Endgame (Last Chance Series)

by Dee Davis

  Gabe sucked in a breath, and fought for control of his voice. "Did you find her?"

  "No." Harrison sounded apologetic, and he rushed to finish before Gabe could hang up. "Look, I don't know how this will impact things, but I thought you should go up there armed with all the facts."

  "What did you find out?" Gabe started to walk again, his pace just short of a run, still intent on reaching Madison.

  "I found the link we were looking for. The CEO of Bluemax was Kingston Sinclair's son. I don't know if that makes Kingston our killer or not, but I thought you ought to know."

  "I thought you said the man's name was something else."

  "It was. Apparently he used his mother's name. There's not a lot there. Father and son were estranged for years, but rumor has it that Kingston helped with the funding for Bluemax. That's how I tracked it down initially—" Harrison stopped suddenly as someone grabbed the phone.

  "Gabriel?" Payton's voice was just this side of alarmed. "You need to hurry. I sent the NYPD to Kingston's and he's not there, but they found the sniper rifle. And, at least on surface examination, it fits the ballistics for Jeremy's murder. I don't know where he is, but if he's at Madison's she could be in trouble. We're on the way. But you're closer."

  Gabriel started to run again, still clutching the phone, not bothering to hang up. Three blocks to go—he just prayed there was still time. He'd only just found her, and he'd be damned if he was going to lose her now.

  *****

  "I TRIED TO DO THIS BEFORE, you know. Twice in fact." His eyes were slightly unfocused, the sheen of sweat on his brow indicating he wasn't as calm as he'd have her believe.

  "What do you mean?" She asked, playing for time, trying to figure out how to get to the foyer and her gun.

  "The first time was in the operations room. Do you remember? I closed the blinds. I intended to do it then, but that computer boy interrupted." He frowned, and took a step toward her, and she forced herself to hold her ground. "But I heard you say you were going to Jeremy's. So I followed you there, and waited in the apartment across the way. It should have gone down easy, but you moved faster than I'd expected. And then Gabriel Roarke showed up." He spat the name out as if it tasted bitter. "You're a lucky girl. But I'm afraid your luck has finally run out."

  "Your son was the CEO of Bluemax. That's why you killed the others. An eye for an eye." It was all starting to make perfect sense—in an insane kind of way. But then that was the type of mind Madison was used to dealing with.

  "Right answer, wrong quotation. The gods visit the sins of the fathers upon the children. Euripides. They took my son, so I took theirs."

  "But why me? My father had nothing to do with Vrycom." As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew the answer. "Cullen. This is about Cullen, isn't it?"

  Kingston shrugged. "He has no children, but he loves you like a daughter. The loss will be as great."

  "But it won't bring back your son."

  His eyes hardened, clarity returning with a vengeance. "No, it won't. But I can at least assuage my anger and exact a bit of revenge."

  "Like you did with the others." She was staring down the barrel of a gun, and still she wanted a confession. If the situation hadn't been so dire, she'd have laughed.

  "I killed them all. And I wouldn't have been discovered if it hadn't been for Cullen's meddling. That's when I decided to bring you in. Make things a little more personal. I was the one who convinced Cullen that you should be a part of his famous Last Chance team. And I was the one who kept them running in circles."

  "With a little inside help. Did you know about Nigel?"

  His smile was slow. "Nice bit, that. At first I didn't know who it was. But then when I realized where his loyalties lay, it made sense. And quite honestly, I couldn't have recruited a better partner. Poor bastard had no idea how much he was helping me."

  "You killed Schmidt."

  "Yes. I had to. If you'd found him alive, he'd have screamed his innocence, and with a little digging you'd have been able to verify the fact. It wasn't part of the plan, but I couldn't afford to take the chance."

  "But in killing him, you risked discovery."

  "Believe me, my dear, no one on your little team is going to connect the dots. It's too obscure."

  "Gabriel will figure it all out. He's close to the truth now. He'll catch you in the end."

