And now, she was the only one whom Cat hadn’t noticed. Janey had managed to slip away while Jessalyn’s mom was distracted, and now she was creeping up behind her.
The problem was, Janey had gotten rid of the trophy. She could knock Cat over the head with Popeye, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to do much.
It didn’t matter, though. She had to do something. There was no way she was going to sit back and let the world burn without at least trying.
Besides, if she was trying to be the kind of detective Darc would be proud of, it was time to act like it. What would he do if he were here?
The lines of color branched out in multiple threads, giving her options. Run away… not going to happen. Try to fight… too small. But there was one that presented itself to her that seemed to fall into place.
It was a long shot. But even though the chances of it working were small, it also felt like the only choice that was really her.
There would only be one try. If she failed, all of their lives could end because of it. Of course, there wouldn’t be anyone left to rub it in her face, so there was that.
Popeye stopped his gibbering for a second to tell her that he’d haunt her just to make sure somebody did. Great. At least her bear would be there to make her feel bad.
She swallowed and stepped forward.
It was time to do this.
* * *
Mala heard it.
It was small. Subtle. Something you wouldn’t recognize if you weren’t already searching for it.
Janey’s footstep.
There was no way of knowing for sure, but Mala was almost certain that Janey had done it on purpose. The perfect step. She was letting Mala know she was there without alerting Cat.
What would Janey do? She was capable of so much. But in a situation like this, where everything hinged on getting it right with one chance to do so, she would be wise. That described Mala’s little girl more than anything else.
Wise.
Janey wasn’t large or strong, physically speaking, but she was whip-smart. And she could see everything that was going on in the space.
It would be an assist, and Mala thought she knew just what it would be. She braced herself for what was about to come, preparing her body for the exact moment.
And then it came.
Cat’s knees buckled out from under her. Janey had gone right for the target that was closest to her, just as Mala had thought she would.
As her captor lost her balance, Mala threw her head back, catching Cat right in face. The pain in Mala’s collarbone nearly made her pass out, but Cat’s grip slackened. Mala wrenched herself out of the strong woman’s embrace and dove for the desk under which the gun had fallen.
Wrapping her hand around the grip, Mala twisted, feeling her entire body protest in agony. But the muzzle of the pistol pointed right at Cat as she stood, blood gushing from her nose.
Shaking her head, droplets of red splattering to the floor, Cat began to move forward. “It doesn’t matter. I was already planning to die.”
Mala fired, aiming for Cat’s shoulder. The woman jerked back, her face pulled into a snarl, but then kept coming.
“Don’t!” Trey screamed out, but Mala fired again, striking her friend in the other shoulder.
This time Cat fell to her knees, and Mala was up with the gun pointed at her head. This woman had betrayed her, had tried to kill not just Mala, but everyone Mala knew. She deserved to die.
“Please don’t,” Trey said, placing himself between Mala’s gun and the intended target kneeling there.
“Why not?” Mala asked.
Trey took a deep breath and stretched out his hand to take the gun from Mala. Then he pointed at the computer, where the numbers were rapidly counting down to zero. And there, above displays for the drones, a place for a password that could stop the clock.
“Because we need her.”
* * *
Above the thumping rotations of the chopper’s blades, Darc could hear a high-pitched whine. It was nothing that anyone else would be able to perceive, but Darc’s array of colored bands separated and interpreted the sound.
It was the approaching drones.
“Please,” Darc heard the Master plead. “Please. You need to listen to me. The plan--”
“The plan?” one of the disciples barked. “You mean your plan to leave us here to die?”
But another man turned on the first. “It’s the cleansing. You knew this needed to happen. Stop fighting it.”
Darc lifted his voice once more. “Your leader leaves you to die, but he himself lives? Explain the logic in that.”
“He lives so he can continue the fight against corruption,” cried a woman, her face contorted in rage.
But the pillars of light and dark whispered to Darc. She would not be angry if she were not afraid that Darc was correct.
“He does not need to live,” he responded to her. “The message of this day will ring forth without his interference.”
“No!” Merle rumbled. “Don’t listen to him! I need to be there. To guide the conversation. To help the people to see--”
“How will he explain his miraculous escape?” Darc asked. “During the time in which he is there, guiding the conversation?”
The crowd began to press forward, moving toward Merle. The Master held up his hands, as he backed up toward the wall.
“Remember why we do this,” he hissed, pointing out at the city. “Look around you and see why we do this.”
The sound of the approaching helicopter grew, and Darc watched as it descended toward the roof of the building. Merle waved at the approaching aircraft, motioning for it to come down to his location.
Darc felt a tugging at his hands that were bound behind him. All of the disciples had their attention turned toward the Master and the helicopter that was coming down to take him away. Who was this?
Turning his head, he caught sight of Carly’s face. She grinned at him.
“You guys all left me.” Her smirk turned sour for a moment. “I go check out the new baby, and everyone takes off. I was so pissed off. At all of you.”
The black ties inside of Darc resonated with her statement. Abandonment was all she knew. That had to have been devastating for her.
