Madam President screamed. Yes, I knew someone else was there—someone who hadn't yet revealed himself.
Or, in this case, herself.
* * *
Ilya
I went cold. Eight clones died before my eyes, in less than three seconds. All eight. I glanced at Corinne. Her nose was bleeding.
Words ran through my mind. Corinne's words, as she sat behind a computer, studying photographs.
Dante Dolsen, dead.
Francis Pike, dead.
Karl Graham, dead.
Langston Coffman, dead.
She'd killed them while she stared at their photographs. While she was in the nation's capital and they were in Canada.
My blood went from cold to frozen. Eight clones lay dead in front of us when the hidden one revealed herself.
Was she human?
Not now.
I blinked, too, at the one she held hostage, a gun pointed at the woman's temple.
Colonel Hunter's wife, Laci.
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
She had arms and legs, like a human. Very little past that resembled any human I'd ever seen. Covered in greenish-brown scales, she appeared more lizard-like than human. She was also dressed in camouflage, to keep us from seeing her until she chose to reveal herself.
She pointed a fucking gun at Laci's head.
I had no idea how Becker's clones had suddenly dropped dead, but suspicions were forming in my mind. Those would have to wait until later. Yes, Laci had filed for divorce. I still loved her, and it broke my heart to see her threatened like this. Obviously, the enemy had covered all his bases.
Corinne and Rafe had stopped walking the moment Laci and her captor appeared. I could tell that the deaths of Becker's clones disturbed the lizard woman. Greatly.
I didn't have time to dissect that fact. I had to figure out how to get Laci away from her.
"Let her go," Corinne said. "Or you'll end up like the Beckers."
"I will kill her if you do not come with me," lizard woman replied. I could see sharp teeth as she spoke—teeth made for killing, not chewing.
Did she swallow her prey whole or in chunks? I fought down nausea.
* * *
Corinne
This was my last hand. The ace I'd held until the end, so the others wouldn't be so afraid of me they'd attempt to kill me or run away.
There hadn't been any choice. Lizard lady probably knew her minutes were numbered, but she'd been given strict orders to haul Rafe and me away. The thing that terrified me the most? There were others just like her. And I mean just like her. In every way, down to the smallest scales on her little pinky.
Her boss, though, whoever he was, wasn't going to get what he wanted. Not today. With a narrowing of my eyes, I watched her fall. All of it seemed to happen in slow motion. Lizard woman crumpled. Laci dropped to her knees, sobbing. Auggie ran toward her. I looked past him at Madam President, who was forcefully tossed to the ground by her Chief of Staff, Hal Prentice. Hal then pulled a gun and aimed it at Auggie.
Seeing his face—focusing on it for the first time, told me so many things. He'd been contacted months ago. He was behind the helicopter bombing and the passing of Rafe's information to the Russians. He was kept in the loop as much as possible by the President herself.
He was a clone.
Like Mary Evans, this version worked for the enemy. He'd never wanted Auggie in charge of the Program, because Auggie was a straight shooter. He'd advised the President to name Cutter after General Edwards' death. He'd been instructed to kill Colonel August Hunter now, after Rafe and I had been safely squirreled away. Even with the failure of the first part of the plan, he was still following orders.
Could I kill him with my talent?
I tried. Something prevented it.
I screamed and ran toward Auggie and his wife. Rafe called my name dimly behind me. I shoved Auggie aside.
The gun went off.
I was outside Rafe's protection.
The bullet hit me in the chest.
* * *
Ilya
I wanted to kill him a second time. He'd emptied his weapon at me while I stalked toward him. He should have known better than to attempt to run. Hal Prentice lay at my feet, his neck broken, glassy eyes staring at me in surprise.
"Get back," Leo Shaw shouted behind me. I turned swiftly.
What was he doing?
Colonel Hunter was shoved away from Corinne's body. Dr. Shaw pulled a syringe from a pocket and plunged it into Corinne's neck. I screamed Corinne's name; I know I did.
