was now set dead in the heart of the elaborate “family friendly” Fremont Street Experience. Despite several attempts on the part of the city public relations team to shut it down, the club remains open 24 hours, 365 days a year to this day.

Kunnert’s agent, former Sergeant Nick Morris, entered and moved through the dimly lit, smoke filled club, completely ignoring the young buxom women sauntering around him. He removed a roll of one dollar bills and stuffed three or four of them into a g-string whenever he was propositioned by one of the girls who worked the club. After giving out a few bucks it was easy to shoo them away; they moved on to find other men who might be larger fish.

Initially, the agent had no luck pinpointing the target after his first search of the club. He started to check the VIP room when a huge bouncer blocked his path. Putting the singles away he reached into another pocket and pulled out a few one hundred dollar bills and requested a chair in the VIP room. The now friendly bouncer politely escorted Kunnert into the reserved area and he immediately located the doctor.

The target, Doctor Phineas Theodore Whelan, was sitting at his table with two practically naked women grinding their bodies over his in a manner that would probably get them arrested if the doctor turned out to be a vice cop. The agent sat at his table and the bouncer asked what type of girl or girls he would like to have sent over. He requested instead to watch a few of the girls first before selecting anyone in particular. The bouncer nodded, said he would send a waitress over and returned to his spot by the door.

No one in the club had noticed that the good doctor had been placing hockey puck sized discs throughout the club as he entered the establishment. By the time he reached his table he had spread nearly half a dozen discs from the front to the rear of the club. The music began to fade and the two girls slid off whatever part of the doctor’s body they had attached themselves to and collected their money. The doctor shifted in his seat while handing the girls their bills and the first girl disappeared into the club, but the second must have sensed the doctor had deeper pockets to delve into; she sat back down on his lap without putting her top back on.

The doctor slipped one hand into a front pants pocket and fumbled around for something. The girl’s faced contorted in a concerned countenance as she probably thought he was trying to “adjust” himself until the doctor removed his hand and revealed a dark round object which he dropped to the floor.

“Oh, what’s that?” the confused dancer asked as she watched the object roll slowly away from where they were sitting.

Agent Morris had felt more than heard the disc land on the floor and he tried to get a glimpse of whatever it was before he returned his attention to the doctor who had donned a strange looking pair of sunglasses resembling laboratory goggles. In the hand previously holding the round object was what looked like a keyless entry remote for a car. The doctor’s thumb was resting on one of the buttons.

“Those glasses are pretty weird; kinda neat too, but weird.” The dancer was commenting as the doctor cupped his free hand under one of her breasts.

It was then that something bumped against Sergeant Morris’ foot. He looked down to see the round object the doctor dropped sitting on the floor next to his feet. Agent Morris’ eyes went wide with shock as he realized what he was looking at. Before he could react the doctor pressed the button on the keypad igniting all of the discs in the club simultaneously. Each disc exploded in a cacophony of sound and light that reverberated through the club and could be heard outside on the street.

The explosions from the doctor’s modified flash-bang grenades were similar to the more traditional type. Typically, the large explosion from such a grenade would produce an immense amount of sound and light without force or projectiles, considered a humane weapon that attempted to disorientate and subdue. The doctor had modified the light to explode in a predictable, rapid flash pattern similar to what he had programmed his “camera” to emit. Bodies fell from stages, poles, barstools and wherever they stood. Others slumped limply in lounge chairs or fell across the small tables behind which they had been seated.

The flashes ended almost as soon as they’d begun and the doctor found himself on the floor screaming in agony. In his zeal to ignite his latest creation he had forgotten to place the earplugs in his ears. The tumultuous sound rendered him in abject misery even though the glasses had protected him from the lights.