Chapter 26

Dean Lifante

6:30 PM

"How?" Dean asked, falling to his knees. Tears of frustration welled up behind his eyes and he forced them back. "Where did she go?"

"I have no idea, but if we don't find the Maker's computer soon, it won't matter. Neither of them will come back." Barbie bit her lip and started pacing back and forth.

They had a little over six hours left to find the computer. Dean put his hands on the floor in front of him and gripped the carpet, pulling out small tuffs of the fabric. They'd found Slazney, but Ming's father was dead. The sight of him dissolving was going to stay with Dean for a long time. He shuddered and shoved that image into a box. There was no time for that.

Chester Punk Sr. was a dead end. He must have been a candidate, but Slazney abandoned him when Bobby got the job. His gut still told him to trust Zacoski. Slazney was holding something over him, probably his family. That man was a maniac about his daughter, always showing him pictures of her. Going on about how smart she was. She was three-years-old. It was annoying, but you couldn't fake that level of insanity. It would explain the release.

Dean went to his computer to check on the cameras. They were expensive, but he'd had them set up around his yard. The server was supposed to be protected and unhackable.

"Dammit!"

"What?" Barbie asked, twirling around.

"The video's been erased." Dean hit his desk. "I'm going to head back to the video store and persuade the manager to give me a complete refund, even if I have to pull out his teeth one by one."

"Play with your friends later," Barbie said. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going back to the Shujing," Dean said, standing. "Stanley had a file on Yichen. It must have been about Ming's father, but maybe there's more to it."

"Why? We were there earlier and couldn't find anything."

"We were tied up at the time. Anyway, it's a feeling I'm having. Something important will happen there. Besides, he's the only one left."

"Sounds good." Barbie pointed to Bobby. "What about the Maker?"

Dean looked at Bobby. "Pick him up. We'll Bernie him around," he gave a nervous chuckle. This day was becoming more absurd.

Barbie twisted her head to the side. "I don't get the reference. I thought I was going to carry him."

Dean blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry. Old movie. I used to watch it when I was a kid. Didn't think it would happen to me," he sighed. "Pick him up and take him to the car. I'll be along in a moment." He watched Barbie swing Bobby over her shoulder. She grunted and staggered. Bobby was getting stiff and was no longer bending. Rigor mortis had set in. Picking up Ming's phone, he turned it off to stop anybody else from tracking it down. "I'm going to find you," he promised her, caressing the phone and putting it in his pocket.

A loud crash came from the living room.

"What's going on here?" Dean yelled, running into the room. Ivan was on the ground where his coffee table used to be. Barbie was holding Ivan's arm behind him and kneeling on his back. Pieces of wood and glass were spread out under him. Bobby had been tossed into the corner like used laundry.

"This monkey thought he could take the Maker with him. I had to show him why it was a bad idea," growled Barbie. Steam rose from her back.

Ivan tried to force himself up, but she tightened her grip and forced him back down. "You're not going anywhere." She turned to Dean, her voice turning harder. "Get the Maker out of here. Now!"

Dean rushed to Bobby, picked up his body under the armpits and started dragging him to the door. He needed to be careful. His neighbour was probably still watching. She was always watching. At the door, he got under Bobby's arm and hoisted it up, over his shoulders.

Barbie crashed through his new TV and bounced off the wall.

"You Cheese Head!" she yelled, jumping onto Ivan, pummelling his head with a piece of the TV.

"Dammit!" Dean yanked open the door and walked Bobby to his car at the curb. He got three steps when Barbie flew through the window and ricocheted off his car, pushing it into the street. She landed in front of it and started groaning.

"What the hell?" Dean stumbled and dropped Bobby to the ground with a thud. He heard something break in the rocker. Scrambling to his feet, he turned around to see Ivan step out of the broken window. He slapped the razor-sharp glass from the frame to give him more space and pushed through. Coming forward, he brushed off the small pieces and loomed over the detective.

