The Loch Ness Legacy (37 page)

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Authors: Boyd Morrison

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BOOK: The Loch Ness Legacy
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As his vision tunneled, Tyler reached into his pocket and slid the tube to Alexa, who was looking at him, still on her hands and knees from Zim’s massive blow.

Zim heard the skittering metal and saw that Alexa now had it. She got to her feet and made a dash for the stairs, but Zim pushed himself up and grabbed the back of her jacket, whipping her around into the railing that overlooked the deck.

Tyler struggled to regain his footing while he watched Zim pin his sister against the rail. He grabbed the arm that was holding the aluminum tube and drew it to him. He was about to pluck it from her fingers when Alexa flicked her wrist, pitching the tube backward in an attempt to throw it down to the first floor. Instead, the tube bounced along the top of the wall and lodged in the crevice between two stones.

“Bad move,” Zim said.

Tyler staggered to his feet as Zim looked back at him and said, “Say goodbye.”

As easy as picking up a feather pillow, Zim tossed Alexa over the railing. Her terrified shriek ended with a horrible abruptness.

Tyler felt a savage scream tear directly from his soul, creating a rupture that seemed bottomless. With pure animal fury, he rushed at Zim. He landed one blow before Zim tossed him aside.

Zim crawled over the railing and out onto the top of the outer wall, grasping at the tube. As soon as he had it, he’d throw it into the loch, and Grant’s death warrant would be signed.

Tyler was not going to lose him as well. He frantically looked around and saw the Leatherman with the knife still extended. He scrabbled over to it and picked it up. With the last bit of strength he had, he pushed himself up and hurtled toward Zim, who was snatching the tube from the crevice.

Zim got to his knees and reared back, preparing to throw the last vestige of the Loch Ness monster into the bottom of the loch. He saw Tyler coming and struck out with his good leg, which was exactly what Tyler had been expecting.

He plunged the knife into Zim’s foot and twisted his leg sideways, causing enough imbalance to teeter Zim over the edge.

As Zim was going through his throwing motion, he fell off the wall. There was no scream, just a thump when his body hit the platform.

Tyler crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks. Alexa was gone. He sensed the same darkness that had descended when Karen died now threatening to overwhelm him.

He forced himself to look down at the first floor through the mesh steel railing, preparing himself to see two bodies laying side by side.

Instead, he saw three.

In addition to Zim’s motionless form, he saw Grant cradling Alexa, who pushed herself up and waved to him.

In the grip of despair moments before, Tyler was now seized by a dizzying euphoria he’d never experienced. The rush of adrenaline gave him the energy to stumble down the staircase.

He walked over to Alexa, dropped the knife, and pulled her to him with his good arm.

“I thought you were dead,” he said, his voice cracking.

“I thought I was too. But Grant saw what was happening and caught me. Or at least cushioned my fall.”

Tyler knelt next to him and grabbed his hand. “Thanks, man. I owe you big time.”

“No problem,” he said with a weak smile and closed his eyes. “I think I’ll take a nap now.”

Brielle came running through the entrance and said, “Zim’s men surrendered to the police, so I left Sinclair to explain what’s going on.” She helped Tyler up. “
Oy vey
, you’re a mess.”

“I look better than I feel.”

She looked down at Grant. “How is he?”

“I don’t know, but without the antidote he won’t make it much longer.”

“Did you get it? The tissue from the Loch Ness monster?”

“I had it, but Zim threw it over the side of the castle. They might find it eventually, but not in time.”

“The police are here,” she said, looking at Zim. “I suppose they’ll take him back to prison.”

Tyler had assumed he was dead, but Zim was still breathing. Tyler picked up his knife and knelt next to him.

“He doesn’t deserve to live.”

“Tyler, don’t,” Alexa said. “There’s been enough killing for one day.”

“I know. But he still doesn’t deserve it.”

Tyler saw a glint in Zim’s palm. He opened Zim’s fingers, and there was the aluminum tube.

He felt another rush of euphoria, but the adrenaline was gone. He rocked back on his heels and sat down against the wall, laying his head against the cold stone and closing his eyes. Like Grant, Tyler decided that he needed a nap.

