ericlustbader.the ninja-第85部分

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　DeLong　nodded　and；　together；　they　began　to　edge　closer　to　the　rear　of　the　building。　They　moved　as　quietly　as　they　could；　keeping　to　the　shadows。　For　the　first　time；　DeLong　noticed　that　several　of　the　streetlights　were　out。　Odd；　since　the　New　Chinatown　Association　lost　no　time　in　bringing　such　problems　to　the　city's　attention。　But　that　was　New　York　for　you。
　They　both　saw　the　blur　of　movement　at　the　same　time。　De…Long　gave　his　partner　a　pat　and　ran　across　the　street　into　the　concealing　shadows　on　the　far　side。　The　black　man　kept　his　eyes　riveted　to　the　building　at　the　end　of　the　street。　He　knew　from　long　years　of　experience　where　DeLong　was　headed。
　They　began　to　close　in；　keeping　the　old…fashioned　iron　fire　escape　between　them。　Looking　up；　they　saw　the　moving　shadow　racing　over　the　slats　and　then　…　nothing。　No　vertical　movement　downwards。
　The　two　men　glanced　at　each　other；　then；　cautiously；　they　moved　forward　until　they　were　almost　directly　beneath　the　vertical　ladder　of　the　fire　escape。　From　this　perspective；　it　seemed　an　angular　jungle　of　stripes　and　deep　shadows。　Randomly　spaced　lit…up　windows　made　detection　that　much　more　difficult　…　insufficient　light　in　many　areas；　spurious　illumination　in　others；　creating　three　or　more　shadows　of　the　same　object。　'What　the　hell　happened　to　him？'　DeLong　asked。　'I　dunno。'　Binghamton　holstered　his　。38；　swung　the　iron　ladder　down　with　a　grate。　'But　I'm　going　up　to　find　out。　He　may　have　gone　over　the　roof。'　He　scrambled　up　onto　the　first…floor　fire　escape　landing　and　drew　his　gun。　Moving　quickly　and　quietly；　he　climbed　upwards。　He　had　difficulty　maintaining　a　clear　view　through　the　forest　of　metal　striations。
　He　paused　for　a　moment　on　the　second　floor　at　the　sound　of　a　police　siren；　rising　and　falling；　as　a　blue…and…white　sped　along　the　bowery。　Apparently　it　was　heading　uptown　because　the　sound　dopplered　abruptly　away；　sounding　odd　and　echoey　in　the　summer　night。　Nothing　to　do　with　him。　'Anything？'
　DeLong's　voice　drifted　up　to　him　along　with　the　background　wash　of　Chinatown；　the　traffic；　slowed　along　the　narrow　streets；　the　distant　chattering　of　a　foreign　language；　singsong；　rapid…fire。　Gave　a　negative　wave　of　his　free　hand　and　heard　the　buzzing　in　the　same　instant。　Some　kind　of　insect。　But　the　impacts　…one　two　three　…　pinpricks　puncturing　the　flesh　of　his　chest　and　spinning　him　around　were　from　nothing　so　innocuous。
　He　stumbled；　reached　out　with　his　left　hand；　saw　a　movement；　fired；　and　grasped　the　railing。　He　thought　only　of　getting　enough　air　into　his　lungs。　The　。38　clattered　against　the　iron　grille　work　at　his　feet。
　Turned　drunkenly　and　saw　the　dark　figure　before　him　as　if　it　had　appeared　out　of　nowhere。　Looked　spectral　in　the　wreaths　of　light　and　dark　stripes；　broken　into　oblique　shards　like　a　fun…house　mirror　as　he　lurched　from　side　to　side。　He　wanted　to　vomit。
　Impression　of　a　pale　face　dominated　by　black　almond　eyes。
　In　a　moment　the　eyes　moved　and　a　thin　line　of　white　lights　appeared　along　their　curving　edges。　Pupils　dilated；　he　saw。　Drugs；　he　thought；　irrelevantly。　His　mouth　opened　and　he　grunted　like　a　stuck　pig。　'DeLong。'　Had　it　been　loud　enough？　His　ears　rang　as　if　he　had　just　e　from　a　rock　concert。
　The　figure　came　at　him；　ballooning　dangerously。　He　reached　out；　barring　the　figure's　way　with　a　stiff　left　arm　while　he　brought　his　right　up　to　the　horizontal　so　that　the　gun　was　brought　to　bear　…　where　was　his　gun？　His　thoughts　as　slow　and　stupid　as　a　Neanderthal's。