Before Ivan had a resigned attitude toward everything, like his life was a lie, and he hated it all. Now, staring into his eyes, Dean was reminded of the second before a gun fired. You knew it was dangerous and someone was going to die if you took the wrong step. Ivan reached down for Bobby.

Dean whipped out his gun and shoved it into Ivan's face. He heard the big man start to hum, now that he was close. There was something Bobby said about Ivan's humming. Bobby was scared of it.

"Sorry, big guy. I can't let you take him. I promised Ming I'd help him, and I'm not breaking that. Take a step back before you do anything."

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I promised Gregory, too, but not to hand Bobby over to him. We have to get his soul back in his body, or he won't be of any use to anybody." He grimaced.

Ivan shrugged, and his arm shot out like lightning. He grabbed Dean's gun; his humming grew louder. When he took his hand away, the barrel was bent and useless.

"What the hell?" Dean stared at the barrel and tossed the gun to the side. "How did you do that?"

Ivan picked Bobby up with one hand. A slight light appeared around Ivan's arms as well. His gun was useless; Ivan was too strong. Barbie moved in, just behind his car. She could take Ivan down if the big man didn't see her. Dean punched Ivan in the face, and the big man didn't even flinch. He just sighed, gave Dean a backhand and sent him flying into the flowerbeds.

Spitting out dirt, he looked up. Ivan moved towards his car, dragging Bobby on the ground. A noise distracted him, and Ivan turned.

Barbie jumped off the top of Dean's car, denting the roof and kicked Ivan square in the face, sending the Russian backwards and dropping Bobby. She picked Bobby up and swung his body over her shoulder.

"Get the car, fool!" she shouted to Dean, her voice dripping blood.

Shocking Dean out of his stupor, he picked himself up and yanked his keys out of his pocket. Dropping them, he kicked them forward and scooped them up.

"Don't play with them!" Her voice dropped another two degrees lower. The blond stereotype was gone, replaced by whatever she was.

"Sorry." Dean unlocked the door and popped the other one open. Barbie chucked Bobby into the back seat and dove on top of him.

"Drive!"

Dean shifted the gear and slammed the pedal to the ground. He reversed and heard a thunk.

"What was that?"

Barbie leaned back and stared out the window. "Good work. You hit the meathead. Now, faster!"

Dean shifted the gear into drive and took off down the street. Looking in the rearview mirror, he saw Ivan getting to his feet. He was pulling out a phone when Dean turned the corner, and the Russian was no longer visible.

"Is he coming?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. The Maker said he was strong, but I wasn't expecting that much power." Barbie opened and closed her fist. Steam poured off her, heating up the car and fogging the windows. Dean rolled down the window to cool it off. "My hand is hurting, and I can feel the nanobots breaking down. I had to forcefully excel over half to keep up with him. I only have about thirty percent remaining." She turned back to where they had left Ivan. "If we meet him again, I don't think I can help."

Dean stared ahead. It was getting closer to seven o'clock. They were running out of time. They needed to find where Ming was, and the Shujing was their last choice.

7:00 PM

Usually, the Shujing parking lot was full of buses and cars from travellers looking to start betting on the Strip. Now, despite the morning rush, half the spots were empty. The murder and broken window might keep a few away, but not everyone. Something else was up. Where were all the guards?

"Stay in the car." He handed Ming's phone to Barbie, turning it back on. "If I find the computer or Ming, I'll call you, and you bring Bobby up. We can't hide a dead body here. There are too many cameras."

"The Maker thanks you for all your help," she said. She was back to her innocent self. Dean wasn't quite sure which one was the real Barbie.

Dean nodded and gave her a small smile. Getting out of the car, he adjusted his coat and pulled out another candy. He wanted a smoke badly. The candy was starting to get expensive, and he was sure he was developing a cavity. His jaw hurt, and not from a punch. He'd had enough of those to know the difference.