“But then I thought about Janey. Janey would never leave me. So I knew something had to be up.” Carly held up her cell phone, showing Darc an app that was open, a tiny red point showing their current location. “Mala installed this on my phone after I was kidnapped, so she could know where I was. In case I needed rescuing again.”
Darc felt her finish with his bindings, and all of a sudden his hands were free. Moving his fingers, he felt the blood return to them.
“She programmed yours and Trey’s phones into it, too. I figured turnabout was fair play.” She nodded toward Merle. “Now go take care of this.”
He nodded at her, then turned to face his superior officer.
It was time to end the game.
* * *
Mala propelled the bleeding Cat toward the desk in front of the computer.
“Help us stop this,” she begged her friend. “For Jessalyn. For Janey. For me.”
“You still don’t understand.” Cat turned to Mala and gave her a wistful smile. I’m doing it for them. For you. For all of us. Women. So we’ll never be hurt again.”
And at that, something Cat had said earlier fell into place. She had mentioned her ex-husband.
They’d never discussed it. Not once during their entire friendship. Mala hadn’t wanted to push, figuring Cat would tell her when she was ready.
Now Mala understood. Why Cat worked out so much. Why she had learned so much about self-defense and guns.
Why her favorite drink was vodka.
And she understood something else. She now knew why the Master had wanted her dead.
It was her skill set. What she could do that no one else could.
The Master’s network was built on ties of misery and sh
ame and fear. And those ties were ones that Mala knew how to unravel.
And she could do it in her sleep.
“Cat,” she said, “tell me about your ex.”
“Um, Mala?” Trey interrupted, pointing at the computer. “Have you looked at that counter?” The readout showed less than two minutes on the countdown.
She held up a hand to silence him. Because when she’d mentioned Cat’s ex-husband, her face had gone slack.
“What did he do to you?”
Cat shook her head back and forth, slowly. “No. No. I… Don’t make me tell you.”
Mala place her hand on Cat’s leg, staring deep into her eyes. “It’s okay, Cat. You don’t have to tell me, but you can if you want. It won’t be too much for me. I promise.”
“He… he was hurting me,” Cat said, her eyes filling with tears. “But I could handle that. But then…” She broke off, and stared at Mala, her eyes wide and haunted.
Mala finished the sentence for her. “Then he started hurting your daughter.”
Patterns of behavior were hidden in the psyche. And now Mala could see them. Why Jessalyn chose to make friends with Janey, who wouldn’t speak. Another broken girl, just like her.
Cat nodded. “How could he do that to our little girl?” Then her eyes dropped. “How could I let him?”
“But you didn’t,” Mala corrected her. “He isn’t hurting her any longer. You got out. You got yourself and your daughter away.”
“No I didn’t.”
Pain and shame radiated out of Cat’s eyes, heat off hot coals. Blistering. Dying.
This wasn’t just the story of an abused woman trying to end the cycle. This went deeper. Much deeper.
“Mala…” Trey’s voice, insistent in her ear.
She glanced at the screen… a minute left.
There was only one way to move forward here, and it was through the crippling agony and guilt. Mala reached out and held Cat’s hands that were slick with blood.
“What happened?”
“I tried to kill him,” Cat sobbed. “He deserved it. But he was so strong. So strong…”
“But you couldn’t do it?”
Mala’s friend shook her head. “He knocked the gun out of my hand. Backhanded me and started trying to break every bone in my body. Little Jess… she was so small…”
Tears wracked Cat’s wounded form, her sobs causing fresh gouts of blood to gush down her arms. The bleeding was profuse. Cat could die if she didn’t get medical attention soon. But her passing out was another danger.
“He hurt Jessalyn?” Mala prompted her.
Another nod. “Threw her across the room.” She took a trembling breath. “Right to where I had dropped the gun.”
Then Mala saw it. Saw where Cat had been burying her shame.
Cat hadn’t shot her husband. Jessalyn had shot her father.
And Cat blamed herself for all of it.
“Cat, listen to me,” Mala insisted. “I know that you think this is all your fault. It isn’t. This was him. Not you.”
“But don’t you see?” she pleaded. “I can make it better. All of it. I’ll die, but Jessalyn, she’ll be okay.”
The logic was twisted, but Mala understood it. She’d seen it many times before. Sometimes she had to deal with those crazy voices in her own head. Her daughter would be better off without her. But it was a lie.
And it wasn’t the only one. Now she saw the path forward.
Mala pointed to the screen. “Tell me what you see there,” she commanded Cat.
“The drone,” came the response.
“Not drone,” Mala corrected. “Drones. To take out the entirety of Seattle.”
Cat’s face became a mask of horror, and she leaned forward, reaching out to the keyboard. But the blood loss had been too great. There seemed to be no strength left in her to combat it any longer.
Slumping to side, Cat reached out her hands to Mala. “Please…”
“No.” Mala pulled Cat into her arms. “No, not now. Keep it together.”
“The password…” she began, then her eyes began to close once more.
“Come on!” Mala said, shaking her. “Cat, don’t do this.” She reared back, knowing it was a risk. One deep breath, then she prepared to slap Cat across the face.
