Only coercion, and a beautiful government agent, could force Harry Thursday out of retirement. This time to find the mythical Mask worn by the Minotaur over three thousand years ago. The history of the mask resurfaces during the time of Count Bruno...
Sara felt a thud on the back of her head, and despite the darkness of the alley saw a flash of light like a starburst before hitting the ground. She cut her chin on the pavement – sharp and gritty. It stung. She tried to regain consciousness, but it was like she was trying to wake herself from a dream in which she knows it's a dream and has to wake herself up anyway, but it's futile because you can't wake yourself up from dreams, and she rubbed the back of her head and felt a lump. Before the shock wore off she tried to focus her vision on the ground, a point of control. She rose to her knees and felt an urge to vomit. She was alone. Someone was shouting in the alley. Barking orders. Then a gun shot. Or was it her head cracking? A man called out in Greek. An angry man. Trash cans rumbled and a trash can lid rolled like a coin slowly spinning to a stop.
The goddamn bitch stole my dress. Alone, she stood and her head started spinning and she leaned against the wall and puked. Though still in pain she felt better and walked along the alley to the corner using the wall to support herself. She stumbled over a body. It looked like Stu, his pants hiked up over his socks and knees. She couldn't make out his face though and she shook him before realizing it had been shot off and was bloody.
He didn't respond. He's dead. Someone was coming, quickly - talking rapidly. She took off down the alley and turned the dark corner. Tears pooled and she started crying for Stu or whomever it was.
Where's Harry? "Harry?" Everything I touch is wrong.
Her movements were covered by the absolute darkness of the alley, but when she turned onto the main road, the lamps seemed like daylight to her throbbing head. And the salt breeze smelled good. Up ahead Stu's car was all alone. No Pinto in sight. A few parked cars around it. She wondered if she could make it to the car, her heart pounding as she stumbled. A shadowy man came into view ahead at the next corner. Had he heard her? But all she heard was her own heart pounding. Her head throbbed. His back was to her and the Pinto was ahead, hidden by a delivery truck. He took off suddenly down the alley and she ran to the corner where he had just stood and peered after him. A female voice barked orders.
They have to know I'm not there.
Keep going she told herself, run, and she ran hard but made no progress, like running in water. She couldn't see clearly, and as she stepped through the narrow spaces, and looking for the car she caught the miasma of the bay mixed with the city's own distinct odor. Creosote, trash, exhaust.
"Harry," she thought of him. I need a cigarette. She could no longer smell anything, salubrious or otherwise, acid swirled in her stomach and she felt it rise to her throat - it burned. She was hungry, cold, nauseated all at once. The thought of Harry made her long for his embrace. He smelled good, made her feel safe, even though he clowned a bit too much for his own good. I hope he's okay. Find a phone, call Reggie. Everything's gone wrong. Why did I let Harry go to meet Romanov? Call there, find Harry. She kept looking over her shoulder, looking for someone following. Stu was dead, and God knows where the hell Harry was.
At last she found the car. A dog barked and someone told it to shut-up in Greek. She felt dizzy, unable to stand up unaided. She leaned up against the car and looked in her pockets for the keys, but it was open and somehow she figured that out. Someone seeing her would think she was plastered, too drunk to drive, and yet she managed to open the door and fall inside.
Her ears were ringing louder than before. It came from the back of her head, rising and falling in the breeze that blew landward; it was no sound of her own but the siren of the police answering the call of alarmed citizenry. She couldn't find the keys to her bug, and realized, all of a sudden, that this wasn't her car, that her car was somewhere else, but where? Somehow she managed to get the car moving, and it coasted down the steep street. The cars were awfully close together, and thinking she was driving it, tried to step on the gas but nothing happened; she kept going, swerving trying to keep it on the road. If only she could get to a main artery, she could make it. The car began to twist and spin like she was looking through an oblique glass; cold, so cold and just like that she passed out.
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