The Dracula Caper

12

Andre came to with a jerk. her body spasming as she regained consciousness. Whatever it was the Chinese man had done to her, he had reversed the effects with a sharp stab of his forefinger on a pressure point in her neck and she reacted as if electrically shocked. He stared expressionlessly into her eyes for a moment, then nodded once and moved back from her to sit on the opposite side of the coach.

Andre took quick stock of her surroundings. The windows of the coach were curtained off, so she could not tell where she was. The coach was not moving. She was not restrained in any way, but two young Chinese men sat on either side of her, both dressed all in black and wearing green headbands. The man who had rendered her unconscious and then revived her sat opposite her in the coach, dressed the same way as, the two on either side of her. Next to him sat a withered old man, also Chinese, with long white hair and a long, wispy white beard. He, too, was dressed in black pajamas, but unlike the others, he was not wearing a green headband. Instead, he wore a small black skullcap.

"You are the temporal agent. Andre Cross?" he said, in excellent English, albeit with a Chinese accent.

Startled. Andre stared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about. Who are-imhhhh!"

The man sitting on her right touched her on the side, just below her kidney, and she felt white fire lance up her spine like an electric current.

"Please." said the old man. He held up her warp disc, holding the bracelet gracefully and gently between his thumb and middle finger. "You will he so kind as to reply, so that I may be certain whom I am addressing."

"Yes," she said, seeing no point in denying it. "I am Andre Cross.

The old man nodded once. "You need have no concern over your warp disc.

Miss Cross." he said. "It is undamaged. I have removed it carefully, so as not to activate the device which prevents its misuse. It shall he returned to you after we have spoken."

"Who are you?"

"I am Lin Tao, master of the Green Dragon tong.”

"You work for Drakov," she said bitterly.

"You are mistaken," Lin Tao said. "You were about to walk into a trap, as Mr. Doyle and Mr. Stoker have already done. They are in the hands of Count Dracula, the vampire Nikolai Drakov has created."

"I don't know where you've been getting your information," Andre said, "or even where you stand, but Drakov didn't create any vampires. A man named Moreau-"

Lin Tao held up his hand and she fell silent, fearing another nerve pinch or whatever it was the man beside her had done.

"Have the goodness to hear me out please," Lin Tao said. "It is not Phillips Moreau who has created this monstrosity, but his pupil, Nikolai Drakov, who has taken his work and carried it to a point beyond all sanity. However, Dr. Moreau does not deny that the responsibility is his, which is why he has pursued Nikolai Drakov to this timeline, to stop him even if it costs his life. I have undertaken to assist him in this task, as has Mr. H.G. Wells, who is at this very moment with your fellow temporal agents, informing them of this."

"Why should I believe you?" she said.

The man beside her moved, but Lin Tao shook his head very slightly and the finger withdrew from her side. Andre relaxed a little.

"Ask yourself how else I could know these things." Lin Tao said. "If I were not here to help you, what reason would there be for my attempting to deceive you? You are powerless to do anything against me and I could easily kill you. If Dr. Moreau and I were in league with Drakov, would you not now already be in Drakov's hands? Or dead? Or, perhaps, much worse than dead?"

He gave her back her warp disc.

"Go quickly and inform your fellow agents that Mr. Doyle and Mr. Stoker are in the gravest danger."

He nodded and one of the men opened the door of the coach for her. She stepped out into the street. at the entrance to a small courtyard.

"When you return with your fellow agents." said Lin Tao, "pay particular attention to the warehouse you will find at the far end of that courtyard." He pointed with a bony linger. "Please do not delay. Time is of the essence."

The driver whipped up the horses and the coach drove off into the fog.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Yes, who is it'?" said Moreau.

"It is Madame Tchu. Dr. Morro." said the mistress of the bordello. "Please to open door."

Jasmine glanced at him with alarm. "The old woman!" she said. "She mast have told her about me!"

