Again Tess tugged at the carpet, at Professor Harding, hurrying backward toward Craig, toward the paths among the flowers.
She feared that any second a bullet would blow her head apart. Breathing harsher, deeper, she reached a path, kept tugging, yanked Professor Harding behind a section of flowers, and gasped when she saw that Priscilla was only halfway across the lawn.
A man appeared at the right of the house.
Tess aimed.
The man ducked behind the corner.
'Craig!' Tess yelled.
'I see him!'
'Cover me!'
Tess bolted forward, reached Priscilla, picked her up, grasping her shoulders, the back of her knees, and ran, bent over, collapsing behind the flowers, their fragrance in contrast with the stench of her fear.
Immediately she knelt, risked exposing her face, and aimed toward the left side of the house.
The lilies gave no protection from bullets, she knew.
But at least they obscured her from a killer's aim.
Sweat rolled off her brow. Her eyes stung. Her chest heaved.
She hurriedly squinted behind her in case another gunman was hidden among the flowers.
The man at the side of the house. Where the hell had he gone?
'Craig! Do you see him?'
'No!' Craig kept aiming.
Tess noticed that he'd dropped his revolver, which he must have emptied, and now held one of the pistols that he'd picked up inside the house.
Behind her, flowers whispered.
Again Tess whirled, squinting, her weapon ready.
Not quickly enough.
A man's arm thrust from the lilies, the rest of him hidden. His powerful thumb pressed a nerve at the back of her neck.
Agony!
Paralysis!
Wanting to scream, unable to, helpless, Tess watched her gun fall. Equally helpless, she felt the man squirm soundlessly from the flowers and press his weight over her onto the path. His thumb kept pressing the nerve on her neck.
With his other hand, he raised a silenced pistol and aimed toward Craig in the next row among the flowers.
Tess tried again to scream.
Impossible.
'Lieutenant!' The man dove as Craig whirled and fired.
'Lieutenant!' the man repeated. 'I'm going to show my head! I'm going to use your friend as a shield! If you're foolish enough to think that you can kill me, if you aim at me, I'll kill her.'
'Then I'll kill you!' Craig said.
'But your friend is more important. Pay attention, Lieutenant. Think.'
The only noise was the crackle of flames from the house.
'Lieutenant,' the man commanded, his grip still paralyzing Tess, his weight still upon her. 'You're about to see the head of your friend.'
Furious, Tess felt the man twist his grip on her neck and force her to raise her head while he kept his own head behind hers.
Craig made a tentative motion with his pistol.
'Lieutenant, don't do it,' the man said, calmly aiming his weapon. 'You're compromised. You can't possibly hit me. I don't intend to kill either of you. I assure you I'm a friend. But if you persist and attack me, I'll do what's necessary. Listen to reason. My team just saved your life.'
'What are you talking about?'
'We shot the remaining attackers. There isn't time to explain. I need your help.'
In the distance, sirens wailed.
'The authorities are on their way,' the man said, maintaining his calm, although his tone was paradoxically emphatic. 'We have to get out of here. I could have killed you. I didn't. That's a sign of good faith. Here's another sign of good faith.' The man shoved his pistol beneath his belt. He released his thumb from the nerve on Tess's throat.
The sirens wailed closer.
Abruptly Tess found she could move. Angry, she squirmed beneath the man's weight.
He stood.
She rolled away, her throat in pain, and fought to recontrol her muscles, lurching clumsily to her knees.
'I apologize,' the man said.
In the background, flames roared in the house. Smoke spewed.
'Who are you?' Tess rubbed her throat.
The man wore a dark sportcoat and slacks. He was in his early forties, solidly built, his hair a neutral brown, his face indistinctive, not handsome, not repulsive, the sort of common face she would never notice in a crowd.
'Your savior. Be grateful. And I repeat, I don't have time to explain. Those sirens. Will you cooperate?'
Tess darted an uncertain glance toward Craig.
'Sure.' Craig stared. 'Provided you give me your weapon.'
The stranger exhaled. 'All right, if that's what it takes.' He removed his pistol from his belt, engaged its safety mechanism, and extended it to Craig, who shoved it into a pocket of his suitcoat.
'What the hell, screw it.' Craig lowered his own weapon.
'Good. Very good,' the stranger said. 'Hurry.' He gestured, and almost by magic, equally neutral-faced, solidly built men emerged from the flowers and the side of the house, holding weapons.
There's a van in front.' The stranger cocked his head, assessing the intensity of the sirens. 'Let's go.'
'Priscilla and Professor Harding,' Tess said.
'We'll take them with us, of course.'
Again the stranger gestured. Two men raced from the flowers, lifting Priscilla and Professor Harding.
'She needs insulin,' Tess said, 'and her husband may have had a stroke.'
'It'll all be taken care of. You have my word.' The stranger pressed a hand against Tess's back. 'Move.'
As the sirens wailed closer, the group surged toward the right of the house.
Smoke wafted out of the study's window, obscuring Tess's gaze.
Then the smoke cleared, and she saw two bodies. She flinched and stared away, the front yard before her, trees and shrubs, a van looming.
'The Porsche!' Tess said. 'I got it a from a friend! She can't be involved!'
'Give me the key!'
Tess groped in her purse and threw it.
The stranger caught the key, tossed it to another man, and ordered him, 'Follow us!'
Tess and Craig scrambled into the van. Other men hurried inside with Priscilla and Richard, slamming the van's side hatch shut. A driver stomped the accelerator, squealing away from the curb.
Behind the van, the Porsche sped to follow. The two vehicles rounded a corner, disappearing from the street, just as Tess, bewildered, heard the approaching sirens wail toward the burning house, nearing it from a different direction.
'So, all right,' Craig said, hoarse. 'You claim you saved our lives. So we got away. So what do you want from us?'
The stranger peered backward from the passenger seat. 'Very simple.' He scowled. 'Your help. To eliminate the vermin.'
'What?'
'This isn't the time or place to discuss it,' the stranger said. 'Arrangements have to be made. Your friends need medical attention, and several of our associates have been-'
'Hold it,' Tess said, glancing toward the rear window. 'We're being followed. Behind the Porsche.'
'That UPS truck and the gray sedan?' The stranger nodded. 'They belong – or used to belong – to several of our associates. The vermin executed those two squads before attacking the house.'
'Executed?' Craig demanded.
The stranger ignored the interruption. 'We found the vehicles, the corpses inside them, a block apart as we arrived. The evidence indicates that nerve gas was used. Members of my own team now drive those vehicles. Security and honor insist. We must not abandon our dead. The corpses of our brave departed require the proper rites, honorable burial in consecrated ground. Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine.'
'Et lux perpetua luceat eis,' the other men added, somber, reverential.
Tess shook her head, confused, astonished. At first, she thought she was hearing gibberish. Then, abruptly, the realization startling her, she blurted, 'You're praying! In Latin?'
The stranger squinted. 'Do you understand what it means?'