Procession of the Dead Read Online Free PDF

elevators. The memory brought a lump to my throat and I had to struggle to focus. It would have been nice to grieve for Theo, but these could be my last few minutes alive and I wasn’t about to waste them mourning the dead. If I survived, there’d be plenty of time for Theo. My uncle would have expected nothing less of me. “Good evening, Mr. Tasso,” the operator smiled. “Which floor?”
    “Fifteen,” Tasso grunted.
    “Certainly, sir.” He shut the door and spoke into a microphone. “Floor fifteen. Mr. Tasso.”
    “Identification,” a dry, computer-controlled voice answered.
    Ford spoke his name. A small panel beneath the microphone clicked open and he pressed down his fingers. There was a brief pause, then the elevator began to rise, much faster and more smoothly than I expected. Like the building’s exterior, this might look like a throwback to simpler days, but it was modern and efficient beneath the surface, an oiled monster in an antique mask.
    Fifteen. That was The Cardinal’s floor, hence the security measures. Hellfire. No underlings on the fifteenth. I was being taken to the top man himself.
    The elevator arrived. We got out. It slid back down.
    Two Troops stood to either side of the doors, guns cocked. Three more were opposite. Apart from them, the place was deserted.
    The air conditioners were set a couple of degrees lower than normal—I felt goosebumps creep across the back of my neck from the chill. The carpets were scented but lightly, the smell of fresh washing. I wriggled my toes in the plush material. Pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
    Ford Tasso started ahead of me but I wasn’t ready to move yet and stood my ground. He stopped. Looked back. Raised a speculative eyebrow. “Well?”
    “What’s happening?” I asked. “An hour ago I was on my way to a run-of-the-mill meeting. Now my uncle’s dead, my future’s in tatters and I’m on the fifteenth floor of Party Central, presumably about to meet with The Cardinal himself. What the fuck’s going on?” I felt it was a reasonable question.
    Tasso shrugged indifferently. “Don’t know, kid. The Cardinal said to bring you in and that’s what I’m doing. Why he wants you, I neither know nor care. I don’t question the ways of The Cardinal.”
    “But he must have said something. There must be some—”
    He shook his head. “If you live long enough, you’ll realize The Cardinal don’t need a reason for anything. And he certainly doesn’t have to explain himself. Now come on and quit with the questions. You’ll find out the answers soon enough.”
    He led me down long corridors, past war chambers, function halls and several computer rooms. The fifteenth floor was an office building of its own, independent and self-supporting, geared to meet all The Cardinal’s needs. People moved in the various rooms that we passed, but silently and unobtrusively, like shadows. There was a sense of the sacred to the place.
    Tasso led me to a room marked BASE . A secretary sat outside, busy at her PC. There was always a secretary on hand. The Cardinal often worked right around the clock, in touch with contacts in all the different time zones the world could offer.
    She knew who we were without looking up. “Hello, Ford,” she said, fingers never slowing.
    “Hi, Mags. He ready for us?”
    “Yes. But it’s just the guest. You’re to stay here with me.” She looked up and winked. “Maybe he’s trying to push us together. We’d make a good match, huh?”
    He chuckled gruffly. “OK, kid,” he said. “You heard the lady. In you go.”
    I walked over to the door, raised my hand to knock, paused, looked to Tasso for a guiding word.
“In!”
he barked. I took a breath, opened the door and entered the dragon’s den.

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    A s the door closed I looked around with wide eyes. I hadn’t known what to expect, so I should have been ready for anything, but I was still taken by surprise.
    The room was black with puppets. They