"It's all right, Jasmine." said Moreau. "I won't let her send you away. But when your grandfather returns, remember your promise to abide by his decision."

"He will be very angry," she said. "He will send me home.”

"And with good reason," said Moreau. "But remember that you promised.”

The knock was repeated. "Dr. Morro!”

"

I think we had better let her in," Moreau said. He got up and went over to the door. "One moment, Madame Tchu," he said. He drew back the bolt and opened the door.

"You should have left well enough alone. Moreau," said Drakov, pushing the door open and shoving the woman in ahead of him.

"Forgive me, Dr. Morro!" said the madame. "Forgive me!" Moreau bolted for his revolver on the nightstand by the bed, but Drakov was too quick for him. He shoved Madame Tchu hard into Moreau and they both tumbled to the floor. As Drakov reached inside his coat, Jasmine let out a ki-yai and came flying across the room, feet extended, and delivered a punishing kick to Drakov's chest. He staggered back, but managed to keep his balance. He blocked her next two kicks, which came like a blur in rapid succession, and deflected the third kick by turning it aside, adding his force to its momentum to spin her around, exposing her back to him. He moved in quickly and seized her from behind in a judo choke hold, jerking her up into the air, ready to snap her neck, when Moreau came up with his revolver.

"Nikolai. no!"

Drakov hesitated, maintaining the pressure, not allowing her to breathe. Jasmine thrashed in his grip and started making choking sounds.

"Put down the gun or else I'll kill her." Drakov said.

"If you kill her, Nikolai," Moreau said, "nothing will save you. I will shoot you where you stand."

"I have no doubt of that," said Drakov, "but she will be dead, too. If her life means anything to you, throw down the gun."

Moreau hesitated. His hand holding the gun started to shake. Drakov applied more pressure and Jasmine started to rattle in her throat.

"Damn you," said Moreau. He threw the gun down on the floor.

"And your warp disc, as well," said Drakov. "Take it off carefully and drop it on the floor."

Moreau complied.

Drakov dropped Jasmine and she fell to the floor in a heap, coughing and gasping for air. Drakov pulled out a laser pistol and trained it on Moreau.

"That is the difference between us, Phillipe," he said. "I would have fired."

Moreau got down on his knees beside Jasmine and held her in his arms. She started sobbing.

"That is a rather dangerous young woman you have there," Drakov said. "She was much quicker than the guards downstairs." He prodded Madame Tchu with his foot. "Get up, woman. Go tend to your whores. Tell them to keep quiet if they know what's good for them."

She got up slowly and looked to Moreau, shaking her head with tears in her eyes.

"Go on, Madame Tchu," Moreau said. -Please go. There is nothing you can do.”

She ran out of the room.

"Somehow I never imagined I would find you in a whorehouse." Drakov said. "Really, Moreau. You disappoint me. Did you think I would fail to notice your Chinese thugs snooping about? Whom did you think you were dealing with? What did you hope to accomplish?"

"You know perfectly well," Moreau said.

"Why?" Drakov said. "What are these people to you? You are on opposing sides. Your superiors in the Special Operations Group would consider that I was doing them a favor."

"Perhaps they would condone what you have done," Moreau said, "but I cannot."

"I have only carried on your own work," said Drakov. "You should be proud. The pupil has surpassed his teacher."

"Yes, indeed you have," Moreau said, "and I will never forgive myself for the part that I have played in this. You may as well kill me now and get it over with. I no longer have any great desire to go on living. But if there is even one spark of human decency left in you, let her go. She is no threat to you."

"True," said Drakov, "but she seems to mean something to you, and I would hate to kill you now and deprive you of the opportunity to see just how far I have advanced your work. We will bring her with us.”

"Nikolai, please…

Drakov fired the laser and Moreau cried out as the beam grazed his shoulder, scorching the skin. Drakov grabbed Jasmine by the hair with his free hand and hauled her to her feet.