 

 

WORLD NEWS

Crisis in the Middle East Averted

By PETER HAVERFORD

 

June 25, LONDON – Scientists at the toxicology laboratory of Imperial College confirmed today that they have successfully synthesized an antidote to the poison that struck down leaders across the Middle East. Doses have already been couriered to all of the affected countries, and the condition of the treated patients has shown dramatic improvement.

The recovering health of the ministers in twelve countries, including Egypt, Syria, and Jordan, along with vigorous diplomatic gestures from the United States and the European Union, has convinced the affected countries to begin a measured drawdown of forces. One reason tensions are easing is that Israel is no longer considered the instigator of the crisis. The source of both the poison administered at the Eiffel Tower and the subsequent antidote have been under intense scrutiny, but authorities have not revealed details of its origin.

Answers about the toxin, however, may eventually be forthcoming if they’re able to capture a third mastermind implicated in the Eiffel Tower attack. According to sources at the US State Department, while André Laroche has been exonerated of any role in the plot, an American woman named Marlo Dunham has recently been named a co-conspirator of Carl Zim and his brother, recent fugitive Victor Zim. Ms. Dunham’s whereabouts are currently unknown, but she is now the subject of a massive worldwide search conducted by Interpol and law enforcement agencies on every continent.

EPILOGUE

 

Three weeks later

 

Alexa felt an intense sensation of déjà vu as she rode in Grant’s Tahoe down the driveway at André Laroche’s estate. It brought back memories of her jittery arrival after being rescued from the kidnapping attempt at Pike Place Market. The difference was that the fear, urgency, and desperation were gone, replaced by calm anticipation.

She couldn’t help looking at Grant for any signs of a relapse, but he seemed stronger than ever, the wrinkles and grey hair erased as if they were never there. It seemed the antidote not only stopped the progression of the poison but had a rejuvenating effect as well. The treatment in London had lasted a week, followed by recuperation in Seattle, during which she’d taken care of him. Other than one dinner at a local Chinese restaurant, this was their first foray out into the world since leaving Urquhart Castle.

He parked in front of the mansion and shut off the engine.

“Thanks for coming with me,” she said, putting her hand on his.

“After what you did for me? I would have come if you were visiting a scorpion pit.”

Alexa smiled because for Grant that was saying a lot. Through their long discussions in the last month, one tidbit she’d learned was that he was deathly afraid of scorpions, an aversion forged by a bad experience when he was camping as a child and found one had crawled into his shoe during the night.

“Aw, thanks, honey,” Alexa said. She leaned over, and they shared a hungry kiss that went on for a minute. If they had been at Grant’s apartment, she was sure the make-out session wouldn’t have stopped there.

When she drew back, Grant stared into her eyes with a pained expression.

“Are you sure we have to tell Tyler?” he asked.

Even though she’d made frequent visits to Grant’s place, they’d successfully kept the relationship a secret, which was even easier in the past week with Tyler gone on a well-deserved vacation in the UK. She knew he’d be seeing Brielle and secretly hoped it would lead to something more. She thought they made a good couple.

“I think you’re making too big a deal of this,” Alexa said. “He’ll understand.”

Grant shook his head. “You’re not a guy with a sister. I know if anyone messed with my sisters, I’d have some strong words with them.” His balled fists at the thought made it clear that words weren’t the only thing the offender would get.

“So you’re just messing with me?”

Grant’s eyes went wide when he realized how that had come out. “No, no. It’s kind of an unwritten code. You’re not supposed to…get involved with your friend’s sister.”

“So a stranger would be better? Why?”

“I don’t know. That’s how it works.”

“You want me to talk to him?”

He hesitated. She was amused that Grant would face down hordes of enemy soldiers armed with guns, but admitting something like this to Tyler was terrifying to him.

“No,” he finally said, “I think we should do it together.”

“So do I,” she said lasciviously.

“See? That is exactly why the rule is in place.”

“It’ll be okay. Trust me.”

“I do,” Grant said. “But if it goes south, I’ll tell him it was all your idea.”

“Yes, you were completely helpless under my spell. That’ll work.”

Alexa and Grant got out of the car and knocked on the front door. A woman in a nurse’s outfit answered and brought them inside. She didn’t have Marlo Dunham’s panache, but she had a friendly smile.

