Then he heard the sound of a monitor beeping. And someone crying. Audrey. She was in here somewhere. He knew it. He just had to find the right door.
But just as he reached for the next latch, he heard a door open at the end of the hall.
He looked up and saw a figure emerge from a room.
She was barefoot and dressed in a hospital gown. Her hair was ratty and uncombed with a bad case of bed hair. Her eyes had that glassy look like the last time he’d seen her at the movie set.
And in her hand was a semiautomatic handgun. Stainless steel. It looked like a .44 Magnum with maybe ten rounds.
She started for him.
“Audrey,” he cried out to her. “I’m here. I’m going to—”
She raised her arm and fired the gun.
Holloway ducked just as the bullet blew a hole in the wall a foot over his head.
“Audrey, honey. Don’t do that.”
She fired again.
He ducked behind a metal service cart. The bullet whizzed past him. Her aim had gotten better.
“C’mon, baby. Put that down and let’s go get some pizza.”
Again she fired.
This time the bullet hit the cart, spinning it away from him and making it sing. He raced across the hall and dove behind the receptionist desk just as she got another round off.
He could try to make her spend all her rounds, then rush her, but that was too risky. Talking was no use. He’d have to try something else.
She fired again, and the tray spun around and rolled toward him.
She’d been firing at the sound of his voice. Maybe the drug messed up her vision. He had an idea. There was a glass vase full of artificial flowers at the end of the desk.
He picked it up and hurled it against the opposite wall. It hit high and shattered into a thousand pieces with a loud clink.
Audrey turned and fired at it just as he thought she would, blowing another big hole in the wall. Before she could turn back, he positioned the cart and gave it a hard shove. It rolled down the aisle and hit her square in the knees.
She stumbled, confused, and lowered the gun.
He rushed forward, shoved the cart aside, grabbed her weapon arm with one hand, and put his other around her waist.
“What are you doing?” she cried, sounding like a frightened child.
She pulled back and they tumbled to the floor. She tried to fight him, kicking and biting, but his attention was on the gun. He held her wrist and shook hard it until she let go.
Then he picked up the weapon and slid it down the hall as far as it could go.
“Let me up. Let me go.” Audrey kept kicking and pounding on him with her fists.
He spread his legs over hers to stop the blows, then his body over hers as best he could. He used an elbow against her neck to keep her teeth away while he reached into his pants pocket.
He drew out the small glass bottle he’d been carrying. Back in the Agency lab, he’d talked Becker into getting it for him when Steele was out of the room. It wasn’t the original bottle. It was one that belonged to the Agency.
Becker had poured off just enough of the antidote into it to work, according to Fry’s speculation.
He hoped Fry was right.
And that Audrey wouldn’t knock it out of his hands. He struggled to open the bottle and squeezed the stopper to draw up the liquid. He put it to her lips.
She turned her head away.
“C’mon, baby. Do it for me. Please?”
As if he’d finally made sense to her, she opened her mouth. Was that the programming Iwasaki had done? It didn’t matter now.
Carefully he let two drops fall into her mouth. He lifted her jaw to shut her mouth, put the cap on the bottle, and waited.
Slowly she stopped fighting him. Her blows grew light and finally her arms and legs went limp on the floor. She lay there for a long moment, her eyes closed. Was she breathing? Fry had said the stuff was toxic. Had he killed her?
Then her chest expanded and she opened her eyes.
She looked at him like he was a space alien. “Curt? What are you doing in my apartment?”
Her voice was normal. She was back. He wanted to cry with joy.
“We’re not exactly in your apartment.”
Pushing him off of her, she sat up and looked around, alarm on her face. “Where am I? What is this place?” She looked down at her hospital gown. “And what the hell am I wearing?”
“This is a bad place. I’m going to get you out of here. C’mon.” He got to his feet and held out a hand to her.
Still looking bewildered, she took his hand and began to follow him. “I’m going to be late for rehearsal. I got the part of Mrs. Gibbs in Our Town. Did I tell you?”
“I heard about it.”
He led her out of the hospital room and into an open space that looked like a cave. Now he wasn’t sure where he was.
“Where are we going, Curt?”
“We’re getting out of here. Just give me a minute to think.”
But before he could decide what to do, he heard a loud clang. It rang out again. Bam. Bam. Bam. The sound of metal against metal.
He took out his flashlight and shined it against the wall about ten feet away. Large chunks of rocks began to fall from the surface.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Someone was breaking through. He didn’t know whether to run or go help them. He took out his gun and pushed Audrey into a corner, shielding her with his body.
“Who is that, Curt?”
“I don’t know.”
But the answer came quickly enough. The battering ram punched its way through the wall and a man dressed in a SWAT uniform stepped into the cave. Behind him were two other officers, and Lieutenant Erskine.
“Over here,” he shouted, holstering his gun.
Erskine hurried toward him. “Holloway, are you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine. I’ve got Audrey. She was drugged. She didn’t mean to do any of those things. I gave her an antidote. The one Steele found at the movie set. She’s better now.”
