Backfire

As he waited, Savich decided that as soon as he finished his attempt at raising Director Mueller’s spirits he would put an extra guard on Emma. They had kept Sean safe from Charlene, and he would make sure she couldn’t turn her attention to Emma. At least right now, she was safe in her father’s hospital room.

He’d just finished giving Director Mueller a rundown when a skinny tech came slouching toward him in a long white coat and high-top sneakers. He had thick blond hair on the long side, and a stethoscope around his neck. Savich registered in that second that something wasn’t right. Despite all that blond hair, the guy was older than he’d originally thought, lots older. The man looked at his watch, and Savich saw his wrist. It wasn’t a man’s wrist.

He wasn’t fast enough. The man already had his gun jammed into Savich’s side.

He leaned close. “No, Agent Savich, I don’t think you want to do much more than breathe and accept that your trip through life is coming to a dramatic end. Long overdue, I’d say.”

Savich didn’t move. He said, “Hello, Charlene. Pretty good disguise, except that all that hair doesn’t match how old you are. Why didn’t you wear a white wig?”

The gun shoved hard into his side. “Smart mouth on you, but you’re right, I could have done better than this wig, but I didn’t have much time. Turns out it didn’t make a lick of difference, now, did it? I might be older than you, baby boy, but I’ve got lots of experience handling punks like you.”

“No,” Savich said, “I don’t think you do.”

She gave a low laugh as she jerked his SIG out of his belt clip and slipped it into her coat pocket. “Now, don’t you move or you’re dead where you stand.” She leaned closer. “I can tell you want to have a go at me. I read all about your martial arts demos and how everyone oohs and aahs over you, but you move a muscle and I’ll shoot you, and then I’ll kill those guards in front of Judge Hunt’s room, then all the nurses down at the nurses’ station. If one of the guards shoots me, who cares? I don’t.” The gun jammed hard again against his kidney. Savich didn’t make a sound, even though the shot of pain nearly sent him to his knees.

“Now, you and I are going to take a little walk to the stairs at the end of the corridor. We’re going to walk up those stairs to the roof. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I decided I’d like to see you do a lovely swan dive from seven floors up.”

She moved behind him, kept the gun pressed into the small of his back. “Don’t forget, I can pull this trigger faster than you can do any of your fancy kicks. You’re real quiet, aren’t you? You’re thinking about going for it? Be my guest. At the very least you’d be strapped in a wheelchair for the rest of your days. That’d be okay, but I’d rather see you lying splattered on the ground seven floors down. You wanna know something really ironic?”

“Yes.”

“Your little wife is enjoying herself with Joe Keats—you call him Xu, I think. Only he doesn’t look like Xu right now. No, he’s a butt-ugly scrub nurse with lots of black hair and glasses. I even put some lipstick on Joe, stuffed his cheeks to fatten them up, strapped a pillow around his middle, smeared on some eye shadow. Think it’ll fool your little wife?”

Savich lost the spit in his mouth. No, Harry will take care of Sherlock. No one’s going to get past Harry, but Harry isn’t expecting Xu. No, let it go, focus. You’ve got to get out of this alive before you can get to Sherlock. Pay attention.

“Yep, Joe called me a few minutes ago. He should have her away from her guard by now, and in a couple of minutes we’re going to hear a big honker boom—this floor’s going to turn to dust and ashes. That will roust and rumble all your buddies, make them think Judge Hunt’s under attack. Joe’s good with bombs. Then Joe and I are going to walk away.

“Hey, I wonder if she’s bitten the big one yet? He was stone-cold pissed that she brought him down since she’s half his size, not to mention she’s a woman. She humiliated him. Joe told me a professional has to take pride in his work or he isn’t worth spit. She stomped on his pride. A man like Joe shouldn’t have to suffer humiliation like that unless he’s as mean as a snake like that vicious bastard of a husband I had to shoot in the face—” She paused, shook her head. Stop it, shut your mouth. He doesn’t need to know all this, STOP IT.

She snapped back and focused. “For what you did you deserve this. I’d say that sounds real good, don’t you? Has a real ring to it. Killing you is going to beat shooting that judge who murdered my boy, because you’re the one who made it happen. Keep walking. Up the stairs, boy. Move out.”