He gently touched her swollen cheek. She stirred, murmuring something he couldn’t catch.
“Sam,” he said, carefully brushing the sweaty strands of red-gold hair away from her eyes. Though she obviously needed the sleep, they had to figure a way out of here before Kazdan came back.
Her eyes opened, but her gaze was unblinking, that of a sleeper still caught in a dream. The shadowed ring around her irises was stronger than ever before, the gray almost consuming the blue. “Ten minutes,” she mumbled, reaching out and touching his hand, her fingers as cold as his were warm.
He glanced at his watch. If she wanted ten minutes, then she would have ten minutes. Entwining his fingers with hers, he sat on the floor beside the bunk, leaning his head back against the wall as he waited for her to wake.
GABRIEL’S WARM HAND GRIPPED HERS, callused and strong, and somehow very comforting. Rather like the man himself, Sam thought. She opened her eyes. Gabriel was watching her, his gaze intense and concerned.
“You okay?” His voice was soft, yet she sensed the anger in it. Not at her, but perhaps at what had been done to her. Which was odd, really, when they were neither partners nor friends.
“Yes.” She felt like shit, but there was little to be gained by stating the obvious. Besides, she was alive, and that was more than she’d thought possible an hour ago. “How did you get here?”
“Karl bugged the men who took Jan. We arrived at the first camp in time to see you loaded into a truck. I followed you here.”
And had obviously gotten caught. She wondered what had stopped Jack from killing him outright. “Did you see Jan and Lyssa?”
“Karl has them. I’ll contact him when all this is over.”
“Good.” At least something had worked out the way it was supposed to. She studied their entwined fingers, but made no attempt to remove her hand. Nor did he—and for that, she was glad. There was something very comforting about his touch. “I’m sorry about your brother.”
His hazel gaze was suddenly warm and sent a shiver skating across her skin. “My brother is fine.”
She frowned. “But Jack said Stephan was dead.”
“Because both he and Mary know that Hanrahan was Stephan’s other identity.”
“But Hanrahan was killed.”
“Sort of.”
How could someone be “sort of” killed? She rubbed a hand across her eyes, wondering if her inability to understand had something to do with the ache still in her head. “Did you know Jack’s wife is the one impersonating Lyssa? She’s obviously a multi-shifter.”
“That surprises me. I didn’t think Kazdan was one to share.”
“I don’t think he is. I think he was ordered to.” She hesitated, then added, “Suzy is pregnant, and I can’t help but think the child might be Stephan’s rather than Jack’s—even if Jack chooses to believe otherwise.”
“No wonder he wanted Stephan dead. And no wonder he wants to take the throne and kill Sethanon.”
“He’s not the only one Jack plans to kill.”
He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“Mary was coming here—”
“Mary’s dead,” he interrupted, his voice sharp.
Her gaze flicked across his face, and she sensed the pain under the calm exterior. “You killed her.”
“She gave me no choice.”
Had she given him another option, would he have taken it? She suspected not—not when Mary had almost killed his brother. “When did you shoot her?”
The edge in her voice obviously caught his attention, because his gaze intensified. “Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes ago. Why?”
“Because she was apparently confirming details of the PM’s itinerary. Sethanon’s planning a hit sometime today.”
“A hit or a replacement?”
She shrugged. Either was possible, given what they’d seen on Jack’s disks, though she couldn’t see what simply assassinating him would achieve. Better to replace him and have background control.
He climbed to his feet and offered her his other hand. “Can you move?”
There was only one way to find out. She placed her free hand in his and climbed slowly to her feet. The small room spun several times and, for an instant, it felt as if her stomach were crawling up her throat. She swallowed heavily and asked, “Do you know the PM’s schedule?”
He shook his head. “But my brother will. SIU works with the Fed and State boys when it comes to official government visits. Are you going to fall if I let you go?”
“No.”
He released her hands, but he watched her warily for a minute or two before he moved across to the door and tested the handle. “Locked tight.”
She pulled the pin the hirsute stranger had given her out of her hair, but its shape caught her by surprise. It was an abstract man and woman, standing back to back, one dark, one light. The image was similar in theme to the tapestry in Jack’s office, but this particular image was one she’d seen before. She just couldn’t quite place where.
“Here, try to open it with this.”
He accepted the pin, a sudden, rueful smile catching the corners of his lips. “This will test my skills.”
According to her hirsute friend, it wouldn’t. She wondered who the man was and how he knew so much—about her, about Gabriel, and about what was going on. Was he one of Jack’s men? Or perhaps one of Sethanon’s?
But why would Sethanon—or even one of his or Jack’s men—want to help her?
Gabriel squatted in front of the door, his gaze intent as he shoved the pin into the lock and began to carefully turn it. After a few minutes, there was a faint click.
They were free of the cell. Now all they had to do was get out of this complex.
“WHEN I WAS LED DOWN here,” he said softly, as he rose, “there was a guard stationed to the left of the door. I couldn’t see anyone else, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be.”
Sam nodded. “You take out the first guard, I’ll look for others.” She could do that, even if she felt like shit. He didn’t ask if she was capable, which was refreshing. She’d only have to break a nail with Jack and you would have thought she was dying. Obviously fake concern, she now realized.
