“Yeah, honey, it’s me,” I replied. “Where are you?”
“We’re at the hospital. University down on Kingshighway.”
“Good hospital,” I murmured. “So how are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “What about you then?”
“Tired and achy,” I admitted. “But still in one piece.”
“Aye, you’d best stay that way.”
“I don’t think I have much choice,” I told her. “The FBI has me sitting in the back of a panel van trussed up in a bulletproof vest with an agent right outside the door.”
“Good for them,” she answered. “Remind me to send a thank you card.”
I ignored her jibe. “How’s Constance?”
“Aye, it looks like she’ll be fine. The doctor didn’t want to tell me anything at first, but I convinced him I was her sister.”
“And he fell for that?” I asked. “You two don’t look anything alike.”
“Aye, and what’s your point then? We’re twin sisters from different parents.”
“Yeah, sure,” I half chuckled. “I can see that.”
“Anyway,” she continued. “She has a broken nose, a concussion, two broken ribs, and a fractured wrist. Most of it came from the airbag they think.”
“Guess it could’ve been worse if there wasn’t an airbag.”
“Aye.”
“So what about you?” I asked. “Did the doctor check you over?”
“Aye, I’m fine, bumps and bruises, nothing more. I’m mostly worried about you and Ben.”
“I’m good,” I told her. “Ben’s hand is really messed up though. Last time I saw him there was a paramedic looking at it for him. I suspect he’ll need a trip to the hospital before it’s all over. Have you called Allison?”
“Aye. She was frantic at first, but you know how she is. She’s a nurse. She’s used to this kind of thing, especially out of Ben.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So what IS going on there?” my wife asked, her voice turning serious as she left the chitchat behind. “I’ve been watching the television, but they aren’t saying much.”
“Well, they got me here in time to appease Porter,” I replied. “For the moment anyway. Right now, I’m sitting in the back of a van, like I said, and they keep interviewing me.”
“What for?”
“Looking for angles to use while negotiating with him.”
“Aye, do they actually believe they can negotiate with that monster, then?”
“Yeah, they do.”
“What about you?” she asked after a pause. “Do you think they can?”
“No,” I almost whispered. “No, I don’t.”
We both fell silent, neither of us willing to press forward with the conversation but neither willing to say goodbye either. The digitally reproduced sounds of each other’s breathing issuing from the phones became a tenuous connection between us—distant and artificial, but better than nothing.
My fearful thoughts combined with the hollowness in the pit of my stomach, and I became the first to break the lull. “You know he’s going to kill her no matter what, don’t you?”
“Row… Don’t say that,” Felicity appealed softly.
“He will,” I continued. “I can feel it.”
“Don’t you go and do something stupid, now,” she said. “Okay?”
I didn’t reply.
Her voice came at me again, “Rowan? Answer me.”
“Yeah,” I finally said. “Nothing stupid.”
“Caorthann…” Her voice was ringed by sadness and filled with resignation as she whispered the Gaelic pet name.
“Really, sweetheart,” I assured her. “Back of van, FBI, cops everywhere. I don’t think there’s anything I CAN do other than sit here.”
“Aye, but I know you.”
“They have a chapel there?” I asked, trying to divert her attention.
“I’m sure they do, why?”
“Maybe you should go light a candle for Star,” I offered.
Her reply told me that my gambit didn’t work as planned. “Aye, I think you mean I should go light a candle for you.”
There was no suitable reply that wouldn’t either confirm her fears or force me to lie to her. Remaining silent would just do the same. I said the only thing I could, “Maybe for both of us then.”
“Aye,” she whispered.
I knew that unchecked, we would continue to sit there clinging to the cellular thread that now linked us together in the physical world. As much as I wanted to give in to that comfort, I made the decision that I knew she wouldn’t.
“I’ve got to go, honey,” I said. “They’re going to want to start asking me some more questions in just a minute.”
“I love you, Rowan.”
I replied softly, “Yeah. I love you too.”
I pulled the cell phone away from my ear then allowed my hand to slide down across my chest and fall into my lap. Without looking, I depressed the end button and disconnected the line. Closing my eyes, I left my head tilted back and began wondering about the wisdom of having made the call.
I wanted to be certain that she was okay, and I wanted to get an update on Constance but that information had come at a price. I wasn’t foolish enough to think that Felicity believed for a minute that I would be standing idly by at this scene. Not with Star’s life resting in the hands of Eldon Porter. I was convinced she hadn’t even believed that when she made the decision to stay behind with Agent Mandalay. But she had come to terms with it.
My phone call may have served to do nothing more than open a wound. It very simply could have been an inadvertent reminder of the dangerous uncertainty that I faced—and my melancholy, a possible harbinger that Ben’s promise to her could well be broken. Dwelling on the fact officially made me feel worse than I had before I dialed the number.
I breathed in a deep lungful of the chilly air then tilted my head back forward and glanced over at the door on the rear of the van. It had been several minutes since Agent Kavanaugh had left to hand over the information to the rest of the HNT. Considering that I hadn’t given over anything of much relevance, at least in my eyes, I was beginning to worry. Something was taking far too long.
