Last to Die (38 page)

“Now I
know
something’s wrong,” said Jane. She turned toward the building.

Carole instantly blocked her way. “Get back in your vehicle, Detective.”

“My friend is in there. I’m going in.”

“I don’t think so.” Carole raised her gun. “Take their weapons.”

“
Whoa!
” said Frost as Denzel forced him and Jane to their knees. “Can we all bring this down a notch?”

“You know what to do with them,” Carole snapped to Denzel. “If I need you inside, I’ll be on com.”

Jane looked up as Carole and the man with the shaved head strode off toward the building. “Lady, you are
so
fucked!” she yelled.

“Like she cares,” Denzel laughed. He planted his foot against the small of her back and gave her a push. Jane landed facedown onto the cobblestones. He yanked her hands behind her back, and she felt plastic zip-cuffs suddenly bite into her wrists.

“Asshole,” she spat out.

“Awww. Say more sweet things to me.” He moved on to Frost, securing his wrists with startling efficiency.

“Is this how you guys always operate?” she said.

“It’s how
she
operates. The Ice Queen.”

“And you don’t have a problem with that?”

“Gets the job done. Everybody’s happy.” He straightened and paced a few steps away as he said into his com unit, “All secure out here. Yes, I copy. Just tell me when.”

Jane rolled onto her side to look at the building, but Carole and the other man had already vanished inside. Now they were roaming those dark halls, adrenaline pumping, instincts primed to fire at any shadow. This mission wasn’t about saving lives; the children were merely pawns in a war waged by a woman with one objective in mind. A woman with ice in her veins.

Denzel’s footsteps moved back toward her, and she looked up to see him standing just above. Silhouetted by the starry sky, his weapon appeared to be an extension of his hand, a black wand of death. She thought of what Carole had said to him,
You know what to do
, and those words suddenly held a new and frightening meaning. Then Denzel took another step, away from her. He wasn’t looking at her at all. His head swiveled left, then right, searching the darkness, and she heard him whisper: “What the hell?”

Something whistled in the wind, like a knife slitting through silk.

Denzel toppled across her chest, landing so hard that the air rushed from her lungs. Crushed by his weight, she struggled to take a breath. Felt his body twitching in its death throes as something warm and wet soaked through her blouse. She heard Frost yelling her name, but she could not move under that deadweight, could do nothing but stare as footsteps approached. Slow, deliberate.

She looked up at the night sky. At stars, so many stars. The Milky Way was more brilliant than she’d ever seen it before.

The footsteps halted. A man towered above her, eyes glowing in a face smeared with black. She knew what would happen next. Denzel’s body, dripping blood onto hers, told her all she needed to know.

Icarus is here
.

IT WAS THE
dog who alerted them. Through the door of their cell, Claire heard Bear start to howl again, loud enough to echo through the wine cellar and funnel up the stairs. She did not know what had set him off. Maybe he understood that their time had run out, that Death was even now making His way down the steps to claim them.

“He’s coming back,” Claire said.

In that airless room, she could smell the fear, sharp and electric, the scent of animals awaiting slaughter. Will pressed closer to her, his flesh moist with sweat. He had finally worked the tape off his mouth, and now he leaned in and whispered to her:

“Get behind me and stay down, Claire. Whatever happens, just play dead.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you know why?” He looked at her, and even though this was the same chubby, spotty Will she knew so well, she saw something new in his eyes, something she hadn’t noticed before. It was
shining
there so brightly it could not be missed. “I won’t get another chance to say this,” he whispered. “But I want you to know that …”

The padlock clanged. They both froze as the door squealed open and they saw the barrel of a gun, clutched in gloved hands. The weapon swept an arc around the room, as though seeking a target, and not finding it.

A man with a shaved head stepped into the room and called out, “He’s not in here! But the others are.”

Now a woman entered, sleek and graceful, her hair hidden under a watch cap. “That dog had to be howling at something down here,” she said. They stood side by side, two invaders clad all in black, surveying the room of bound prisoners. The woman’s gaze fell on Claire, and she said: “We’ve met before. Do you remember, Claire?”

Staring up at the woman, Claire suddenly thought of headlights rushing toward her. Remembered the night turning upside down and the sound of shattering glass and gunshots. And she remembered the guardian angel who had magically appeared to pull her from that ruined car.

Take my hand, Claire. If you want to live
.

The woman turned to Will, who was staring openmouthed. “And we’ve met, too, Will.”

“You were there,” he murmured. “You’re the one …”

“Someone had to save you.” She pulled out a knife. “Now I need to know where that man is.” She held up the blade, as though offering it as a reward for their cooperation.

“Cut me free,” snapped Sansone, “and I’ll help you take him down.”

“Sorry, but this game’s not for civilians,” the woman said. She looked around at the faces. “What about Teddy? Does anyone know where he is?”

“Screw Teddy,” said Claire. “He’s a traitor. He led us into this trap.”

“Teddy doesn’t know what he’s doing,” the woman said. “He’s been lied to, corrupted. Help me save him.”

“He won’t come out. He’s hiding.”

“Do you know where?”

“On the roof,” said Claire. “That’s where he’s supposed to wait.”

The woman glanced at her partner. “Then we’ll have to go up and get him.” Instead of freeing Sansone, the woman knelt down behind Claire and sliced her bonds. “You can help us, Claire.”

With a gasp of relief, Claire rubbed her wrists, felt the welcome rush of blood into her hands. “How?”

“You’re his classmate. He’ll listen to you.”

“He won’t listen to any of us,” said Will. “He’s helping that man.”

“
That man
,” the woman said, turning to Will, “is here to kill you. To kill all of us. I’ve spent three years trying to catch him.” She looked at Claire. “How do we get to the roof?”

