on his forehead. He looked stricken. He turned to Harris, his eyes full of dismay.
“Oh, Harris,” he said. “I am so very sorry.”
He advanced, his hands outstretched.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harris backed away from Joseph. “Please don’t do this.”
“I have no choice.” Joseph’s voice was full of pain. “Kill me, Harris, please. Because I have to kill you.”
Harris bumped up against a table and was suddenly halted. He scrambled sideways to elude Joseph’s grab. He brought up the barrel of his autogun but couldn’t bring himself to fire.
He heard a familiar jackhammer roar and the flesh of Joseph’s side erupted with craters.
Joseph nodded and turned toward his attacker. “Yes, Welthy. Do that again. Only much, much more.” His face twisted with sadness. “Forgive me. I have to smash you now.” He grabbed the corner of a lab table and hefted it as easily as if it were a cardboard box; a fortune in scientific equipment slid off to crash on the floor.
He spun the table through the air. Welthy tried to jump aside, but the corner of the tabletop caught her in the gut. It smashed her into the wall behind. A moment’s agony crossed her features and she fell like a broken thing.
“Ladislas, get out of here!” Harris shouted. “Don’t attack him! Joseph, I’m going to run now.”
“Then I will go to Gaby and take her. I have to, and I know where she is. Stay instead and kill me.”
Harris aimed and fired. He struggled to keep the gun in line as he poured ammunition into the body of his friend.
Joseph staggered. His chest deformed with the damage he took. He kept coming.
Harris heard the higher-pitched crack of a pistol shot. A crater sprouted in Joseph’s forehead. But the flesh there reformed instantly, the burned letters unchanged.
Joseph grabbed another table and flung it at Ladislas. The table took the man in the chest, hurling him back into the wall. Harris saw Ladislas’ brief look of surprise give way to blankness.
Harris fired again. Joseph’s shoulder flowed like wax under the impacts. Then Harris’ autogun ran dry.
Joseph’s face twisted in sympathy. “You did very well,” he said.
Alastair and Ish jumped as the stairwell above them erupted in smoke and shouts. Suddenly there were continuous muffled explosions above them, but
“Oh, Harris,” he said. “I am so very sorry.”
He advanced, his hands outstretched.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harris backed away from Joseph. “Please don’t do this.”
“I have no choice.” Joseph’s voice was full of pain. “Kill me, Harris, please. Because I have to kill you.”
Harris bumped up against a table and was suddenly halted. He scrambled sideways to elude Joseph’s grab. He brought up the barrel of his autogun but couldn’t bring himself to fire.
He heard a familiar jackhammer roar and the flesh of Joseph’s side erupted with craters.
Joseph nodded and turned toward his attacker. “Yes, Welthy. Do that again. Only much, much more.” His face twisted with sadness. “Forgive me. I have to smash you now.” He grabbed the corner of a lab table and hefted it as easily as if it were a cardboard box; a fortune in scientific equipment slid off to crash on the floor.
He spun the table through the air. Welthy tried to jump aside, but the corner of the tabletop caught her in the gut. It smashed her into the wall behind. A moment’s agony crossed her features and she fell like a broken thing.
“Ladislas, get out of here!” Harris shouted. “Don’t attack him! Joseph, I’m going to run now.”
“Then I will go to Gaby and take her. I have to, and I know where she is. Stay instead and kill me.”
Harris aimed and fired. He struggled to keep the gun in line as he poured ammunition into the body of his friend.
Joseph staggered. His chest deformed with the damage he took. He kept coming.
Harris heard the higher-pitched crack of a pistol shot. A crater sprouted in Joseph’s forehead. But the flesh there reformed instantly, the burned letters unchanged.
Joseph grabbed another table and flung it at Ladislas. The table took the man in the chest, hurling him back into the wall. Harris saw Ladislas’ brief look of surprise give way to blankness.
Harris fired again. Joseph’s shoulder flowed like wax under the impacts. Then Harris’ autogun ran dry.
Joseph’s face twisted in sympathy. “You did very well,” he said.
Alastair and Ish jumped as the stairwell above them erupted in smoke and shouts. Suddenly there were continuous muffled explosions above them, but