The Lostkind (45 page)

Vincent felt his heart sink. He knew everything. "I don't have any idea how to get to the Underside. I've been there exactly twice, and the ways they brought me in were gone the next day." He said honestly.

"I know you and Yasi scouted new entrances." Vandark said with such certainty that Vincent couldn't argue the point.

"Then you also know I only scouted the locations." Vincent countered. "I couldn't tell you which ones actually
have
doors."

"True, but you were smitten with the whole place, weren't you?" Vandark said gamely. "Think about it. Regular guy, regular life, boring office job, barely looked around at the fantastic city around you… Then you get a moment's attention from an attractive, mysterious woman from another world and get swept away to Neverland. You can't expect me to believe you didn't want more."

"If I did…" Vincent struggled to be smart. "Then you know I'd destroy any information I found once people started dying. I destroyed all the records, at Yasi's insistence."

"No you wouldn't." Vandark said easily. "Oh, I have no doubt you'd hide anything of value, but you wouldn't destroy it. Information is just so easily copied these days. I'm guessing you have a private copy, something only you know about. Just for the moment, just for the day when you finally say: ‘What the hell, I want to go back'. You said it yourself: You found places to put doors; but don't know which ones were used. So if you ever wanted to go back…"

Vincent said nothing.

Vandark pointed at him. "Ha! I'll take that as a 'yes'." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a USB key. "So, I can assume that's what this is then?"

Vincent froze. He recognized the USB as his own personal one. It never left his person; and he slapped at his pocket.

Vandark grinned. "My people swiped it off you before you got as far as the subway this morning. We've been all over it; but the folder we need; the one marked 'Historical Documents' is heavily encrypted. Three codes; each as a fail-safe that will delete the folder if incorrectly entered. We've already searched your house; your computers, your post-it notes; your messages; your emails; your office... My guess is, you kept them memorized." Vandark slid over a piece of paper. "Write down your passwords in full please."

Vincent said nothing.

Vandark sighed. "Must I really threaten you?"

Vincent shook his head. "You can't. Even under duress; you'll never be sure if I gave you the right password; and the fail safe would delete the files. You'd never get a second chance."

Vandark considered that and grinned at Vincent. "Tell you what. I'll make a deal with you. My network tells me that you play chess when you come to this park. Sometimes you throw the game so that you can give money to people who won't accept charity."

Vincent froze. "Yeah?"

"Then how about we play a game? You and me. You win, you get this USB back, I walk away and you never hear from any of us again. I win, you give me the passwords, I walk away, and you never hear from any of us again. Sound like a good deal? Either way, you survive without a scratch."

"You won't do it." Vincent said seriously. "If you walk away, you won't be able to find a way into the Underside. Not for a while. Long enough that Yasi and the others will find you and think up a way to stop you."

"Very likely." Vandark agreed, grinning like a shark. "The game ain't worth playing if the stakes aren't big enough. I could lose the whole war on this chess board. Yasi would owe you her whole world. I can only imagine how... grateful she'd be."

Vincent pressed his hands against the chess table to push himself upright, getting ready to leave. "No deal."

There was a flash of movement, and by the time Vincent could follow what had happened, Vandark had slammed a long knife into the chess table, burying it a half inch deep in the concrete, right between Vincent's first and second finger, close enough for him to feel the cool steel. The whole lunge had happened faster than Vincent could see it.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking this is a polite conversation." Vandark snarled like a feral animal.

Vincent sat down with a gulp; and Vandark began setting up the pieces for a game.

Thus began the last chess game Vincent would ever play.

Vincent was an experienced player, and had a standard opening gambit, but this was different. His hands were shaking as he made his usual opening moves. He didn't know if Vandark was an expert player, or if he had been told what Vincent's tactics were…

Vincent played cautiously, testing out what Vandark might do, making sure his defense was stronger than offense. Vandark barely looked at the board, focusing his eyes squarely on Vincent's face, psyching him out. Feeling sweat break out on his forehead, Vincent was forced to admit it was working.

Vandark barely hesitated at his turn, moving his pieces forward aggressively. Vincent was paralyzed, wondering if there was a deeper, subtler strategy than he could see. If Vandark was serious about the stakes, then making such outlandish attacks would be a certain way to lose it all.

If
. If Vandark was being honest. If he wasn't being incredibly smart. If he wasn't being led into a trap. If this whole thing wasn't a set-up….

Vincent hesitated, and moved his Queen forward. The most powerful piece on the board, and Vincent moved it into position, where Vandark's attackers could strike at it. Vincent was careful, putting defenses in place. If Vandark saw them, he wouldn't go for it. Vincent looked at the whole board, and saw another solution. A way to turn the trap against him. If Vandark was as good as Vincent, he would not take the Queen, but attack with his Rook

It was a test; and Vincent struggled not to hold his breath.

Vandark reached to capture the Queen, then hesitated, looked over the board, and withdrew his piece.

Vincent felt better. Vandark had seen the trap, but had missed the better solution. Vincent had the advantage.

The game continued, and after several minutes, Vincent suddenly realized they were alone in the park. He didn't know how, but the rest of the park was empty.

For his protection?
Vincent wondered.
For privacy?

Vandark moved one of his Knights forward aggressively, moving it in too deep. Vincent stared at the black chess piece hard, like he was expecting it to move again on its own.

Vandark waited. "Well?"

Vincent met his opponent's eyes, convinced there was more to it than he knew. He found no clue in the pale gaze. Finally, he lifted his hand, ready to capture the piece.