"I said, we will bring her with us. Pick up your warp disc and enter the coordinates I give you. Try any tricks and I will kill her

With a sick feeling, Moreau reached for his warp disc. He had no thought for his own welfare anymore. He only prayed Lin Tao would reach the temporal agents in time.

"Where the devil are we?" Brant Stoker whispered. "What happened?"

"I am not certain. Stoker, — Conan Doyle said, looking around, "but logic would seem to indicate that we have been drugged."

"Drugged!" said Stoker. "But I remember nothing!" "Precisely," Conan

Doyle said. "What is the last thing you remember clearly?"

"Being in Whitechapel, following Count Dracula into that courtyard

…" Stoker frowned and pulled at his pointed red beard absently. "And then it is all a blank!”

"As it is with me," said Conan Doyle. "The only possible explanation is that a drug was somehow administered to us and we were brought here senseless. As we neither drank nor consumed anything since we left the pub, I can only surmise that the drug must have been introduced through our lungs, perhaps through an airborne agent of some sort, such as a gas or powder we might have inhaled. Or through our skin, most probably from a distance, possibly by a dart fired from an African blowgun or some similar instrument. I would think the latter method, since the breeze would have rendered the former uncertain."

He reached out and took Stoker's chin in his hand, turning his face to one side. "As I suspected," he said. "There is a tiny wound upon your neck, slightly inflamed, little more than a pinprick. I would venture to say that I have a similar wound upon my own neck.”

"Yes, I see it," Stoker said. "Egad, Arthur. how do you know these things?"

"It is elementary my dear Stoker," Conan Doyle said. "Observation, logic and a great deal of reading. I also perceive that we are not in England anymore."

"What!" Stoker exclaimed. "Impossible!"

"I assure you that it is so." said Conan Doyle. "You have but to take stock of our immediate surroundings to convince yourself that I am right. Observe this room, the obvious age of these stone walls, the dimensions of the blocks used in the construction. Where in Whitechapel could we find such an edifice? We are in a sort of keep, Stoker, or a castle-"

"That we are not in Whitechapel, that I can accept," said Stoker, "but we must still be in England, on the Cornish coast perhaps-"

"On the contrary, Stoker. The architecture is of a style such as that employed by the knights of the Holy Roman Empire. This is not an English castle. Besides, if you will take a moment to smell the breeze coming in through that open window, you will notice that there is no smell of the sea, so we can eliminate the Cornish coast. No, Stoker, what I smell is pure. clean, fresh mountain air. Air which is not laden with the damp of English breezes. Observe, moreover, the tapestries hanging on these walls. They are Turkish, unless I am mistaken, and quite old, dating back to medieval days."

He walked over to the window, somewhat unsteadily, still feeling the aftereffects of the drug. Stoker sat up slowly, rubbing his head, and followed.

"Just as I thought." said Conan Doyle.

"Good God!" said Stoker.

They looked out upon a mountain view, with snowcapped peaks in the distance, covered by clouds. Below them was a sheer drop into an abyss. They were in a castle perched upon a cliff, overlooking a mountain pass.

"I must be dreaming!" Stoker said. "Where in heaven is this place?"

"Not in heaven, Stoker,” said Conan Doyle, "but somewhere in the Alpine range, most likely one of the Balkan nations."

"But… how is that possible? How did we get here? Who could have done this? — Stoker said.

"As to how we came here, that remains a mystery," said Conan Doyle. "But as to the identity of our abductor, there can be little doubt."

They heard a key turn in the lock and the door slowly creaked open. Dracula entered, carrying a candelabrum.

"Count Dracula," said Conan Doyle.

"I see you gentlemen are awake," said Dracula. "How are you feeling? I trust there were no ill effects?"

"Beyond a slight dizziness and a lingering headache, no," said Doyle. "We are apparently little the worse for wear."

"See here, Dracula!" said Stoker. "What is the meaning of this? What gives you the right to have us abducted in such a manner? What do you intend to do with us? I demand an explanation!"

