Chapter Twelve
Sam suddenly found herself all alone in the infirmary. Alone aside from an unresponsive Jacob. It took her a moment to realize Alex and Clover had vanished abruptly and it took a little longer to remember why.
I suppose that means they've found the bomb, she thought. Alex and Clover should be back soon, and then this'll all be over.
Sam walked around to one side of the bed. Jacob's gun and his shoulder harness lay on the bedside table. His cleaned and pressed clothes hung in the closet facing the bed. She pulled the sheets up on him, knowing he would get cold easily with a fever. Just a few more hours and we can all go back to normal, she thought. Dealing with thieves is one thing. You can always catch them and return the stolen goods to their owners. What I've seen this past week is way beyond any of that. The bomb was just the first part of Stephen's plan. After that, events would be set in motion that no one can reverse. Is this the sort of thing that Jacob deals in every day? Not only looking out for himself and those immediately affected, but also keeping an eye on the extreme-long-term effects of his actions? I just don't see how one could manage doing that on a daily basis without going insane, or at least aging prematurely. I wonder where he'll end up after this crisis is resolved? That's probably something 99.9% of America won't ever find out.
She stretched her back and arms, but not enough to aggravate the wound. She decided there was nothing more she could do here and left the infirmary. She found herself wandering around the floor until she found a waiting room with a good view of the city. The buildings around and below the WOOHP headquarters appeared as black shapes with holes cut in them to allow light to escape. Bright points of light moved up and down the serpentine roads, going about their business as usual. Sam remembered hearing about a big Lakers game tonight, which meant there would be lots of people in town. Lots of people in a town threatened by a nuclear attack without a care in the world, she thought. She envied those people. She wished she could just be home watching a movie with her family instead of worrying about the future of the entire world, unable to help. She wondered what kind of excuse she would come up with if her mom ever saw her wound. It was on her front and backside, so it would be difficult to hide. She decided to leave that for later.
"Hello, Sam. Feeling alright?" Sam turned to find Jerry standing next to her.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I guess."
"I'm sorry that you couldn't go on this mission, but I had no choice. Between your injury and the importance of this mission, I simply couldn't risk anything."
"I know, I know. I'm just upset that the world's in trouble and I can't do anything about it."
"You've done all you can, Sam. Sometimes we just have to sit back and trust others to get the job done when we can't."
"This is the same reason why we stayed on this mission. None of us could stand sitting back and watching and waiting and doing nothing while the world's in trouble."
"Well, just remember that your friends will be back soon enough, and then you can all finally go home."
"Does that mean I'm still confined to the building?"
"I'm afraid so, Sam. There's too many FBI agents watching the building right now, and I can't risk you going out alone in your condition."
Sam felt the building shake slightly, and then a pair of WOOHP zip craft eased away from the building and sped off into the night.
"So what do we do now?"
"For now it's just wait and see."
"We wait and see if they get the bomb?"
"No, we wait for them to return with the bomb and then decide where to go from there. Remember, we are still on the FBI's bad side."
"Point." She stared at the city for a little while. "Will Jacob be okay?"
"He's sick as a dog, but he'll be fine. As long as he gets plenty of rest, he should be back on his feet before the week is over."
Then he'll be shipped off to God-knows-where is what you won't say, Sam didn't add.
"Well Sam, I have a lot of things I need to take care of. Please don't wander too far." Jerry strolled out of the room and down the hall.
Sam once again found herself alone in the big WOOHP building. She wondered how Alex and Clover were doing without her. It wasn't the first time they'd gone without her, and they've always been fine. There's no need to worry about those two, she thought. They can take care of themselves. Besides, they've got a dozen WOOHP agents backing them up. No need to worry at all.
"Then why am I so worried?"
Try as she might, she couldn't shake the ominous sensations that crept through her stomach. Something wasn't right. Only this time, it wasn't her allies keeping things from her. This time, she felt as if something was horribly wrong with the current situation. It just felt too easy.
Her Compowder rang and she answered it.
"Sam here, what's up?"
"Is this Samantha?" said an eerily familiar voice. There was no video on the signal, so the screen showed only static, but that didn't stop Sam's blood from freezing. She cradled the Compowder close and went to a corner of the room, making sure nobody was looking.
"What do you want?"
"To speak to my nephew. Where is he?"
"He can't talk right now, so you'll just have to tell me whatever you wanted to say."
"Is that so? Too bad, you won't understand a word of what I was going to say."