Colonel Hunter and the President of the United States did their best to hold me back as I struggled to get to Corinne.
* * *
Notes—Colonel Hunter
"August, I'm so sorry."
Laci's apology salved part of my guilt.
Just not all of it.
Shaw and Richard Farrell were with Corinne's body. Six hours had passed since the incident, and there was no news.
Either Cori was dead, or the drug was taking hold.
We'd had to sedate Rafe. He wanted to kill all of us, I think.
"She's like a daughter," I mumbled, working to keep the tears from my eyes.
"I was jealous. Of her. Of your job," Laci wept. "I was so stupid."
"Laci, don't cry. You make me want to," I said, sitting beside her and wrapping my arms around her shoulders.
Madam President's phone had remained curiously silent. That concerned me. I pondered that while I held my wife and wiped away her tears.
Did Corinne's talent frighten the enemy so much he'd backed off?
Now I knew why she wanted to see him so badly. To kill him. To make him pay for all those he'd killed just to get this painting or that bauble for somebody else.
I knew a certain Asian dictator who'd better watch his back if Corinne happened to survive. Actually, I knew a lot of people who ought to watch their backs.
* * *
"I have information, connecting Hal with Hugh Lawrence." The FBI Director handed a flash drive and a file to the President. "The information is sketchy—what we could put together in the last few hours since you requested it."
"But why?" Madam President had worked hard to keep tearstains from showing. It wouldn't do to show that weakness to anyone.
"Did Hal push Cutter for the Secretary of Defense position?"
"Yes." The President lowered her eyes. "Right after General Edwards was murdered."
"We have information on plenty of calls between Lawrence and your Chief of Staff, two months before Lawrence died. There are odd transfers of funds, too, that have been coming to Prentice's bank accounts since then."
"He was connected to this whole mess?" The President's voice trembled.
"It looks that way. We'll know more in the next few days."
"No wonder he was never in a meeting with Corinne," the President muttered.
"What's that?" the Director asked.
"Nothing. Thank you for this—I'll take a look immediately. Bring the other information when you have it."
"I will."
"One more thing, Director."
"Yes?"
"I want the body turned over to a special team for an autopsy."
"I'll make arrangements."
* * *
Ilya
Days have passed. The President, Colonel Hunter and many others have turned their attention to the growing unrest in the Middle East. The U.S. government is taking the blame for the deaths in Afghanistan, when they had little to do with it.
I knew now that the Civilian Security Services rogues who did the killing were already dead when their convoy was bombed—satellite images and air strike pilots confirm that the vehicles weren't moving when the missiles were launched. Many of them looked to have been wrecked where they were—Corinne had killed them while they were en route to their next target.
Yes, it was frightening, and I understood why she held that information back un
til there was no other choice. I sat beside her bed—as often as Dr. Shaw would allow it.
She had no idea that we trusted her—with our lives. I reached out to push a tendril of hair behind an ear. A moan, as soft as a whisper, escaped her lips.
* * *
Corinne
You float in a bubble.
At least I did, poised between death and another life. If I chose the latter, would they run from me, knowing I could kill them with a thought?
All I had to do was see them—or their photograph—once, and I could do it.
You have no concept of time.
Whether it had been days or weeks while I struggled to make up my mind, I had no idea.
Should I stay?
Faced with the prospect of no friends and few allies, what incentive did I have?
That's when I felt the mental brush against my soul, the words gentle. Careful.
Shhh. Ilya's here, my darling. Ilya's here.
It was all I needed to know.
The End
About the author:
Connie Suttle lives in Oklahoma with her patient, long-suffering husband and three cats. For information on forthcoming titles, please visit Connie's website at www.subtledemon.com, her blog at subtledemon.blogspot.com or find her on Facebook—Connie Suttle Author. She is also on twitter: @subtledemon.
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