"Calm yourself, Mr. Stoker," the vampire said. "You are in my home. Here, I am the master. I will insist that you address me in a civil tone. As to what gives me the right to bring you here, allow me to remind you that it was you who followed me, skulking in the night like a pair of common cutthroats."

"Whereas you. Count Dracula, are a singularly uncommon one," said Conan Doyle. "It was you, was it not, who was responsible for the vicious murders in Whitechapell"

"In part, yes."

'`Then my suspicions were correct," said Doyle. "There was more than just one killer. You had an accomplice."

"In a manner of speaking. yes."

"Then you admit it!" said Stoker.

"Certainly." said Dracula.

"You are a monster, sir!"

The vampire smiled ruefully. "In more ways than you realize, Mr. Stoker. I am, indeed, a monster. I could no more help myself than you could contain your moral outrage upon hearing my confession. In order to survive, I must drink human blood and if I am to spare my victims the agony of an existence such as mine, it is necessary for me to kill them. I cannot always do so, but when I do, believe me. I am doing them a kindness."

Stoker stared at him, appalled. "You are insane!"

"I shall not debate the point with you." said Dracula. "Insanity, you might say, runs in my family. The very idea of a creature such as I am is insanity itself.”

"Then you truly believe that you are a vampire'?" said Doyle. In response. Dracula bared his teeth, exposing his fangs. Stoker gasped and recoiled, but Doyle stood firm.

"Merely a malformation of the canines," he said. "An unfortunate defect, but not even all that uncommon. Certainly no proof of a supernatural existence."

"How very curious that you should use that word.” said Dracula. "Ironic, Mine is indeed a 'super-natural' existence, although not quite in the sense you mean. Come, allow me to show you something."

"The man is a raving lunatic!” whispered Stoker as Dracula led them out of the roomlighting their way down a long flight of stone stairs which followed the curvature of the castle wall.

"Unquestionably," said Doyle, "and highly dangerous, but he is nevertheless a man and not some reincarnated demon."

"He is only one and we are two," whispered Stoker. "We can easily overpower him-"

"Perhaps not so easily,” said Doyle. "Lunacy often tends extraordinary strength. I have seen grisly evidence of what this man can do in the bodies of his victims. Let us not be hasty. He has not acted alone in this. We must learn what we can and wait for a moment that is opportune, then we must make our move. But we must do it quickly. We can take no chances with this madman."

He led them down the stairs to the great hall of the castle and they saw that part of the huge structure was in ruins. Piles of rubble were on the floor where old mortar had given way and stones had fallen down, leaving large holes in the high ceiling. There was a gaping fissure in one wall and bats flew in and out of it, screeching, the echoes of their cries reverberating throughout the great hall. Huge cobwebs hung in the corners and rats scurried across the floor. Everything looked as if it had been abandoned for centuries. They continued downward, through a great wooden, iron- reinforced door and down another long, steep flight of stone steps, the light from the candelabrum throwing huge, garish shadows on the walls.

"Where are you taking us?" said Stoker fearfully. He stopped on the stone steps. "These stairs lead down to the dungeons, don't they?"

"Yes. Mr. Stoker, they do," the vampire said.

"In that case. I refuse to go another step!"

"I have no objection," Dracula said. "You may remain here if you wish and wait for us. Mr. Doyle, I think, would be interested in seeing what I have to show him."

"Very well, lead on," said Conan Doyle.

"Wait!" said Stoker, hurrying after them. He caught up to Doyle and whispered, "Forgive me, Arthur. I am ashamed of myself. Whatever happens from here on, we shall face it together!”

"There is no shame in being afraid," said Doyle. "I can feel my own knees shaking, but we must screw our courage to the sticking point and see this thing through, come what may."

"Listen!" Stoker whispered harshly. "What in heaven's name is that?"

From below, as if from a great distance, came a keening wail, an inhuman chorus of animal shrieks that grew louder as they descended.

"My God, Arthur," Stoker said hoarsely, "what on earth have we gotten ourselves into?"

