HSH: Hero Heist Chap 25-26
Chapter 25
Showdown
I’d love to tell you I fell gracefully, but it’s kind of like when you’re running upstairs, and you think there’s one more step, but there isn’t, you really have no choice but to fall flat on your face. That’s kind of the way Quinn and I fell.
The good news was, I’d figured out what it took to break bullet-proof glass. Apparently, all you needed was about three hundred pounds moving at sixty miles-an-hour. I know it seems like useless information, but think of what I could have done with that knowledge back in Turin when I was trying to steal the fake shroud. You never know when useless info might come in handy.
Anyway, Quinn and I fell smack down on the wet pavement, amid shards of broken glass. I’d managed to throw a mental barrier around my body out of sheer reflex and Quinn had done the same, but I’d still gotten a few cuts from crashing through the window.
The metal cross clattered across the ground, landing about ten yards away. Now aching, I managed to get myself to my feet first and ran over to it before Quinn got up. Once I touched the uneven etchings on the metal case, I knew what was inside was special. I could feel the contents, like I could feel the spear and Quinn’s cup. This was what we’d been after.
I opened the case, but made sure to cover it with my body to prevent the rain from pouring onto the contents. A 2,000-year-old piece of cloth probably wasn’t the best thing to get wet. Once it was open, I brownish shroud came into view. It was folded tightly within the cross, but that wasn’t all. Laying atop the cloth were four long splinters of wood, each no bigger than my finger.
I reached out and touched one and had to recoil from the mental blast I’d received. They had to be small pieces of the True Cross, what was left of the artifact anyway after thousands of years of decay.
By now, there was a crowd forming at the windows, looking at the two crazy people who’d crashed through outside. I could feel the amazement of a few of them we both weren’t dead. I rolled my eyes. As usual, a crisis erupts, and all people can do is watch. Does no one have any sense of danger anymore?
Resealing the contents within the metal cross, I stood once again.
The officers chasing me were bound to come out at any moment. So, I had to get out of there with the case.
I jumped into the air, intending to fly off with the cross and its contents, but I didn’t make it five feet into the air before a force slammed be back into the ground.
“Give it back to me and I may not kill you,” Quinn groaned.
Dazed as I was, I managed to tighten my grip on the case. As I propped myself up on my other hand, I saw Quinn, still about three yards away, standing over me.
“I can’t do that,” I told him.
“I train you. I keep you safe. And this is how you repay me? You ungrateful little bitch!” He reached out with a greedy hand, taking another step toward me. As he lifted his leg, I grabbed the opposite foot with my mind and pulled it out from under him. Quinn fell onto his back with a loud “Oof!”
I stood up, and keeping an eye on Quinn’s fallen form, I backed away slowly. He was going to get back up, and when he did he was going to be furious. I needed to put as much distance between him and I as I could.
KRACK-KABOOM! A bolt of lightning sizzled through the clouds, causing me to go temporarily blind for half a second in the flash.
When I was able to see again, Quinn had disappeared. “What?” I said in confusion. Quinn couldn’t have possibly moved that fast.
Suddenly, I was pushed hard from behind and was sent sprawling to the ground. I almost fumbled the metal cross.
For the third time, I rose to my feet. It was amazing how much more of a beating I could take in the suit. It was as if the material absorbed the blows being wailed upon me. Don’t get me wrong, I still felt them, but I should have been a lot more hurt than I was.
The airport police officers forced their way to the broken window. “Hold it right there!” one shouted at me. He had his gun aimed in my direction. His hands shook, which told me he’d never actually fired at another person before.
The other officers disappeared into the gathered spectators, probably to find a way out onto the tarmac. I wasn’t at all worried about the officer’s gun aimed at me, when and if he fired, the bio-suit was more than capable of handling the bullet. I’d learned that first-hand when Samantha jumped in front of a bullet to save my life.
I was even less worried as the gun was seemingly yanked from the hands of the now confused officer by some invisible force.
My neck craned as the gun spun through the air, over my head, into the waiting hand of Quinn, who stood five feet behind me.
He aimed the gun directly at my head, and for a half-second I was sure Quinn was going to shoot. I took a breath—maybe my last.
“Drop the gun,” the nervous-looking officer shouted from the window.
