TW11 The Cleopatra Crisis NEW by Simon Hawke Read Free Book Online Page B

matter. He could already have left, thought Forester, and arrived back where he had started from before he had departed.
    However, when he entered the penthouse, he saw that Darkness was still there. The scientist was standing behind the bar, helping himself to Forrester's twelve-year-old Scotch. Andre Cross was there, as well, along with Finn Delaney and Creed Steiger.
    Delaney, a brawny, powerfully built man with a face like an overaged delinquent's, looked, as usual, as if he'd slept in his black base fatigues. His dark red hair was uncombed, his heard scruffy, and his boots unshined, a stark contrast to Steiger, who always looked like a smartly turned-out member of a S.W.A.T. team. Col. Steiger's hair was dusty blond, he was clean-shaven and his hooked nose and cruel mouth gave him a predatory look. Andre Cross sat beside Priest. Her long, ash-blond hair fell to her shoulders and her fatigues were neatly pressed. Her movements denoted a finely honed, athletic muscular control. Her sharp features were striking and attractive. Sitting next to her, Priest looked, as always, like a model military officer. Slim, dark-haired, and handsome, he would have made a perfect model for a recruiting poster. The very vision of an officer and a gentleman.
    They had all been trying to spend as much time with Priest as possible. Priest needed the support of his friends just now, he was under a great deal of strain. Forrester visited as often as he could, but the duties of command left him with little spare time.
    They all got to their feet as he entered.
    "As you were," he said.
    Darkness glanced up at him from behind the bar. "You wanted to see me, Moses?"
    He was tall and slender, a gaunt-looking man, with dark, unruly hair, deep-set eyes, a sharp, prominent nose, and a neatly trimmed moustache. He was wearing a Norfolk tweed shooting jacket in dark brown herringbone, with rust-colored suede leather elbow patches and a matching, quilted shooter's pad on the right shoulder. He had on a dark brown vest with a gold watch chain, a white Oxford shirt and maroon silk paisley ascot, dark brown tropical wool slacks and light brown calfskin jodphurs. He looked like the ghost of an English country gentleman. Forrester could see the back of the bar right through him.
    "I have a few questions and I'd like some straight answers, Robert, if you don't mind," Forester said.
    Everybody else called him "Doc" or "Doctor," but Forester and Darkness were on a first name basis, based upon a curious blend of mutual respect and cordial dislike.
    "Ask," said Darkness, suddenly appearing about two feet in front of Forrester, holding a glass of whiskey. Instinctively, Forrester backed off a step and grimaced, annoyed with himself for doing so. Darkness smiled.
    "I'll never get used to the way you pop around all over the damn place," Forester grumbled.
    "You said you had some questions," Darkness said. His voice sounded cultured, vaguely Continental. There was nothing about the way he spoke that was overtly arrogant or condescending, but that effect came across just the same. He was, thought Forester, an irritating bastard.
    "What's the long-term prognosis on Priest's condition?"
    "We were just discussing that," said Lucas.
    "Yes," said Darkness. "Unfortunately, it would appear that the long-term prognosis is not very favorable. There's been a dramatically measurable decay. It's apparently irreversible."
    Forester glanced at Priest with alarm. "You mean—"
    "He means his particle gizmo," Lucas said, "not me."
    "Particle gizmo, indeed!" said Darkness, rolling his eyes.
    "Well, whatever you want to call the damn thing," Lucas said. "It seems the good doctor hasn't quite got it figured out yet. It's failing. Looks like it's eventually going to stop working altogether." He grinned. "Ain't that a damn shame?"
    "What does that mean in terms of his health?" asked Forrester.
    "His health?" said Darkness. "His health is excellent and will undoubtedly continue to remain so,