  "Doesn't matter to me. All I ever wanted was to avenge my son. And with your death, I'll have completed the task."

  He leveled the gun, and she heard the click as he sent a bullet to the chamber, the sound indicating that she had mere seconds to move. The obvious thing was to dive for cover, but then she'd still have the disadvantage of his being armed and her not. Her weapon was still lying in the foyer, the fifteen feet or so she'd have to travel to retrieve it a death trap.

  Better to immobilize the threat. And it was now or never.

  Without waiting to analyze further, she dived for Kingston, feeling a bullet tip through her shoulder before she even heard the hissed report. As she crashed into him, she swung her arm upward trying to dislodge the gun.

  They fell to the ground, each struggling for control, and Madison grabbed his right wrist, slamming it hard on the floor. The gun, finally freed, spun off to the left, and slid under the open drapes. Not much help, but at least it leveled the playing field.

  Kingston was surprisingly fit for a man his age, his maneuvering a sign that he'd studied martial arts somewhere along the way. Wrapping his arm around her neck, he managed to lever them both to their feet, her body locked against his.

  Swinging backward with her left leg, she hooked it around his knee, simultaneously swinging her elbow back into his diaphragm. The quick release of breath signaled that she'd hurt him, and she took full advantage of the moment, twisting free, scrambling toward the window and the gun.

  But Kingston was faster, grabbing her hair and yanking her back to her feet, his fist making contact with her chin. Her vision swam for a moment, but she managed to turn and get in a blow of her own, the contact sending her adrenaline rushing.

  Locked together, they did a macabre dance around the living room, each of them trying to maneuver toward the gun lying beneath the drapes. She tried again to bring him to his knees, but he twisted his hands in her hair, yanking back her head with enough force to make her dizzy.

  Ignoring the pain in her head and shoulder, she kicked out again, making contact with his knee. The pop was audible, and he screamed in pain, falling backward, his hold on her tightening as he continued to fall.

  Their combined weight shattered the window and Kingston slid through the broken glass, pulling her with him. For a moment she felt weightless, and then as she grabbed for a handhold on the windowsill, Kingston's body pulled taut as his fall was broken by his grasp on her calves.

  The pain in her shoulder was searing, and her left hand slipped, causing her to list to the right. Kingston's grip loosened slightly with the surprise of the movement, and she took advantage of the fact, regaining her grasp on the window and kicking her legs against his hold.

  One hand released her, and closing her eyes in concentration she slammed her right leg against the side of the building, taking his hand with her. He yelped in pain but held firm, his other hand trying to find purchase. Again she swung her legs, this time both of them, the impact against the building sending shards of hot pain searing through her body.

  But the result was worth it. Kingston screamed again and then released her, the relief of the reduced weight on her arms making her feel suddenly stronger. Holding herself as still as possible, she looked down in time to see him shatter the atrium window below, his body impaling itself on the point of the statuary adorning the fountain.

  Kingston Sinclair was dead.

  And unless she found a way to get herself back over the sill, she was going to follow suit. Her shoulder was strained beyond the point of endurance, and she could feel the muscle beginning to shake, the fingers of her left hand starti
ng to go numb.

  She tried to pull herself upward, but her left arm simply wasn't following her brain's command. She could see people moving in the gym below, but by the time they reached her it would be too late.

  There were no balconies on this side of the building. Nothing protruding that might serve as a ledge to break her fall. The windows on either side of her were closed tightly and probably too far away to reach even if they were open.

  The cold wind whistled around the building, and she felt her hand start to give way. She was out of options, and the only thing she could think about was the fact that she wouldn't see Gabriel again. Wouldn't be able to make things right, to make certain he understood how very much she loved him.

  Her left hand slipped farther, the bulk of her weight now pulling against her right hand. She swallowed her fear, knowing that it was an enemy, and that if she was going to use these last few moments productively she had to keep a clear head.

