"Are you crazy? You're going after Hebert without a gun?"
"I won't need it." He glanced down at the machete holstered on his belt. "In the swamp, guns aren't my weapon of choice." He turned and crossed the platform. "Keep cool until I get back."
"Joe, dammit."
He glanced over his shoulder at her. "You know I'm right. You know you'll be an albatross and could get me killed. You know you'd have to shoot me to keep me from going after him."
"I might do it."
He shook his head as he jumped into the boat. "Move, Dufour."
"Joe."
"You shouldn't leave the lady alone," Dufour said. "What if a snake—"
"Go," Joe said.
Eve's hand clenched on the butt of the gun as she watched the boat glide away from the island. Joe's head was lifted as if he was scenting the wind. Maybe he was. Nothing would have surprised her in this strange, fierce Joe.
She shouldn't have let him go. She should have found a way to stop him.
Yet he was right. Joe knew what he was doing, and she could have put him in terrible danger if she'd gotten in his way. No matter how much she wanted to help, logic told her that going with him would have been a mistake.
Screw logic. She hated feeling this helpless.
She crossed to the edge of the platform, her gaze straining to get a last glimpse of Joe. Too late. The boat had already turned the bend of the bayou and was out of sight.
Come back.
Be safe, Joe.
Come back.
-------------------
"It should be right around the next bend, Quinn," Dufour said without turning around. "A few minutes. No more." Where was that bastard Hebert? Dufour didn't want to be the one to take out Quinn. He didn't like the vibes the man was sending out.
Hebert had promised him things would go smoothly, and yet Quinn had already taken the woman out of the situation. He'd tell Hebert that he wasn't to blame, that it wasn't his fault.
Another moment passed.
No Hebert.
He would have to do it himself.
"There's your island. On the left." He cut the engine and gestured with one hand while the other reached surreptitiously into his knapsack for his gun. "It's not much of a place. The house is burnt to the ground, and look at that—"
He whirled with the gun in his hand and fired.
"What the—"
No one was there! Quinn's jacket and boots were on the bottom of the boat, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Then Dufour saw him, beneath the water on the left side of the boat, moving fast.
Shit. Lightning fast. Toward the boat, not away from it.
Dufour carefully aimed and fired.
-------------------
Eve glanced at her watch. Jesus, it had been only fifteen minutes. It had seemed like an hour. She couldn't take this. What was she going to do? she thought bitterly. Go swimming after them through the swamp? She should never have let—
A shot.
Her heart leaped in panic. Joe didn't have a gun. It was here in her hand.
Another shot. Then another.
Oh, God.
"There's a very good chance he's dead, Eve."
She whirled to the right from where the voice had come, raising the pistol.
A bullet shattered the barrel of the gun, the force of the vibration whipping the weapon from her grip. She got a lightning glimpse of Hebert as she dropped to the ground. He was sitting in a canoe, pointing a rifle at her.
"So much violence. I would never have thought it of you." He cradled the rifle in his arm as he paddled closer to the pier. "And when I was trying to be merciful and give you a little more time. I could have killed you before you even knew I was here. You didn't hear me coming, did you?"
"No."
"That's because I don't believe in using motor-boats when I'm in the swamp. A paddle can be whisper-silent if it's wielded by someone who knows what he's doing. Now, I'm going to get out of this boat. Don't move or I'll be forced to blow your head off." Hebert stood up and jumped onto the pier. "There. You can get up now."
Eve slowly got to her feet. "Where's Joe, Rick?"
"You recognize me? But then, my disguise wasn't that elaborate. I thought you'd been too ill that night to pay me much attention. Still, I did make Rick Vadim a likable fellow, didn't I?"
"Where's Joe?"
"The last time I caught sight of him, Dufour was going around a bend near the research island. I was going to take Quinn out, but I couldn't get close enough to him without him seeing me."
"We thought you'd be waiting there on the island."
