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The loud report of a gun, close by me, brought me back to awareness. As I opened my eyes, I saw Franz fall to the floor, a revolver in his grasp. He’d shot himself rather than wait for Helmann to do it.

I slipped under, losing consciousness as I heard one last thing: Helmann, murmuring beside me.

“What a pity,” he said.

Chapter Forty–One

FIRE IN MY BONES

·
SAM
·

While Helmann dealt with Franz, I watched Christian’s face carefully. After he’d managed to speak those few words to Helmann, Christian’s color had changed. All I could think of was how alive Christian had been this morning as we raced to the
château
and how his skin looked like Deuxième’s now, just before he’d died, and how badly it would hurt Sir Walter to lose his only son. I rippled solid. I heard Sir Walter groan softly, seeing me. But I couldn’t allow Christian to bleed to death.

Pulling the narrow scarf I wore from my neck, I used it to form a lumpy bandage and pressed it upon Christian’s wound. Could I stop the bleeding in time?

“But, my dear Samantha,” whispered Helmann, “How unexpectedly wonderful to see you.”

Ignoring him, I tried to remember everything I could from First Aid class that Sylvia made me take years ago.

“Allow me to assist you,” said Helmann. His voice was soft as velvet.

“Stay away,” I warned. Obviously I had no way to enforce my order; I wasn’t the one with the gun.

“I am a licensed physician, my dear,” continued Helmann. “Or I was, at one time. How the centuries rush past. Will you not allow me to save the life of my nephew?”

“Allow him to help,” said Sir Walter.

I caught another
unspoken
message loud and clear:
Remove yourself from Helmann’s reach!
I stood, backing away.

Ree–pill now!
called Sir Walter.

I shook my head slowly.
Hans thought shooting people was a good way to make ripplers reappear,
I said to Sir Walter.
Helmann would think of it, too
. I had to work this out some other way.

Helmann stood, having created a tourniquet from my scarf. Christian’s color actually looked better.

“Well, well, well,” said Helmann. “What an excellent thing it is to gather one’s family together.” He brought the corners of his mouth up in a self–satisfied smile.

“I know what you want, and I’m not discussing it with you until you let my friends go,” I said. I really wasn’t sure how that was going to happen, seeing as how Christian had been shot, Gwyn was so full of drugs she’d slept through gunfire, and neither Will nor Sir Walter could ripple.

At that moment, bringing a bound and gagged Mickie with him, another person rippled into the room. Someone I’d never seen before, with graying blond hair and eyes like dark spots on his pale face.

“Pfeffer!” called Sir Walter.

I didn’t understand.

Pfeffer lives, but he has betrayed us,
said Sir Walter to me.

Mickie, being held forcibly by Pfeffer, looked angry enough to bite her way through the gag over her mouth.

“Ah, my dear son,” said Helmann. “Hmmm, and the last of your generation as well.” He then described to Pfeffer the demise of Hans and his brother. “They thought their father blind to their … indiscretions.”

If Pfeffer felt shock, he betrayed none of it. He dipped his head slightly to Helmann, and it reminded me of one of Sir Walter’s little bows.

“And it appears you have retrieved the other, ah, guest?” asked Helmann. “Place her with the sleeping one.” He gestured to the couch where Gwyn lay.

Pfeffer led Mickie, snarling, to take a seat. She looked alarmed upon noticing me, solid, on the other side of the room.

“Thank you, my dear son,” said Helmann. “I have two additional tasks for you. First, I must insist that you say a
final
farewell to your uncle Waldhart.”

Pfeffer nodded and crossed to Sir Walter’s side, injecting him with a syringe. The old gentleman slumped softly forward to rest, face down, upon the table.

I gasped, running to his side. Taking one hand, I checked for a pulse. I felt it: faint, but definitely still there.

“This is Miss Samantha Ruiz,” said Helmann, indicating me to Pfeffer. “For your second task, please be so good as to
greet
her.”

I didn’t see the needle coming until it was too late. And then, stranger still, I didn’t feel it. I must have been too full of adrenaline to feel anything.

Throwing the used needle beneath the table, Pfeffer took Sir Walter’s hand from me, checking for a pulse.

“My uncle is gone,” he said to Helmann.

