The man shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't know that was important to you. But you'd better get going. It's getting light outside. Give us half an hour. Then you can call the cops. Make up any cover story you want."
Reynolds never took her eyes off Connie. "Let me make up a cover story for you, Connie. It goes like this: We found the house. I go in the front while you cover the rear. I don't come out. You hear shots, you go in. Find us all dead." Reynolds's voice broke as she thought of her children, of never seeing them again. "You see someone leaving, empty your pistol at him. But you miss, give chase, are almost killed, but luckily barely survive. You call the cops. They get here. You call HQ, fill them in. They send people down. You get bitched at a little for coming down here with me, but you were just standing by your boss. Loyalty. Who could really blame you? They investigate and never reach a satisfactory answer. Probably think I'm the leak for sure, came down for a payoff. You can tell them it was my idea to come here, that I knew exactly where to go. I go in the house, get popped. And you, a poor innocent dupe, almost lose your life too. Case closed. How's that sound, Agent Constantinople?" She almost spat this last part out.
One of Thornhill's men looked over at Connie and smiled. "Sounds good to me."
Connie never took his eyes off Reynolds. "I'm sorry, Brooke, I really am."
Reynolds's eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked again when she spoke. "Tell Anne Newman that. Tell my kids that, you bastard!"
His eyes downcast, Connie moved past them and started to head down the stairs.
"We'll do them here, one by one," the first man said. He looked at Buchanan. "You first."
"I take it that was a special request from your boss," Buchanan said.
"Who? I want a name," Reynolds demanded.
"What does it matter?" the second man said. "It's not like you're going to be around to testify—"
The instant he said this, the bullet hit him in the back of the head.
The other man whirled, trying to aim his gun, but was too late and took a blast right in the face. He dropped, dead, next to his partner.
Connie came back up the stairs, a wisp of smoke still trailing from his pistol's muzzle. He looked down at the two dead men. "That was for Ken Newman, you assholes." He looked up at Reynolds. "I didn't know they were going to kill Ken, Brooke. I swear that on a stack of Bibles. But after it happened, there was nothing I could do but bide my time and see what happened."
"And let me chase a wild goose? Watch me get suspended. My career ruined."
"There wasn't much I could do about that. Like I said, my intent was to get you out of this, get you reinstated. Let you be the hero. Let Ken take the charge as snitch. He was dead, what did it matter?"
"It would matter to his family, Connie."
Connie's features turned angry. "Look, I don't have to stand here and explain shit to you or anybody else. I'm not proud of what I did, but I had my reasons. You don't have to agree with them, and I'm not asking you to, but don't stand there and lecture me about something you know nothing about, lady. You want'a talk pain and bitterness? I got about fifteen years of it on you."
Reynolds blinked and stepped back, eyeing the pistol. "Okay, Connie, you just saved our lives. That'll count for a lot."
"You think so, do you?"
She pulled out her cell phone. "I'm going to call Massey and get a team down here."
"Put the phone away, Brooke."
"Connie—"
"Put the damn phone down. Now!"
Reynolds let the phone drop to the floor. "Connie, it's over."
"It's never over, Brooke, you know that. Stuff that happened years ago will always come back to bite you in the ass. People find out stuff and look you up and suddenly your life is over."
"Is that why you're involved in this? Somebody was blackmailing you?"
He slowly gazed about. "What the hell does it matter?"
"It matters to me!" said Reynolds.
Connie let out a deep sigh. "When my wife got cancer, our insurance wouldn't cover all the specialized treatments. The doctors thought the treatments might give her a chance, a few more months. I mortgaged the house to the hilt. I cleaned out our bank accounts. It still wasn't enough. What was I supposed to do? Just let her die?" Connie angrily shook his head. "So some coke and other stuff turned up missing from the Bureau evidence room. Some people found out about it later. And suddenly I had a new employer." He paused and looked down for a moment. "And the most damnable thing is June died anyway."
"I can help you, Connie. You can end this right now."
Connie smiled grimly. "Nobody can help me, Brooke. I made my deal with the devil."
"Connie, let them go. It's over."
He shook his head. "I came here to do a job. And you know me well enough to know that I always finish what I start."
"Then what? How will you talk yourself out of these?" She looked at the two dead men. "And now you're going to kill three more people? That's crazy. Please."
"Not as crazy as giving up and spending the rest of my life in prison. Or maybe getting the chair." He shrugged his big shoulders. "I'll think of something."
"Please, Connie. Don't do this. You can't do this. I know you. You can't."
Connie looked at his pistol and then knelt down and picked up one of the dead men's guns that had a suppressor attached. "I've got to. And I am sorry, Brooke."
They all heard the click. Connie and Reynolds instantly recognized it as the cock of a semi-automatic pistol.
Lee barked, "Drop the pistol. Now! Or I put a tunnel in your head."
Connie froze and let the gun fall to the floor.
Lee came up the stairs and put the muzzle of his pistol against the agent's head. "I'm real tempted to shoot you anyway, but you did save me the trouble of tangling with two more gorillas." Lee looked at Reynolds. "Agent Reynolds, I'd appreciate if you'd pick up the pistol and keep it trained on your boy here."
Reynolds did so, her eyes burning into her partner's. "Sit down, Connie. Now!" she ordered.
Lee went over and put his arms around Faith.
"Lee," was all she said, leaning into him.
"Thank God I decided to come back."
"Can someone tell me what the hell this is all about?" Reynolds said.
Buchanan stepped forward. "I can, but it may not do any good. The proof I had was on that tape. I was planning on making copies, but I didn't have the chance to before I left Washington."
Reynolds looked down at Connie. "You obviously know what's going on. If you cooperate, it'll help your sentencing."
"I might as well strap myself in the chair," Connie said.
"Who? Dammit, who is behind this that everybody's so scared to death of?"
"Agent Reynolds," Buchanan said, "I'm sure that particular gentleman is waiting to hear the outcome of all this. If he doesn't get it soon, he'll send out more men. I suggest we stop that from happening."
Reynolds looked at him. "Why should I trust you? What I should do is call the cops."
Faith said, "The night Agent Newman was killed, I told him I wanted Danny to come in and testify with me. Newman told me that would never happen."
"Well, he told you right."
"But I think if you know all the facts, you won't think that way. What we did was wrong, but there was no other way. ..."
"Well, that makes it all perfectly clear," Reynolds replied.