Hebert shook his head. "No cover. I had to get some distance away. But then I saw you weren't in the boat, and I knew he must have dropped you someplace. So I decided to let Dufour take his chances with Quinn and come back and find you."
"So you found me. Now what?"
"You heard the shots. We wait to see if Dufour comes back alone."
"Or if Joe comes back alone."
"There's always that possibility. I hear Quinn is very good."
"Better than you. Better than anyone." Eve's nails bit into her palms as her hands clenched into fists. "He's not dead."
"Then he'll come back for you. And I'll be here. You shouldn't have come here. It was useless. Do you think I wouldn't have come back and made sure there wasn't any evidence?"
"You're not infallible. You've made mistakes before. Evidently you made one here."
"I'm not the only one who makes mistakes. Quinn made a big one leaving you here."
"He thought I'd be safe. He wanted to protect me."
"And he's desperate to get back in your good graces. He wanted to fight the wicked monster and lay my carcass at your feet." Hebert smiled. "You know, I was sorry at the time that I had to pull you into the reconstruction by using your daughter, but it does keep paying dividends."
"Sorry?"
"I'm not made of stone."
"You're a murderer."
"So is a Medal of Honor winner who kills the enemy in battle. It's all a matter of means and ends."
"You're no hero."
"I never said I was. I just fight for what I believe in."
"And you believe it's right to kill me."
"I believe it's necessary. But I'm a little sad to do it. I admire your strength. I'll give you as long as I can before I put you down. I know how precious every moment can be." Hebert's gaze shifted to the bayou and he moved to the shadows at the side of the platform. "You just stand there where Quinn can see you when he comes around that curve in the bayou."
"And you'll pick him off."
"If Dufour hasn't done it for me. I paid him well enough to do the job, but I'm not sure he has the balls to tackle Quinn."
Eve drew a deep breath. "Joe doesn't have to die."
"Of course he does. You know better than that. He knows too much. It's my duty to keep the Cabal safe."
"The FBI already knows of its existence."
"Suspects." Hebert smiled faintly. "There's a difference. We have people in almost every FBI field office in the country. Evidence gets misplaced, information doesn't get to key personnel, agents who know too much have 'accidents.' "
"Like your brother. You killed him, didn't you?"
His smile disappeared. "He betrayed me; he betrayed the Cabal."
"How?"
"I made a mistake. Once I'd tracked them down, and found Bently and Simmons here doing research on fuel cells, I sent Etienne to work for Bently and Simmons to bring in supplies from the city. I thought it would be easier for him to destroy them and the prototypes from inside. They trusted him. Everyone trusted Etienne. He was everyone's friend."
"When he wasn't killing people?"
"He never killed anyone. I took him along because I hoped if the Cabal could see how loyal he was, they'd accept him. I taught him everything I could, but he had no heart for it. Still, I wanted him with me. I was lonely." He drew a deep breath. "I set the charge to b
low up the facility, but Etienne was the one who went in to verify that they'd both been killed after the explosion. People were used to seeing Etienne go back and forth to the island, so it was less suspicious. He told me that he'd seen the bodies and buried them."
"He didn't?"
"He liked Bently and Simmons." Hebert's lips tightened. "He liked everybody. He was only a youngster, and it wouldn't have been hard for a smart man to manipulate him. I thought everything was fine. Until four months ago, when our sources in Detroit told the Cabal that there were new purchases being made similar to the ones that were bought by Bently two years ago. The order came from Louisiana."
"It could have been someone else experimenting."
"That wasn't quite all. During the last two months, three Cabal members from Louisiana have died under circumstances that were a little suspect. They could have been accidents, but all three were known to be against environmental restrictions. The Cabal doesn't like coincidences, and they don't like their members targeted."
"Revenge?"
"It was a possibility." Hebert smiled grimly. "Enough to scare Melton shitless. He was afraid he'd be next."
"But how would Bently or Simmons know who the Cabal members were?"
