No Test for the Wicked: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Five (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

When I was
really
in high school, long before I had learned the important difference between hacking and cracking, I sometimes dreamt about the day when I would rule the world with my computer. I could go
where
I wanted,
when
I wanted, with no fear of retribution or capture. In all of those dreams, I sat safely behind a computer and worked my magic. At no time did my dreams involve actual physical contact or interaction with people, including terrorists who wielded bombs and guns. My world domination did not involve physical pain, threat of immediate death, torture of any kind or severe emotional distress.

Unfortunately, right now, my dreams were sheer fantasy. I had to deal in reality. So, while I sat contemplating the horrors of my real life in Mr. Jouret’s chair, Brandon was throwing up in the corner. Piper patted his back and murmured comforting words. He was a kid and he’d just killed a man, albeit it with my help, but I couldn’t drudge up a single word to help him. I knew firsthand how it felt—the shock and horror—but at this moment, I didn’t have it in me to summon the emotional strength to try and console him. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away. I wanted to scream. Every part of my body hurt and I was at the end of my rope.

Jouret lay dead on the floor just meters from my feet. I’d just participated in the death of a teacher, even if it was in self-defense. We were still trapped in a high school filled with bombs and deranged terrorists.

What in the hell had I been thinking? Sure, Lexi, go back to high school. You’ll have a lock on it this time around. You’re a mature, capable and confident woman. You’ve got this.

Jeez.

I couldn’t believe it was possible, but high school was
definitely
worse the second time around.

Elvis kept his hand on my shoulder, talking to me and trying to anchor me to reality. I couldn’t focus on his words so I had no idea what he was saying. My brain, in an attempt at self-preservation, had shut down. Finally, he turned my chair toward him and snapped his fingers.

“Lexi. Are you okay?”

I thought of my mom and dad, my brothers, Finn and Slash. I imagined the terrified kids and staff in the cafeteria and X, who was probably waiting for an update from Jouret. Everyone was counting on me, but especially Elvis. Elvis had always been there for me. Now I needed to be there for him.

For everyone.

Time to pull myself together.

I wiped a hand across my eyes. “I’m okay, Elvis. I just needed a minute.”

He searched my face, a lock of brown hair falling over one of his eyes. “I understand. You look terrible. That must have been one heck of a fight.” He let go of my shoulders and pressed a warm bottle of water into my hands. “Here, drink this.”

I glanced up in surprise. “Where did you get it?”

“Inside Jouret’s desk. Go ahead. Take a drink.”

I unscrewed the top and took several long sips. Elvis took a tissue and wet it with a couple of drops of the water and dabbed at my mouth and cheeks.

“He got you good. Bastard.”

“We got him better.”

He gave me a wry look. “One of the things I like best about you—a serious competitive edge.”

It made me smile a little, but my lip hurt for it. I handed him the water. “You take a drink, too, Elvis. How long has it been since we had some water?”

“Too long.”

He took a few gulps and then tossed Piper the bottle. She caught it, took a drink and handed it to Brandon.

Elvis returned to me. “So, are you really good?”

“Good isn’t the word that leaps to mind, but I’ll survive. My head hurts, but let’s do this anyway.”

“Okay.” He picked up a pencil and a piece of paper. “Let’s examine the data we have accumulated. What do we know so far?”

I quickly brought him up to speed on what I’d discovered on Jouret’s computer. He listened without interrupting once, taking a few notes. When I finished he paced back and forth.

“Okay, that fits with what I’ve been thinking. I have a theory, Lexi. I think we may have been onto something when we were reading about the situation in Pakistan. The more I think about it, the more I think these terrorists might be either
Shahid
-approved or a splinter of the group.”

“But for what purpose? And why are they in the U.S.? This is a Pakistani government matter. The U.S. isn’t even involved, at least according to the State Department.”

“But think about it. What if we
were
involved? Secretly.”

I considered. If the U.S. were involved in secret negotiations with the Pakistani government in an effort to bring the warring factions together, it could cause dissension among those who were either not invited to the table or were threatened by peace.

“Operation Dove. My God. That could be it. Those two senators, Herman and Walters, I wonder if they are on some kind of intelligence committee.”

Elvis paused. “That’s a very strong possibility. That would certainly be the way to go if the terrorists want information to either disrupt or disband the negotiations.”