With the momentary diversion from my migraine gone by the wayside, the pain had returned full force, hammering away even harder than before. As I sat there, I felt a creepy wave of gooseflesh climb up my back until it reached the base of my neck. I shivered with a chill as the sensation traveled back down my spine then spread out through my body. I fell into an eerie state of semi-catatonic nothingness that made me feel sick to my stomach.
I jumped with a start and caught an outbound breath in my throat as my cell phone began pealing out the William Tell Overture in dull electronic tones. When my muscles tensed, the various bruises I had acquired reported in sharply then settled back into dull aches with unwavering loyalty to the task. I forced my body to relax and rolled my head as I allowed myself to continue exhaling.
“Oh yeah, you’re real stable, aren’t you?” I chastised myself aloud.
I turned the face of the phone up and inspected the screen, fully expecting to see the words “Felicity Cell” in a blocky, liquid crystal font. Instead, I was greeted with the words “New Number” and a string of unfamiliar digits.
I stared at the display for a moment as the refrain began bleeping out again and then punched the center button and brought the device upward.
“Rowan Gant,” I said.
“It is about time you turned on your phone, Gant.” Eldon Porter’s voice issued from the speaker. “I have been trying to reach you for almost an hour now.”
“So sue me, asshole,” I replied.
“I don’t think so,” he replied. “I would rather just kill you.”
“Same here,” I shot back. “So shouldn’t you be talking to the hostage negotiator?”
“Agent McCoy bores me,” he remarked. “All give and take, I did for you, now you do for me. It
is really very obvious that he does not see the point behind all of this.”
Each sentence chilled me even more than the frigid weather outside. His voice had returned to the flat, rehearsed tenor I had discussed with Agent Kavanaugh earlier. His sentences were overtly devoid of contractions and spoken with an air of self-anointed superiority. There was a purposeful calm about him—a frightening preparedness that struck me like a cold blade directly into my heart.
“And that point is?” I asked.
“I think you are well aware of that, Gant,” he replied.
“Yeah, just checking,” I quipped.
I knew from his tone there were literally no words from me that would keep him at bay. Not now. Not anymore. We were moving forward to the next phase.
I was wondering why the HNT hadn’t severed the connection by now. It took a few seconds for me to remember that this was the first time he had ever contacted me on my own cell, so it was a line they wouldn’t be monitoring.
Still, they knew about the two different cell phones he was using, so they should be on top of it, unless… A random idea flitted in from the left side of my brain to give me pause. If he had two cell phones, why couldn’t he have three? If he did, then chances were the HNT had no idea this call was even taking place.
“Well, whether he sees your point or not, he’s the only one who can negotiate with you,” I said. “So maybe I should just go get him.”
“I would not do that if I were you, Gant,” he answered coldly. “My negotiations with them are finished. This is between the two of us and no one else.”
My heart thumped in my throat, and I felt my adrenal gland begin pumping again. The waiting game had reached its end whether the FBI liked it or not, and it was all about to be over before they could turn to the next page in the playbook.
I was wrong. This wasn’t moving into the next phase. It was jumping directly to the end game.
I forced myself upward and barely missed clanging the back of my head on an equipment rack as I stumbled. I twisted to the side and started moving toward the back of the van. Agent Kavanaugh had said there would be someone right outside. My mind began racing, searching for a way to get that agent’s attention without tipping off Porter.
I realized I had to keep him talking, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. “So what did you call me for, Eldon?”
“I have a question for you, Gant,” he said.
“What’s that, Eldon?”
What I got back in reply was nothing short of a lit match pressed firmly against my already short fuse.
“How loud do you think I will be able to make your wife scream?”
CHAPTER 37:
I felt my face grow hot as repressed anger was released directly into my veins alongside the rushing adrenalin. My free hand balled into a solid fist, and at the same time, I heard the tight squeak of my skin against hard plastic as my other hand involuntarily attempted to crush the cell phone.
“You’re dead, Eldon,” I growled through clenched teeth. “Understand me? You are dead.”
“How bad do you want to kill me?” He spoke the question with the same nonchalance as someone asking for the correct time.
I snarled my retort, “I think I made that clear enough.”
He began his reply in an imperious voice. “Do you think you can get to me…”
“Not with cops everywhere,” I spat. “And you can bet that’s the only thing keeping you alive right now, you bastard.”
“I was not finished, Gant.”
“Ask me if I care.”
“You do.”
“I doubt it.”
“Now,” he began again. “What I was going to say is this: Do you think you can get to me before Miss Sullivan’s sentence has been duly and properly executed?”
His words struck me with as much force as a punch square to the jaw.
“You said this was between you and me!” I barked.
“Second floor, Gant. How fast are you?” he asked, then without waiting for an answer he pronounced, “Thou shalt not suffer a Witch to live.”
“Porter!” I shouted.
Stealth was no longer an issue. I bolted for the back of the van, and in my haste, my hand missed the latch on the door as I threw myself against it. The sound of my shoulder thudding against the metal struck first and was followed immediately by the physical jolt vibrating through my frame.