Without hesitation and barely looking, Quinn raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
My eyes closed as the gun flashed. It took a split-second to raise a mental shield around myself. I waited for it to be struck by the bullet, but after another second, I realized it wasn’t going to come.
Opening my eyes, I saw the gun had been pointed over my head. I spun to see the officer, clutching his chest where he’d been hit. Blood stained his brown shirt and hands. He looked into my eyes, completely shocked, before he fell out the window.
I should have saved him. I should have dove under the window and caught him, or grabbed him with my powers and floated him gently. But I did none of that. Instead, like my body was firmly rooted to the ground and I had no control over my movement, I stood and watched the man plummet to the pavement, and smack head-first into it. He was dead.
I turned back to Quinn, my eyes wide and my jaw hanging open in disbelief. He’d killed the man for absolutely no reason. I tried to utter a curse, a sound, anything, but my vocal chords refused to work.
Quinn casually tossed the gun to me. On instinct, I caught it, almost dropping the box in the attempt. I stared down at the weapon, still warm in my hands, the faint smell of gunpowder reaching my nostrils. It was heavier than it looked, but I still found myself thinking, How can something so small, kill so easily?
Then, hands shaking and a deathly glare crossing my features, the real question formed in my mind. How can Quinn kill so easily?
“His blood is on your hands, Christine,” Quinn shouted above the gale. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t come after me. Now, give me the box and no one else needs to get hurt.”
I could feel his manipulative tendrils of mental energy attempting to break through the barrier around my mind. In response, I pushed more of my concentration to keep the barrier intact. This was the easy part. I could repel his controlling thoughts all day. When he tried to get physical, and my concentration was torn, was when I’d run into trouble.
Which was why I had to stall until help arrived—if help arrived.
They had plenty of time to get here by already. The tracking systems implanted in me still should have worked. Not to mention my dash through the airport had to be all over the news by now. So, where were they?
“And what are you going to do with it if I give it to you?” I asked.
The winds and rain carried my voice away, and I wasn’t sure Quinn heard me, until he responded. “We’ve been through this. I’m trying to save the world.”
“Save it?” I yelled. “Or change it?”
A loud clap of thunder shook the air when Quinn responded. I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like he said, “What’s the difference?”
For a moment, I wondered if there really was a difference. After all, saving the world would require some amount of change, wouldn’t it?
I shook my head. I couldn’t think like that. I couldn’t think like HIM. The only way to save everyone would be for the item inside the cross to be destroyed. And that was exactly what I intended to do.
I tossed the gun aside, thinking once again about the innocent man who’d wielded it. The sickness I felt at the thought of what Quinn did to him quickly turned to anger—anger at the man before me who was intent on committing who knew how many more atrocities against humanity. He needed to be stopped.
I didn’t stand a chance at fighting Quinn one on one, and if I lingered too much longer his limited patience would fail. So, I had one option—run!
A door behind me burst open and several officers poured out into the rainy afternoon weather. Their guns were already drawn, and I’m surprised they didn’t open fire immediately upon seeing us.
Even without any gunfire, it was the distraction I needed, and without waiting another second, I leapt over Quinn, landing in a deep puddle and sprinted off along the runway. The metal cross was tucked safely under my arm, as I ran headlong through the torrents of water dumping down on top of me.
I never looked back, even as I heard the unmistakable sounds of gunfire behind me. While I hoped the airport officers would be able to take Quinn down, I knew realistically, the men didn’t stand a chance. All I needed was for them to keep my former teacher busy long enough for me to get away.
I pelted down the runway, splashing through puddles in my haste to escape. As I ran, I shoved the metal cross inside Gina’s bag with the faux-shroud. Another crash of thunder startled me, and caused me to break my stride for an instant. I quickly righted myself, and continued on my way to what appeared to be an empty hangar.
The long half-cylindrical building was huge. I guess it had to be if they were able to park a full-sized jet in there. There was no one in there and no planes in sight, but even before I made it inside I suspected there would be hundreds of places where I’d be able to hide the box. As long as it remained hidden, it wouldn’t have to worry about it, and could more easily confront Quinn.