"What?"
Before Sam could stop him, Stephen began spouting off a string of Russian. All Sam could do was hit the record button and hope to get it translated somehow. When Stephen finished his message, Sam said, "How did you contact me?"
"It wasn't easy. Your encryption software is outstanding, but not impervious."
"Congratulations."
"Why thank you. Goodbye, Samantha."
"Wait! Don't hang up!"
"If you're trying to stall me so I can be traced, it won't work."
"You're not being traced. No one knows you've called me. Yet."
"Is there something you wanted to say, then?"
Sam paused. She wouldn't get much of a chance to say anything, so whatever she said next had to be important.
"Where are you?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to find someone who speaks Russian to help you with that."
Shoot, try again. "How long have you been planning this?"
"Since I discovered Jacob was hunting me."
"Because you'd have to draw him out, right?"
"Exactly."
"So why hold a whole city at gunpoint just to get one man?"
"I already told you why. This isn't just about him and me; it's about performing the ultimate service for my country."
"Hmph, I hope you like being captured, because-"
"You've dispatched a pair of jets to come get me, right?"
"What...how did you know?"
"If I had some binoculars, I could watch the whole thing going down right now."
Oh no.
"Nice little diversion, isn't it? The last of my wolves proved useful after all."
There was a pause. "I want to see my wayward nephew one last time before I go. Please do an old man a favor and grant his last request." The line went dead, leaving Sam alone with a possible clue she couldn't understand.
"Great, now what?" She wasn't quite sure what to do with the message. On top of that, Alex and Clover were going the wrong way. The easiest thing would be to take it to Jerry, but she was worried what might happen. What would Stephen do if he spotted a WHOOP jet heading right for him? And that was only if he revealed his location in the message. What if the message was some riddle only Jacob could understand? Even families that hate one another have inside jokes. Not like Jacob's in any condition to help anyway. So where does that leave me? Stuck between a rock and a hard place, that's where.
A nurse entered the room. "Excuse me, Jacob's awake now, if you want to see him."
"Yeah, I will. Thanks."
"He's still very weak, so don't get him excited or anything." She led the way down the hall past the infirmary and to the recovery ward. They stopped at a door with a pair of WOOHP agents standing outside.
"What are they for?" Sam whispered.
"To make sure your friend doesn't try anything stupid, or at least that's what I've been told." The nurse showed her ID to the guards and they let her and Sam in. "I'll stay outside for now. Just call if you need anything." The nurse left the room.
Sam walked over to the bed and sat down in the chair beside it. Jacob's eyes were half-open, and he didn't bother moving an inch. Once again, his gun lay on the bedside table.
He looked at her and said "hey." His voice was weak and his skin still pale.
"Hi, how's it going?"
"Not too bad. The bed's comfy."
"Don't lie to me. You're sick as hell."
"This is nothing. Just a fever."
"A fever that made you collapse right in front of me."
"Like I said, a fever."
Sam could tell that his strength was already fading fast. He wouldn't be conscious for long.
"Listen," she lowered her voice to make sure the guards couldn't hear, "Stephen contacted me a few minutes ago."
Jacob's eyes widened. "Go on."
"He had a message for you, but it's in Russian. I can't understand it."
"Have you told anyone else?"
"No."
"Did you record it?"
"Yeah, most of it." She opened her Compowder and played the message just loud enough for them to hear it. When the message finished, Jacob asked her to play it again. When that was done, he was silent. It was a couple of minutes before Sam realized he'd fallen asleep.
"Hey, don't go to sleep on me yet!" She nudged him, but got no response. "Crud, not good." She shook him harder, but still got no response. She looked around the room in desperation, but it was hopeless. She stood up and paced around the room. Without Jacob to translate, she'd have to take it to Jerry, and there was no telling what would happen then. If Jacob didn't show up wherever Stephen was, he might set the bomb off. She paused next to the monitor, still at a loss for ideas. Then a label on the I.V. bag caught her eye.
"Propofol?" The name had a familiar ring to it, and she tried to remember why. After a few minutes, she remembered. She'd heard the name in her biology class, and it was a general anesthetic, the sort doctors use to put patients under in an operating room.
"I don't believe this! They've drugged him up!" Depending on the concentration, Jacob could be out for hours as long as the fluid kept dripping into his system. Sam turned the drip monitor off and disconnected the bag from the catheter.
"So this is how they're keeping him out of trouble; by keeping him out cold."