Desperation-induced clumsiness was doing everything in its power to impede my progress as I fumbled with the lever. I felt my hand connect and pushed heavily downward on the latch then leaned into the door once again.
Sound was buzzing in the earpiece of the phone the whole time. Porter’s self-righteous voice continued rattling against my eardrum with sickening clarity. “Wherefore, since you, Millicent Renee Sullivan, are fallen into the damned heresies of Witches…”
“He’s doing it!” I was screaming even as the door was beginning to open. “He’s getting ready to…”
The rest of the words caught in my throat as an icy blast of wind hit me in the face. The door was swinging wide in surrender to my attack, and my momentum kept me moving forward. My stomach leapt then fell with an odd, tickling sensation as a split second of weightlessness struck. It was only then I realized I had launched myself into nothingness. I felt myself pitching forward and began to flail my arms in an attempt to regain my balance, but it was too late. My exit was anything but graceful as I completely missed the step and stumbled down to the wet pavement.
I’m still not entirely certain which event in the quartet came first: me hitting the asphalt, the intense flash of light, the wildly screeching siren, or the deafening explosion. In retrospect, it didn’t really matter; they were all so close together that for all intents and purposes, they were one and the same.
The cell phone popped out of my hand and skittered a few feet away on the street as I rolled. Chaos was the only word I could use to describe the scene before me as everyone’s attention was directed away from the building. On the tiered parking lot above us, a squad car was warbling out every emergency tone in its arsenal of noises. Every source of illumination on the vehicle, from light bar to headlights, was flashing. The windshield was a shattered maze, and the driver’s side windows were completely missing. Smoke was rolling upward from the openings, and an orange glow was filling the passenger cabin.
I had absolutely no idea what had happened. My mind was paging through scenarios, attempting to wedge the few available pieces of the puzzle into place, but every picture I imagined seemed far from likely.
I scrambled across the slush for the cell phone and placed the wet device against my ear as soon as I clamped my hand on it. Though I had to strain to hear him over the background insanity, Porter’s voice was still bleeding from the earpiece with ominous portent, “…Have refused the medicine of your salvation, we have summoned…”
“NO!” I screamed.
I dragged myself up to my feet and wheeled around, looking for the federal agent who was supposed to be posted outside the van but found no one. All attention was still focused on the bedlam surrounding the patrol car. I wheeled around, looking for anyone I could but again found not a soul anywhere nearby. Everyone seemed to be converging on the raucous patrol car.
“…away and seduced by a wicked spirit…” Porter continued.
I had heard these very words from him before, and I knew them well. The recitation was an official proclamation of Star’s guilt and final sentence. He would be following immediately with her execution. Even with the pomp and circumstance of the pronouncement, there would be no time to wait. He had already begun; she was going to be dead in less than a minute.
The dark, prophetic sensation that had been plaguing me was now a set of icy fingers clawing at my throat. I felt myself moving forward with deliberate intent. The doorway of the building seemed an almost unattainable objective in the distance, but it loomed clear in my sight, beckoning me.
By the time I took my f
ifth step, I was at a dead run.
“MISTER GANT!” I heard Agent Kavanaugh’s voice in the distance behind me, but I didn’t stop.
Figures I had not previously noticed were now coming out of the shadows as I barreled through the SWAT perimeter. These men had been the only ones not completely diverted from their mission by the insanity on the parking lot above. Still, they were staged at a distance from the entrance and focused on impending entry into the building. Whether by pure luck, the situation, or fate alone, I was yards ahead before I began to hear their shouts.
“GODDDAMIT, ROWAN!” I picked out Ben’s voice bellowing from within the jumble of others that were ordering me to stop.
My cell phone flew from my hand as my arms pumped in unison with my legs. I was starting to wheeze as cold air rushed in and out of my lungs. I wasn’t in the best of shape to begin with, but the bulk of the flak vest and my coat weren’t helping either.
My knees were complaining, and a sharp chill was biting into my leg where my pants had soaked up wetness from the slush on the street. I ignored the pains that were vying for attention throughout my body and pushed myself forward. I could hear the clamor of footsteps behind me and felt a momentary wave of relief. I couldn’t stop to tell anyone what was happening, but if they followed me in, that would be good enough.
I launched myself over the low curb and on my first stride was across the narrow sidewalk. With far more agility than I had displayed exiting the van, I hit the low stairs and propelled myself past two of the three and directly onto the landing. I threw a forearm up in front of my face and allowed the inertia I had built up to coil into my body as I hit the door.
The barrier was already unlatched, and the force with which I struck caused it to fling wide, impact an interior wall, then bounce back. I thrust my arm out to the side and caught the door before it could hammer back into my face then drove inward through the darkness.
I was already several steps into the building before I began to slow. I could hear a gathering commotion through the door behind me, but thus far I was the only one who had entered. Part of me wanted to wait for the SWAT team to catch up, but I knew that there was no time.
The Law Of Three: A Rowan Gant Investigation Page 30