I stroked my chin, mulled over that possibility. “Right. Because what’s the fastest way to bring an end to secret negotiations?”

“Make them public.”

“Exactly.”

Elvis ran his fingers through his hair. He looked utterly exhausted with beard stubble on his chin and bloodshot eyes. I was sure I looked a thousand times worse. I desperately wished for a couple of ibuprofen and some water. I needed a clearer focus and the pain was interfering with that.

I patted my sore lip. It was swollen and felt funny. I ignored it. “Okay. That makes sense on the terrorist side. But what’s in it for Jouret? He’s from South Africa and from what I can see has no dog in this fight. So, how do the Veiled Knights factor into this, if at all?”

Elvis shook his head. “I don’t know. But I think the bottom line has to be money. It’s
always
about money for mercenaries like Broodryk. Look, I’m not sure how much more time we have to discuss this. They are going to be looking for Jouret soon. If he’s their only tech guy on the team in the school here, they’re going to be in big trouble.”

My brain went on overdrive, sorting, considering and weighing the options and dangers. Elvis must have thought I’d zoned because he leaned over me again. “Lexi, are you okay?”

“Yes.” I blinked and nodded. “I know what we have to do, Elvis. I think I have Plan B. It’s super risky, but it may work.”

“Spill.”

“Well, first we need to get Jouret out of here. Drag his body to the stairwell. Make it look like he fell down the stairs or something. I think we’re all in agreement they can’t find him in here. We need to be able to work in here on his computer. Jouret didn’t realize he was still logged in here until he saw me. Maybe the others haven’t either. It’s our only chance.”

Piper and Brandon were now listening from across the room, staring at me as if I’d come from another planet. Maybe I had, but maybe an alien brain was what we needed right now. I waved them closer so I could keep my voice down.

Elvis knelt next to me. “I don’t think the terrorists would buy the idea that Jouret slipped going down the stairs.”

“Probably not. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we can’t leave the body in here and we can’t hide him in a place where they couldn’t find it easily. They’d tear the school apart looking for him and they might find us. We only need them to find the body somewhere other than here.”

Elvis frowned. “They’re going to go crazy looking for whoever did it and possibly retaliate.”

“Possibly. No doubt that once they find his body, they’ll do another sweep of the school. But they have no reason to do more than a cursory look here. That’s why you will stay here and hide.”

Elvis looked around the office. “Here? Where?”

I pointed to the heating and air-conditioning grill hidden partially behind one of the bookshelves. “There. It was a good hiding place for Brandon and Piper in the Chem Lab. It should work here, too.”

I saw a flicker in Brandon’s eyes. There was life after all behind the zombie facade that had come over him after killing Jouret.

I held out a hand to him. “Give me the knife.”

Instead, Brandon walked past me. He knelt down in front of the grate, pushed the bookshelf out slightly. He removed his knife, then unscrewed the grill. He stuck his head inside. “Plenty of room to hide.”

“Good.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to subdue the pounding headache. “You’ll hide in there and wait until the terrorists finish what will presumably be a second sweep of the school. At some point they’re going to have to accept it was a freak accident or realize they don’t have the time or resources to hunt down whoever did it. I think they’re on a schedule of some kind. Then as soon as it’s safe, you guys get back out here and get to work. Hopefully no one will realize Jouret’s account is still active from his office. Brandon or Piper, it will be your job to get Elvis into the security system side of things. Elvis, these two created a secret bridge between the three systems. No one will know about it. With the bridge, Elvis should be able to establish careful albeit limited communication with the police.”

Elvis didn’t speak, but I knew by the way he was looking at me, his mind was racing ahead with mine, trying to figure out where I was going with this.

Brandon lurched to his feet. “Fine, except where exactly will
you
be during all of this?”

I tried to sound confident. “I’m going to be the one getting rid of the body.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Piper gasped. “What? You’re going to get rid of the body? That’s crazy. They’ll kill you.”

“Yes, they might, if they catch me. But I have to risk it.”

Brandon frowned. “Why does it have to be you? Why not him?” He jerked his head toward Elvis.

“For two reasons. First, Elvis can’t go because he’s not on any list of students, staff or visitors. He’s not even supposed to be here, which makes him highly suspect. They may think he’s from the police, kill him and then start executing students. We can’t risk that. Second, Elvis is a pro at systems. I may be good, but I assure you, Elvis is on a higher level than most of the police cyber team out there. Add to the fact that we’ve actually got him on the
inside
of the system, and we have a fighting chance. But only if we protect him.”

