“You stated before that the SIU does not bargain for its operatives,” she said. “You’d better hope that you’re wrong, because it’s your only chance to live.”
“Then there’s no chance at all.” Nursing his shattered limb with his right arm, he rolled fully onto his back. To say it hurt would be an understatement, but he needed to see where he was. The room was small, and the only exit points were the window behind the desk and the two doors, one opposite to where he lay and the other close to his left. He could hear no sound beyond this room. Hopefully, it meant it was just him and Rose here.
“I want Director Byrne’s silent number,” she continued.
He gave it to her. If she thought to get around the automatic tracing by using Stephan’s silent number, then she was very wrong.
He waited almost impatiently for her to grab the phone. All he needed was for her attention to be diverted for a second or two, and he was up and out the door. His arm might be shattered, but he still had two good legs. And the desperation to survive was a mighty fine painkiller.
Rose picked up the laser near the phone and pointed it in his direction. “Move and you die.”
She set the phone to speaker and dialed the number he’d given her. After several rings, Stephan’s familiar voice came online.
“Byrne here.”
“Director Byrne. How nice to finally speak to you.”
There was a brief silence. Though the trace was automatic, he knew Stephan was now ordering a second trace to start, this time involving satellites to track the exact location.
“Who is this?”
Rose glanced at her watch. As a cop, she’d know the call would be traced, but he doubted if she knew it could be tracked via satellite as well. That capability was a well-kept secret.
“I think you know who this is, Director. Shall we cut to the chase?”
“What do you want, Rose?”
“You know what I want. I have something to offer in exchange.”
“You must know we do not make exchanges for the lives of our operatives. We can’t afford to.”
“Then you condemn him to death.”
The silence seemed to stretch forever. Gabriel nursed his arm and wished, for the first time in his life, he knew what was going on in his brother’s mind. They both knew the rules—they both knew the risks of being caught in a situation like this. Both knew that, in the end, there was no real choice.
But had it been him on the other end of the phone, he would have found some way to give them another choice.
“Let me speak to him,” Stephan said eventually. “I want to know if he’s still alive.”
“Oh, he’s alive. Bleeding, sweating and silently cursing me, but he’s definitely alive.” She motioned toward the phone with the gun. “Speak to the man, Assistant Director.”
“Here, sir,” he said.
“Situation?”
Rose clicked the safety off the gun. A soft whine filled the room as the laser powered to full.
He took heed of the warning. “As she said.”
“Enough,” Rose cut in. “I want an answer, Director, and I want it fast.”
“Look, I haven’t the power for a decision like this. I need to go higher.”
Rose glanced at her watch again. “You have precisely two hours. Then he dies.”
“Just make sure he lives until you get my damn—”
Rose hit the receiver, cutting him off. “Four seconds until the trace was complete. That will really piss him off, don’t you think?”
Maybe. Maybe not. It depended on how fast the satellites got into action.
Rose reset the laser. “I’m afraid there’s a lot more to do, the least of which is ensuring you don’t bleed to death within the next couple of hours. Can’t have my insurance policy expiring before its proper time, now, can I?”
The woman was certifiably crazy. “It’s not something I want, I can assure you of that.”
She gave him a thin smile. “No doubt,” she said, and squeezed the trigger.
Gabriel swore and rolled away from the beam. His injured arm hit the floor, and agony exploded. Then the second burst of laser fire hit, sweeping him into unconsciousness.
—
Sam studied the warehouse through the Mustang’s rain-washed window. Even with the headlights on high beam, the building was little more than a hunched shadow in the stormy night.
“I can’t see what coming out here is going to achieve,” Jessie said, leaning on the steering wheel to peer through the windshield. “We went over everything already. There’s nothing here to find.”
“Maybe.” But she had to try, at the very least. “You’d better wait here. No sense in both of us getting wet.”
Jessie’s gaze was dubious. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” Sam opened the car door. The wind snatched it from her hands, flinging it fully open. She winced. “Sorry about that.”
Jessie shrugged. “There’s a flashlight in the glove compartment. Grab that.”
Sam did, even though she didn’t really need it. With all the lightning, the night was almost as bright as day. She climbed out and slammed the door shut. The wind tore at her hair, blowing it in all directions. The rain sheeted down, sluicing off her coat and soaking into her boots. Yet in the wildness, there was power. She could feel it running across her skin, crackling across her fingertips. She breathed deeply, drawing that energy inside, feeling it surge through every pore, every fiber, although she wasn’t entirely sure how this would help her to find Gabriel.
She walked toward the warehouse. The wind howled through the shattered windows lining the front of the building—an eerie sound that had goose bumps fleeing across her skin. Mixed with this moaning was the high-pitched scream of metal as the wind tore at the roofing. It sounded like the dead being tortured.