He grasped the handle, held up three fingers and counted them down. Then he thrust the door back hard. There was a grunt and the sound of something hitting the floor. Gabriel followed through fast. She ducked to the right. A guard stood at the far end of the room, rifle rising as he turned to face them.
“Gabriel, shooter, ten o’clock!” she warned, dropping to the ground.
He tore the gun from the grip of the unconscious guard near his feet and fired. The second guard went down with a muffled cry.
She hobbled over to the second guard’s prone form and scooped up his rifle. With her back against the wall, she studied the corridor beyond, listening and watching for any sort of alarm. Gabriel patted down the two men.
“Found a set of keys,” he said in a hushed voice, stopping on the opposite side of the doorway. “They might be of use.”
“It could be the keys to his house or even his mailbox, for all we know.” She kept her voice as low as his. “Chances are they won’t be car keys.”
“Our luck’s got to change sometime.”
Luck was something she’d learned never to rely on. “Do we go for a phone or a car?”
“I can’t risk phoning Stephan from here. It’s too dangerous—for him and for us.”
“Car, then. Do you know where we can find one?”
He hesitated, face suddenly grim. “Yes. And I know where we can get the keys.” He held up three fingers again.
She watched his countdown. At three she moved out, keeping low as she swung left. There was no one in sight.
“This way.” He motioned to the corridor leading off to the right.
She followed him, almost running to keep up with his long strides. By the time they reached the top of the looping corridor, sweat was trickling down her back, her
muscles ached and she felt light-headed. When he stopped to investigate another door, she leaned against the wall and desperately tried to catch her breath. Jack’s tests had sapped all her strength. She felt as fragile as an umbrella in a windstorm.
“You okay?”
Her gaze rose at his concerned question. Worry was very evident in his hazel eyes, which was natural, since he was using her as much as Jack. He was just being nicer about it. But she nodded. Weak or not, she had to go on. She had to stop Jack.
“You look sort of gray,” he said.
“So would you if you’d had a near-death experience.” The concern in his gaze got stronger, and she forced a smile. “Go. I don’t think we have that much time to play with.”
He nodded and moved through the door. She covered his back, scanning the room, weapon at the ready as she watched for any sign of movement. But there was no life here, only the dead—either in coffins or as a headless corpse sprawled on the floor.
Mary. That was where he intended to get the keys. She touched his arm. He glanced down at her, eyes bleak. He hadn’t wanted to see Mary like this, she realized.
“I’ll do it.”
He hesitated. “I’ll watch the exits.”
She walked over to Mary’s body. The one good thing about laser weapons was the cleanness of the death—there was no blood and, in this case, no head. Her stomach turned at the thought, and she kept her eyes averted from the blackened neck stump as she rifled through the dead woman’s clothes. She found a set of keys in her right jacket pocket, and a disk in her left.
If Mary was supposed to be confirming the PM’s route, then maybe this was it. Maybe luck was with them, for a change.
She rose, and they moved cautiously into the next corridor. Five minutes later, they were outside. It was almost too easy.
“Chopper’s gone,” he noted, pointing to the empty helicopter pad. “Kazdan’s obviously taken off already, though I’d like to know how, given it’s daylight and he wasn’t wearing a full protection suit.”
“They’ve developed some sort of second skin that protects them from the UV rays. The vamps in Jack’s house were wearing it. I snagged a piece.” Though God only knew what condition it would be in after being in her pocket all this time. She unlocked the car door, then tossed the keys across to Gabriel and climbed in the passenger side.
“That’s obviously how Mary moved about in daylight.” He glanced at her. “It’s not a good development.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.” She placed the disk into the onboard computer. The screen hummed to life, revealing an itinerary. She quickly scanned through it.
Gabriel headed for the gate. The slight shimmer that indicated an energy field disappeared as they neared. Obviously it had been designed to keep people out, not in.
“The PM’s got three appointments left,” she stated. “He’s having lunch with the Premier at a restaurant called Henry’s, and then he’s off to open the new shuttle port. Lastly, the state opera, tonight.”
“It’ll be the shuttle port,” he said, grim certainty in his voice. “There’s been a lot of opposition to it, and there’ll be plenty of reporters present. Sethanon likes an audience.”
She glanced at the clock. “Then we have three hours and twenty minutes to arrange some extra security and get there.”
“Call this number—” He hesitated as she grabbed the onboard phone, then gave her the number.
After several rings, there was a cautious, somewhat croaky, “Hello?” The screen remained static—whoever had answered wasn’t chancing the vid-screen.
“It’s Gabriel.”
The screen came to life, and a sandy-haired man stared back at her. Stephan, in yet another guise.
“Hi, Sam. Nice to see you back in safe hands.”
“Nice to be back in safe hands,” she said, somehow resisting the impulse to add that she was, as yet, unsure just how much safer she was in Gabriel’s hands.
His gaze went to Gabriel. “What’s up?”
Gabriel didn’t take his eyes off the road, which was just as well, given the speed they were traveling. “We think Sethanon’s planning to switch the PM sometime during the shuttle port opening. Kazdan’s the executioner.”
