Free The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen by Kevin J. Anderson Page A

stairs ended abruptly against a trapdoor.
    His gloved hand grabbed at the handle of the trapdoor, but it was locked.
Taking little pleasure but great satisfaction, Quatermain charged forward and
was almost upon him—
    When the Fantom's Lieutenant Dante dropped from nowhere and slammed into him.
Quatermain staggered, losing his balance.
    "Run, James!" Dante shouted.
    The Fantom smashed at the trapdoor with his armored shoulder, broke it open,
and hauled himself up to the next floor.
    Recovering himself, Quatermam slammed a heavy fist into Dante's chin, and the
lieutenant reciprocated with punches of his own. Finally, the old hunter,
impatient to be after his true quarry, delivered a decisive head-butt, which
sent Dante reeling. Quatermain shoved the other man aside and pushed forward,
silently cursing Dorian Gray. "Why does one man require such a ridiculously
large house?"
    Bested for now, Dante stumbled into the shadows.
    From across the upper level of the library, the imposter marksman saw the
Fantom about to escape. He kicked an advancing marksman aside and clashed off to
help Quatermain.
    Reaching the edge of the upper level, he did not pause but took a flying leap
over the railing of the alcove and landed on the same floor. Panting, and
grinning, he joined in the pursuit of the Fantom.

    Meanwhile, Nemo ducked, rolled, and leaped. He seemed untouchable,
unshootable. He broke limbs without mercy. The marksmen had never seen anything
like him. They could understand bullets and knives and clubs… but not this. The
captains face wore such an intense and merciless expression that the henchmen
turned to run away in terror.
    Instead, they ran into Dorian Gray and his wicked, slender sword.
    The suave man stabbed and slashed, looking uninterested even as the henchmen
fought back, howling. He was oblivious to the wounds that the men inflicted on
him. "Ow," he said, though his tone of voice was less than convincing.
    A skewered marksman fell to his knees before Gray and took a death grip on
Grays shirt beneath the smoking jacket. It tore open, affording the man a dying
glimpse of Grays wounds as they healed completely before his eyes.
    "What are you?" the henchman gasped.
    Gray pulled his long blade from the man's body and kicked him aside like a
discarded pillow. "I'm… complicated."

    Across the room, the invisible man had found a blade of his own and went to
work. His hovering knife floated and swooped like a flying projectile. The
nearest henchman didn't understand what he was seeing, until the blade swung
down to slash his throat.
    Leaving blood droplets dancing in the air, the invisibly wielded blade struck
sideways beneath the marksman's raised left arm to exploit the opening in the
bulletproof armor. The knife dealt a lethal blow to the man's heart.

    Pulling ahead of Quatermain, the imposter marksman chased the Fantom up two
more flights of decaying stairs. "I sure didn't think a man in such fancy duds
could run like a greased pig!"
    Cocking his Winchester one-handed again, he let loose another booming shot up
through rotted floorboards. Splinters and dust flew from the blast, but the
hoped-for cry of pain from the Fantom did not come.
    The masked villain smashed through a thin barricade to reach the dim, topmost
level of Dorian Gray's old dock house. Every window in the attic was bricked up,
leaving no escape.
    Face flushed, his rifle extended, the young imposter cornered the evil
mastermind. The Fantom backed against the grimy wallboards, which had been
weakened by age and decay.
    The masked villain turned and with fearless resolve threw himself against the
thin patch of wallboards. Engulfed in dust and cobwebs, he broke completely
through the attic wall and plunged out into the night.
    "Hey!" The imposter marksman cursed and raced for the broken opening. He
peered through it, desperately trying to get a glimpse of the escaped man, but
saw nothing.
    A moment later, Quatermain