Shoving her hands in her coat pockets, and half-wishing she’d brought some gloves, Sam made her way down the side of the building. It briefly protected her from the full force of the wind, though the night was still bitterly cold. Thunder pealed in the distance. She began counting the seconds, but she had barely gotten to three before jagged lightning split the night sky. The center of the storm was only a mile away. Whether this would make any difference to what might happen, she wasn’t sure.
She reached the back and came out of the protection of the building. The wind slapped against her, forcing her to stagger several steps before she regained her footing. Lightning tore through the sky again. In the residual brightness, she saw the ramp and loading bay. This was it. This was where Gabriel had gotten shot.
She walked forward slowly, not toward the loading bay, but away from it. He’d been flying when he was hit, striving upward to escape the loading bay. He wouldn’t have come down close to it.
Overhead, thunder rumbled again. The power of the storm echoed through her—a force that filled her, completed her, in a way she couldn’t even begin to understand or hope to explain. When she clenched her hands, sparks danced across her knuckles, a visible sign of the energy coursing through her being.
It scared her. Terrified her. But if this power helped her find Gabriel, then she’d use it and worry about the consequences later.
She splashed through puddles, following the rain-slick pavement toward the rear of the property. Hopefully, there she’d find a clue that Stephan and Jessie had missed.
The fence line came into view. The double gates leading out of the property were padlocked. She turned left and walked along the perimeter, following instinct and hoping it wasn’t leading her astray.
Again, the sky rumbled. In the following flash of lightning, she saw something flapping wildly in the wind-torn darkness. A piece of material, caught in the fence.
She splashed quickly through the mud. The material was dark gray and felt like silk. The sort of material Gabriel favored in his jackets. She tore the strip free and rubbed it between her fingers. He must have snagged his jacket on the fence as he fell. She
hoped his jacket was the only casualty.
Thunder reverberated. Its power shuddered through her, and energy, as bright as the lightning itself, sparked again between her fingertips, this time dancing over the small strip of material.
Power hit her with the force of a hammer. She grunted and dropped to her knees, splashing mud into her face. But she ignored that and clenched the material tight, struggling to breathe under the weight of the energy running around her, through her.
Images struck—jagged pieces of information that knifed through her mind. A suburb full of redbrick houses. A street name. A factory perched between two supermarkets. A “For Sale” sign out front, bearing the number 52. Gabriel, pale and unconscious, stretched out on a gray carpet.
The power faded, leaving her trembling and gasping for breath. She shuddered and swiped the muddy water dripping from her nose. What the hell was that? And how had Joe known it would happen? Jesus, she had to find out just who he was and how he knew so much.
But right now that was not her main priority. She struggled upright, the material still clenched in her hand. But with most of the night’s power having left her system, it was little more than a sodden strip. Even so, it was proof that he’d been here, proof that she’d found what they could not. A clue. A possible hope.
As she made her way back to the car, she tapped her wristcom and quickly called the SIU.
“Christine? Patch me through to Director Byrne.”
Stephan came online. In the background she could hear strident alarms. “What do you want now, Agent Ryan?”
For the first time since she’d met him, Stephan actually looked, and sounded, stressed. “I know where he is, sir. I’m heading there now.”
“The address?”
She gave it to him. “I wouldn’t call in too many reinforcements, though. Might inflame the situation.”
“The situation is already inflamed. She gave us two hours.” He hesitated, glancing down. “Forty-five minutes ago. And Whittiker has escaped.”
That was not a good development. “Escaped? How?”
“We don’t know, and we can’t find him.”
“He’ll be heading to the factory to meet up with Rose and help fulfill his end of the bargain.”
“Maybe. I’ll meet you there, Agent Ryan.” He hesitated again, blue eyes sharp with anger. “Under no circumstances are you to move in until we get there, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Whether she actually obeyed was another matter.
Stephan grunted and signed off. She climbed into the car.
“I’m going to soak your seats, I’m afraid.”
Jessie waved a hand. “Forget it. Did you find anything?”
“I certainly did.” She grinned and punched the address into the onboard computer. “Let’s go rescue your brother.”
—
Jessie halted the Mustang in the supermarket parking lot two doors down from the factory. Sam shivered. Even though the car’s heating was on full, she still felt as cold as a snowflake in a storm. At least she’d discovered one thing tonight—this damn coat wasn’t exactly waterproof. At least not when the rain was more like a torrent than a gentle shower. Her sweater was sodden underneath.
She peered through the waterfall running down the windshield, trying to see the factory. A solitary light glimmered in front of the building, but against the force of the storm, it did little more than illuminate the small patch of ground directly beneath it.
She glanced at her watch. It had taken them half an hour to get here. That gave them forty-five minutes before Rose’s deadline ended. If Stephan didn’t get here soon…
Headlights glimmered through the rain. The car cruised past the factory, not slowing until it reached the parking lot entrance. It turned in and came to a halt beside them.
She climbed out of the Mustang. The wind cut through her sodden coat, as sharp as a knife. She shivered again and shoved her hands in her pockets. Not that it helped much.
Jessie stopped beside her. “Bitch of a night,” she said, as she wrapped a rubber band around her hair.