“There’s a door. In the turret.”

“Take us there.” The woman yanked Claire to her feet.

“What about them?” Claire said, pointing to the others.

The woman tossed the knife on the floor. “They can cut themselves free. But they have to stay here. It’s safer.”

“What?” Claire protested as the woman pulled her out of the room.

“I can’t have them getting in the way.” The woman swung the door shut.

Inside the room, Sansone was cursing, shouting. “
Open the door!
”

“It’s not right,” insisted Claire. “Leaving them all locked up.”

“It’s what I need to do. It’s best for them, best for everyone. Including Teddy.”

“I don’t care about Teddy.”

“But I do.” The woman gave Claire a hard shake. “Now take us to the turret.”

They climbed out of the wine cellar into the kitchen, where Bear was barking again, looking pitiful and half strangled as he struggled to free himself from the leash. Claire wanted to untie him, but the woman dragged her away toward the servants’ stairway. The man took the lead, his gaze constantly sweeping the steps above them as he climbed. Never had Claire known people who could move as quietly as these two. They were like cats, their footsteps silent, their eyes always moving. Sandwiched between them, Claire had no view forward or backward, so she focused on the steps, on moving as soundlessly as this man and woman. They were some kind of secret agents, she thought, here to save them. Even to save Teddy, the traitor. She’d had a lot of time to think about it while sitting in that room with her hands bound, listening to the cook’s whimpers, to Dr. Pasquantonio’s nasal whistles as he breathed. She’d thought about all the clues she’d missed. How Teddy never let anyone see his computer screen, but always hit
ESCAPE
as soon as she walked in the room. He was sending the man messages, she thought. All this time, he’d been helping the man who’d come to kill them.

She just didn’t know why.

They were on the third floor now. The man paused and glanced back at Claire for guidance.

“There,” she whispered, pointing to the spiral staircase that led to the turret. To Dr. Welliver’s office.

He moved up the stone steps, and Claire crept up behind him. The stairs were steep here, and all she could see of him was the back of his hips and the commando knife dangling from his belt. It was so quiet she could hear the soft rasp of their clothes as they moved step by step.

The door to the turret was ajar.

The man gave it a nudge and reached in to flick on the light switch. They saw Dr. Welliver’s desk, her filing cabinet. The sofa with the flowery upholstery and the plump cushions. It was a room Claire knew well. How many hours had she sat on that very sofa, telling Welliver about her sleepless nights, her headaches, her
nightmares
? In this room that smelled of incense, decorated in soft pastels and magic crystals, Claire had felt safe enough to reveal secrets. And Dr. Welliver had listened patiently, nodding her head of frizzy silver hair, a cup of herbal tea always beside her.

Claire stood near the door as the man and woman quickly searched the office and the adjoining bathroom. They checked behind the desk, opened the closet. No Teddy.

The woman turned to the door that led outside, to the roof walk. The same door Welliver had exited to take her fatal plunge. As the woman stepped outside, the summer wind blew in, warm and sweet with the scent of pine trees. Claire heard running footsteps, then a cry. Seconds later the woman came back in, dragging Teddy by his shirt, and the boy sprawled onto the floor.

Teddy looked up at Claire. “You told them! You ratted me out.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Claire shot back. “After what you did to us.”

“You don’t understand who these people are!”

“I know what
you
are, Teddy Clock.” Claire aimed a kick at him, but the woman grabbed her shoulder and dragged her into the corner. “Stay there,” she commanded, then turned to Teddy. “Where is he?”

Teddy folded himself into a ball and shook his head.

“What’s his plan? Tell me, Teddy.”

“I don’t know,” the boy moaned.

“Of course you do. You know him better than anyone. Just tell me, and everything will be fine.”

“You’ll kill him. That’s why you’re here.”

“And you don’t like to see people killed. Do you?”

“No,” Teddy whispered.

“Then you wouldn’t want to see this, either.” The woman spun around and pressed her gun to Claire’s forehead. Claire froze, too shocked to say a word. Teddy was stunned just as silent, his eyes wide in horror.

“Tell me, Teddy,” the woman said. “Or I’ll just have to splatter your friend’s brains all over this nice sofa.”

The woman’s partner looked just as shocked by this turn of events. “What the fuck are you doing, Justine?”

“Trying to get some cooperation here. So, Teddy, what do you think? Do you want to see your friend die?”

“I don’t know where he is!”

“I’ll count to three.” The gun dug deeper into Claire’s forehead. “One …”

“Why are you doing this?” Claire cried. “You’re supposed to be the
good guys
!”

“Two.”

“You said you were here to help us!”

“Three.” The woman lifted the weapon and fired into the wall, sending a drizzle of plaster onto Claire’s head. With a snort of disgust, the woman turned back to Teddy.

At once Claire scrambled away and dropped down behind the desk, trembling.
Why is this happening? Why have they turned against us?

“Since that didn’t work,” the woman said. “Maybe you really don’t know where he is. So we go to plan B.” She grabbed Teddy’s arm and dragged him toward the roof walk.

Her partner said, “This is fucked up. These are just kids.”

“It needs to be done.”

“We came for Icarus.”

“Our
target
is whoever I say it is.” She yanked off Teddy’s communications headset and dragged him out the door, onto the exposed roof walk. “Now we dangle some bait,” she said, and swung him over the railing.

Teddy screamed, frantically scrambling for a toehold on the steep slate roof. All that kept him from plummeting to his death was the woman, gripping his arm.

She spoke into the boy’s headset. “No, this isn’t Teddy talking to you. Guess who I’ve got hanging off the roof? Such a sweet boy, too. All I have to do is let go, and he’ll be nothing but a stain on the ground.”

“The kid’s not part of this,” her partner protested.