Only when I made it under the cover of the high round ceiling did I slow down and allow myself to look back. There was no sign of pursuit, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think Quinn wouldn’t follow me. He’d be coming, and soon.
The hangar had to be twice as big as the football field back at school, and looked like it could fit several planes at once. Glancing around, I noticed there were fewer places I could hide the box than I’d originally thought. The hangar had, as one would expect, way too much open space. They could literally hold a concert for a few thousand people in this place, and still have room to spare. However, it seemed while I thought there’d be tool chests, and equipment laying around where I could stash the box, there wasn’t much.
There were a few cabinets on the left side of the hangar, where they must have stored some equipment to fix planes, and I figured it would have to do. I rushed over and flung the door of one cabinet open. Inside were a bunch of blue work uniforms, hanging neatly in a row. On the bottom were black work-boots.
Well, it’s better than nothing I guess.
I shoved the case inside, and slammed the door shut, running the length of the humongous building in a few seconds. On the wall was a glass case, and inside emergency equipment, including a fire hose, fire extinguisher and a med-kit—nothing I could really use against Quinn, but that wasn’t the point. I removed the fake shroud and stuffed it inside with the hose.
I stood there, with my hands inside and waited. He would be along any minute in search of me and the case.
“If anyone’s hearing this,” I said into the pendant, “I’m in a hangar, about a mile from the main terminal. Come quickly, I don’t know how much longer I can hold Quinn off.”
As if on cue, the man descended from the sky, into the hangar. I made sure he saw me, and when he did I pretended to struggle and then nervously slammed the glass emergency case shut. I backed away, and came to the center of the room.
Quinn landed easily on the ground, and dripping wet from the storm, he spoke, “Foolish, Christine. Clever, but foolish none-the-less. You will not stop me from taking my prize, and you along with it.”
“Me?” I asked. “What do you want me for?”
He ran his hand through his hair, trying to shake loose the water clinging to it. “I think that should be obvious. Although, you never did learn how to fully use your brain, did you?”
“What are you talking about?” I’d play the stalling game as long as possible. The longer I did, the more of a chance help would arrive. So, I’d let Quinn talk until he was blue in the face. Let him, as Ethan would say, monologue his entire plan. Maybe he’d reveal something I could use against him.
“It’s always been about you, Christine. Haven’t you come to realize that yet? I’ve tested you, right down to the genetic level, and you are the one it must be.”
He stepped toward me, arms raised, but this time almost as if he were going to embrace me rather than attack. I stepped away just as quickly. No matter his motive, I didn’t want the murderer anywhere near me. I had plenty of room to back up, and at the rate we were going it would take several minutes before I was up against the wall.
“I must be what?” I asked.
“You are the only one who will be able to take the full genetic code.”
I didn’t quite comprehend, and even though I was keeping my distance from the man, who could very well lash out at me at any given moment, the look on my face was unquestionable.
Quinn shook his head, and kept advancing in my direction. “You can be so completely clueless sometimes, I begin to wonder myself if I haven’t been mistaken. Let me spell it out for you plainly. I have the Grail, you have the Spear. In the box you were so obviously hiding as I came in, are the final two pieces of the puzzle. Inside are the real Shroud of Turin and the last few splinters of what remains of the True Cross. Each one of them has touched the blood of Christ. Each one of them has one piece of his genetic code. Put all four of them together and…”
“And you make the ultimate human being,” I finished for him.
“No, you make a god. And you bring about the change this world needs to survive.”
Okay, I realized I had never actually been scared before in my entire life. The look of seriousness on Quinn’s face, and his talk about turning a person into a deity, was… scary. The worst part was, somehow, he thought I was the key to all of it, which meant he wanted to involve me in some crazy way.
I know I shouldn’t have. I should have remained quiet and not said another word. Or maybe I should have struck and let him end me right then and there. But I couldn’t help myself. I had to know. “Why did you say it’s always been about me?”
“You’re the only vessel that can hold the genetic code. My research has shown, given to just anyone, even one who is gifted with our talents, the genes would burn that person up from the inside out. Oh, they would have great power for the last few days of their meaningless lives, but in the end, their bodies wouldn’t be able to handle it. You are different. It’s like you were built specifically for the purpose of holding the genetic material.”