　Felt　as　if　he　were　at　the　bottom　of　the　sea；　gravity　dragging　as　cruelly　at　him　as　if　he　weighed　five　hundred　pounds。　Almost　all　his　strength　was　now　being　used　to　maintain　his　standing　position。　His　chest　was　on　fire　…　a　cool　numbing　flame　that　seemed　to　set　him　floating　inside　himself。　His　consciousness　detached　itself　from　the　useless　husk　of　his　body。　Freed　at　last；　it　shot　upward　through　the　top　of　his　head　and　into　the　humid　squalor　of　the　night。
　Now　the　entire　blaze　of　the　city　was　spread　out　below　him；　a　pinky…blue　shell　of　light　pulsing　above　the　building　like　a　shroud。　Beyond　it；　infinite　space。
　Peering　dawn　through　the　haze；　he　could　just　make　out　in　dwindling　perspective　his　swaying　body　as　the　shadow　ran　past　it；　arm　outstretched。　He　could　even　make　out　the　pale　blob　of　DeLong's　anxious　upturned　face；　moving　nervously　in　the　shadows　of　Doyers　Street。
　When　he　looked　again　his　body　was　toppling　ever　so　slowly；　losing　its　balance。　It　seemed　as　if　he　had　to　strain　to　see　clearly　now；　so　high　was　he。　Everything　cloaked　in　an　aurora　and　he　wondered；　fleetingly；　whether　he　had　exceeded　his　limitations　and　had　gone　too　high。
　Like　Icarus；　he　thought。　And　descended　into　darkness。
　DeLong　felt　it　before　he　even　saw　it。　Like　an　elevator　unexpectedly　ing　down；　the　sheer　bulk　was　oppressive。
　He　sidestepped；　though　he　had　no　idea　what　had　been　thrown　down。　Then　it　landed；　quite　near　him；　with　a　heavy　sound　that　had　no　analogue　in　life。
　'Jesus　Christ！'　he　said　under　his　breath。　He　began　to　sweat。
　He　knelt　beside　the　crumpled　body　of　his　partner。　'Jesus；　Jesus。　Sandy；　what　happened？'
　Shock。　He　knew　he　must　look　for　whoever　it　was　that　had　done　this；　but　for　the　moment　he　was　incapable　of　looking　away。　The　shock。　And　blood　seeping　silently　in　a　rivulet　along　the　asphalt。　The　left　side　of　the　head　had　impacted　first；　then　the　shoulder　and　so　on。
　DeLong　got　up　and　backed　away　two　paces。
　Heard　a　sound；　soft　as　only　a　cat　might　make；　and　he　tore　his　eyes　away。　Doyers　Street　had　bee　a　trap　now　for　him　and　he　scuttled　back　into　the　shadows　of　a　doorway；　looking　up。　For　the　first　time　he　found　himself　wondering　what　the　Lieutenant　had　got　them　into。　Where　the　hell　was　he；　anyway？
　He　caught　the　movement　now；　this　time　soundless；　along　the　horizontal　plane　of　the　fire　escape　one　flight…up。　In　other　circumstances　he　would　have　passed　it　up　as　an　animal　prowling　the　night。　Not　now。　He　raised　his　。38；　and；　leading　the　target；　squeezed　off　a　shot。　The　report　was　very　loud　in　the　confined　space；　echoing　off　the　walls；　zigzagging　from　left　to　right。　The　spang　of　the　ricochet　told　him　he　had　hit　metal。
　'Shit！'　He　aimed；　fired　again。　This　time；　no　ricochet。　Had　it　been　a　hit　？
　There　was　a　vertical　and　the　last　horizontal　row　before　the　suspect　could　get　to　street　level　and　he　would　be　most　vulnerable；　DeLong　reasoned；　in　descent。　With　difficulty；　he　held　himself　in　check。　Binghamton's　broken　body　was　like　a　heavy　weight　close　by　him　and　he　fought　the　rising　desire　to　empty　his　pistol　at　the　moving　shape。　Wait；　he　cautioned　himself。　Wait　and　get　this　bastard　when　he's　closer　and　there's　no　doubt。
　Now　the　shadow　was　at　the　end　of　the　first…floor　fire　escape　landing　and　DeLong　sighted　carefully；　using　both　hands；　one　cupped　over　the　other　to　steady　his　aim　He　fixed　on　the　point　of　the　access　to　the　hanging　ladder。　His　forefinger　tightened　on　the　trigger。　Wait。　Tidal　breathing。　Wait。　Now。　Here　he　es。　Shots；　three　in　rapid　fire。