Elvis closed his eyes. He agreed with me, even if he didn’t want to. The expression on his face was killing me, so I looked away and forced myself to continue.

Brandon straightened. “Forget it. I killed Jouret. I’ll dump the body.”

“No!” Piper clutched his arm.

I wished I could wave a magic wand and make it all better, but I couldn’t, so I forged ahead. “First of all,
we
killed him, and it would have been him or us. It’s called self-defense and/or self-preservation. Take your pick. Secondly, I need to ask an important question. Our lives may depend on the answer, so I need the truth. Brandon and Piper, which of you actually wrote the initial code for the bridge?”

They both looked at me with mouths agape.

Brandon spoke first. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just answer it. Which one of you is the author?”

Piper looked at me in puzzlement. “Why does it matter? We both created it. We both know how to work the bridge.”

“I know. But in this particular situation, we have to expect that the unexpected might happen. Elvis might need to make a split-second decision and will require instantaneous assistance. Trust me, every second will matter, so I need to know who was the original author. The code will be intuitive to that person. I know both of you understand what I mean.”

The two of them exchanged a glance, and then Brandon swept his hand out toward Piper. “She’s the original brains behind the bridge.”

Piper put a hand on his arm. “That’s not true. Brandon is an excellent coder. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

I sighed. “I don’t doubt that. But it does mean that you, Brandon, win the lottery. You’ll help me drag the body to the stairwell. And...and I’m sorry. Neither one of us can come back here directly. Once we dump the body, we have to go elsewhere. We can’t risk leading the terrorists back here to Jouret’s office...to Piper and Elvis. When the terrorists come here—and they will—I want them to do nothing more than a superficial search of this place. After all, his office is locked and secured. But they’d do a much more thorough search if they caught either of us purposefully returning here.”

Piper gasped at the implication. “No.”

Brandon closed his eyes. “Damn, this is turning out to be my lucky day.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t make it back here. We’ll both try, but it’s imperative that we wait until well after the sweep. The code on the door will be three short knocks, a pause and two more knocks. Elvis, Piper, don’t open the door unless you hear the code. Okay?”

“No.” Horror reflected in Piper’s eyes. “I won’t do it. It’s insane. I don’t agree.”

I felt like the Wicked Witch of the West, but I had to be strong. “We don’t have time to form a committee or vote, Piper. This is not a democracy. Time is not working in our favor. I believe these terrorists intend to blow this place. Go down with the ship. They have no intention of surrendering. We
have
to circumvent that—to save dozens of lives. To do that, we have to figure out a way to let the security forces in. You have to trust me when I say that Elvis is a master. He is our best chance of getting out alive. Brandon and I will try to make our way back, okay? But it’s the only way.”

She started crying and Brandon put an arm around her shoulder. “Hey, Pip, it’s okay. Lara...Lexi is right. I’ve got to do this and so do you.”

I ignored the pain in my side and face and glanced at my watch. “Where’s Jouret’s gun?”

Elvis walked over the desk, picked up the gun, opened the chamber and checked the bullets. He closed it with a slam against his palm and tucked it into his waistband. “It’s mine now.”

I watched him in surprise. “You know how to use a gun?”

“I’ve only had two classes, but it will have to do.”

“You’re...taking classes?”

“Well, knowing how to use a weapon has seemed a necessary life skill lately, so I’ve been bringing myself up to speed. Better late than never, I guess.”

I tried to remember what I’d been saying. “Ah, okay. Piper, you and Elvis need to get into the vent. We’ll slide the bookshelf in front of it. When they are gone, you need to show Elvis how to access the bridge. Brandon and I will hide elsewhere until we feel it’s safe to try to get back here. Okay?”

Piper put her face in her hands, but Brandon nudged her hands away and lifted her chin. “Do it, Pip. For me. Okay?”

She nodded, tears spilling from her eyes. During the entire conversation, Elvis said nothing but never took his eyes off me. I swallowed hard and continued.

“Just remember Elvis will be our critical link to the outside. His safety is vital. Piper, help him. Trust his methods and do what he says when he says it.”

Brandon shoved his hands in his jeans. “Stick it to these guys, Pip. I mean it. Brains over bombs. Be my girl. I’ll do my best to stay alive.”