  Fear helped her hang on longer than she'd have thought possible, but she could feel the blood dripping down her arm, and knew that her left arm was soon going to be completely useless, and that her right arm simply wasn't capable of supporting her entire body as she hung from the sill.

  People were screaming below her now, pointing upward, watching with the horrified fascination that comes from realizing the inevitable and knowing there is nothing one could do about it.

  She gave one last attempt at getting her left hand to perform, the fingers responding to the effort by releasing the sill altogether.

  She wanted to continue fighting, but she simply didn't have the strength....

  Something grabbed her free hand, her heart registering the reality before her brain, and she shot a look upward, expecting angels but finding Gabriel instead.

  He grasped both of her wrists, the determination on his face beyond anything she'd ever seen. "Hang on," he mouthed and began to inch her upward. Her brain finally clued in to the situation, and using her feet, she helped him "walk" her up the wall, until she was halfway in the window, and with a final jerk, he pulled her over the sill and onto the floor.

  Their hearts beat in tandem as Madison enjoyed the simple act of breathing, not even the pain in her arms and shoulder dimming the pleasure of the process.

  "You all right?" Gabriel had rolled over to cradle her in his arms, his hands stroking and exploring, trying to assess the damage.

  She nodded, smiling up at him, content for the moment just to be in his arms. "I thought you'd never get here."

  His smile was crooked and endearing, the love in his eyes humbling and exciting all at the same time. "I thought you didn't want my help."

  "I guess I changed my mind." She leaned up to kiss him, savoring the feel of his lips against hers, knowing that, no matter the obstacles, they belonged together.

  Now and for always.

  EPILOGUE

  "HERE'S TO MY GODDAUGHTER." Cullen Pulaski refilled Madison's glass with champagne, and she smiled up at him lovingly. He'd certainly made sure she had the very best. A private hospital room with a view of New York that rivaled the best apartments.

  Harrison and Payton stood on one side of the bed, while her father and Cullen stood at the end. Gabriel sat on the opposite side, holding her as close as her cast would allow. The surgery on her arm had been a success, and with physical therapy and some TLC she'd soon be good as new.

  "Here's to Last Chance, Inc." Madison held her glass high. "We might have been slow out of the gate, but you have to admit it was a hell of a finish."

  "A bit too close for me," Gabriel said, pulling her closer, his breath teasing her hair.

  Harrison raised his glass, echoing both sentiments. His gaze met Madison's, the relief there almost palpable. "I'm just glad you're here for the celebration."

  "Me, too." Her whispered response brought a cluck of concern from her father. He'd flown back from Belgium as soon as he'd heard, and wouldn't have left her side for a minute if Gabriel hadn't insisted they be allowed at least a few minutes alone now and then.

  "Well, it's all in the past now," Cullen said. "The summit is on, the negotiations occurring even as we speak. If things continue going so well, I fully expect a signed agreement by the end of the week."

  "So a winning situation all the way around." As usual there was a mocking edge to Payton's voice, but his smile was genuine.

  "I still don't understand how Kingston was able to manage the variations in M.O.," Harrison said, reaching for the champagne to refill his glass.

  "That one's actually pretty easy," Payton said. "Turns out Kingston did two tours in 'Nam. One as a sharpshooter, and the other in medevac. So his skills covered the gamut. And especially in the beginning, he had the element of surprise. The victims trusted him."

  "Well, it's over now," Madison's father said, with a wave of his glass. "That's all that really matters."

  "Yeah, time to get back to our real jobs," Harrison concurred. "I don't know about you guys, but I've got a pile of work waiting for me."

  "Not us," Gabriel said, shooting her a wicked smile. "We're set for a little R & R. Right after I get her to the justice of the peace. I'm thinking Hawaii, or maybe a deserted island in the Pacific somewhere."

  "As long as there aren't any cell phones," Madison agreed, laughing, her heart soaring at the thought of spending the rest of her life with Gabriel.

