Panic

Leopold seized the opportunity and attacked, aiming low and slamming his palm into the side of the man’s knee joint where there was no armor. Leopold felt the cartilage crunch as the impact forced the patella out of place. His target dropped like a stone, too surprised to make a noise. Without wasting a second, Leopold stood and unclipped the man’s helmet, swinging it hard at the second attacker’s shoulder.

The helmet was heavy enough to knock the second assailant off balance, and Leopold used the momentum to swing the helmet back around, slamming it hard into the back of the first man’s skull where the bone was weakest. He felt the impact through his arm and heard a wet smack as the base of the disabled soldier’s skull caved in and he fell forward, gurgling. Leopold brought the helmet around once again and aimed for the second man’s head. He co

Leopold fought back the pain in his chest where the boot had landed and forced himself forward, shoulders low. He co

Dolph punched Leopold’s chest and stomach with quick, short jabs designed for maximum impact. Leopold bunched his arms, shielding himself as though he were boxing. The jabs came fast and hard, and Leopold twisted so that some of the force was absorbed by the softer tissue in his upper arm instead of his neck or face. Still hurt like hell. Dolph pushed back, using his larger frame to drive Leopold toward the center of the room. A final hard shove and Leopold went over one of the desks. He landed with a thump on the other side, which sent a searing flash of pain across his body as the impact jarred his damaged ribs.

The enormous blond rounded the desk and made straight for Leopold. He hadn’t bothered picking up the gun. Before he could get up, Dolph aimed a kick to Leopold’s stomach, sending him sliding across the hard floor with a gasp of pain. A second kick knocked him against the wooden frame of the antique printing press. He balled up and the third kick landed to his shoulder, turning him onto his back.

Dolph’s next kick was aimed at the head, but Leopold twisted away at the last second and his attacker’s boot co

The two of them faced each other, and Dolph advanced with his fists raised, jabbing at Leopold’s face, until the two men were toe to toe. Leopold weaved nimbly between the blows, taking advantage of his opponent’s slower movements, and shot both hands forward, aiming for the eyes. The blond’s longer reach was ineffective at such close range, and Leopold managed to get one thumb in Dolph’s right eye and he pushed hard. Dolph struggled to get away, but Leopold hooked his spare fingers inside the blond’s ear and held him fast. He could feel the eyeball moving around under his thumb. He applied more pressure and Dolph screamed. The eyeball started to bulge from its socket. It was nearly out. He kept pressing and felt the tip of his thumb hit bone. Dolph kept screaming. Leopold kept pressing.

The giant soldier wrenched free and covered his face with his hands, blood oozing from the socket. He howled in agony, then launched himself at Leopold, fists flying in a frenzy. Leopold ducked the badly aimed blows and used Dolph’s considerable momentum against him, shoving him onto the printing press, where he lay sprawled like a body on an operating table, jerking and writhing. His head was underneath the steel plate.

Leopold grabbed hold of the heavy screw handle above him with both hands and pulled. The screw drove the thick plate down onto Dolph’s face, and Leopold used his full weight to force the mechanism tighter. He met resistance, but pulled harder and felt the plate start moving again. He heard a wet crack as Dolph’s nasal bridge collapsed, sending blood and cartilage down the trapped soldier’s throat. Leopold kept pulling. He felt more resistance as the plate met the trapped soldier’s forehead and heard a muffled crunching sound as his skull began to give way. There was more blood and the cheek bones caved in. Dolph’s body still jerked around, and Leopold kept pulling. There were several short, sharp snaps as the plate crushed Dolph’s jaw bone and shattered his teeth; then he stopped moving. Leopold let go of the screw. Then he threw up.

“Leopold!” Mary’s voice was strained. She and Jerome emerged from behind one of the bookcases and they both ran over. Mary caught sight of Dolph’s mangled body and gagged.

The bodyguard nodded grimly. “Interesting improvisation.”

“I’m lucky to be alive,” panted Leopold. “Who knows what would have happened if they hadn’t been distracted.”

“I’m glad we didn’t have to find out,” said Mary, clutching her shoulder.

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing major,” she replied, dropping her hand to her side. “Guy got a lucky hit in. Jerome had my back.”

  “He has a habit of doing that,” said Leopold, wincing as the pain in his side intensified. “Jerome, do you have any painkillers in that first aid kit of yours?”

The bodyguard shook his head. “You’ll be fine. I’d be more worried about all the damage we caused. What was it you said they kept up here? The entirety of human civilisation?”

Leopold sucked in a deep breath. “Nothing a few checks and a well placed donation won’t cover. Maybe call in a few favors. We’ve gotten out of worse trouble before.”

Jerome pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll make the usual calls.”

Chapter 34

Leopold found Albert lying face down on the floor with his hands clasped over the back of his head, whimpering quietly to himself. After a few shakes to the shoulder, Albert eventually got to his feet, where he stood shaking a little, but otherwise unharmed. The reading room was in tatters, with scraps of paper piled up like snow where high-velocity slugs had ripped through the thick volumes and sprayed their contents across the floor. The broken glass from the cabinets crunched under Leopold’s feet as they made their way to the exit, and he felt his stomach lurch again as he caught a final glimpse of Dolph’s mangled corpse.

They reached the deserted stair well and Jerome took the lead, checking for any signs of danger. He held up a two-way radio, snatched from one of the bodies in the reading room, and waited a few seconds. Silence.

“Looks like we’re in the clear for now,” said the bodyguard, slipping the radio into his coat pocket.

Jerome led them down the six flights of stairs to the ground floor, and Leopold noticed one of the emergency exits at street level had been wrenched open, most likely where Stark’s men had entered. Jerome stuck his head through the disarmed emergency exit and waved them all through. They stepped out onto one of the narrow paths that wound behind the main university campus, sheltered on either side by carefully manicured bushes that stretched a dozen feet up into the air. The evening gloom had started to take hold and the light was fading fast, replaced by the muffled glare of the streetlamps that gave everything a slightly muted quality. A few seconds later, the bodyguard found the main gates and ushered everyone through to the main road, which was still lined with cars. Leopold spotted their battered SUV at the far corner.