Piper started sobbing. Since I couldn’t confirm he would come out of this alive, or that I would either, I didn’t say anything that might have comforted her.

Piper threw her arms around Brandon and he held her tight. I turned away, giving them a small illusion of privacy.

Feeling like I’d just sentenced someone to death—and maybe I had—I bent over Jouret’s body and steeled myself to grab his arms. I stopped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up. Elvis stood there, his eyes filled with determination and something else.

I straightened. “Elvis, please don’t try to talk me out of this.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

He frowned. “Do you want me to?”

“No. It’s just...you haven’t said much.”

“I was thinking, processing and looking for holes. I thought you knew that.”

“I figured.”

“Then you know my silence means I believe your plan is solid, despite its hasty conception. If I thought it were reckless or without merit, I’d stop you, no question.”

“But earlier in the cabinet...”

He sighed. “Okay, look, I admit my knee-jerk, guy reaction is to protest. Do, I want to protect you? Of course, I do. I’d like to tell you that everything will be fine. But we’ve just been over this, so, what’s the point? However, for the record, I really, really hate this plan. I hate being separated from you and losing control of this situation. But it’s the right call, Lexi, because this isn’t about you, me, us, our egos, our feelings or anything else. There are hundreds of scared kids out there who are depending on us. I know what I have to do and so do you. As much as I hate it, it’s our best chance and I know it. Okay?”

I let out a breath. He
got
it. Just like that, he
got
it. I had never been so grateful to have him here at this very moment in time.

“Thank you, Elvis. I’m sorry that coming here put your life in such danger, but on a purely selfish note, I’m really,
really
glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m with you, too. I mean that. I’m not going to fail.”

“I never thought you would.”

“Good. Just remember we’re a team—a damn formidable one. Once I’m in the security system, we’ve got a fighting chance. No matter what tricks these guys may have up their electronic sleeves, I’m in my element once I’m in. Just hang in there. Hide and stay alive. Okay? I’ve got the rest of this for us.”

A lump formed in my throat. “Okay.”

He touched my good cheek. “We’re going to save those kids and each other.”

I appreciated the conviction behind his words. “Yes, we will.”

He pulled me toward him and I hugged him, resting my chin on his shoulder, listening to his steady breath.

“Lexi, thanks for being the best friend I’ve ever had aside from Xavier. Being an identical twin doesn’t always make it easy to find friends outside of each other.”

“I understand, and right back at you. I’ve been pretty lucky in the friend department, too.”

Brandon walked past us, heading to the vent. “It’s showtime, guys.”

He looked awful with a purple knot on his forehead, caked blood on his mouth and nostrils and a wide bruise on his jaw that stretched across his cheek. But he was functioning and he deserved a lot of credit for that.

Elvis nodded, gave me a last hug and with a final look over his shoulder at me, climbed into the vent. Piper, with tears still streaming down her face, climbed in after him. Brandon pushed the grill shut without fastening it. Together we slid the bookshelf in front of the vent.

“The bookshelf isn’t that heavy,” Brandon instructed them. “When you are ready to come out, one good push should slide the bookshelf outward enough to give you room to slide out. Just don’t push too hard and knock it over. That’s likely to get you unwelcome company.”

“Got it,” Elvis replied. “We’ll do our part. You just do yours. Good luck.”

Brandon picked up Jouret’s feet and motioned for me to take his arms. “Thanks. We’re definitely going to need it.”

For a kid, he was handling everything a lot better than I expected. Brandon Steppe had some serious grit. I grabbed Jouret’s arms. We dragged the body to the door and listened. I thought about Elvis, just steps away, and was reassured by his words.

I’ve always got your back.

He always had. Somehow I knew that would be an absolute certainty in my life.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart and searching for the mental techniques I’d learned in yoga. Focus on the here and now. All other matters had to be stored in the back of my brain. Breathe in, breathe out. Imagine yourself floating weightless on a cloud...

I opened my eyes and saw Brandon staring at me.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

“I just realized you look really familiar. Have you ever been on television?”

“Jeez.”

I heard the noise first. I held up a hand, shushing him. The footsteps were steady and regular. No running or rushing in panic. No alarm had been sounded...yet. The footsteps passed and faded into silence.

I looked at Brandon and whispered, “You ready?”

He exhaled a breath. “Do I have a choice? Let’s get this show on the road.”