by Liana Brooks
“Sure.” She eased back against the bulk of the dead machine. It was surprisingly cold for something that had sucked up so much energy.
Mac flicked the flashlight on, illuminating a smile. “Do you have that black-lace bra on, because if you do, I have this fantasy about—”
She kicked him with her good foot.
“What? I’ve always wanted to rescue a girl wearing a black-lace bra. Can’t a man dream?”
“Unlock me, MacKenzie.”
He dangled a set of keys in front of her. “Standard bureau-issue-cuff master key. I picked it up earlier this evening.”
“When?” She twisted her head to watch him unlock her arm.
Mac grimaced. “On my second trip to the office. Did you know the bureau armory doesn’t have any serious bullets? All we have are those rubber ones. I miss the States, it was easier to find weapons there.”
She glanced sideways, where the bulk of Agent Marrins lay still, and shuddered. He missed the States, too . . . “It looks like you found something effective.”
“Hmmm,” Mac said noncommittally as he finished wrapping her ankle. “Yeah. I’m not sure if any of the toys I brought are legal.” He moved around her and unlocked the cuffs.
She rubbed her wrists. “Thank you for coming for me. I know . . .” She took a ragged breath. Her heart was racing, and the tears were coming back. “How’d you even find me?”
“Bri called. Your phone. I was coming to give it to you and saw Marrins dragging you to his car.”
“My hero. Thank goodness you have that combat training . . .” Her face went ashen. “Oh, Mac, I’m so sorry . . .”
A weary smile spread across his face as he slid her other shoe off. “It’s okay. I almost didn’t come. I thought I couldn’t.”
“But you did.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll have nightmares about not getting here in time. When I start screaming, you can come tell me everything is fine.”
“Even in my pajamas?”
He chuckled. “I’d love that.” Strong arms scooped her up. He was warm, solid, comforting, Sam rested her head on his chest and took comfort from the quiet beat of his heart. “Stay just like that, beautiful.” Cool air from the hall brushed over her skin, and she shivered. “Keep your eyes shut,” Mac said. “You don’t want to see this.”
She squirmed, wanting to see what he wanted to hide. A hand covered her eyes. “Don’t look. You don’t need to see this,” he repeated. “Trust me.”
I do.
He didn’t move his hand until the door clanged shut behind them. Police sirens screamed in the distance. “There’s the cavalry.”
“How are you going to explain this?” Sam asked.
Mac’s truck beeped as he unlocked it. “What do I need to explain? I’m a bureau agent who put down a group of home-grown terrorists and exposed a weakness in the local police force.”
“With no orders?”
“The senior agent for the district was incapacitated. As the only other level four in the district, I made a command decision.”
Sam gasped, tilting her head back to look up at him. “You’re serious? You outrank me?”
“Probably not for long.” Mac chuckled. “If they don’t promote you after tonight, I’ll be surprised.”
“You outrank me! Why didn’t you ever say so?” She slapped his arm in mock outrage.
“I’m a doctor, too, and you never use that title,” he pointed out, as police cars flooded the parking lot.
“You were a medic,” Sam said.
He grinned. “Before I went to the army med school. I’m not a brain surgeon, but I’m a pretty good for a field surgeon.”
She put her head back down. “I like a man who’s full of surprises.” Mac sat in the car, holding her tight until the EMTs took her away.
In the ambulance, she missed the feel of his arms around her.
CHAPTER 28
One person can change the world. One person can tip the favor of balance against us. If this is so, then I say: Kill that person. No single person should have that kind of power.
~ Colonel Aina—Commandant of the Ministry of Defense War Colleges I1- 2072
Monday July 8, 2069
Alabama District 3
Commonwealth of North America
Agent Benjamin Anan stood by Sam’s hospital bed, frowning. “Listen, Rose, I’m not trying to belittle you. I know you’ve been through a traumatic experience, and I am trying to help you. Now, once more, who unlocked the handcuffs and helped you get out of the building?” The setting sun glinted off his gold pen as he waited for answers.
“Once again, I repeat, Dr. Emir unlocked the handcuffs the first time.”
“The Dr. Emir who died last week?”
“No, the Dr. Emir who killed that Emir last week.”
“His twin?”
Sam rolled her eyes. They’d been stuck on the same question since Anan showed up with breakfast, and even she was beginning to question what she’d seen.
“Come on, throw me a bone. I’m on your side.”
“Maybe it was his clone,” Sam finally said.
Anan snapped his notebook shut. “Thank you! That, at least, is something I can use in court. Time machines? Agents who are also serial killers? Do you know what a mess this is? And I’ve got to go to court to cover all of this as the bureau’s representative down here.” He looked longingly at the chair beside her bed.
“I was there for all of it, and if you’d sign the release paperwork, I’d handle this in court.”
“You know that can’t happen. If you represented the bureau’s case, it would become a game of he said she said. It’s already embarrassing enough.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
A nurse pushed aside the curtain. To Sam’s surprise, Lacey Altin scowled back at the two of them. “Officer, visiting hours were over ten minutes ago.”
