The Infiltrators (23 page)

“They’re bringing home the bacon,”
Righty observed.

“They might not look like much, but
give them a year or two under my guidance, and you’ll have an
invaluable addition of muscle at your beck and call.”

“I’m indebted to you,
Harold.”

Harold shrugged slightly. “You’re
welcome,” he said, sounding humble but pleased.

Righty looked at his watch and almost
fell off Harold as panic set in.

“Crap! I’m due for a lesson in Sodorf
City in just one hour. You think you can make it?”

Harold made a few authoritative
clicking sounds to the konulans, which they seemed to understand,
as they responded with chirps, and then Righty found himself
hanging on for dear life as Harold began cutting through the air
faster than Righty had ever seen.

“So worried about missing a lesson?”
Harold asked, a newfound joy in his voice that suggested he was
game for anything involving speed and adventure.

“Hey, I make this instructor mad, and
there goes my instructor, and there go my combat skills, and then,
someday, when I need them the most, as some thug puts his boot on
my chest and raises a sword over his head, I’ll think to myself,
‘Man, I wish I wouldn’t have lost my combat instructor!’ Small
mistakes, big consequences.”

Harold continued pummeling the air
without comment on Righty’s philosophical insights.

Chapter 32

As Righty exited the woods on foot
towards Pitkins’ shop, he was relieved to see no exasperated
Rucifus outside waving her arms about in truculent fashion. Now, if
he could only find Pitkins to be without his newfound curiosity, he
wouldn’t have to invent stories about why Susanna was nowhere to be
found.

He crossed his fingers for luck as he
approached the shop. He found himself the curious one today as he
noticed the door standing wide open. That was a first, as best he
could recall, especially as there were no sounds of emanating
conversation to suggest Pitkins was at the doorway in the process
of excusing a client.

He double-checked his watch and saw he
was right on time.

One step closer, and he realized
something was badly wrong. The door wasn’t just open but
practically knocked off the hinges. He immediately pulled his sword
out and adjusted it to business length with a quick
SCHHNAP!!

He went charging into the store. It was
completely wrecked. All the swords, daggers, and other weapons were
gone; drawers were open and even scattered across the ground; and
papers were strewn about the place. He crept through cautiously and
found that even the sacrosanct dojo had been wrecked.

A lump traveled up to the top of his
throat as he saw the mat where he had learned so much venerable
knowledge had been hacked to pieces. Once he verified the entire
place was empty, doubt and confusion clouded his mind for a moment,
before a sudden epiphany hit him:

“RUCIFUS!!!” he shouted so loud anyone
within a half mile would have heard him.

Sprinting outside, he suddenly
screeched to an abrupt halt as he realized he was about to sprint
to the home of a multibillionaire with half an army of vicious
thugs at her disposal without so much as a sketch of a
plan.

Don’t you think it would be
a better idea to talk to Pitkins first?

It sounded great for about a half
second until he realized he had no idea where Pitkins
lived.

He went running back to the woods, as
it could hurt little to talk this over with Harold.

Harold was at the edge, ready to see
what was the matter, his beagle-like nose having sensed Righty’s
unease.

After Righty explained what happened,
Harold barked, “Get on!”

Righty didn’t argue, but hopped right
on Harold’s back and was being flown at a speed so brisk the
earlier velocity that had impressed him so much this afternoon
seemed like a stroll.

For a moment, he almost rebuked Harold
for flying straight across Pitkins’ large estate out in the open
without first sending the konulans to scope out the area, but he
had a growing respect for Harold’s judgment and didn’t utter a
peep.

When Harold landed right in front of
Pitkins’ front door, he announced, “Pitkins—Rich Simmers
here!!”

He noticed the door was ajar and
appeared to have been kicked open sometime recently, given a large
indentation in the door roughly the size of a man’s
boot.

He proceeded inside, again calling out
“Rich Simmers here!” several times.

He heard a soft whine coming from
ahead, and he walked forward briskly to investigate.

His heart nearly broke as he saw the
soft eyes of a beautiful Great Dane looking up at him. It was
covered in blood and had clearly been beaten nearly to death but
had somehow pulled through.

He again heard the soft sound
reverberating from his nasal cavity like a gust of whistling
wind.

As Righty squatted down and sat next to
the beautiful creature, its eyes flicked back and forth, and its
nose twitched, apparently trying to decide whether the guest was
friend or foe.

Righty extended his hand very softly
and lightly petted the beast’s back.

“Water?” he asked.

A happy whimper answered
yes.

Righty found a jar and then a bowl,
filled it, and brought it to the animal.

It lapped it up greedily but whimpered
again when attempting to stand up.

“Easy there, fella,” Righty said
softly, stroking his back. “Food?”

“Wuf!” the dog barked affirmatively and
smiled.

Righty searched around the kitchen
until he found a few scraps of meat and then brought them to the
dog. He wolfed them down voraciously and then smiled.

“Pitkins?” Righty inquired.

“Mmmmm?” the dog whined with a query of
his own, perhaps wondering if he was nearby.

“You just relax there, fella,” Righty
said gently scratching his ears. “I’ll get you some more food, and
then I’ll go find Pitkins.”

The dog looked hopeful.