"Steady, Stoker," Doyle said. "Whatever it is, we shall find out soon enough. Be prepared for anything."

They reached the bottom of the steps and followed Dracula down a damp, narrow stone corridor with a low ceiling. Stoker uttered a sound of disgust as huge rats scurried past their feet. Soon they reached another large wooden door. The screams were louder now. Dracula drew back a huge iron bolt and opened it. The chorus of screams rose suddenly in volume, almost deafening them.

They were on a stone landing high above a large, underground chamber lit by torches set into sconces in the walls. In front of them was a steep flight of stone steps, leading down to the dungeon floor. There was no wall or railing, nothing to stop them from falling to the stone floor thirty feet below should they lose their footing and slip.

"May the saints preserve us!" Stoker said. "We have descended into hell!"

Below them in the dungeon, behind thick iron bars set into the stone, were scores of creatures bearing only a passing resemblance to men and women. Their clothes were torn and filthy, stained with blood. Some were completely covered with hair, looking like rabid, snarling beasts. They hurled themselves against the iron bars and howled like wolves. Some attacked each other, jaws snapping, claws slashing, and a few had fallen and were being greedily devoured by others in their cells. Still others looked almost normal, except for their emaciated appearance, their hollow, staring eyes devoid of any sanity, and their abnormally long and pointed canine teeth, visible as they opened their mouths to emit throat-rending screams and thrust their hands out through the bars.

There were manacles set into the Wall and, in the center of the chamber, there was a smaller room partitioned off by steel-framed glass, inside of which they could see a bizarre array of laboratory equipment, among which were a number of large standing lamps, metal cabinets with trays holding surgical implements and a long operating table with strong restraining straps.

"Here is the solution to your case, gentlemen!" Dracula shouted over the uproar. "The dawn of a new race! The new breed brought forth by my creator!"

Both men stood frozen on the steps as Dracula descended to the floor of the chamber. He looked up at them, eyes blazing. "Here is true insanity for you!" he shouted over the din.

You wanted to learn the truth? Well, gaze upon it! Allow me to introduce you to my family! My brothers and my sisters! My creator's legacy!"

He hurled the candelabrum at the iron bars with all his might. sending sonic of the creatures scampering back.

"Shut up!" he screamed. "Shut up. damn you all. SHUT UP!"

As Conan Doyle and Stoker stood motionless, staring in stunned disbelief, the vampire slumped down, brought his hands up to his face and wept.

"For God's sake, Arthur!" Stoker said, grabbing Doyle's arm and spinning hint around. "This is madness! Hurry, we must get out of here before-"

He saw the expression on Doyle's face as Doyle looked past him and quickly turned around, expecting some new horror. Standing on the landing behind them was a beautiful young woman dressed all in white, with long black hair hanging loose down around her shoulders.

"My God!" said Stoker, "Violet!"

"Mr. Stoker!" she said, coming down towards them and holding out her arms. "Help me! Please! Take me away from this dreadful place!"

Stoker started towards her, but Doyle suddenly grabbed him and pulled him back. "Look out. Stoker!"

She snarled as Stoker was yanked out of her reach, revealing sharp, elongated canine teeth. She lunged at Doyle, but he twisted away from her and she screamed as her momentum carried her over the side of the long stairway. The scream was cut off abruptly as she struck the stone floor below, breaking her neck.

Dracula stood over the creature that had once been Violet Anderson, staring down at her broken body. "Forgive me, Violet," he said softly. "I could not help myself."

Slowly, he raised his head to look up at the two men above him on the stairway, his eyes glittering. Then he turned and walked over to the wall, taking a ring of keys down from a hook.

"Run, Stoker!" Doyle shouted.

As they sprinted back the way they came, the vampire threw open the first of the cell doors.

…

The lock on the warehouse door yielded to the laser easily. Steiger slowly pushed the door open while the others covered him.

"I think it would be best if you were to remain out here. Mr. Wells," said Forrester.

