Ghosts of Karnak by George Mann Read Free Book Online

Donovan. “We never found him when we raided the Roman’s mansion. Cleared out his workshop, but there was no sign of Spectorius himself.”
    “It’s just a hunch,” said Vettel, “but he might be tied up in all this.”
    “I thought you didn’t offer opinions,” said Donovan, with a grin.
    Vettel put her hand on her hip. “Go on. Get out of my lab. I’ve had enough of you now, poking around, asking questions. I’ve got work to do.”
    Donovan laughed. “You know where to find me if you turn up anything else,” he said.
    “What more do you want?” said Vettel. “The culprits all parceled up ready for you, tied neatly with string?”
    “That’d be nice,” said Donovan.
    “Go!” said Vettel, pointing to the door and feigning indignation. Donovan, though, could see the hint of a smile playing across her lips.
    “Come on, Mullins,” he said, patting him on the shoulder, “before she gets a hold of one of those scalpels and comes after you. We don’t want any of that moonshine she mentioned.”
    Mullins, visibly paling at the thought, didn’t look back as he reached for the door, and Donovan, following after, heard Vettel chuckling to herself as he pulled it shut behind him.

SEVEN
    The view from the roof of the police precinct was as breathtaking as ever, and for the first time in days, the Ghost felt truly alive.
    He was balanced on the low wall that formed a lip around the roof, standing right on the corner, high above an intersection. The updraft was buffeting him, causing his coat to billow out behind him, rippling at his back. He filled his lungs with the scent of the street below: the frying onions on a hotdog stand, the reek of spilled beer from a speakeasy frequented by every policeman he knew, the floral bouquet of a woman who’d indulged in too much perfume.
    He held his arms out by his sides, and looked out across the glittering landscape of sweeping canyons, each of them flanked by regimented cliffs of bricks, metal, and glass. From here he could see Atlas—the immense holographic sculpture in Union Square, bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders—and felt a certain kinship with him. All across the city, the fingers of police searchlights reached down from hovering blimps, teasing apart the shadows below.
    There was no sign of any glowing phantom, and for that he was thankful; he had enough on his mind, and Donovan—who he could hear crossing the rooftop behind him—was about to add to his burden with talk of a dead woman.
    “Come on down from there before you fall,” said Donovan. “I’d have to answer some very awkward questions, and there’d be a hell of a lot of paperwork.”
    The Ghost heard the familiar sound of a cigarette being drawn from its packet, followed by the flare of the ignition tab. He turned, dropping down from the wall to the graveled rooftop. “Evening, Felix.”
    “Hmmm,” mumbled Donovan, around the butt of his cigarette. “You’re still alive then.”
    “I was lucky,” said the Ghost. “Those Enforcers aren’t like anything we’ve faced before. The Reaper’s building an army, and if we don’t find a way to stop them soon, he’ll have the run of the place.”
    Donovan nodded. “Do you ever get the feeling we’re already too late? Sometimes, this job… it’s like fighting against the tide. There are days when I think I’d be happier if I just allowed it to wash over me. Or put on a mask, like you, and kicked the crap out of something.”
    “Now that’s the lack of sleep talking,” said the Ghost. “You’re tired, Felix. Take a vacation.”
    “A vacation? I wouldn’t make it off the island before they summoned me back. We’re undermanned and overworked, and half the men in the tertiary precincts are already turning a blind eye for a glimpse of the Reaper’s dollar.”
    “Then hire more women,” said the Ghost.
    Donovan laughed. “You know, that’s probably the best idea I’ve heard yet. I’ll put it to the