But Audrey had that bewildered look again. She was frightened.
“What are the police doing here, Curt? Am I in trouble?”
Erskine’s face turned grim. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to take her in.”
“I know. But she’s innocent. I’ll swear to that in court.”
With a nod of acknowledgment Erskine gestured to one of the officers to take Audrey. “We’ll let her speak to the staff psychiatrist.”
Audrey grabbed onto his arm. “Curt, what’s going on?”
“It’s going to be all right, babe. I promise. Just go with this officer now.”
He hated to let her go, but at least she was safe from that madman now.
As the officer led her out through the hole they’d made, Erskine turned back to him. “Where’s Iwasaki?”
“You haven’t found him?”
“No. I thought you did. And Parker and Steele? Aren’t they with you?”
Curt felt as if the floor were sinking beneath him. “I haven’t seen either of them.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Parker leapt behind a counter as the round from Miranda’s Beretta buzzed past his head.
He’d had a bellyful of flying object whizzing around him by now. He’d had to fight his way through no less than three halls of spinning Ninja stars and shooting flames and swinging scythes before he’d found this lab.
His suit was in tatters and his body felt just as shredded. But that was nothing compared to the terror of what he saw before him now. It was another trap. The most vicious and sadistic one of all.
As he stared at her in shock, his heart crumbled like an imploded building.
Miranda stood behind the counter of this lab aiming her gun at his heart. She had a bruise on her cheek and blood on her suit. She’d been fighting, but she’d lost.
Behind her stood a wicked looking chair. Some sort of place where Iwasaki subdued his victims, no doubt.
Parker could see by the glazed look in her eyes, Miranda had been his latest one.
Iwasaki had gotten to her. He’d given her that damn potion. Scopolamine. And whatever hallucinogenics were mixed with it. God only knew what it had done to her brain. She was the love of his life. He couldn’t lose her like this. He wanted to tear Iwasaki apart for doing this to her.
But he knew he had to focus or she’d kill him soon.
She was coming around the counter now. She walked with slow, deliberate steps. Her eyes moved unnaturally, as if she was seeing only a half of what was before her.
Zombie brain, Fry had called it. His gut twisted inside him at the thought.
He pressed his back against the bottom of the counter. A wooden stool hid him partially from view.
He tried not to breathe, but she must have heard him anyway. The drug hadn’t lessened her keen abilities. She aimed and fired, blasting a hole in the wall not three inches from his head.
He had to do something now.
He grabbed onto the stool and swung it across the floor, aiming for her legs. If he could knock her down, there might be enough time to get to her before she fired again.
As if she sensed it coming, she stepped to the right, almost dodging it. It slammed against one leg, stunning her just long enough for Parker to draw out his Glock. He couldn’t reach her in time. This was the only way.
Hating himself, his heart sinking into quicksand, he rose and took aim.
He had to be accurate. If he wasn’t he could hit an artery or worse. Once more she raised her gun.
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, weapons pointed at each other.
Parker lined up his sights with the edge of her arm.
Before she could pull the trigger again, his jaw set, he fired.
The shot was good. It hit her just where he needed it to, grazing her upper arm.
With a look of shock, she stumbled back, but she didn’t drop her gun.
He holstered his Glock and rushed toward her.
Pushing her back, he wedged her against the wall.
She fought him hard. She had always been a good fighter and was even better after being with the Agency, but he could subdue her. He hoped. Still, he winced as she kicked against the cuts on his legs.
“No. No,” she murmured, as if half asleep.
Patiently he wrestled the Beretta out of her hand, enduring her kicks and punches. He’d endured enough of them through her many nightmares. Her eyelids were closed now. Beneath them, her eyes moved back and forth in a REM-like state.
He could only image the horrors playing through her mind now. She must think he was Leon. Or Tannenburg.
“Miranda,” he said softly. “It’s me.”
“No!” She kept on fighting him.
But he had her gun now.
Pressing her hard into the corner, he pinned her with his hips and legs. He slipped her weapon into his pocket and removed the amber bottle he’d taken from the lab before they left the Agency tonight.
It was a miracle it hadn’t been smashed to pieces by now, but it was intact.
He placed his elbows against the walls on either side of her head and held the bottle over her. Her hands beat against his arms, making it hard to hold onto it. Her head rolled back and forth as she snapped at his arms with her teeth.
It would be a trick to get the liquid into her mouth. Especially if she bit him. And if he dropped the bottle—
Struggling to escape his hold, she pressed her hips against his, arousing desire and urgency within him. Most inappropriate feelings at such a time.
But his mind went back to the first time he’d sparred with her in the Agency gym. They had ended up on the mat doing much more than sparring. He remembered dropping her off at her apartment the next evening and pressing her against the column outside her front door, need nearly consuming him. A little like now.
He glanced up at the bottle and thought about Fry’s warning.
It was the only way.
As steadily as he could, he twisted the lid off the bottle, filled the dropper full and put it to his mouth.