"What are you waiting for?" Barbie asked. "Sam Spade to pat your shoulder? Sheesh. The Maker's dying here."

"Sorry." Dean stood up straight and fixed his coat. He checked his backup piece. With Ivan destroying his usual gun, he needed the smaller one.

Inside the lobby, there were still a few people playing the slots. Even if there was an earthquake, the same few people would stick around for the final jackpot. He rang the bell at the front desk, but the rude guy from last time wasn't there. Going through the side entrance, Dean headed for the service elevator.

"Can I help you?" a woman's voice said.

Dean turned around and jerked back. Yichen's secretary, Wu, was standing at the door of the security office. She still had the tablet, tucked under her arm.

"I was looking for Yichen. I need to ask him some questions about a kidnapping. Mine," Dean said, coming up to her.

"I'm sorry, but the owner is busy at the moment. Please make an appointment and come back when it's more convenient." She pushed her small half-moon glasses up and stared at Dean over them.

He took a step back and blinked. There was something different about the woman. Barbie mentioned a scent last time, but now it was overpowering. It wasn't perfume. It was more of a presence forcing itself on him, making it hard to think. His rational brain shut down, and his animal part took control. He held his hand under his nose and started coughing. "Thank you very much, but this can't wait. I need to see him today." He pushed the up button and got in the elevator.

She got in with him.

Dean took a deep breath and didn't let it out. He couldn't stop staring at her dress and the curves. Her clothes hugged her body, accentuating everything. Before, she was always in the background or busy typing away at her tablet. Now, she dominated the small space like a power librarian. Now, his animal brain broke through his rational one and pounded it into hamburger.

However, his gut wouldn't stop reaching up and choking his animal brain.

There was a war inside his stomach, telling him to stay away. Dean popped a bottle of antacids and dumped a handful into his mouth. Crunching the hard tablets drove away the smell for a moment. He watched the elevator light move up the floors. The Shujing was only six floors, but he was being slowly roasted in a kinky, study hall hell.

She stared at him over her glasses again, arms crossed, sending the sexy librarian image to the next level. Sweat dripped down Dean's collar. He closed his eyes and started listening to his gut. It had stopped talking and started kicking at him to get out of the elevator and take the stairs. Opening his eyes, he pushed the button for four and slipped through the opening doors. He dashed for the stairs and let out a gasp when he opened the door. Hanging over the railing, he sucked in the stale air of the stairwell.

It tasted delicious.

"What the hell was that?" When Barbie mentioned the secretary smelled good nothing said this would happen. Dean took out his phone and texted Barbie. He told her to bring in Bobby and use the stairs. There were too many coincidences to wait any longer. He looked up the stairs and climbed the next two floors. When he opened the door, the secretary was standing there. Her smell hit him like a hangover after a three-day bender.

"What are you doing to me?" Dean asked, plugging his nose. He could still taste it on his tongue.

"The owner asked me to keep you away. He didn't want me to hurt you, so I figured if you lost yourself to lust, it would be easier, and I could store you away somewhere." She changed her stance and crouched down. "I'm afraid I have no choice now but to do it the hard way."

Her scent changed. It was no longer sensual. It smelt feral, metallic. Something told Dean to move. Her arm shot out, grazing his shoulder, cutting through his jacket and drawing blood. He rolled to the side, coming out behind her and held the wound. "What the fuck?"

"I can still make this easy. The owner doesn't want you dead. He likes you and approves of your relationship with Ming," she said, taking her glasses off and setting them on a table in front of one of the rooms.

Dean backed up, bumping a table with his elbow. A vase, holding a yellow flower, tipped over. Dean grabbed it before it could fall. Yichen's room was at the end of the VIP hallway. He could run, but she'd be on him before he got three steps. Pulling out his backup piece with his right hand, he fired two shots into the floor to drive her back. He tossed the vase at her. She kicked it out of the air, shattering the ceramic and spilling water all over the floor. Wu made a disgusted face and paused. Dean ran before she could recover. He didn't like it, but he couldn't shoot her here. He was the one breaking in.