My heart began racing double–time. “No,” I moaned. I tore Sir Walter’s hand from Pfeffer’s. Cradling the ancient hand in both of mine, I brought it to rest against my cheek. Moisture blurred my vision. I blinked hard. I wouldn’t let myself cry in front of Helmann.

Helmann cleared his throat, addressing Pfeffer. “We were just discussing Miss Ruiz’s cooperation with my little plan.”

“I never said I was cooperating. I said let my friends go and we’ll talk.”

“Let me see if I can make this clearer.” Helmann reached into a pocket and pulled out the revolver again. “You really don’t have a choice in the matter.”

His smile as he approached me was wild, dangerous. Placing the weapon at my temple, he spoke softly. “I can obtain what I desire from you whether you live or die, my dear.”

I felt his breath upon my face.

“But one way or another, I will have your obedience,” he whispered.

“I think you’ve got me confused with someone else,” I replied.

I looked into his eyes, defying him with every cell of my being.

“Kill me,” I said. “There are worse things than dying.”

Helmann’s expression changed. The tight angry lines around his mouth relaxed, the furrow between his eyes smoothed. He smiled.

“There are indeed, my dear, worse things than death,” said Helmann. “I’ve changed my mind.” He lowered his weapon. “Let us suppose instead that your refusal spells death for your friends. Of course, I will need for you to observe their executions. You’ve already seen those you loved killed before your eyes, I believe? In fact—” Here he broke off, eyebrows raised. “In fact, you saw them die
in your place
, didn’t you? So this should feel familiar.”

To my horror, Helmann paused, pointing his revolver slowly around the room, indicating with it everyone I loved: Mickie, her eyes fierce, defiant; Gwyn, snoozing in her weighted suit, curled up like a cat; Christian, openly weeping; Sir Walter, face–down upon the cold oak table; and Will.

Will!

I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye, to say
I love you.

Despair reached with icy fingers into my lungs. No matter what I did, Helmann won. He would create his New World Order. Billions would perish. In a flash, I realized there were worse things than losing the people I loved most.

What if no one had stood up to Hitler?

What if?

The thought was like fire in my bones.

I had my answer.

“What is it to be, my dear?” asked Helmann. “Will you cooperate?”

I hated my answer.

“No,” I said.

I felt Helmann’s rage wash over me. But he contained it. Calmly passing his gun to Pfeffer, he clasped hands behind his back. His eyes traveled from Will to Sir Walter, then from Gwyn to Mickie, before finally coming to rest upon Christian.

In the cool, measured tones of a man who held all the cards and had all the time in the world, he crossed to Christian’s side. To Pfeffer, Helmann said, “Let us begin with this one. Execute them all.”

Chapter Forty–Two

DOUBLE AGENT

·
SAM
·

As Helmann pronounced the death sentence, I heard an urgent command within my mind.
Ripple!
said a voice I couldn’t place.

Now!
said the stranger’s voice.

Was it Pfeffer’s voice?

I thought of the needle, the intended injection. The odd lack of pain.

I realized what it might mean and I tried to ripple.

As I disappeared, I saw Pfeffer’s gun, aimed at Christian, shift slightly. I raced toward Christian, and in that split–second, I heard Pfeffer’s shot.

Coming solid, I collided into Christian.

What have I done?
I heard Pfeffer’s stricken cry echo within my mind. Aloud, I heard the clatter of his gun as it hit the stone floor.

I twisted and I realized with shock that Pfeffer wasn’t talking about what he’d done to Christian. Helmann lay face–down upon the ground, blood seeping from his torso.

“What have I done,” Pfeffer moaned aloud.

Will’s voice, pinched with pain, drifted to me from the table. “Is Helmann dead?”

“I think so,” I said, retrieving the revolver from where it lay at Pfeffer’s feet.

“Shoot Pfeffer,” murmured Will. Then he appeared to slip into unconsciousness.

Training my weapon on Pfeffer, I spoke.

“Why did you fire upon Helmann?” I demanded.

Pfeffer collapsed his head into his hands. “I’ve doomed us all,” he whispered. From inside his mind I heard a tangle of desperate thoughts.
Two years wasted…the Angels released…my doing…my fault.
His thoughts came so fast I couldn’t unravel them.