I closed my eyes and imagined myself having limitless power. I could do almost anything I wanted. I would have the power to do anything, to save anyone. I could even put down evil in the world once and for all.
My eyes sprung open as Quinn spoke again. “Why do you think I have so much patience with you? Anyone else, and I’d have destroyed them eons ago.”
I had to think about that for a second. Once I thought about it, I realized it was true, though he occasionally lost his temper with me, he’d shown more patience and understanding with my arguments than he had with anyone else. When Johnny had thought to question Quinn’s authority, the man almost lost it, but when I had done the same, it had been more of a discussion.
It was too much to take in at once. I needed to change the subject.
“Can I ask you something?”
He nodded.
“Did you know the shroud in Turin Cathedral was a fake?”
He nodded again. “They moved it days after my first attempt.”
“Then why go through all the trouble of having us steal it? Why didn’t we go straight to the Vatican in the first place?”
“The alarm had to be raised at the Vatican. Once they realized the artifact was in danger, they moved it to the vaults underneath the city—the most secured area where the most important documents and artifacts are kept.”
“And using us as a distraction, you slipped in unnoticed and took them,” I said. My anger was boiling again and threatened to burst out. “You used us?”
“To use a term I’m sure you’ll be familiar with, sometimes you have to sacrifice a few pawns to claim victory.”
Was this what you were really trying to teach me, Grandpa? Had the whole stupid chess teaching been a warning about how Quinn would try to use me? No. That couldn’t have been it.
“And what if I’d been captured, or killed? You said you needed me. What would you have done then?”
“Well, recently—quite recently, in fact—I have determined that your genetic code wasn’t as unique as I’d originally thought. If you had perished in my attempt to steal the shroud, I would have been upset, but I would have gone with an alternative. Your brother shares your ability to handle the full genetic code. I’ll admit, it wasn’t easy obtaining a blood sample from him, seeing as your house is watched almost around the clock, but—”
“Shut up!” I shouted. “You go near Conner again and so help me…”
“You’ll what? Kill me?” The way he said it caused every muscle in my body to tense. He was mocking me. His eyes narrowed and a wave of his anger crashed down upon me. “You don’t do that, remember? You said it yourself. You couldn’t sacrifice even one life to help the greater good. So, don’t try acting all tough and threaten me. It won’t do you any good.”
I thought seriously about rushing him and attacking then and there, and the hell with the backup that was probably never coming. This man had broken into my home and hurt my brother, all for some sick science experiment. He deserved to die. He needed to be tortured, nice and slow until he begged to be killed. But are you willing to do it, Christine?
A loud boom broke the tension I thought might have been thunder, but it didn’t sound quite right. I looked away from Quinn then, and walking in, gun with smoking barrel held over his head, was Agent Smith.
Quinn too turned to look at the intruder. His lip curled with disgust at the sight of the man.
Smith, not in the least afraid, even knowing the things Quinn could do, charged forward in sort of a walk/run until he had the barrel of his gun pressed directly against Quinn’s lips. “Just give me a reason,” he said.
Chapter 26
Standoff
When I’d asked for backup, Smith was definitely not the person I had in mind.
He looked over his shoulder at me and said, “Nice work, Agent Carpenter, but I’ll take it from here.”
Like hell you are, I thought. I was about as likely as stand by and let him get his hands on the artifacts as I was to let Quinn run off with them.
I didn’t move, but remained ready. Once I made my intentions known to Smith, I’d be in danger of both him and Quinn.
Smith stepped up behind Quinn and forced his gun into the back of Quinn’s neck. With his free hand he placed a small round device, about the size of a quarter, on Quinn’s neck behind his ear. Instantly, Quinn’s mental presence disappeared.
“Don’t even bother trying anything now. You couldn’t even lift a paperclip with that thing on. Now give me your hands!”
Quinn didn’t immediately comply, but didn’t say anything either. When it was clear, he wasn’t going to move, Smith pressed the gun further into Quinn’s neck. “Do it, or I’ll blow your head off right here!”
Quinn half-closed his eyes and turned his head slightly as if to see Smith over his shoulder. Then, he moved both of his arms back behind him, sighing like an impatient boy waiting in line for lunch.