He squeezed three large drops onto the tip of his tongue and pressed his lips hard against Miranda’s. He forced his tongue into her mouth and delivered the dose, stroking the sweetness of her until his breath grew ragged and he could barely stand it any longer.
Praying the mixture would work, he continued his assault.
She grunted and growled into his mouth, trying to escape, but after a moment the blows against his arms and legs grew softer. He felt her muscles loosen. At last the grunts melted into a moan of desire. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
She was here again. She was coming back to him. The potion had worked. Thank God. Oh, how he’d love to make love to her right now.
But they had to get out of this dreadful place.
He forced himself to pull away from her and watched her eyes open. They were normal now. That gorgeous vivid blue and those deep dark lashes that had captured his heart the first time he saw her.
She blinked and frowned at him as if waking from a dream. “What are you doing here, Parker?”
“Giving you what you needed.” He stepped back and twisted the stopper back onto the bottle.
Miranda stared at the amber vial in Parker’s hands, confused images racing through her mind. “Was I—? Did I—?”
Then she saw his suit. It was cut to pieces. Parts of it were hanging off him. He was bleeding. “Did I do that?”
“Our host did that,” he said darkly.
Host. Iwasaki.
She glanced around at the room. Her breath turned shallow. “That chair. He put me in it. Did he use that stuff on me?”
Parker’s solemn look was enough to tell her the truth.
“That bastard.” She patted her waist. “Where’s my gun?”
“Unfortunately, I had to take it from you, my dear.” He pulled it out of his pocket.
Her eyes went round. “Did I—try to shoot you?”
He held the gun out to her. “You’re better now.”
She put her hands to her face. “I tried to shoot you like Audrey did Holloway? Oh, my God.”
She couldn’t believe it. What was in that potion that could make her want to hurt Parker? She put a hand to her head. It ached in a way it never had before. For a moment, she thought she might heave.
Then she remembered being in that chair and Iwasaki telling her what he was going to do to her.
She snatched the gun from Parker’s hand and stuffed it into her waistband. She’d find him and make him sorry for everything he’d done.
“I haven’t had any luck finding Audrey or Curt,” Parker said, eyeing her carefully.
He was worried about her condition, but she felt fine now.
“Me, either. I found Rebecca Duncan’s body, though.”
He nodded grimly. “We need to find a way out of here and get to Erskine. We need more manpower to scour this fortress thoroughly.”
“I’ll never forgive Holloway for leading us down here.”
She pulled her hair away from her face, wondering how they were going to find him. Then she heard a back door close at the far end of the room.
Iwasaki.
Her whole body came alert. “That sonofabitch was here, watching us.”
“So it seems.”
She stepped around Parker and took off.
“Miranda,” he said, caution in his tone.
She couldn’t wait. Ignoring his warning, she scrambled across the room, past that awful chair, to the door. She had to get that guy.
She pressed a button on the wall, and the back door slid open to a well-lit corridor. She ran down the passage until she reached an elevator. Was this the way she’d come in?
Who knew?
She banged on the button until the elevator opened. Parker was just coming around the far corner.
“I’m going to the top,” she cried as the doors closed before her.
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br /> She pressed the inside button, and the elevator deposited her in the golden circular chamber where she’d come in. She slammed down the latch on the reinforced steel exit door and was relieved when it opened for her. She raced through the brick passage with the arched ceiling, hurried up the concrete stairs, climbed the ladder, and found the hatch that led to the outside.
She pushed it open and breathed in fresh air. She climbed out and got her bearings.
The sun hadn’t risen yet and the bright moon was low in the sky. Blinking hard, she could just make out a figure rustling through the leaves toward the hill at the far end of the property.
It was Iwasaki, all right. The coward was running away.
Not if she could help it. She pulled her Beretta from her waistband and steadied the sights. He was moving fast and her vision was still a little blurry, but she didn’t have time to second guess herself.
She aimed and fired.
Dirt and leaves flew up near his kneecap. She’d missed.
Try again.
But he’d stopped. Turning back toward her, he raised his hand, his own gun in it.
This time she aimed for his chest. Standoff? She thought. Not with this guy. Whoever fired first would win.
That was going to be her. She pulled the trigger.
Click.
She was out of ammo.
Still peering through her sights, she could just make out the corner of Iwasaki’s lip as it turned up in satisfaction. She watched him steady his weapon.
Hit the ground, she thought. But before she could, a loud blast rocked the air. Iwasaki’s body jerked to the side and went limp. He dropped the gun, fell to the ground, and rolled down the hill covered in leaves.
Parker? She turned her head. No, not Parker.
Standing ten feet away from her with his Sig still extended, was the brown suit and tall lanky frame of Curt Holloway.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Miranda watched one of the SWAT officers who’d come around to the back of the ruins at the sound of gunfire. He was on the hill, examining Iwasaki’s body. Another officer was climbing the hill to the spot where they’d found the camouflage-colored jeep.
Holloway shuffled through the leaves and stood before her and Parker, who had climbed out of the manhole just in time to witness his feat.
Mind Bender Page 20
