"Jeez. Save it, will you?" But it warmed her, steadied her as she walked over to the 'link and put through the next transmission. "I got your meds, sir." She held up the bag. "Pain blockers, oral and bloodstream. The MT informs me that the syringe will clear up the infection, and take care of your headache fairly quickly."
She held her arms up, turned a slow circle. "I'm not carrying. I know you're in control. I just want to give you what you need to resolve this situation to your satisfaction."
"Damn skippy." He swiped at the blood leaking out of his nose again. He was rocking, rocking, back and forth on his heels as if to soothe away the pain. His sandy hair was standing in mad tufts where he'd yanked at it. Sweat and blood had soaked through the top of his cheery green jumpsuit.
"Come on in, Dallas." His mouth moved into a terrible grin as he levered his weapon under Feeney's jaw again. "I'm going to show you just what I need to resolve this situation to my satisfaction. Keep that 'link open."
He paused, hissed out a breath, then rammed the heel of his free hand against his eye. "Keep that visual so I can see you all the way to the door. Anybody tries to pass you a weapon, this old man is over. Keep your hands up, keep them up where I can see them."
He drilled the heel of his hand against his eye again, the other rolling wildly as he tried to focus on the screen. "My head!"
"I've got the medication to help you." Eve spoke calmly, slowly as she walked to Feeney's office door. On either side of it, just out of visual, were two crisis cops in full riot gear armed with lasers. "I need you to release the locks, sir."
"Anybody tries to rush that door, I take him out."
"I'm coming in alone. I'm not armed. I'm not carrying anything but the medication. You're in control here. Everyone knows you're in control."
"About damntime!" He released the locks, then shoved Feeney's head back, digging in with the business end of his weapon.
And now, Eve thought, if she was wrong, everybody died. She eased the door open, then lifting her hands high, nudged it the rest of the way with the toe of her boot.
"I'm alone, Captain Halloway," she said, stepped in, shut the door at her back.
She risked one fast glance at Feeney. She read the anger, the frustration on his face. And saw the bruises gathering underhis jaw where Halloway had rammed his weapon time after time.
"Put the bag down on the desk." Halloway licked his dry, cracked lips as she obeyed.
"Take a step back, hands behind your head."
"Yes, sir."
"Why are there two syringes?"
"Sir, the MT said that you might require a second dosage for full relief."
"Come around the desk slow."
She could hear him keening under his breath, like an animal beyond pain.
He couldn't be thirty yet, she thought. He couldn't be thirty and a few hours before Feeney had dressed him down for fighting virtual aliens.
Blood trickled slowly out of his nose. The left sleeve of his jumpsuit was red from wiping at it. She could smell his sweat, his blood, his fury pumping.
"How many times you have to bang this old bastard to make lieutenant?"
"Sir, Captain Feeney and I have not been intimate."
"Lying bitch." He swung out, backhanding her faster, harder than she'd anticipated. Off balance, she fell back into a chair. "How many times?"
"As many as it took. I lost count."
His head bobbed rapidly. "That's the way it works. Somebody's always screwing somebody so they can screw somebody else over."
"Everyone knows you've achieved your rank and position through your own merits."
"You got that. You fucking-A got that." He pawed a blue blocker out of the bag. "How do I know this isn't poison? Here." He shoved it into Feeney's mouth. "Swallow it! Swallow it or I do her." He swung the weapon toward Eve.
They were close, but not close enough for her to see if the pill had a thin yellow stripe. She waited, counting off the seconds as Feeney swallowed to see if she'd already lost the gamble.
But his eyes stayed clear. "Halloway." As did his voice. "Everybody here wants to resolve this. You need to tell us what you want so that everybody walks out."
"Shut up." He sliced his weapon down Feeney's cheek with casual violence. Then pawed another pill out of the bag, popped it in his mouth, chewed it like candy.
"Maybe those syringes are poison. Get one out, get one out." He chewed a second pill. "We'll have a little test."
"Yes, sir." She pretended to fumble a bit as she reached in the bag. "I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous." She took out the dummy. "Do you want me to administer this, sir, or would you prefer to do it yourself?"
"You go ahead and administer it. No," he said when she started to rise. "Sit right there. Pump it into yourself. You live through that, maybe you live a little longer."
She kept her eyes on his as she turned the syringe toward her arm, settled it, depressed the plunger.
"I followed your orders, sir. I'm sorry you're in pain. It's difficult to think clearly when in pain. I hope, after this medication alleviates your physical distress, we'll be able to resolve this situation to your satisfaction."
"You want to make captain, you're going to have to start banging me. I'm in charge now. Get up, get up! Give me the damn syringe. These pills areuseless. "
She stepped forward. There was blood in his ears now. She kept her eyes locked on his as she lifted the syringe. "This will work faster."
She set her thumb on the depressor.
"Poison!" He screamed it, jerked away. "Poison! My head's exploding. I'll kill you. Kill all of you."
She heard the rush at the door, pictured the sharpshooters taking aim. He was a cop, was all she could think as she leaped at him, deflecting his weapon an instant before the stream struck her.
She brought the syringe down on his shoulder and pumped the tranq into him.
"Hold your fire! Hold fire!" She shouted it as Halloway ran in circles around the room, screaming as he ripped at his hair. "I disarmed him. He's unarmed."
The door burst open. She leaped between Halloway and the lasers. "I said hold your goddamn fire."
She whirled around. It was taking longer than five seconds. Halloway was throwing himself against the wall. Shrieking, weeping. Then his body danced, as bodies do when a stream takes them down.
Blood fountained from his nose as he pitched forward.
"Get medical in here," Eve ordered as she rushed over to kneel beside Halloway.
She'd seen death too often to mistake it. But still she checked his pulse.
"Damn it. Damn it." She beat a clenched fist against her knee, looked over to meet the knowledge in Feeney's eyes. "We lost him anyway."
CHAPTER FIVE
"He really caught you a good one." Eve crouched down to where Feeney sat under the ministrations of a medtech. She pursed her lips as she examined the long, shallow gash that scored his cheek. "Been a while since you took one in the face, huh?"
"I don't stick my nose in the knothole as often as other people. You and me, we're going to go a round, Dallas. I taught you better than that. Adding a hostage-"
"Do I look like a hostage? I don't recall getting locked to my desk chair with my own restraints lately."
Feeney sighed. "Dumb luck that worked. And dumb luck-"
"Is a nice bonus to solid police work. Somebody told me that once." She smiled at him, laid a hand over his. Under her touch, his hand turned so their fingers linked.
"Don't think I owe you one. Not for dumb luck. And you make sure your man knows that-ah-business about banging and whatnot was just smoke."
"I know he's seething with a black jealousy and planning on whomping on you, but I'll do what I can to calm him down."
He nodded, but his grin faded as he looked away. "Caught us with our pants down, Dallas. Pants down around our goddamn ankles. I never saw it coming."
"You couldn't have. Couldn't have," she repeated quickly before he could speak. "He was sick, Feeney. Some virus, some infection. I don't know what the hell. Morris is working on it. It's the same deal that happened to the guy Trueheart took out. It's in the computer. It's got to be in the computer."