“My apologies, Nurse, I just have a few more questions.”
“So does her doctor,” Lacey said, pushing the curtain aside and wheeling in a tray with a cocktail of drugs. “Now you either get on out of here, or I’ll put a shot of this painkiller in your butt and admit you for a concussion when you hit your head on the ground.”
Sam swallowed a giggle.
“Get!” Lacey Altin drew herself up to her full Valkyrian height and pointed at the door, chin trembling with fierce pride.
Anan held his hands up in surrender. “I’m going. Sorry. I didn’t realize things were that strict around here. Rose?” He slapped the door lintel. “If you think of anything, give me a call.”
“Bless his heart,” Lacey muttered. “How you doing?”
Sam shrugged. “I ache everywhere. Nothing makes sense. I want to go home, but I think I’m going to go to jail.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Do you think you can handle one more visitor?”
“Yeah. I won’t promise I’ll answer their questions, but they can come in.”
On cue, Detective Altin turned the corner holding a picnic basket. “Hey, Rose.” The distinct aroma of Miss Azalea’s fried chicken filled the room.
“Hi.” Her stomach grumbled. If he wasn’t planning on sharing that chicken, he was going to wind up in the bed next door with a broken arm.
Altin kissed his wife on the cheek. “Thank you, honey.”
“Ten minutes,” Lacey warned, “and then you have to be out of here.”
Sam motioned to the empty chair beside her. “Have a seat. Are you allowed to tell me anything?”
“Officially? No. That’s why I’m here after hours.” He propped the basket on his knee. “I swung by your place, had a quiet chat with your ME, and brought you some real food. Your landlady threatened to report police abuse if I didn’t see you were fed.”
Sam clapped her hands.
“I’ll tell you everything, just feed me! Tofu burgers do not live up to the hype.”
With a chuckle, Altin set the basket on her bedside table. “All right, I think I got most of the story from MacKenzie. The machine you broke killed Melody. Marrins killed Robbins and Emir. It took a bit of doing, but we found the bullets, and they match the ones from the gun he had on him at the lab.” He sighed. “I was going to tell you on Monday. I’ve got the warrant and everything. I think Robbins was going to back out, tell someone what happened, and Marrins had a golden opportunity to silence Robbins and get you off the case.” He leaned back in his chair shaking his head.
“Marrins arranged the interview in D.C., so he could dump the body at my house?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I really am. I should have let you know as soon as I suspected anything. After Emir’s death, the phone call you had . . . things started to click. I knew someone was trying to get you, but I didn’t figure Marrins would ever go that far. I feel guilty as hell.”
Lacey cleared her throat. After a stern warning look for her husband, she went back to silently counting out Sam’s pain pills.
Sam shrugged. “You told me it could be someone in the bureau. You warned me, and I didn’t want to believe you. Even if you had warned me about Marrins, I wouldn’t have believed you. There was no way I would have believed a bureau agent was involved.”
Altin crossed his arms with a frown.
It wasn’t worth arguing over. “When’s the trial start?” Sam opened the basket and pulled out a piece of greasy chicken. Heaven. Artery-clogging, horrible-for-your-hips heaven.
“Friday. Closed court. No jury. Since everyone involved was a government employee, they’ve decided to do a judges’ panel. I don’t think five of them is enough, but I’m old-fashioned like that. And they couldn’t find any other judges with the security clearance to see all the information. I don’t have clearance, but I will by Thursday.”
Sam was confused. “Mordicai Robbins wasn’t a government employee: he was a civilian contractor. So was Melody.”
“The murder cases won’t go to court. The guilty party is dead, case closed, justice done.”
There was a long silence. She knew what the next question had to be, the tension was gnawing at her, but still . . .” What about me? Do you know what’s happening to me?”
“Psych testing, physical therapy, and weekly mental-health meetings is my guess. I’m not entirely sure what Agent Anan is going to recommend. Except for the psych eval—I saw the paperwork on that. Kinkarri is a good doctor. You’ll like her.”
“What about Mac?”
“What about him?”
“Is he in trouble?”
Altin shook his head. “The bureau’s using him as the example of a national hero, swooping in to save the day at the last possible moment. No mention of the PD assist. We never get credit.”
“And neither do I? What the hell? I had things under control!” Sam protested. “Mostly.” Except for the fact I was probably about to be executed after I broke the machine. “I was trying at least. Why am I the victim?”
“You don’t want the answer to that,” Altin said.
“Of course she doesn’t,” Lacey cut in sarcastically. “That’s why she was asking. Here, honey, take these. That’s a good girl.” She patted Sam on the back as she swallowed the pills with a glass of lukewarm water.
Altin patted her good knee. “No one likes a self-rescuing damsel in distress, but you’ll survive. No one gets to the top of their field without getting some bad press.”
“Top of my field? Altin, all I want at the end of the trial is to still have a job!” Sam collapsed back onto her pillows.
CHAPTER 29
The Paladin: she whose faith in humanity has the power to save humanity from itself.