Tripping on the carpet, he fell flat to the ground. The pressure of the wind passed where his head had just been. Twisting, he fired another wide shot at the secretary, forcing her to flow backwards. Dean got up and held the gun in front of him. She was standing in front of Yichen's door.

"You only have two shots left, detective and you won't hit me with them." She relaxed her stance and stood straight. Dean noticed her hair was unruffled and her suit still looked pressed. Her back foot dripped water.

"I'm going in there." He pointed to the door. "You'll have to kill me to stop me."

She shrugged and went back into her first stance.

Dean was confident he could overpower her if he could get his arms around her. He spent an hour every day lifting weights and working on his body. He didn't want to kill her and put his gun back into his pocket.

He lunged for her, trying to get her in a bear hug. She slapped her palm across his face and sent him crashing into the wall, shattering the glass that framed the painting hanging there. He slumped to the floor, wincing as the glass cut into his hand.

"How? Are you like Barbie?" Dean asked, tugging the glass out of his hand. The blood stained the carpet.

"No, I'm not as strong as your blond friend, but anybody could block a simple attack like that," she said. "If you want to get past me, please do better than a limp panda."

He forced himself to stand and tossed pieces of glass and blood from his cut fingers at her. She flinched and dodged the drops, allowing Dean to land a kick to her gut. She let out a grunt and fell back, holding her stomach.

"You're not perfect," Dean said, smiling. "I know your weakness. You telegraphed it when you hit the vase."

"What's that?" she asked. Dean heard a hint of concern in her voice and noticed a twitch in her eye.

"You don't like dirt." He pointed to her jacket and the large boot print on it. She grunted, and Dean was rewarded with a small fire in her eyes. Her scent went a bit spicy. An angry fighter was stronger, but sloppy. He couldn't overpower her. If he could keep this up, though, maybe he could get by her.

Dean crouched forward and rushed the secretary like a linebacker. Charging the smaller woman, he thrust his shoulder at her chest and tried to grab her with his bloody hands. She sidestepped him and punched him in the kidney. Grunting, Dean swung his bloody hand at her, forcing her to duck. Her hand shot up, catching his elbow and bending it in a way bones shouldn't.

The crack filled the hallway, followed by a scream of pain. Dean cradled his left arm in his right and sank to his knees. Pain blinded him. Shock numbed his arm. She stood over him, jacket off and hands behind her back. He wasn't going to win this playing nice.

"Again, the owner didn't wish you hurt. He permitted me to stop you however I wished, short of death. If you continue to persist in moving forward, I'll have to take your legs as well."

Dean rocked back and forth on the ground, tears flowing down his face. The shock had faded, but the pain rose to a dull roar as his brain worked to shut out the damage. First Ivan, now her. Was there anything he could do? Was he always going to be a slave to those with more power than him? He needed his rational brain back. He glanced at the door. There was a beam of white light appearing through the cracks. He remembered seeing that light at the police station. It was the same thing he'd seen when Ming and Bobby had disappeared.

Please let it be her.

He needed to get in there. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his backup piece. There was no time for decency. Ming needed him. Spinning around, he shot the secretary in the right foot. She fell, gasping and clutching it.

Dean jumped up and smashed into the door with his good shoulder, thrusting it open. The white light was blinding. He brought his arm up to block it and moved into the room. "Ming? Where are you?"

A foot smashed into his side and sent him flying into the wall. Slumping down, the same shoes as in the hallway stood over him. There was some blood on the side, but he'd missed the center of her foot. The white light was clearing up, and a woman was lying in the middle of the floor, stirring. As Dean blinked the spots from his eyes, he could make out Ming's features. She was alive and moving.

"Thank god!" He closed his eyes and smiled.