“
Mademoiselle
,” whispered Christian. “Retrieve the weapon that lies beside Franz.”

Keeping my revolver trained on Pfeffer, I quickly grabbed the other gun.

Pfeffer’s head raised and his eyes rested upon Will. I felt a wash of compassion from Pfeffer’s mind as he stared at Will’s pale, still body.

Pfeffer spoke to me. “He needs pain relief. I have morphine.” He fumbled inside his jacket. “And a mild stimulant, perhaps.”

Pfeffer’s concern for Will was genuine, the spoken words matching the unspoken thoughts.

“May I have your permission?” asked Pfeffer, assembling a syringe and needle.

“Go ahead,” I murmured.

“Sam?” called Christian, alarmed.

“It’s okay,” I said. “He’s not our enemy.”

I caught more from Pfeffer’s anguished mind. Regrets, fears, anger and self–loathing.
All the wasted years … my failure to sabotage Helmann
. These things he repeated again and again in different forms.

Pfeffer gave Will the medication, and I watched as his eyes fluttered open. He’d never looked so good to me, but I didn’t have long to enjoy it.

During the moment it took me to tell Will that everything would be okay now, Mickie had leapt up from the couch and, running at Pfeffer, she
head–butted
him.

Chapter Forty–Three

THE SAMINATOR

·
WILL
·

My sister pissed off is something you don’t want to be in the same room with. After she’d knocked Pfeffer to the ground using her
noggin
, she lost her balance and fell over, but that didn’t stop her trying to kick his butt across the floor like he was a soccer ball.

“Mick,” I groaned. “How’s Sam supposed to shoot him with you going all bend–it–like–Beckham?”

She stopped kicking and commenced hurling curses through her gag. She was admirably successful getting the words out.

“Everyone,
quiet
!” ordered Sam. She turned to Pfeffer. “I want to know what is going on. Start with why you didn’t shoot me full of Neuroplex. Or whatever Helmann meant for you to give me.”

He shook his head. “I was trying to save your life. You’re the last living descendant of Elisabeth de Rochefort, beloved by my friend Waldhart de Rochefort.”

Sam looked puzzled. “How can you work for Helmann and still call yourself Sir Walter’s friend?”

Pfeffer shook his head slowly and sighed. “I never served Helmann. I pretended so that I might prevent the annihilation of billions.” In a voice full of anguish, he continued. “But I’ve failed. His secret died with him, and we are all powerless to stop him.”

Sam stared at him like she was making up her mind. Then, slowly, she nodded. “I can hear the truth,” she said. “I can hear your thoughts.”

Mickie started in again, although it didn’t sound so much like curse words anymore. More like questions. I tried to sit up, but the pain in my leg—dull, distant—wouldn’t let me.

“Look,” Sam said to Pfeffer, “I am
close
to trusting you right now, but you just killed Sir Walter—” Her voice choked and tears hung on the lids of her eyes. I wanted so bad to comfort her.

Pfeffer tried to interrupt, but Sam held up a hand. “No more talking from you yet. Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to untie Mickie’s hands,
slowly
, while I stand here with two guns aimed at your head.”

He nodded and complied. As soon as my sister’s hands were free, she spun around and clocked her ex–advisor on the jaw. He wiped blood from his lip, but made no attempt to defend himself.

My sister reached for the gag and tore it off. “
That
was for lying to us,” she said. “And this is for tying me up and rippling with me.” She pulled back to nail him a second time.

“Stop!” Sam shouted.

And my sister actually listened. Maybe because Sam had a gun in each hand. It was like Sam was some avenging angel whose wings had unfurled. Man, I loved her.

“I did not end Waldhart’s life,” said Pfeffer, taking advantage of the silence. “He’s only asleep, contrary to Helmann’s orders.”

Sam turned to him. The hope in her eyes about broke my heart in half. “Check Sir Walter’s pulse,” she said to my sister.

Mick nodded and walked to the old man’s body. “His heart’s beating,” she reported.

Sam closed her eyes and took a slow breath. “Mickie, please untie him. And then Christian.”

“Someone should tell Bridget everything’s okay,” I said. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth. “And someone should get Gwyn out of that ridiculous suit.”

My sister volunteered.

Sam turned back to Pfeffer. “What was in the shot you gave Sir Walter?”