Before she could do so, a small hand gripped hers. Janey.
Her little girl looked deep into Mala’s eyes and shook her head. Then she let go of Mala’s hand and placed her small hand on Cat’s cheek.
Cat eyes opened, then she gasped and sat up. She pulled Mala in close and whispered with a gasp.
“Ramses.”
The word landed deep in Mala’s consciousness. The Egyptian plagues. Fire raining down from the sky.
And the Pharaoh Ramses was the only one with the power to stop it.
The clock was speeding toward zero, and Mala turned and input the password. The clock stopped, and Mala, Trey and Janey all took a collective deep breath.
But Cat grabbed her arm, forcing Mala to look into her face. She forced the words out between clenched teeth.
“Take. Care. Of. Jess.”
Her eye glazed over, and all Mala wanted to do was to stay there with her friend. Her best friend. Her maid of honor.
The savior of Seattle.
* * *
The crowd parted around Darc as he moved toward the Master. No resistance whatsoever. Every eye turned to see what Darc would do as he neared the large form of his former boss, the captain of the precinct.
The helicopter had come in close, but with the people gathered around, there was no place to land. So it hovered above, next to the building, its doors open to receive the Master in his triumph.
But Darc had no intention of letting him go.
“You will not leave.”
Merle turned and faced Darc, his eyes narrowing. Then he looked around and saw all the set faces surrounding him. The reality of his situation seemed to hit home, and for a moment, Darc thought he saw real fear there.
But then a rope dropped down from the helicopter hovering above, and the Master smiled. He wrapped the cord around his wrist, securing himself to the waiting chopper.
“I don’t see how you’re going to stop me.”
He tugged on the rope. One time, hard.
And the helicopter began to rise, the large form of Captain Merle along with it.
Darc rushed forward, grabbing a hold of the Master’s torso. Calculations flashed through his mind. The force the helicopter could exert was far greater than what Darc could maintain through muscle strength and weight. There was no way for him to detain the Captain.
But immediately, Darc’s arms were joined by others. Men and women thrust in their hands and arms, gripping either somewhere on the Captain, or grabbing someone who already had a handhold.
The bodies mounted quickly, and the calculations shifted. Merle, who continued to rise in spite of the weight now attached to him, began to scream in pain.
His arm was caught in the loop of the rope.
More tension exerted by the chopper. More bodies added to the count. The helicopter stopped ascending, pausing for a moment.
Then, with a jerk, the helicopter took off, the rope trailing away behind it. The empty rope, devoid of the figure of Captain Merle.
His hand had been ripped off from his body.
The group crashed to the ground, all except for Darc and Merle. Darc landed sprawled over the railing, his hand still gripping one of the Master’s legs.
The Master himself dangled over the edge of the building.
Darc could feel his grip slipping, but he concentrated all of his strength. The darkness inside urged him to stop working so hard. To just let go.
The light spoke of a different story. The path to the place now occupied by Captain Merle. The place where one man became judge and jury over life itself.
His former commanding officer looked up, his face pale. “Darc. Don’t let go.”
“I will not,” he answered
, reaching down his other hand to grasp onto the only one the Master now possessed. The one the Captain now stretched up toward him.
But the hand was not empty.
It contained a knife that Merle stabbed upward, attempting to stab Darc right beneath his armpit. But Darc blocked the blow with his hand.
The one that had been holding the Captain’s leg.
Dawning realization crossed the Master’s face for a brief moment. Then he plummeted down to the ground. No scream. No outcry. Only the sick thud of his body striking the pavement below.
Darc turned away from the sight, and a body flung itself at him.
A small body. One of a child.
Janey.
He looked up and saw Mala standing there, tears shining in her eyes. She nodded once, and Darc knew.
It was over.
EPILOGUE
Janey couldn’t really remember all that happened after they found Darc on the roof. It was a blur of police and news reporters and medics.
But now they were outside Trey and Maggie’s. Both the mommy and the baby were home from the hospital, and Maggie was coming down for her first real walk.
Carly held onto Janey’s hand. She pretty much hadn’t let go since they’d found each other again. Every couple of seconds, Carly would reach over and touch Janey’s hair or her face or her shoulder. It was like she was making sure Janey was still there.
Popeye said it was weird, but Janey told him to hush up. It might be a little weird, but she thought it was sweet.
But for right now, she had something she wanted to do. She gave Carly a look and wiggled her hand free. Her sister seemed to understand, and, even though she didn’t seem happy about it, she let Janey go.
Skipping over to Darc and Mala, she wrapped her arms around both of them. Those two hadn’t really let go of each other, either. But then again, they were married.
Well, almost.
Mala smiled down at her, and Darc gave her a look. Then he did something she would never have expected. Darc reached down and ruffled her hair.
It gave her a flutter in her stomach, but it was a good one. Popeye said it was just gas, but Janey accidentally dropped him. Then he just started complaining about how clumsy she was. Better than gassy, as far as she was concerned.
The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin) Page 69