"Haven't you guessed? Bently belonged to the Cabal for over four years. He believed, as I do, that the power of the Cabal could work miracles. He was the one who brought Simmons's invention to our attention. He wanted our help. Then when it was decided that the fuel cell had to disappear, he dropped out of sight and took Simmons with him."
"They sent you after them."
"And I found them. I always find them."
"But this time you fouled up, didn't you? You failed your precious Cabal."
"I didn't fail them," he said, stung. "I made a mistake, that's all. A mistake I corrected. After we heard from Detroit, we had to make sure that both the research and the men who'd done it were destroyed. Melton asked me if I was positive Simmons and Bently were dead. Of course I was positive. Hadn't the person closest to me, the only man I trusted, told me that they were? But they asked me if I'd seen the bodies myself. What could I say? So they told me to go get the skeletons for DNA testing. I was in Barcelona at the time and I called Etienne and told him to retrieve the skeletons and meet me at Sarah Bayou near Baton Rouge. Melton had already arranged for a forensic anthropologist and DNA expert to meet us at the church, so that we could rush the tests." He was silent a moment. "When Etienne showed up with the coffin, I could tell something was wrong the minute I saw him."
"He didn't have the skeletons?"
"Neither one. Just that damn skull. At first, he told me that the skeletons had been stolen. Then when he could see I didn't believe him, he told me he'd destroyed both skeletons but had brought me Harold Bently's skull."
"Why?"
"He thought it would get me off the hook with the Cabal. He'd made sure the skull was almost impossible to identify, but he didn't want to get me in trouble. He was proud of himself for thinking of a way to save me and still keep the Cabal from getting what it wanted."
"But it didn't save Etienne, did it?"
"He didn't understand. I talked to him for hours trying to persuade him to tell me if we'd killed both men, and to whom the skull belonged. He wouldn't tell me anything. All he'd say was that what the Cabal was doing was wrong and we should do what was right. He wanted me to break with the Cabal." He shook his head. "He didn't understand. The world would be chaos without the Cabal to guarantee order. There have to be checks and balances. Someone has to guide our path."
My God, he actually believes what he's saying. "I'm with Etienne. I don't understand that concept, either. It's just propaganda. So you killed him?"
"You make it sound so easy," Hebert said bitterly. "You think I wanted to do it? I loved him. If there had been a way to save him, I would have done it."
"There's always a choice."
"I had to tell the Cabal what he'd done. It was my duty. He'd betrayed them."
"And they told you what to do."
"Yes, Melton said to find a way to lure him to the church and dispose of him there. It was isolated enough for our purpose, and for what I had to do." He paused. "I told Etienne that we'd find a way to fool the Cabal. I'd steal a skeleton from one of the old graveyards outside of town and put it in the coffin, so that we'd have something for the experts who were supposed to be waiting at the church to examine it." He swallowed. "It was easy. He thought it was a wonderful idea. He wanted to believe me. He always wanted to believe me."
"Until the minute he died?"
"Until the minute he died." Hebert's eyes glittered with tears. "It was a merciful death. He was happy until the end."
"No death is merciful."
"It could have been worse. Melton told me that I had to make him talk before he died. That's why he wanted me to take him to the church—so that I'd have all the privacy I needed. I'm very good at making people talk. I know every agonizing way. I couldn't do that to Etienne. He was very strong, very stubborn. It would have been a long, long time before he broke, and then he would have had to die anyway. So I disobeyed and killed him quickly." His lips twisted. "Melton wasn't pleased. I had to find a way to make amends for destroying any information Etienne might have given me."
"And you found me."
"I found you."
"But you couldn't know if Etienne had told you the truth about Bently's skull."
Hebert shook his head. "I thought I knew him well enough to know if he was lying about it— although he'd managed to fool me for two years. I could only hope." He paused. "But after you became ill, I knew that either Bently or Simmons must still be alive. One of them wanted you dead, so that no one would know that he was still alive and working on the fuel cells. I questioned Marie Letaux that night before she died, but she genuinely had no idea who had hired her. She got a phone call and then money in her mailbox, and the promise of a final payment when she'd done the job. She kept saying that it was only supposed to make you ill. That it wasn't her fault." He shrugged. "She was no help to me. I had to wait until you'd finished the reconstruction to find out which one had hired her."