Stephan ran a hand over his shadowed jaw. “Security’s tight. SIU, State and the Feds are all involved.”
“Kazdan has a full rundown of the security plans. Mary handed them to him.”
Stephan’s eyes hardened. “She’s dead, I gather?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
In that instant, Sam saw another difference between the two men. Saw why Stephan, not Gabriel, was the leader. There was no remorse, no regret, in Stephan.
“You heading there now?” he asked.
“Yes, but it’s going to take us a couple of hours. We’re over near Western Port. How much pull has Byrne got?”
Byrne was on the Director’s staff, if Sam remembered rightly. But if Stephan was Hanrahan, why not just use his alter ego again?
“Enough. I’ll start phoning around. Call when you get to the port.”
The vid-screen went static. She glanced across to Gabriel. “Why not use Hanrahan?”
“Hanrahan’s dead.”
“He’s obviously not, because Stephan was just on the phone, and he’s Hanrahan.”
He gave her a sharp glance. “Well yes, but officially, Hanrahan is missing, presumed dead. It’s better for everyone if he remains that way.”
“Why?”
“Because too many people were starting to suspect Hanrahan.”
“So Stephan is a multi-shifter?”
Gabriel just shook his head. “See if the disk has a security map of the shuttle port.”
In other words, she thought, don’t ask any more questions. She brought up the menu and studied it. After a few minutes, she found a floor plan of the shuttle port. “If they’re going to make a switch, they’ll have to distract security long enough to do so.”
He nodded. “And it won’t happen where there are lots of people.”
“That cuts out the hangar. The official ribbon cutting’s in there.”
“It’ll probably happen either just before or just after. Have they got entry or exit routes marked?”
She pressed the screen several times. “Yep. He does a walk through the terminal, inspects the Control Center, opens the port, and then shuffles off in his car.”
“What’s the position of the Control Center?”
“Towers at the end of the terminal. Reached by express lift or stairs.”
“Ten to one that’s where the switch will happen.”
She frowned. “They’ll have to be quick.”
“True. But the lift will only hold ten or so people, and there’s nowhere to run once you stop it. Perfect situation.”
“Jack still has his mad bomber friend with him.”
“Who will no doubt cause a spectacular disturbance, drawing away the press and most of the security.”
“Won’t Stephan warn the SIU, the Feds and the State boys about the threat? Wouldn’t that be enough to stop the visit?”
“They’ll up security, but I doubt they’ll stop the opening. The PM’s waged a major battle against the greens to get these shuttle ports running, and I doubt an unconfirmed threat would be enough to stop him from opening them.”
“But the threat is more than unconfirmed. Jack’s definitely going to the airport to kill the PM. I heard him say so.”
He glanced at her. “I’m afraid the word of a cop under investigation for shooting her partner is not going to be taken seriously—especially when she states that same partner is one of the men behind the threat.”
Good point. “So it comes down to us,” she said grimly. “How fast does this baby go?”
“Why don’t we find out?” he said, and pressed the accelerator to the floor.
* * *
GABRIEL GLANCED UP AS A shadow fell over the security-com he was studying. Without even lookin
g, he had a fair idea who the shadow belonged to.
“Byrne,” he said, annoyed, but not entirely surprised, to see his brother standing in the middle of the shuttle port’s main security center. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Stephan, in his Byrne persona, leaned wearily against the center’s outer wall. “Kazdan owes us. I’ve come to claim the debt.”
A debt Gabriel could have easily claimed for them both. Given the energy it took to maintain a new image, his brother was a fool to risk coming here when he was still injured. But there was no point in saying anything, because there was no swaying Stephan once his mind was made up. “You stay here. Don’t go out there.” He pointed to the main terminal below them.
Stephan’s smile was one of agreement. “Where’s Sam?”
He split the screen, tuning in to Sam’s wristcom. The stairs in which she stood were brightly lit and empty. “In the control center stairwell. I’m about to head for the elevator mechanic’s room.”
“She’s alone?” Stephan frowned. “That’s a bit risky, isn’t it?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Kazdan will expect a guard in the stairs, but he’ll run if he hears any more than that. He certainly won’t expect to see Sam there. It might give her—and us—a slight advantage.”
“Let’s hope you’re right. I’ll take over here.” Stephan hesitated, his frown deepening as he jabbed a finger at the slender figure in the center of the screen. “What the hell is Lyssa doing here?”
Gabriel glanced at the screen. It was undoubtedly Lyssa’s form, but this woman’s walk was different—less graceful, more energetic. And given that the real Lyssa was safely tucked away, this was obviously the replacement. But if she was a multi-shifter, why would she wear this form here? Surely she’d have to be aware that the SIU and the Feds would be here. He paused. Maybe that was the entire idea. Kazdan would have found out by now that his prisoners had escaped. Maybe they were planning to frame the real Lyssa for the attempt on the PM’s life. The video evidence would be undeniable, especially since few authorities knew about multi-shifters.
He gripped his brother’s shoulder. “That’s not Lyssa.”
Stephan glanced at him sharply. “Why would you say that?”