"Absolutely not," said Wells. "I will ask you to remember our agreement. General."

"I do remember it." said Forester, “and I appreciate your cooperation more than I can say, but my concern is for your safety."

"So long as Jane remains safe with your people at the Charing Cross Hotel, that is all that matters," Wells said.

"Mr. Neilson and Miss Craven will take good care of her." said Forrester, "and with Dr. Darkness there as well, she will he more than adequately protected. I'd feel much better if you were with them. If anything should happen to you-"

"You need have no fears on my account." said Wells. "I have no intention of indulging in any foolhardy heroics. But you will need me to deal with Lin Tao and Moreau. They trust me, whereas, I am sorry to say, they do not trust you people at all."

"I guess that makes us even," Steiger said. "I don't trust Moreau. And I don't know anything about this Lin Tao character."

"What is it you wish to know, Colonel Steiger?" said a voice from directly behind them.

They turned quickly to see the old Chinaman come walking towards them slowly out of the mist. He stopped a short distance away front them.

"It's him," said Andre.

The old man bowed. "I am Lin Tao."

"Stay right where you are," said Steiger, covering the old man with his disruptor, but Wells immediately stepped in front of him.

"Put that away!" he said. "Is that any way to treat a man who's trying to help you?"

"Stand aside, Wells," Steiger said, reaching out to shove Wells to one side, but Wells batted his arm away.

"General," he said, "I insist that you honor the terms of our agreement!"

"Steiger… Forrester said.

"Sir, I really don't think — "

"Put it away." said Forrester.

Reluctantly, Steiger holstered his disruptor.

"A wise decision, Colonel," Lin Tao said.

"Never mind that," Steiger said. "Where's Moreau?" "Regrettably, I have just now learned that he has fallen into the hands of Nikolai Drakov." Lin Tao said.

"How convenient. More likely they've been in this together from the start," Steiger said.

"It's a trap,” said Delaney.

"No!" said Wells. He turned to Forrester. "General, you must believe me-"

"Take it easy, Mr. Wells," said Forrester.

"If I had truly led you all into a trap," Lin Tao said, "then it would already have been sprung. Observe."

He clapped his hands once, sharply, and dark figures seemed to materialize out of the fog all around them. They moved noiselessly, carrying clubs and hatchets and various other weapons. They were all Chinese, wearing loose black pajamas and green headbands. There were at least fifty of them.

"Damn!" said Steiger, quickly unholstering his sidearm. Andre and Finn already had theirs out.

“Wait!" said Wells.

"Steady, people." Forrester said. "There's too many of them. We could never get them all. Besides, they could have nailed us as we clocked in."

"Quite so,” Lin Tao said, nodding slightly.

"Why?" said Steiger. "What's your interest in this?"

"Phillipe Moreau is my friend." Lin Tao said, "and Nikolai Drakov poses a danger to us all. And now there is a still more personal reason. Drakov has abducted my granddaughter, Ming Li. I am anxious for her safety. And I am concerned that we are wasting time." He spoke quickly in Chinese and the men who had appeared in answer to his summons moved quickly past them through the warehouse doors.

"This is crazy," Steiger said. "These people aren't trained troops. And we've got no idea what we're going into."

"There's only one way we're going to find out." said Andre.

"Hell, don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Delaney said, clapping Steiger on the shoulder. "We wanted reinforcements, now we've got 'em."

It was almost pitch black inside the warehouse. They moved slowly, waiting for their eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. The men of the Green Dragon tong had fanned out once they entered and now they moved like wraiths among the stacks of dusty wooden crates. Suddenly someone screamed.

There were shouts and more screams and over them, the sounds of bestial growling. A werewolf had dropped down from a stack of crates on one of the Chinese men and the victim had time for just one scream before his throat was torn out by the beast. Several of Lin Tao's men brought the creature down, only to be thrown violently aside as if they didn't weigh a thing. Three more men leaped upon the werewolf, brandishing their tong hatchets, and the creature howled as the sharp blades sank home, but even though mortally wounded, it continued fighting, killing all three of them before others jumped in to take their place.