So now what?
She was about to make up her mind to see Jerry when Jacob muttered something. Sam went back to the bed and asked, "What did you say? C'mon, say it again!"
"Solomon." Jacob was totally unconscious now.
"Solomon? What kind of help is that?"
The name is familiar, but from what? She knew about King Solomon from the Bible, but didn't see how this could be related to the situation. She remembered hearing what sounded like wind over Stephen's phone, so she knew he was outside, probably away from any traffic or busy places. She walked over the window and looked out the blinds. Most of the buildings were lit up, as it was still fairly early in the evening. Once exception lay off to the right. Aside from a few security lights, it was almost completely darkened. It was still under construction, as told by the scaffolding on the roof. Sam remembered hearing something major about that building a few weeks ago. Then the name struck like a lightning bolt.
The Solomon Carlita Estates – a brand-new high-rise apartment building. It wasn't finished yet, even though the first tenants were supposed to be moving in next week. Sam pulled the list from her pocket and checked it. Sure enough, it was there.
"Is this it?" she said to no one. "Is this the real deal, or am I wrong?"
Sam found herself facing another decision. Was this the right place? If so, what should I do? What if it's not? Then what? Why'd they have to drug Jacob? When will Alex and Clover get back? Should I tell Jerry what I know? Or...should I do this myself?
The thought nailed her feet to the floor. She'd seen firsthand what kind of fighter Stephen was. She wondered if she could take him on single-handedly. She wondered what she would do once she got there. How would she take on Stephen, all by herself? Here eyes fell on Jacob's gun.
"If I get the first shot off, then I win." But could she do it? Could she take a man's life, even if she had no other choice?
I don't have to kill him, just incapacitate. But will he let me is the question.
She still wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. Too many things she didn't know. Sam knew she was a good fighter, but had no idea how she stacked up to Stephen's skill. She stared at Jacob's gun, and she remembered something he said at the apartment:
"...you and me and Alex and Clover and Jerry and everyone else involved in this operation are going to do everything in our power to stop Stephen."
He's right, she thought. If it's within my power to go fight Stephen, then that's what I'm going to do.
Sam picked the gun and harness off the table. She took off her jacket and put the harness on, adjusting the straps for her smaller frame. She holstered the gun and put her jacket back on. She looked herself in a mirror, noticing the slight bulge under the jacket. It would have to do. She stood beside the bed again.
"Jacob, you told me that we have to do whatever is within our power to stop this guy. Well, it's fallen within my power to go face Stephen by myself. I don't really see any other way around it, and I don't know what will happen when I get there. All I can say is, I've enjoyed working with you. It's probably a far-fetched hope, but, see you later."
She nodded to the guards as she left the room and down the hall towards the elevator. While she waited for the elevator to come, she remembered that the FBI had the building surrounded. She needed a way out if she was going to go see Stephen. She took the elevator to the floor where the cafeteria was, not terribly sure what she was doing. Staff and off-duty agents occupied the cafeteria. She was about to go in when she spotted Jennifer heading for the elevator. Sam caught up to her and got her attention.
"Oh, hey Sam. What's up?"
"Nothing, really. Say, if someone needed to leave the building like, right now, how would they go about doing it?"
Jennifer noticed the bulge in Sam's jacket and figured out what she was doing immediately. "Hmm, it won't be easy. The FBI's keeping a close watch on this place. You'd have to sneak out without them seeing you." Jennifer focused for a minute. "Hmm, if I recall correctly, this building and the one next to it used to be owned by the same company before WOOHP bought it. There was a service tunnel which ran between the two, but it's supposedly been sealed off."
Sam's countenance fell.
"However, I also heard the tunnel was merely closed off, and not very well at that. Supposedly the folks next door still use it for storage."
"Is there any place where the tunnel comes out on the surface?"
"Yeah, there's one I know of about a block away from the building, which is farther away than the FBI is watching this place."
"Thanks, Jenn. I owe you one."
"Don't mention it. Oh, by the way, Sam."
"Yeah?"
"Pull the trigger straight back in one smooth motion."
"What?"
"Don't jerk it back like most rookies do. That'll throw your aim off."
"Oh, thanks."