"How did you find out the skull was Bently's?"
"A mole in Rusk's FBI office. Jennings told Rusk right before he died that your reconstruction was definitely Bently. All hell broke loose after Jennings was killed; it was easy enough to pick up the info."
"Then your mole must have found out what Jennings discovered about Boca Raton. What was it?" Hebert smiled faintly as he shook his head. "So that you can ride to the rescue? You still think you're going to live through this, don't you? I've always found that no one really believes they're going to die until they do. I assure you, Eve, if I told you what was going to happen, you still wouldn't be able to save the old tiger. The plan's already in motion, and calculated down to the last gasp."
"Then you shouldn't mind telling me."
"But I do. Life still has to have some mysteries. You'd only fret, and your last moments should be worry-free."
"You're not worry-free. Even if you kill me, you're still going to have to contend with Simmons."
"I'll find him. I know who I'm looking for now. It's difficult for a man to hide in this world, particularly if the Cabal is looking for him." Hebert's glance shifted again to the bayou, and he moved to the edge of the platform. "Quinn's been a long time. I'm beginning to wonder if I should—"
He shrieked.
A machete blade had bitten through the bone and sinew of the hand holding his gun. The weapon dropped from his almost-severed right hand, and Eve dove across the deck to get it.
"No!" Joe spat out the reed between his teeth. "Stay away from him." He lunged up from the mud beside the platform, grabbed Hebert's knees, and jerked him backward into the mud.
Hebert was struggling desperately. She suddenly saw a glint of metal in his left hand.
Oh, God, Hebert had a knife. And Joe had thrown his weapon at him.
Eve lifted the gun
to aim at Hebert, but the two men were rolling, sinking, fighting in the watery mud. She might hit Joe.
She jumped off the deck into the mud and waded toward them.
"Joe, get away from him for a minute. I can't—"
Hebert's knife was gone, sent spinning into the mud by a blow from the edge of Joe's hand.
And then Joe was on top of Hebert. His hands closed in a stranglehold on Hebert's throat. He pushed his head under the mud and held him there. Hebert's arms and legs flailed helplessly as he struggled for breath. The mud was suffocating him.
"Joe," Eve whispered.
For an instant she wasn't sure he had heard her, and when he glanced sideways she flinched at the sheer blind ferocity she saw in his expression.
Joe drew a deep breath, and then his grasp strengthened and she heard a snap as he broke Hebert's neck.
He released Hebert, stood, and stepped back. "I expected a harder time with him."
"Why?" Eve drew a shaky breath. "You almost severed his hand when you threw that machete."
"He was pointing a gun at you."
She shivered as she stared down at Jules Hebert lying in the mud, his face submerged beneath the surface.
"Did he hurt you?"
Eve turned to look at Joe. Covered with mud, he was still almost as terrifying a figure as the creature that had lunged out of that muck and unleashed a spearhead of death, blood, and violence.
"Dammit, did he hurt you?" Joe repeated.
"He didn't touch me. How about you?"
"A few bruises. Not that you could tell under all this mud. You're almost as muddy as I am. Why the hell didn't you stay out of it?"
Because she couldn't stand by when she saw him in danger. "He had a knife."
"Did I look like I was helpless?"
No, he had looked absolutely terrifying. She tried to smile. "You reminded me of Swamp Thing."
"That's what I feel like." Joe grasped Eve's shoulders and glared down at her. "You listen to me. Never again. This is the last time I'll let you risk your neck. I can't take it. Screw women's lib." He turned, waded through the mud toward Hebert's canoe, and crawled into it. "I'll be right back. I'm going to take Hebert's canoe around the bend to where I left Dufour's motor-boat. We'll go back to town and clean up."