  "I'm still miffed I won't be here for the wedding," Payton frowned playfully.

  "It's not our fault you got called off to the wilds of South America," Gabriel said, his expression turning serious. South America was all Payton had been willing to divulge of his next assignment, and they really weren't even certain he was telling that much truth, but Madison knew she had to be content with not knowing. Payton would always have secrets, but he would also always have a place in her heart.

  "I don't know that any of you should be making those kinds of plans just yet."

  Almost in unison the four of them frowned at Cullen, suspicion raising its ugly head.

  Cullen took in their expressions, and answered with a benign smile. "It's not my fault you all did such a bang-up job. And it isn't my fault that the president called this morning to say that there's been a bit of a problem at the border. Something to do with a Mexican cartel. DEA's been on it for years with no success."

  "Don't tell me," Gabriel said dryly, his gaze meeting Madison's. "It's a 'last chance' situation, and no one else is equipped to handle it like we are."

  Cullen's smile broadened, his eyes twinkling with the success of a battle won. "Exactly."

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  Enigma!

  Enigma

  Waleska, Georgia

  ONE MORE JILTED LOVER pissed off at being dumped. At least that's the way it seemed to be playing out. Unfortunately, the jilter knew his way around bombs, and the jiltee was a preschool teacher.

  Which meant a hell of a problem. And to make matters worse, Frank Ingram, the rejected suitor, had swallowed a bullet less than an hour ago. A neighbor had found the body and the note. That was about the only break they'd caught so far.

  The device, located in a second floor classroom of the First Baptist Preschool, was attached to a motion detector. Too much vibration and it was all over. Which of course meant there could be no evacuation. And very little access to the bomb.

  The only reason the thing hadn't already detonated was the fact that the classroom where it had been placed wasn't currently being used. A small quantity of mold had been found beneath an air-conditioning unit, and until the sample could be tested, the children had been removed from the room.

  Which left Samantha Waters with two scenarios. Either the bomber hadn't been aware of the mold, or he wasn't really interested in killing anyone. Considering the alleged lethal nature of the device, and the fact that the room was normally occupied by the woman he'd wanted dead, Sam was opting for th
e former. And thanking her lucky stars. If not for the mold, she'd be picking through the body parts of toddlers instead of trying to figure out how to evacuate them.

  The thought sent a bolt of anger coursing through her. She'd seen the aftermath of a day care blown to hell. It still haunted her dreams. And she'd be damned before she'd let the same thing happen here.

  There were three other classrooms in use on the second floor, one across from the room with the bomb and two down the hall. The staircase was at the opposite end of the building, which meant there was no way to use it.

  Because of the mold, the intended victim and her class had been working in a different room today, a twist of fate that probably saved her life, since the Cherokee County Fire Department had successfully evacuated everyone on that level. So Maggie Carmichael and the three-year-olds of Waleska were safe for the moment. But that left the rest of the children. And Sam didn't like their odds.

  Normally she wouldn't have been involved with a local situation, but she'd been returning from another case when she'd heard the radio dispatch. And quite frankly, she wasn't a sit-on-the-sidelines kind of girl.

  "We've evacuated everyone we can, and deployed the robot." The county bomb tech slid to a halt beside Sam, the fine glisten of sweat across his forehead a reflection of the slight tremor in his voice. Not that Sam blamed the man. He couldn't be more than about twenty, the fine stubble of his beard indication that he probably hadn't been shaving all that long.

  Most men volunteered for the bomb squad out of some sort of misguided testosterone-cowboy need to physically stand down the enemy. Unfortunately, the rush was the kind that induced incontinence, and more often than not, the bad guys won the day, the carnage in places like the World Trade Center and the Murrah building silent testimony to the fact.

  "There's a problem, though," the kid was saying, and Sam forced her attention back to the scene at hand. "In order to get the robot up there, it'll have to climb the stairs, and what with the age of the building and all, there's a good chance the clatter will set that sucker off before Max has a chance to make it halfway."