Smith worked quickly, and with one hand cuffed Quinn’s wrists behind him. With his hands bound and the large inhibitor on his head, it pretty much rendered any resistance from the man absolutely useless.
“So, let’s begin,” Smith said. Moving beside Quinn now, and stepping back a pace so the gun wasn’t directly against his head anymore. “Where’s the shroud?”
Quinn looked at me, then over at the barrel of Smith’s gun as if bored. Then he looked down at the ground, saying nothing.
“Where is the shroud?” Smith repeated—this time shouting. His eyes were wide and maniacally looking at Quinn. He’d gone off the deep end. Obsession had taken over his mind now, and he was beyond reasoning with. He was also desperately close to pulling the trigger and spraying Quinn’s brains all over the floor.
The worst part was, I actually considered letting him. With Quinn out of the picture, I’d have so much less to worry about. There’d be one less idiot out there trying to reshape the world.
Right, like you’re going to let that happen.
I tried sending soothing, calming thoughts to Smith, but he had one of the inhibitors on too, so I wasn’t able to break through. I didn’t dare break the device like I knew I could. If Smith felt it, in his irrational state of mind, he’d probably pull the trigger out of agitation.
A loud click echoed through the silent room. Smith had cocked the handgun. “I’m only going to ask once more.”
Quinn gazed directly in my eyes. It was an intense stare, one that said I’d better do something.
Why doesn’t he do something? the voice asked.
I sighed. Again, I could have let Smith shoot him. But I couldn’t even allow Quinn, a man who’d admitted to harming my brother and using me for some foolish attempt to change the world, to be murdered.
Hating myself, and promising a self-inflicted mental beating when this was all over, I pointed and said, “It’s in the emergency case on the wall.”
Quinn closed his eyes as if relieved I’d revealed the artifact’s location.
Smith merely glanced over at the case where I’d stashed the fake shroud, but he didn’t take his eyes off Quinn. Keeping his gun aimed at my former science teacher, he backed away toward the wall.
“Excellent diversion,” Quinn whispered. “You almost had me convinced. Now, where is the real shroud?”
“Like I’m going to tell you,” I whispered back.
Without averting his gaze, Smith reached behind himself and opened the emergency cabinet. Then he felt around until his hand grasped the rough fabric of the shroud. His eyes lit up with delight, when he extracted the item and saw it.
There didn’t seem to be any doubt in his mind he was holding the genuine article. “Good work, Agent Carpenter. I can see now how useful you can be.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”
He walked back toward us, fake shroud in one hand, gun pointed at Quinn in the other. As he drew closer, I could see the look in his eye. It was the look of a power-crazed man—one that saw his competition as a threat he had to eliminate at any cost.
“And now that I have what I want, I see no more reason to keep you around.” He pressed the gun barrel against the side of Quinn’s head.
The man, my former teacher and mentor, totally helpless and knowing he was out of options, looked to me once more for help. It was kind of pathetic actually for someone so old to plead for his life—albeit silently. It was the first time I’d seen genuine fear in Quinn’s expression. And if he hadn’t been such an evil dirtbag, I might have felt sympathy for him, but I couldn’t.
On the other hand, I also couldn’t let Smith kill him. Fortunately, as I prepared to jerk the gun from his hand, and totally ruin any notion I was on Smith’s side, I was saved the need to do so.
“Drop it, Smith,” Abby’s voice was even as if she were greeting a coworker coming into the office. Of course, her tone didn’t need to be forceful. The long-barrelled rifle she had pointed at Smith, and the fact her eyes was against the sniper-scope mounted on the top, pretty much said one false move from the man would mean the end of his life.
Behind her ran in Ethan, stopping cold beside her. Then Peter and Savanah joined them. All three wore costumes similar to what I wore, masks and all. For the first time, my chest swelled with pride seeing my three friends in uniform, and knowing I matched them.
Ethan attempted to meet my gaze. I had to look away, as glad as I was to see him, I still couldn’t face him. Somehow, I knew if I looked directly at him, he would figure out what I’d done not two hours ago. It had been a stupid mistake, but Ethan wouldn’t understand.
“Okay, so who’s the bad guy here?” Ethan asked the others.
“They both are, Loser,” Savanah responded. “Don’t you pay attention?”