Righty brought him some more meat and
water and then gave a good-bye pat to the dog’s head.

As Righty walked across the kitchen
towards the door, a piece of paper caught his eye.

He turned, thinking it was likely to be
nothing, but picked it up when he saw it was a note:

You’re a stupid man, Pitkins, making
it come to this. A man will come by your shop tomorrow to pick up
three of your best swords. The bag of money you threw to the four
winds will serve as down payment for the next ten swords after
that. Once you settle that debt, you can have your cute blondie
back.

Don’t dillydally. I don’t know what
will be left of your princess if you do.

Sincerely,

You Know Who

“KASANI!!” Righty yelled at the top of
his lungs. He sprinted outside and leapt atop Harold, planning on
directing him to Rucifus’s mansion immediately, but then caution
marched to the front of his thoughts, demanding an audience before
he made any major decision.

“Take me to the woods, Harold. We’ve
got a major problem!”

Chapter 33

“Thompson,” Righty said to a konulan,
as soon as they landed, “go back to my ranch. Bring back all the
konulans except five.”

Righty could see he was in shock that
Righty would leave so few konulans guarding the ranch and knew
something urgent was afoot. He was off and out of sight in
moments.

“You four,” he said to the remaining
konulans, “are about to embark on your most important mission yet.
The wife of a very dear friend of mine has been taken by a very bad
person. She needs our help. Bad things are going to happen to her
if someone doesn’t help her soon. And—”

His train of thought derailed as he
realized his focus on Pitkins’ kidnapped wife had caused him to
forget about Pitkins himself.

Pitkins . . . where the hell
are you, buddy?

He didn’t know Pitkins well except for
what he had observed during sword practice, but that had been more
than an enough to develop the deepest respect Righty had felt for
any man in his entire life.

So just what the hell would
such a man do in a situation like this?

“He’d go kick some ass,” Righty said
aloud, answering his own question to the perplexity of his animal
friends, who weren’t privy to his private conversation.

“Harold, show the konulans where
Rucifus lives. Have them surveil the premises for any word on
Pitkins’ and his wife’s whereabouts. I’ll wait here. There’s
nothing else I can do until I learn more.”

Harold took off headed high into the
sky. He was going to need some serious altitude to fly above the
city without becoming a spectacle.

Righty spent the time uneasily walking
around in a large circle inside the woods, his heart rate as high
as if he was charging into Rucifus’s mansion sword in hand, lopping
off heads and tearing out guts.

More than once he considered heading
over there without further waiting, but his desire to see this
through successfully restrained him barely like a cage taking a
beating from a wild animal inside struggling to get out.

Just when he thought he was going to
have to either start heading towards Rucifus’s home or go crazy, a
konulan went flying by his ear, and Harold’s welcome landing gust
tickled his face.

“Whatta you got?”

“Pitkins is in jail,” Harold said
somberly.

“JAIL?! What in the blazes?! His wife
was kidnapped for Kasani’s sake!”

“The other konulans are still
eavesdropping amongst the workers in the yard. They aren’t
particularly talkative today. We came as soon we had a morsel worth
sharing. All the windows are closed, so no news could be gotten
that way yet.”

“That’s it?! That he’s in
jail?!”

“He killed a bunch of people,” little
Billy spoke up.

“What?!”

“We couldn’t get all the details, but
it sounded like he basically turned Sodorf City into a war zone. He
killed deputies, bouncers, and a huge chunk of Rucifus’s thugs at
her house,” Harold said.

“Deputies?” Righty said with such
bewilderment, looking away, it seemed the question was to
himself.

“Does that really
surprise
you
so
much?” Harold said in a voice that sounded accusing but with a hint
of jocular sarcasm.

He glanced uncomfortably at Billy. The
konulans’ playful, innocent nature made him feel uncomfortable
talking about acts of violence in their presence, though he was
sure they were all well aware of his recent rampage in
Sivingdel.

“Yeah . . . but Pitkins is different.
He’s a good man. He’s not like me.”

“Maybe those deputies were on Rucifus’s
side,” Harold responded.

“I’ve got to see him. Billy—can you
lead the way to the jail?”

“I can go ahead of you and look for it.
I’ll fly right by your left ear if I find it. In that case, follow
me. If I fly by your right ear, there’s trouble.”

“And what do I do then?”

“That’s your decision,” Billy replied
with a series of chirps Righty thought might be laughs.

“Harold, keep checking back with the
konulans at Rucifus’s mansion. Once the others arrive, I won’t be
able to communicate with them, ‘cause there’ll be too many people
around. Don’t have them all congregate at Rucifus’s. That would be
a waste of time. Have them scour the entire city listening for
Pitkins’ name . . . and more importantly his wife’s name. Until we
know that, we don’t really know who we’re looking for.”

Harold took off with a mighty flap of
his wings and began a nearly vertical climb, while Billy—a far less
conspicuous creature—enjoyed the benefits of his small size and
went horizontally towards the city, ready to start looking for the
jail.

Righty took off on foot bitterly noting
the irony that while he had gotten first-rate transportation to
Sodorf City, he was now relegated to a rank even below that of the
common man, who typically had at least a horse to accelerate his
terrestrial movements.