Jennifer winked at Sam and stepped into the elevator, and then she was gone. Sam took another elevator down to the basement level. A series of turns took her into a less trafficked area of the basement, where storage and utility rooms commanded most of the available space. Sam followed a corridor that ended at a door marked "NO ENTRY. EXECUTIVE AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED." Sam stepped over the chains barring the way and examined the door. It was made of NASA-grade steel, and an electronic lock held it shut. Sam opened her Compowder and plugged it into the lock. The hacking program activated and had the lock opened within a few seconds.
"Nobody's been here for years, probably."
She pulled the door open and looked inside. The smell of dust and plywood met her nose, and she could see why once her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The tunnel was packed with crates and covered things sitting on palates. Most of them had acquired a thick layer of dust. Sam supposed this was where they put things they didn't need and couldn't get rid of. She climbed over the first stack of crates in front of her and then dropped down to the floor. A narrow lane led between the crates and equipment. She followed it for many paces before a side lane appeared. She looked down the lane and saw a ladder leading up to a hatch in the roof of the tunnel. She climbed the ladder, opened the hatch, and continued up to the street level.
The opening led to an alley a good distance from the WOOHP building. Sam climbed out and looked around. Everything was still wet from the rain. Black FBI vehicles were everywhere on the side facing the WOOHP building, but it was clear on the other end of the alley. She cautiously backed away from the FBI agents and walked to the street on the other end.
Once there, she hailed a taxi and told the driver to take her to the Solomon Carlita Estates. It took several minutes, but eventually they reached the building and Sam paid the fare and stepped out. The cab took off, leaving her staring up at the towering edifice. Knowing who and what were up there sent a chill down her spine, and caused the building to appear more threatening than inviting. She took a deep breath and walked into the lobby.
Sam's farewell had not fallen on deaf ears. Jacob was still conscious, but just barely. Her words entered his ears and slowly worked their way in, percolating through his anesthesia-addled mind, slowly but surely, until they finally reached his consciousness.
Sam, you idiot! You're going to get yourself killed!
Jacob bolted awake and sat up with a start, immediately regretting doing so. His head swam, and he kept it under control as best he could. He noticed that his catheter was not connected to the I.V. bag, and when he saw the label, he realized why.
"Great, now I owe her one."
He pulled the catheter from his arm and stepped out of bed. He still felt weak, from the fever or the drugs he couldn't tell.
Not good, I'm not up to full strength. Have to make do with what I have.
He started for the door, and then it opened by itself. A male nurse and the two guards stood in the way.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Jacob, but we can't let you leave. You're still sick and need rest." His eyes belied the fact that he knew what was in the I.V. solution.
"Stand aside, this concerns the fate of the operation and possibly the rest of the world."
"I can't do that."
Jacob looked from the nurse to the agents, who returned only stone-cold glares.
Jacob sighed. "Sorry about this."
"About what?"
Jacob kicked the nurse in the shin, and delivered a knockout blow to all three of them within two seconds. They collapsed at his feet. "Sorry guys, but a friend of mine is in danger, and I'm not about to let her die because of me."
He went to his closet and found his clothes cleaned and hung up. He exchanged his hospital gown for the clothes, found his gun missing, and guessed where it was. He checked the hallway before making haste to the elevator.
Sam entered the empty lobby. The lights were on and her footsteps echoed loudly on the polished marble. She walked past the reception desk, past the lounge chairs, and past the security checkpoint, which was inactive. She followed the hallway past the first set of elevators to a second set that went all the way up to the roof. She pressed the call button and tied her hair back while she waited for the elevator to descend. She stepped in when it arrived and pressed the button for the roof. The elevator accelerated quickly and smoothly. Sam drew the pistol and checked the magazine. Full. She replaced it and jacked the bolt to chamber the first round.
She brushed her hair out of the way and pointed the gun at the floor, holding it with both hands. It felt just a little too large for her hands, but compensated by being light as a feather. She looked up and saw her reflection in the stainless steel door. Standing there with the gun in her hands, her eyes focused and her body tensed for action, she thought she looked a little like Jacob.
"Guess we're not too different, you and I."
The elevator passed the 15th floor and continued to speed towards the roof.
Alex and Clover huddled in the cramped cabin of their zip craft. Most of the agents had stayed behind to clean up, but they and a few others were sent back to WOOHP HQ. Clover's hand and wrist were tightly wrapped up, and Alex was leaning forward to see out the cockpit. Clover was muttering about how badly a cast was going to clash with all her outfits. Well, except for a couple that would sort of hide it.
"Come on, can't we go any faster?" Alex asked the pilot.
