The Jewels of Cyttorak by Unknown Author Read Free Book Online Page B

back in his chair, dejected. So much for getting a quick fix from the old man.
    “But,” his father said softly, almost as if he were afraid to speak.
    Gary sat back up straight and again touched his father’s hand. “But what, father?”
    “In my desk,” he said. “Right-hand drawer in a file labeled research, there is a picture cut out of a newspaper. It’s near the back of the file.”
    “And what’s the picture of?” Gary asked.
    “A creature,” his father said.
    Gary shook his head in frustration. “Why will it help?” Gary asked. “What creature?”
    His father opened his eyes wide and stared at Gary.
    “A creature who walks today and who looks like ...”
    “Cyttorak?”
    “No. That’s not what the creature in the newspaper was called,” the old man said. He weakly waved a hand. “Go. Look.”
    Gary nodded. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said.
    On the way out he motioned for the nurse to go back inside, then at a quick pace he headed for his father’s office near the front of the mansion.
    The place hadn’t even been cleaned much since his father turned ill. The old man hadn’t wanted it touched. And since both Gary and Richard had their own offices in other areas of the mansion, it hadn’t mattered.
    The file was right where the old man said it would be, and the clipping was toward the back of the file. The minute Gary saw the newspaper article he dropped back into the tall desk chair his father had used for years. His heart was racing and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.
    “Oh, no,” he said softly.
    The picture on yellowed newspaper was of a giant human wearing armor and a bullet-like helmet, giving him the appearance of having no neck. Richard was nowhere near the size of the guy in the picture, but his body was clearly shaping in that direction.
    Under the picture the caption read: juggernaut on RAMPAGE AGAIN.

    Remy had spent most of the hot, humid New Orleans summer day sitting in the shade of an umbrella on the edge of a courtyard cafe, sipping iced tea and waiting.
    His headband kept the sweat out of his face and his hair up and out of his eyes. His Gambit costume under his duster wasn’t as hot as he’d expected it to be in these conditions, which was a relief, considering that the duster did nothing to keep him cool. And wearing the duster had got him some puzzled looks. He’d just stared right back until the person staring looked away. After all, it was his business if he wanted to sit and cook, wasn’t it?
    He sipped on the iced tea and stared at a group entering the cafe. Nothing. He knew who he was waiting for and by now he assumed that person knew he was waiting. In New Orleans, nothing stayed hidden for long.
    And he wasn’t hiding by any means, so eventually his target would show.
    He just hoped it was before he died of heat exhaustion.
    He had obviously spent too many years up north with the Professor and the X-Men. New Orleans was his hometown, the place he loved more than anything, yet he had forgotten just how hot and humid the city could get. He figured his not remembering was like a lover not noticing an imperfection in a partner.
    Suddenly behind him, Remy could sense a movement, a slight rustling of the bushes that formed a row along the
    inside of the courtyard, as if a slight wind had brushed them. But the day was calm and the air thick and unmov-ing. And he had sat where he could watch all entrances, and no one had moved around behind him from the courtyard.
    That meant that only another thief could be there, and a good one at that. And only one, besides himself, was that good, which meant his hoped-for guest had finally arrived.
    “Sit, moti ami,” Remy said, not turning around, but indicating the empty chair beside him. He took another drink as beside him a figure pulled out a chair and sat down.
    “I see you’re as good as always, LeBeau,” the thin, white-shirted figure said, sitting down and motioning for a waiter to bring him a tea.
    Remy