　Nothing　happened。
　DeLong　raised　his　gun；　puzzled。　Where　was　the　bastard？
　Then　he　picked　up　movement　on　the　street　in　the　periphery　of　his　vision。　Impossible；　he　thought。　How　the　hell　had　he　made
　the　drop　without　using　the　ladder？　And　without　a　sound？
　He　swivelled；　legs　spread；　aiming　the　。38　in　the　classic　pose　he　had　been　taught　so　well　at　the　Academy。　Silence。　No　movement。　He　tried　to　recall　the　path　of　the　motion　and　extrapolate　。。。
　Felt　the　presence　so　close　that　he　was　startled。　He　dropped　to　one　knee；　fired　fast　and　accurately　on　reflex。　But　in　the　space　of　that　last　instant　he　saw　the　figure　leap　at　him。　The　left　hand　was　extended　and　DeLong　could　make　out　a　short　black…wood　stick；　blunt…ended；　as　big　around　as　his　own　nightstick。　He　braced　for　an　overhand　blow　and　thus　was　totally　unprepared　for　the　horizontal　thrust。　He　was　dumbfounded　by　the　useless　gesture。
　The　rounded　end　just　touched　the　cloth　of　his　uniform　over　his　heart。　It　was　only　then　that　he　jerked　to　the　searing　pain　lancing　through　him　as　the　seven…inch　stiletto　blade；　powered　by　a　high…thrust　steel　spring；　shot　out　from　the　end　of　the　wooden　stick；　puncturing　from　front　to　back。　It　speared　his　heart；　went　through　one　lung　and　DeLong　was　dead　before　he　hit　the　ground。
　The　flying　form　was　by　him；　veiled　by　the　first　gout　of　blood；　heard　DeLong's　last　gasp　which；　to　the　policeman's　dying　brain；　sounded　like　the　loudest　shout　in　the　world。
　Nicholas　led　Croaker　back　through　the　apartment。　Women；　half…clothed；　stood　in　the　doorways；　staring　curiously　at　them。
　Ah　Ma；　having　received　the　warrant　papers　from　Willow；　stood　stone…faced　with　Penny　at　her　side。　Willow　was　in　the　back　suite　the　Japanese　had　used；　seeing　to　the　boy　and　trying　to　soothe　the　girl's　shattered　nerves。　Willow　is　wonderful　in　a　crisis；　Ah　Ma　thought；　resignedly。　The　way　I　used　to　be。　She　sighed　silently。　I　do　not　want　to　go　in　there；　she　thought。　Once　it　would　have　been　the　first　place　I'd　run。　To　help。　But　no　more。　Times　have　changed　and　so　have　I。　She　put　one　arm　around　Penny's　shoulders；　as　much　to　keep　the　girl　beside　her　as　to　reassure　her。
　'You　should　have　caught　him；'　Ah　Ma　said　in　Mandarin　to　Nicholas。　'Now　he　may　e　back　here。　He　won't　be　happy。　His　security　was　broken。'
　'He　won't　be　back；'　Nicholas　reassured　her。　'He　has　already　killed　the　leak。'
　They　had　to　go　out　by　the　front；　the　long　way　around；　surely；　because　in　the　dark　and　without　radio　linkage　they　could　not　chance　egress　via　the　back　window。　Gunfire　still　came　to　them；　sporadic　and　muffled　by　the　intervening　walls　of　the　building。　In　the　hallway　a　dog　was　barking　and　someone　one　flight　down　had　turned　up　a　TV　set；　perhaps　to　drown　out　the　noise　from　outside。
　'Christ！'　Croaker　said；　rubbing　at　his　eyes　as　they　pounded　down　the　stairs。　'What　a　goddamned　mess。'
　More　shots　as　they　emerged　into　the　hot　sticky　night　and　they　；　　　ran　down　Doyers；　heading　for　Pell　Street。
　They　saw　the　blue…and…white　first；　slewed　at　an　angle。　Nicholas　saw　the　two　bodies　immediately。　One　was　outlined　in　the　foreground；　the　other　cloaked　in　a　spider's　web　of　shadows　at　the　end　of　the　street。　He　paused；　his　eyes　searching　from　left　to　right　and　back　again。
　Croaker　pushed　past　him；　his　gun　at　the　ready；　but　checked　when　he　saw　the　first　bo