"'Fraid not. This is as fast as we can go in stealth mode. Any faster and people will be able to hear the engines."
"Well, just hurry, okay?"
"I'm going as fast as I can. Just sit tight."
Alex leaned back in her seat. It wasn't often they were led on a wild goose chase, and this time they'd been duped big time. The only thing they could do now was get back to WOOHP as fast as possible and try to figure out where to go from there.
Clover turned to Alex. "I hate wild goose chases, don't you?"
"No kidding. I wonder what we're gonna do now?"
"Well, I'm going to have to get a cast, for starters."
"Ooh! Let me be the first to sign it!"
"Of course! How could I not let by best friends be the first ones?" Her optimism surprised Alex. She figured being put out of action in the middle of a crisis would have been plenty enough to bum her out. Alex's Compowder chimed and she answered it. Jerry was on the other end.
"What's up, Jerr?"
"I'm afraid I have some bad news. Sam is missing."
"What?"
"You heard me, Sam has disappeared and we're not sure where she went."
Clover scooted closer to look at the screen. "When did she vanish?"
"About 15 minutes ago. That was the last time anyone saw her."
"We've got to find her! She shouldn't go anywhere at a time like this!"
"I'm afraid it gets worse. Jacob is also missing. His guards were unconscious and he was not in his room."
"Do you think he knocked them out?" asked Alex.
"Most likely, yes."
"How could he even move? He was sick as could be."
"He's very strong, Alex. It takes a lot to take the fight out of him."
"What about Sam?" asked Clover. "Could she have done it?"
"Unlikely. Jacob vanished well after Sam did, and the guards hadn't been out for long."
"Why do you think they left?"
"My hunch is that Stephen contacted them somehow and they've gone off to see him."
"Where did they go? Have you tried Sam's Compowder?"
"We don't know, and Sam either left it somewhere or isn't answering. There's something else you should know. Someone had given Jacob an I.V. solution with an anesthetic mixed in."
"Someone was trying to keep him out of it?" burst Alex.
"Apparently."
"How did he wake up, then?"
"One of the nurses said Sam went to visit him shortly before she disappeared. She might have disconnected the drugs, which allowed him to wake up and escape."
"What should we do?" asked Clover.
"Get back here on the double. We have to figure out where they went, and Clover needs attention." Jerry's signal ended.
The zip craft came up on the WOOHP building. Alex could make out figures waiting for them on the rooftop. The ship circled the building a couple of times to throw off its speed and then descended to the helipad. Alex's mind was still awash with questions as the door opened and agents helped them down. Why on earth did Sam take off like that? Is Jacob heading to the same place? Do they know where Stephen is? What'll happen when they get there?
The elevator slowed down as it approached the roof. It seemed to take forever to slow down and finally bring itself to a halt. The indicator read "R," and Sam stood to one side with the gun pointed at the ceiling. The doors parted and Sam peeked around the corner. The roof was fairly well-lit, but she couldn't see anyone. She stepped out around the corner with the gun ready. She quickly looked each way, and still saw no one. Like the rest of the city, the roof was still wet. The lights up here and from the city below had an eerie orange tint, bathing the rooftop in strange light. The lights from the city reflected off the low-flying clouds, the reddish afterglow adding to the already ominous atmosphere.
She walked forward, gun extended, her senses clawing at the air for anything unusual. Her ears picked up the faintest sound of metal scraping against metal. It came from just behind and to the left, almost right above where she was standing. She whirled around to the left and raised her gun to where the sound came from. The sights found Stephen standing above on the scaffolding, his gun drawn and pointing right at her.
It seemed to take forever for the gun to finally center on Stephen, and once it did she pulled the trigger right as Stephen did. Stephen's bullet grazed her side just above her waist and she felt her wound tear open. She pulled the trigger just slightly too hard and the gun fired to the right of where she was aiming. Stephen stepped off the scaffolding as she fired and her bullet tore a hole in his coat sleeve and released the faintest spray of blood. He descended on her like a ghost, his coat billowing behind him and his arms outstretched and aiming for her throat.
Sam sidestepped under his arms and knocked his gun out of his hand, and then stepped away from him and swung her gun around towards his head. Stephen blocked her arm and Sam pushed with all her might against him. She pulled the trigger and missed. She pushed harder and fired again, this time almost hitting him. She pushed again with all her might and fired the gun at his neck. Stephen twisted his head out of the way and the bullet grazed his neck, sending a small spray of blood into the air. They broke the grapple and Sam swung the gun around again. This time Stephen kicked it out of her hand and they both stepped away from each other.