“ADHD,” Ethan responded. “Side-effect of my powers.”
“You really have issues.”
“Agent Davidson, shut those damned kids up!” Smith howled. He dug the gun deeper into the side of Quinn’s head, causing the man to wince in pain. He finger tightened ever so slightly on the trigger as well, and I feared the gun might go off. Yet, I still did nothing.
“Actually, I’m done taking orders from you,” Abby said. She didn’t falter at all, keeping Smith directly in the sight of the scope. To prove she was serious, she lit up the laser sight, placing a bright red dot on Smith’s forehead. “Christine, would you be so kind as to retrieve Mr. Smith’s weapon?”
“With pleasure.”
I reached out to grab the gun with my mind. I had a grip on it, and was about to yank it from his clenched fingers when…
“I am your superior officer,” Smith ranted, though I wasn’t sure if it was directed toward me or Abby. “You would be nothing without me, Davidson!” Okay, guess that answered the question. “I deserve your respect and loyalty!”
“You deserve nothing!” Abby spat back. She took a few steps closer to the man, making her chance of missing him even slimmer. “I trusted you, and I was loyal to you until Christine told me about your outing the other night. So, I did a little digging of my own.” She was angry, she felt betrayed, and yet, as she spoke, it sounded more like she was reading from a police report rather than pointing an accusatory finger at her own former mentor. “When did it become M.H.D.A. policy to hire mercenaries to pose as Agents on an intel mission? Or should I call it an ambush? Because the last I checked, you didn’t need over a dozen men to question a potential informant.”
Well, that certainly explained a lot. I thought they’d been Agents, but they were nothing but hired guns, which might have explained why Klaus was able to take them out so easily.
Smith looked at me, eyes red with anger. He thought I’d been the one to cause his plan to go awry.
Only one question formed in my mind. It was a simple one, but I knew the answer would be complicated. I cast a narrowed eye at Smith and simply asked, “Why?”
Though the question had been meant for the aged Agent, Abby was the one who’d answered. “He’s been double-dipping for months, as far as I can tell. I’ve gone through all our records for the last six months. Three trips to Jerusalem at $250,000 each? A work order to refurbish a facility in the Rockie Mountains we don’t even own for $20million? Recon on four German and six American geneticists, who have all mysteriously turned up missing in the last two months? Two leaves of absence for two weeks at a time? Does anyone else find this suspicious?”
Ethan raised his hand and pronounced, “I do.”
I seriously had to have a talk with that boy about rhetorical questions.
“What are you building Smith? And why is that thing in your hand so important?”
I closed my eyes, and once again saw the images I’d seen in his head the other night. The army he planned to create, more powerful than any other—a force no one on Earth could dare oppose.
As the spark of Smith’s plan ignited inside my head, Quinn’s lips turned upward in a vicious looking smile. “I think Ms. Carpenter knows the answer.”
All eyes were on me. Even Smith, who seemed less interested in the laser sight burning a hole in his skin than what I was about to say. He looked at me fearfully, as if I might very well out his whole stupid scheme.
“He’s building a cloning facility. With the shroud’s genetic code, he’s going to create an army of super-powered men.” I paused and gazed into Quinn’s eyes as I prepared to let out the next part. “Exactly like the Nazi’s did when they created Quinn.”
“So,” Ethan asked, dragging out the vowel a little too long, “are we talking like the clone army from Star Wars?”
“Actually, yes,” I wanted to beat my head into a wall for the fact I knew exactly what he was talking about. “Thousands of soldiers, exactly the same—except for their super-powers.”
Quinn’s grin of satisfaction, despite the gun still held against his head, made me shudder. He had a look that said, “I was right all along.”
Smith, who’d been surprisingly quiet, finally spoke up. I think it would’ve been perfect if he’d said, “And I would have gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids and your dog.” But, alas, those particular words did not spout from his lips. Instead he said, “You’re all fools! All of you! Can’t you see this is the next necessary step for the survival of the United States? We have enemies at every corner of the globe, all trying to tear us down! What I’m proposing is insurance. Insurance for our very existence. And I’m not about to let you, any of you, thwart me!”