~ Writings of The Student I3–2073
Tuesday August 6, 2069
Alabama District 3
Commonwealth of North America
“Can you really call her a federal agent?” a bubbly redhead asked her television cohost. “I mean, if she’s a fully trained agent, I’m a lawn chair!” The studio audience laughed on cue as Sam watched, detached from her public humiliation.
“You should turn that off,” Bri said over the crowd’s roar of approval. “The lot of them are going to rot in prison for the next forty years, that’s all you need to know. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. It’s over, and you’re free and moving on with your career.”
Sam hit the button on the hotel remote and stood up. “There was nothing else on.” She picked up the sweatshirt Brileigh had dropped off the first week. The hospital stay had been the worst weeks of her life. Therapy, isolation for psychological evaluation that she was certain she’d only passed by lying, and more interviews with various bureau officials who were all certain she’d done something wrong. In between, there were phone calls from her parents. Well, her mother at any rate. Her father’s therapist had called to say he was in an emotionally delicate place right now, and something as drama-filled as this wasn’t what he needed.
If only her mother had been in a similar frame of mind. Somehow, through everything, her mother had latched on to the idea that she was quitting. When news of Sam’s several failed escape attempts became a matter of public record, her mother started pushing her to resign. She was tarnishing her family name, ruining the reputation of the CBI, the only decent thing to do was to admit the whole law-enforcement idea was a horrible fit for her and step away. Her mother even offered her a flat in Madrid, all expenses paid. But Sam couldn’t bring Hoss. More importantly, she didn’t want to quit.
Her mother had seemed more swayed by her loyalty to the dog than Sam’s desire to stay with the CBI, but she’d still been disappointed.
“Do you want to pick up dinner on the way home? Jake said he didn’t mind if we stayed out late. Celebrate Wednesday Lady’s Night a little early since we’re both on our feet again.”
Bri had been a lifesaver. And between her visits, Lacey Altin had stopped by to bring Sam updates the bureau wasn’t willing to let her have. No one had been willing to let her testify for the public trial—she’d given her version of events to the judges in private—and to the world at large, she was nothing more than a junior agent who had become a victim.
The media feeding frenzy left her feeling isolated, and more than a little worthless. Even Marrins had more support. He’d been laid to rest surrounded by crowds of protestors, only some of them there to decry his crimes. There was no family left to bury him, but he’d found like-minded souls in death.
“Sam?” Bri touched her elbow. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just . . . a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It was hard to sleep when all she did was relive the nightmare again, and again, and again. Repeatedly during the night, she woke up in cold sweats with a throbbing headache where an imaginary bullet had hit her. Marrins had never pulled his trigger, but her psyche didn’t seem to accept that fact.
The only good thing to come out of the debacle was that Emir’s machine was broken. No one was going to go back in time to prevent North America from unifying. No more bodies would be showing up from Emir’s other iterations. With luck, and some heavy-duty sleeping pills, she’d forget about the other-Sam she’d seen and get back to normal.
“Let’s go,” Bri said, picking up Sam’s suitcase. “We’ll pick up some steaks and cheesecake at the Fonteyn on our way home. It’s never crowded on a weeknight.”
“Cheesecake is good.” Sam looked around the room. “Home . . . home is good.” She picked up a long purple envelope from the bureau that lay on the table. Tears welled up in her eyes. Home sounded empty. “I miss Hoss,” she said through a forced smile.
“MacKenzie will be there, too,” Bri promised as she held the doo
r open.
“Maybe,” Sam said. Her ankle ached as she limped forward. “He said he was looking into finding a new place.” It doesn’t matter, she promised herself. The envelope from the bureau rough in her hand. It doesn’t matter.
Mac looked up as the door swung open, bringing the sound of crickets and the scent of Sam’s perfume. He lowered his bowl to the table, so he could watch her. A white purse hung off her arm, matching her white skirt and jacket. “You’re home early.” Could he say anything stupider? Home early? Why not, I love you, Sam? “I . . . I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
She froze, startled face pale in the moonlight. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Sorry.” Mac muted the television. “I was eating.” Since that night at the lab, she’d been gone, and he’d fallen into the habit of watching TV with dinner since Agent Anan had ordered him away from the hospital.
Sam nodded, closing the door and locking it. “It’s over.”
“I saw it on the news this morning. They threw the book at them It’ll still be a few decades before any of them see daylight outside a barbed-wire fence. I would have lined them all against a wall with a firing squad out front.”
She ran a hand across her face. Her lips pressed together as tears appeared in her eyes. “Emir . . . Emir wasn’t there. They never found his body. The psychologists grilled me for a week, and now I’m not even sure what I saw. I thought he was there, but maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe all of this was a nightmare.”
Mac sighed. “No one else saw Dr. Emir that night. I sat in on the interrogations with Altin.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that. Marrins saw him. Maybe he kept the doctor secret from the rest of his team. Maybe they’re lying.”
“And you don’t believe them?”
She shrugged. “I saw what I saw. What did they tell the court?”