Stephan climbed out of the gray Ford. “It might play to our advantage,” he said. “With the force of the wind, it’s doubtful Rose will hear any noise we might make.”
“Orrin will.” Sam didn’t know why she was so certain of this. “Did you bring any backup, sir?”
Stephan nodded. “Briggs and Edmonds. They’re making their way around to the back of the building.”
“Let me go in and scout the situation. If Orrin’s there, we’ll have to get rid of him first.”
“Definitely not—”
“With all due respect, sir, we haven’t the time to stand here and argue. Orrin will hear you, but he won’t hear me.” Not with the storm and the night as her ally. She held out her hand. “Give me an earphone and just trust me.”
“I don’t care to risk my brother’s life—”
“Stephan,” Jessie interrupted softly, “it’s Gabriel’s only chance.”
He glanced at his sister and then handed Sam the earphone. “I want a running commentary, and I want you to call us the minute there’s a problem. Understand?”
She tucked the small device into her ear and nodded. “I’m not stupid enough to tackle Orrin alone, believe me.”
“Good.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a Holcroft laser. “Take this with you.”
The laser clung to her palm like a second skin and she felt safer. “Thanks.”
She turned and walked toward the factory. The wind tore at the gum trees along the fence line. Leaves and twigs littered the footpath, becoming miniature boats as they were caught in the rush of water streaming toward the gutters. At least the tree canopies protected her from the worst of the rain. She climbed the waist-high fence at the front of the building and stopped, letting her gaze roam across the dark factory.
Thunder rumbled across the night. Power surged, dancing through her soul. Energy again leapt across her fingertips, warming the chill from her flesh.
But through the power came the sensation of evil. Orrin was inside the factory, keeping watch near the back. The softer bite of evil that was Rose’s presence came from near the front of the building. Obviously, her best bet was to enter from somewhere near the middle.
Once she reached the meshed gate, she shoved the laser in her pocket, grabbed the links and began to climb. Her coat caught on one of the top rungs, tearing as she swung over. Water dripped past the sodden neck of her sweater, chilling her already cold flesh. She cursed softly.
“Problem, Agent Ryan?” Stephan’s voice breezed through the earphone, cold and efficient.
“No, sir,” she answered, keeping her voice low so that Orrin didn’t hear. “Just tore my friggin’ coat.”
“We’ll buy you a new one. You near the factory entrance yet?”
“I’m approaching the side door now, sir.”
She splashed through the puddles and up the stairs. The side door was padlocked. She picked up the lock, studying it in frustration. Just great. She didn’t have her pick with her, and if she shot her way in, it might alert those inside.
She studied the long building. In the brief flash of lightning, she saw windows high up. Too high for her. Unlike Gabriel, she hadn’t the option of flight—nor were there any trees close enough to use as a ladder.
Her gaze returned to the lock. Thunder rumbled, and once again the force of the storm surged through her body. The energy tingling across her fingers became a bright, blue-white flame that danced across the lock, encasing it in fire.
In a heartbeat, it was little more than dust in her hand.
The flame muted again, but it didn’t completely disappear. She stared at the blackened scraps in her hand. What sort of psychic ability was that?
She didn’t know, and right now she didn’t care. Not if it helped free Gabriel.
She raised her hand, letting the wind scatter the lock’s remains. Then she carefully opened the door. The passageway beyond was
dark and narrow—not the sort of place she really wanted to get caught in. There was absolutely no fighting room.
But she had little choice. Orrin still stood guard near the back. Rose was near the front. Gabriel was probably somewhere between the two.
“Entering the factory now,” she said, closing the door carefully behind her.
“See if you can find Gabriel and get him out of there. We’ll take care of the rest.”
That was just fine by her. She’d never had a death wish, and Orrin was not someone she ever wanted to confront.
She eased forward, her fingers wrapped so tightly around the laser that her knuckles practically glowed. The air smelled stale, old, and a steady, moaning creak filled the silence—the wind tearing at the loose roofing.
The passage curved around to the right and opened onto a set of stairs. Sam stopped, listening. The awareness of evil stirred through her. Orrin still stood guard near the back of the building, but Rose was on the move. Sam’s sense of her flowed across the darkness, moving steadily closer. Had Rose heard the door open? Did she suspect something was wrong?
Sam had no idea, nor was there any use worrying about it. She had to get off these stairs and out of Rose’s way before she appeared. Right now, it was better that she avoid being seen—at least until she’d found Gabriel and knew he was safe.
And once she knew that, she was more than willing to back away and let Stephan vent his anger. Would Orrin and Rose survive that? She very much doubted it.
She edged quietly down the steps, stopping again at the bottom. Thunder vibrated through the air. The following flash of lightning briefly illuminated a vast, empty space. She looked up. Skylights were regularly spaced along the roofline. She’d have to watch that she wasn’t caught in the open during the next flash. It would be just her luck that Rose would walk by at that precise moment.