Another creature had been spotted crouching atop a stack of crates and as it leaped, a dozen lethal throwing stars went spinning through the air, striking it in the chest, face, and head. With a doglike squeal of pain, it fell to the floor of the warehouse and died, but there were still others.

Hatchets rose and fell as the men of the Green Dragon fought with Drakov's creatures and human screams mixed with animal roars as both men and hominoids died. Delaney brought one down with his disruptor and the werewolf fell howling through the air, wreathed in a blue glow. It disintegrated before it hit the floor.

Andre stayed close to Wells, protecting him, firing at the creatures as they rushed at them out of the darkness. One landed on Forrester's back, but Forrester dislodged the creature and threw it into a stack of crates, then shot it as it came charging back at him. Lin Tao avoided a rush by one with a movement that was almost imperceptible. He seemed to lean to one side slightly at the very last moment and then his hands shot out in a blur of motion and the beast flew past him, its own momentum added to the force of Lin Tao's throw, so that it landed in just the right manner to break its neck,

It was over quickly. There had been about a dozen of the creatures, but their assault had been so furious that nineteen of Lin Tao's men had died. They stood over the corpse of one of the creatures, watching in mute fascination as, in death, itslowly reverted to its human form. Moments later, instead of a fearsome man beast, they were looking down at the crumpled, bleeding body of a teenage boy, not yet even old enough to shave.

"What manner of man could do such an awful thing?" said Wells hoarsely.

Forester looked away.

"This warehouse can't be Drakov's base of operations," said Delaney, "but those creatures were here protecting something."

There was a cry from the other end of the warehouse, someone shouting in Chinese. They rushed in the direction of the shout and found several of Lin Tao's men gathered around a large, glowing circle on the warehouse floor. The men of the tong drew back from it fearfully, pointing at it and talking excitedly among themselves in Chinese. The man who had first discovered it had stepped within the peculiar-looking borders of the ring: it had started to glow brightly and he had disappeared. Now, as they watched, its glow slowly faded once again.

"And that's what they were guarding," said Delaney, staring at the border circuits laid out in a circle on the floor.

"What is it?" said Wells.

"A chronoplate," said Andre. "Sort of an earlier version of the warp disc, obsolete now, but nevertheless, quite functional."

"Set in the active mode," said Steiger. "No Wonder we were never able to find any trace of the creatures. They were clocking in, killing, and then escaping through time, using this place as a transition point. There's got to be another plate mated to it on the other side… wherever in hell the other side is."

"And that is where Count Dracula has gone," Lin Tao said, "along with Mr. Conan Doyle and Mr. Stoker."

Forrester glanced at Lin Tao and spoke to the old man in rapid Chinese. Lin Tao raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear such fluency, then nodded once and bowed. He gave a quick, soft-spoken command and two of his men came up to stand on either side of Wells, taking him firmly by the arms.

"What?" said Wells, "Lin Tao, what is this?" Then realization dawned and he started to struggle, but it was useless. "No. wait!" he shouted. "Let me go!"

But it was already too late. He stood watching helplessly, unable to follow as the others stepped into the glowing circle and disappeared from view.

"Show me exactly where it happened," Grayson said.

Inspector Tremayne walked forward several yards, then backed up four paces and stood looking at the ground uncertainly. "Right here, I think." he said. "I had just turned the corner there and the blighter coshed me from behind, neat as you please. My head is still ringing like a bloody bell."

"And you saw nothing?"

"Not a blessed thing until I woke up just now and ran into you just down the street. How on earth did you know where to find me?"

"I received an urgent message at my home, delivered by a Chinaman," said Grayson. "He ran off before I had the chance to question him. It was a note directing me to find you here and with it was a ribbon of green cloth, a head scarf such as those worn by the members of the Green Dragon tong. Would you believe it, he even brought a coach for me to use."