And at that point, I burst out laughing, causing everyone to look at me once again. Of course, laughing at a person with a gun to someone’s head was never the right thing to do, but I couldn’t help myself. “Thwart? Are you trying to sound like a 60’s comic book villain?”
Abby and Smith were the only two who didn’t join in my giggling. Even Quinn let out a small chuckle, until Smith pushed the gun into his skull again.
“Smith, don’t you see what you’re doing?” Abby said, trying to be the voice of reason, even though she still had her own rifle poised to put a hole in her former boss’ head. “You’re going to create an army more powerful than you. How can you ever hope to control them?”
“Oh, that’s quite simple, Agent Davidson,” Smith said, with a psychotic-looking grin that made him look ever-more like an old comic book villain. “I already have prototypes. I will implant tiny devices inside my soldiers. They will be completely undetectable. And if my men get out of line—BOOM! I assure you, the other soldiers, seeing the remains of their comrade, will keep them firmly under my thumb.”
“And you expect your men to let them put these things inside them?” I asked.
“You did,” he responded, with another devious grin.
I’m pretty sure my heart stopped then. I thought about that day Smith first showed up in my house. The tracking devices he’d implanted in me, were they really explosives? Could I, at any moment, spontaneously combust? Was it as simple as the push of a button? Could Smith set them off at any given moment?
I turned to the only person I could—Ethan. I gazed directly into his eyes from across the room, and I got what I was looking for: sympathy. Of everyone in the room, Ethan would feel the most pain if I were to suddenly become a fireball of flying body parts.
Knowing my life could end at any given second, I sent my boyfriend the most important message I could think of at that moment. I’m sorry.
“Am I your simple villain anymore, little girl? Or have I finally gotten the respect I deserve from a little whelp like you?”
I was going to answer, but was interrupted by yet another person entering the hangar seeking the prize of the shroud. “Everyone hold it!”
I had to turn and search for the source of the voice. Another group strode forward. The leader, a man in a black leather jacket with slick backed hair, and still wearing sunglasses despite the cloudy sky outside, held a pair of silver handguns out in front of him. His arms were straight as arrows, and the guns were aimed at Smith and Abby.
Commander Dresner stopped three feet behind me. And flanking him, all appearing quite displeased, were Klaus, Jayson, Johnny and Gina.
In response to the new gun pointed at him, Smith threw the shroud to the ground, and drew another black handgun from inside his jacket. He pointed it over my shoulder at Dresner.
“You know that won’t do any good,” Dresner said. “Bullet-proof, remember?”
Abby sidestepped to her right, keeping Smith in her sights at all times, but moving to be in a position to shoot at Dresner, or any of his accomplices if she had to.
Dresner ignored the pair of Agents, even as he continued aiming at both of them, and turned his head to face Quinn. “Long time no see, eh Quintus? Sorry about commandeering your team, but they were more than willing to switch sides when they learned you’d left them to rot in a Vatican jail cell.”
“Are you all right, Christine?” Klaus asked.
I simply nodded, not sure if I should say anything about the bombs I was apparently carrying inside my body.
Dresner glanced my way this time and said, “By the way, girly, nice work. You’ve got the entire continent believing in angels. I didn’t think it was possible, but there have been more trips booked to come to Rome in the last hour than in the last year.”
I wasn’t sure if he was complimenting me, or making fun of me. Not wanting yet another psycho to worry about, I really hoped it was a compliment.
“Dedrick,” Smith said plainly. “Drop the guns. I have you outnumbered, and I have Quintus. He’s my prisoner, and I don’t intend to give him up.
“From the looks of things, Agent Smith, I’d say you’re the one who’s outnumbered. Or am I mistaken in thinking you’re team here has all but deserted you. So, I believe it will be you who will drop your weapons and hand Quintus, and the shroud, over to me.”
“Over my dead body,” Smith said.
“That’s the general idea.”
This was it. This was going to come to the point of no return in a couple of seconds unless I did something. Once that first shot was fired, I doubted anything would be able to stop the three gun-toting adults until everyone was wounded or dead.
Quinn simply smiled.
I wasn’t about to let them all kill each other for the stupid rag laying on the ground at Smith’s feet. Ethan, you need to grab the guns from everyone.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ethan nod and get ready to run. Before he even took one step, all hell broke loose.
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