I’m trying to keep an eye on both him and the doorway. “I said I have your brother!”
No reply.
How to do this?
How to do this?
Make sure this guy’s not a threat.
“Get on your knees.”
He doesn’t move.
“Now.”
But that’s when I hear the front door bang open and Charlene cry out, “Jevin, he’s got — ouch!”
“Don’t!” Anger flares up inside me. “Touch her!”
He got outside, got to the women!
“Give my brother the gun,” the man down the hallway demands. He’s still out of sight, as are Charlene and Riah.
The twin I’m aiming the pistol at speaks to me calmly. “My brother will kill her, I assure you. He has the other agent’s gun. Now set down your weapon. Kick it to me.”
From the foyer: “I’ll give you five seconds.”
No!
“Five—”
Thoughts whip through my head: If you shoot this guy, his brother will kill Charlene, Riah too—
“Four—”
But if you stall long enough—
“Three—”
The police or more Secret Service agents can get—
Charlene: “Jevin, he—!”
“Two—”
“Okay!” I lower the gun. “I am. Let her be!”
The man with the scar indicates toward the floor. “Slowly.”
I bend down and place the gun on the floor, then slide it toward him. While he retrieves it, I stand, brushing my hand across my pocket. He doesn’t notice but gestures toward the wall to my left. “Stand over there.”
I cross the room.
“Okay, Daniel,” he calls to the foyer. “Bring her in.”
I survey my surroundings. The surgical tools on the counter across the room could serve as weapons. There’s a scalpel, a small saw, and a trocar — a hollow, spear-like probe about a foot and a half long. One end is attached to a rubber tube that leads to a pressure pump and plastic tub of yellowish liquid, the other end is sharpened, with a hole it. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the trocar is used for filling body cavities with embalming fluid.
The plastic tub has a warning on it: FORMALDEHYDE.
Yes. If I could get to that—
Riah and Charlene enter through the doorway, followed by Daniel, who holds a gun identical to the one I’d found.
The crowd gasped as the man stepped off the roof of the Franklin Grand Hotel.
Then exploded.
And disappeared in midair.
I berate myself for leaving the women alone, for not getting them out of here. “Are you two okay?”
They both nod.
“Riah.” Darren’s voice is flat. “Who are these people?”
She doesn’t respond to his question but asks one of her own: “Why the president, Darren? How is he a threat to national security? Why are you doing this?”
He motions for her and Charlene to stand beside me and they do. All of us have our hands up. Daniel joins his brother, who replies to Dr. Colette, “He wants to shut down Project Alpha, but what we’re doing here, Riah, this will save the lives of thousands of American soldiers.”
Daniel goes on, continuing as if he’s thinking the exact same thoughts as his brother: “It’ll give us the upper hand around the globe in fighting terrorism. You must know that too. We can’t just abandon it.”
“More people like Malik?”
“Yes”—it’s Darren now—“his death saved hundreds of lives. That’s just one example. We can save tens of thousands more.” He looks at Daniel, who says, “The cuffs.”
“Yes.”
Daniel stows his gun on the counter next to the trocar and embalming fluid. He leans over the dead woman’s body and removes the pair of steel handcuffs she was carrying, slips them into the back pocket of his jeans, then visits the man’s corpse and retrieves the cuffs from him as well.
I’d given Charlene back her earring a few minutes ago. If I were cuffed right now, I wasn’t sure how I would pick the lock.
I opt for stalling and think back to what Glenn Banner said when he was dying — the threat, the man who would find me, the hero who avenges. “It was Akinsanya, right? He was the sniper in Kabul, wasn’t he?”
The men look at me with interest but say nothing.
“Okay, Riah,” Darren begins. “It looks like we’re going to have to move to a new location. We’ll take care of things from there. You’re still going to help us, aren’t you — or have you changed your mind?”
She points to Charlene and me. “I’ll help you if you let these two live.” I’m not sure if she’s bluffing. I sense no deception in her words. She brought the medical instruments, and I wasn’t sure if maybe she’d been planning to help them all along
It was definitely possible.
The brothers exchange glances, then Darren nods. “Come over here, Riah. Daniel, cuff them.”
Riah obeys while Daniel strides toward us. Charlene lifts her hands so that they’re behind her head.
I want to keep them talking. “You had the sniper shoot the guy’s vest because you can’t do it, can you? That’s why you need Riah. You can’t do it without her. But Arlington thinks you can, so—”
Darren cocks his head. “Who are you?”
“Jevin Banks, the magician.”
“Magician?”
My thoughts are racing. “What about Williamson? Is she involved, or were you just using her to help secure funding for Project Alpha?” Honestly, I’m not certain about any of these conclusions, but I’m not really trying to get them to admit anything. It’s all misdirection.
What I do best.
Daniel tells Charlene to turn around, put her hands behind her back. She does. When she lowers her hands from behind her head, I see that one of her earrings is missing.
I hold up my hands to show him that they’re empty.
But the right one is not.
When I stood up a few moments ago, I palmed something from my pocket.
The 1895 Morgan Dollar.
Sight lines. Darren hadn’t seen me do it.
It’s the only advantage I have.
And I’m going to use it.
The Trocar
Daniel handcuffs Charlene’s wrists behind her, then she turns her back to the wall and I know what she’s doing: using the earring she just palmed. I’d give her just under thirty seconds to get free. She’s not quite as fast as I am, but she definitely has skills.
He approaches me, and I turn and feel him click the cuff around my left wrist, but that’s when I make my move. I whip around and, in one motion, swipe the Morgan Dollar violently toward his right eye.
Based on how deeply it gouges in, I’m guessing there’ll be no using that eye again. I don’t care how tough you are, that was going to hurt.
He cries out and throws his hand to his face, and while he’s disoriented I grab his shoulders and tug him toward Charlene, positioning him in front of her to use as a human shield, but Darren is leveling the gun at us, and even with Daniel in the way, I have a feeling he might be able to pick off me or Charlene. He eyes down the barrel, but Riah throws herself against his arm, and when he fires, the bullet ricochets off the floor.
The other gun is on the counter.
Get it. Go!
I shove Daniel to the floor and rush at Darren, who tugs free from Riah. I have enough speed and connect with a front jump kick to his brachial plexus on the inside of his upper arm, whip my hand out, and manage to knock the gun away — sleight of hand, instinct — but he’s so quick he snags my leg in midair before I can retract it and whips me around, sending me crashing against one of the metal gurneys.