They walked down the long hallway where Marlo Dunham had shot at Brielle, and Alexa could still see where the bullets had torn out chunks of wood and drywall.

Entering the living room, they found André Laroche seated in a chair, a cane by his side. He’d come out of the coma two weeks ago but had been able to return home only yesterday. Though the left side of his face drooped from paralysis, the doctors hoped that he’d someday regain control of his features. Even so, he looked much better than the last time Alexa had seen him, unconscious in his vault. His color had returned, and he still had the regal bearing she recalled.

He gave Alexa a lopsided smile and held out a wobbly hand. She took the cue and went to him, bending over to give him a traditional French kiss on both cheeks.

“Sit down, please,” he said, his voice slurred and shaky. “Can I offer you some tea?”

“That would be lovely,” Alexa said. She and Grant sat on the settee opposite him.

“Ms. Frost, would you please prepare some Earl Grey for us?”

She nodded and left the room.

“I’m so sorry for what I put you through,” Laroche said. “Both of you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive an old man.”

“Of course, André.”

He shook his head with a look of profound disappointment. “My trust in Marlo was so misplaced.”

“Justice will catch up with her some day,” Grant said.

“Yes, I suppose it will, one way or another.”

“At least this affair has opened up a whole new line of research into the aging process,” Alexa said. “Without your contribution to discovering the Loch Ness monster, that wouldn’t have happened.”

“It really does exist?” he asked eagerly. “You saw it with your own eyes?”

She nodded. Her heart was still heavy at the magnificent creature’s loss, but she hoped they’d be able to find its remains someday for proper study and display. Alexa wanted to share the exhilaration she’d felt upon seeing it. She’d start by sharing her experience with the person who would appreciate it most.

Laroche leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”

 

* * *

Dr. Wayan Sulastri of Rumah Sakit Wongaya Hospital in Denpasar rushed down the hall in response to the code called on his pager. He entered the patient’s room and found two nurses already getting the crash cart ready.

He checked the monitor and confirmed that the elderly woman was suffering another episode of ventricular tachycardia, the third since she’d been admitted to the hospital several days before. He took the paddles and yelled, “Clear!”

Her chest heaved up in response to the electrical shock. It took two more to revive her. The heart was beating, but thready and weak. One of the nurses collected the cart and left while Sulastri stayed with the other nurse to jot down some notes.

The English interpreter, on call for the many tourists who became ill on their visits to Bali’s capital city, appeared in the door.

“Do you need me?” she asked Sulastri. He spoke only Balinese and Indonesian.

He looked at the patient, who was stirring. She was frail, assumed to be in her eighties, with hair falling out in clumps, loose teeth, and severe osteoporosis resulting in a broken pelvis. Nothing they did seemed to reverse her rapidly deteriorating state. Sulastri had no options but to keep her alive as long as he could and make her comfortable.

“Ms. Duncan,” he said, focusing on the patient instead of the interpreter, “you’ve suffered another arrhythmia, so we had to resuscitate you again. Is there anyone you want me to call?”

The interpreter translated, and then shook her head at the wheezed response. “She keeps repeating the same thing, that the only way to cure her is by creating some kind of elixir from the flesh of the Loch Ness monster.”

“It must be delirium.” He made a note of the ramblings, and the interpreter left him and the nurse alone with the patient.

“Poor woman,” the nurse said. “To be alone in her last days. It must be horrible.”

“Any luck finding a relative? Her passport says she’s American.”

“We’ve tried contacting the home of every Marley Duncan in the United States. None of them have ever been here. I’ll try the US embassy next, but I don’t even think it’s a real passport.”

“It’s definitely been altered in some way,” Sulastri said, looking at the chart, “because there’s no possible way this fragile old woman is twenty-nine years old.”

 

* * *

The only enjoyment Victor Zim got these days was from imagining Marlo Dunham at the moment she would have realized that Zim poisoned her. All it had taken was a quick pour into her coffee on board the
Aegir
when he’d been fed up with her for good. At the time he’d regretted his impulsive use of the remainder of Altwaffe he’d retained, but now he was glad he’d had the foresight to do it. She was either dying somewhere or in custody in order to receive treatment. He alternated between gratifying thoughts about each outcome.

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