"Then the Green Dragon is behind these murders!" said Tremayne.

"No," said Grayson. "Strange as it may seem, it would appear that they are trying to aid us."

"Well, they've got a damn peculiar way of going about it!" Tremayne said, rubbing his head.

"You still have your revolver?"

"Blimey, I didn't even think to check!" He slapped the pocket of his coat. "No, it wasn't taken," he said, pulling it out and checking it to make sure it was loaded.

Grayson pulled out his own revolver, a Webley, and looked around at the fog-shrouded street. "You say both Doyle and Stoker were following the Count as well?"

"All the way from the Lyceum," said Tremayne. "Left their coach when he did and followed him on foot. Damnedest thing, I thought at first they were together and merely traveling by separate coaches, but it soon became clear that they were dogging him just the same as I was."

"Which way did you last see them go?"

"Straight down that street there, into that courtyard."

"A cul-de-sac," said Grayson. "Nothing down there but an old warehouse. Hmmm… strange. How long would you say you were unconscious?"

"Damned if I know," Tremayne said. "Why? Does it make a difference?"

"It does if you were struck over the head after I was informed of it," Grayson said. "It took me perhaps half an hour to drive here by coach. If we assume that your assailant coshed you, then immediately took a coach straight to my lodgings to inform me of it, and allowing for the time it took me to arrive here, then we would have to be dealing with a time span of something over an hour at the very least and one has to wonder how they knew you would remain unconscious for so long. No, Tremayne, I do not think it could possibly have happened that way. Our friends in the Green Dragon are orchestrating these events in a most singular and peculiar manner, a manner that suggests complex organization."

"I don't understand," Tremayne said.

"Don't you?" said Grayson. "It seems obvious to me. They knew that you were following the Count because they were shadowing him themselves. You must have been spotted following him from the Lyceum, whereupon our friends in the Green Dragon sent word to me that you could be found unconscious here, long before you were actually assaulted. They planned to take you down right here, on this very spot, and they must have used some means to do it whereby they would know with some certainty how long you would remain unconscious- undoubtedly one of those strange Oriental fighting tricks of theirs-which can only mean that they knew Dracula would come here because they had trailed him to this place before. But why did they knock you out and then make certain I would be present on the scene a short while later? Because they wanted us here, but only at a specific time."

Tremayne stared at him, utterly confused. "I can make no sense of that, sir.”

"Can't you? There is only one possible answer to it all. The Green Dragon has been deeply involved in these events, possibly since their very beginning, and they have known far more than we have all along."

"What does it all mean?" Tremayne said.

"I wish to God I knew," said Grayson, frustrated. "Almost from the beginning, I have had the certain feeling that there was a great deal more to this case than met the eye. I continually had a sense that there were other presences involved. First these American scholars, who are clearly not involved in scholarship, but something far more complex and mysterious, to the extent that at least three of them were posing as British subjects-two as newspaper reporters and one right under our very noses in the crime lab! And now we learn that the Green Dragon is involved! Why? We have stumbled onto some sort of fantastically complicated plot,

Tremayne, but to what end?"

"Perhaps we need more men,” Tremayne said nervously.

"I wish I had an entire regiment with me," said Grayson, "but I fear there is no time to summon any reinforcements. Clearly, it was intended that I should be here now, in this precise place and at this very moment, but for what reason has yet to become apparent."

He looked around uneasily.

"The streets appear unusually deserted," he said, "even for this desolate part of town and for this late hour. Yet, I have the strongest intuition that we are not alone. There are unseen forces all around us. I can almost feel it. as a palpable tension in the very air!''

'

Tremayne glanced at him fearfully. "What are we to do, then?"

"You have your watch?" said Grayson.

"Right here."

"Good. Wait here for me. And watch yourself. If you hear me blow my whistle, you had best come running. Otherwise, if I have not returned within ten minutes, go for help."

"Where are you going?"

"Where it is apparently intended I should go," said Grayson. "To have a look around inside that warehouse."