Vandark raised a hand suddenly. "Oh, wait. Sorry, my mistake." He said, as though embarrassed he forgot to mention it. "If you capture that piece, I will have to do something… drastic."

Vincent felt his heart rate spike. "Such as?"

Vandark gestured with elaborate courtesy over to the left, and Vincent followed his gaze to see a black van sitting on the edge of the park. Its rear doors opened, and Vincent felt his stomach sink as Yasi became visible, her hands tied behind her back. With the overcoat to cover her bonds and the van doors to keep her relatively hidden, nobody else saw it. The doors slammed shut again, and Vincent spun back to Vandark. "Let her go."

"I will. As soon as I win the game." Vandark promised, sounding sincere. "But for every piece of mine you capture through this game, my people in the van will remove one of Yasi's fingers."

Vincent felt a cold chill squeeze around his heart. "No…"

"Now look the other way." Vandark said simply.

Vincent did so, and saw a White Van waiting at the other end of the park. He knew before the doors opened. Connie was stuck in the back, also tied, with a gag in her mouth. She looked borderline catatonic from fear.

"Two sides, two prisoners, two vans, black and white." Vandark continued. "Delicious metaphor, isn't it? For every one of my black pieces captured... I take it all back in digits from Yasi. For every piece of yours that you fail to protect... I take a finger from your lovely lady-friend, Connie."

Vincent couldn't speak, couldn't move. Everywhere he looked he saw Connie, looking scared and helpless. It was a horrible feeling. He looked at the board with fresh eyes, wondering what to do.

Vandark leaned back, studying Vincent's face. "Well now. Here's an interesting moment in the life of Vincent McCall. You're a much better player than I am. You must know this by now. You could win the game. But it'll cost Yasi. You could drag it out, looking for a way to flip the rules, but the longer you drag out this game, the more likely I will capture a piece of yours... and dear sweet Connie won't even know what the game is really about."

Vincent said nothing; heart hammering.

"And even if you do win this game; what's to stop me from trying to find my own way in? You know I can try; but you don't know if I succeed. You do know that if you lose the game; you'll have just handed it all to me on a plate; but you don't know how much time you've bought if you win. Pretty tough judgment call."

Vincent stared at the board, looking for a solution.

"You can stare at those pieces all you want; there's only one way to win." Vandark read his mind. "You can try to run, but you know you won't get five feet. You can try to win without capturing any of my pieces, but you're not
that
good. You can try to win without losing any of your pieces, but we both know you can't do it. Especially when I don't care how many pieces get lost. You could save the Underground, you could be the big hero, and you could be
Yasi's
hero. But she'll be missing a few bits if you do. Connie might forgive you, but unlike Yasi, she won't be able to tell anyone what happened. You want to win the war, you gotta make sacrifices."

Vincent stared at Vandark, panting for breath. He looked at the board. It was a chess piece. It was two inches of painted wood carved to look like a horse. All he had to do… He could win this. He could save the entire Underside. He could do it if…

"Why are you fighting so hard, Vincent?" Vandark advised him. "Think about this for a second. What are you fighting for? Your home? We're talking about a place you'll never see again. It's already rejected you once, kicked you out. You think there's any chance you'll be welcomed back after this? You're not one of them. You never will be. Even if Yasi accepted you as her pet, her family never would."

Vincent kept staring at the black knight, sitting there, an easy capture. A fast victory.

"If it was you in that van, and Yasi sitting here, she'd do it without blinking." Vandark continued his ruthless deconstruction of Vincent's life. "She'd gladly let me hack you apart to protect her home. And Connie? She wouldn't even hesitate to spare you and let the Secret City fall. Is Yasi really worth it? Worth
this
?"

Stop it. Stop reading my mind.
Vincent thought numbly.

He lifted a hand to make the move, to capture the black knight. It would be so easy. His hand was shaking.

Vandark's eyes blazed at him; the forgiving and logical tone vanishing again. "Do you have it in you?!"

Finally, Vincent put his hand down, resting it on the table. After an endless moment, he reached out and knocked his king over, officially conceding the match.

"Checkmate." Vandark grinned, and leaned forward. "Well?"

Feeling like his limbs were made of lead, Vincent reached out and picked up the pen. He scribbled down the passwords. Three cryptic combinations of letters and numbers.

Vandark took the bit of paper and held it out. A moment later the only other person in the park strolled by and took both the paper; and the USB without breaking stride. "Good game." He said graciously. "We'll just wait a moment to see if this works. Hope you double-checked. I'd hate to have three people killed because of poor handwriting."

Vincent said nothing. After several seconds; a pager beeped. Vandark pulled it from his belt and checked the screen. The sight of a Lostkind using a pager was so impossible that Vincent almost didn't believe it.

Vandark seemed pleased. "Done." he held out his hand to shake Vincent's; and didn't seem at all bothered when Vincent left it hanging in mid-air. "Don't move. Do not move from this spot. I'll send them both over; and then you can go home. Understand?"

Vincent nodded dully. He couldn't move if he wanted to.

Vandark stood and walked away. After a moment, Vincent managed to get his head together again, and looked after him. Vandark was walking out of the park, with all the time in the world, until he reached the black van. The rear doors opened for him, and he hopped in. A moment later, Yasi was pushed out roughly. The doors closed behind her, and the black van drove away. He turned quickly to look back at the other van, but Connie was already moving toward him, limping.

Vincent looked back to the board and shut his eyes, unable to look at her.

After a few minutes, Connie sat down next to him, trembling. He didn't speak. Couldn't speak.

Yasi sat down on his opposite side. Neither of them looked at her. Connie was still shaking, and he put an arm around her. She clung to him for dear life.