"Where is Jacob?"
"He couldn't make it."
"I don't believe you."
"I'm all that you've got right now, old man."
"All the powers of Hell couldn't stop him on this night."
"Why is that?"
"If you understood that, you'd be so many levels above what you are it would boggle your mind."
"I've come here to stop you, or die trying. That's all."
"You're really ready to die to protect your loved ones?"
"Yes."
"It's a shame that we must be enemies."
Sam stepped in and closed the gap with a kick aimed for his head. Stephen blocked and countered with one of his own. Sam parried and stepped in close, launching a flurry of punches. Stephen blocked the first few and then missed one to the stomach, and Sam followed that with a right hook to the jaw and then an elbow to his gut. She jumped up and went for a roundhouse kick to his head, but Stephen dodged and countered with a couple of jabs. Sam dodged and parried and went for a punch of her own. Stephen parried it to the outside with his right hand and then brought his fist crashing down across Sam's face. He followed it with a left jab to her stomach and then sent her sprawling on the ground with his foot.
Sam quickly got to her feet. The adrenaline coursing through her veins dulled the pain and put a fire in her limbs. She clenched her fists tight and charged at Stephen. She leaped at him with a kick and he blocked it and stepped behind her. Stephen slugged her in the kidney and backhanded her across the head. Sam sidestepped to avoid his next punch and kicked him hard in the knee. The blow stunned him momentarily and took him off-balance. She punched him across the face and delivered a series of lightning fast punches to the face and stomach, following them with one heel across his face and another in his stomach. Sam tried for another kick, but Stephen recovered and grabbed it. He tried to throw her but Sam used the force to launch herself into a backwards somersault and landed on her feet.
"You're not half-bad, child. I see great potential in you, if you're willing to strive for it."
"The only thing I see in you is a monster."
"Fair enough. Terrorists aren't supposed to be nice."
Stephen took the initiative this time, quickly walking in and leading off with a powerful swing. Sam ducked it and then blocked his other arm and tried to step behind him. Stephen saw this and backed into her. He drove his elbow into her stomach and then backhanded her in the face. He swiveled around and smashed his left fist into her stomach, hit her in the face with his right, and then backhanded her again. Sam quickly stepped back, but Stephen followed her movements and started throwing more attacks at her. She managed to parry one of his kicks and throw him slightly off-balance. She stepped in hard and fast and buried her right fist in his stomach and followed with a left uppercut. Stephen stumbled back and Sam followed him with a jump kick right in the center of his chest, throwing him back and on the ground for once.
Sam was breathing hard now. She was sore all over, and a wet spot had formed where her wound was. Every time Stephen hit that area it sent shockwaves through her body, and the repeated blows to the head weren't doing much good for her equilibrium. Stephen started to get back to his feet. He was barely breathing harder than normal.
He's just bigger, stronger, and tougher than me. That's the problem. No matter, he will go down.
"I'm enjoying this, Samantha, I really am. You fight with skill and determination, traits I admire in a soldier."
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and settled into a fighting stance. "Why don't you just go back to Hell?"
"I will, but not just yet."
They attacked each other simultaneously. This time they had no regards for their own safety. No dancing around in and out of range and fancy footwork. They attacked each other with wild abandon; each one taking as many blows as they delivered. Sam was faster and more graceful, but Stephen was more experienced and far stronger. Sam grabbed his sleeves and drove her knee into his stomach, and then again. She went for a third strike, but Stephen broke her hold, hit her twice in the stomach, twice across the face, and kicked her in the leg, face and then launched her with a third kick to the stomach.
Sam landed hard on the concrete and rolled back up onto her feet. Her body ached and her breath was ragged. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this pace up.
Stephen approached. "Don't tell me you're spent already."
"No, not by a long shot."
Stephen attacked her with his feet and Sam stepped inside his kicking range. She dodged a set of fast punches and then threw a few of her own - two across the face and two more in the stomach. Stephen dodged it and pinned her arm against his side. He delivered a vicious palm strike to her chest, and Sam thought something cracked. He pulled back for another, but Sam placed one foot on his chest and then kicked off his face with the other, causing him to release her arm and stumble backwards. She ran at him and kicked him square in the jaw, then again, and again, and again. Stephen started to recover from the stunning blow, so instead of a fifth kick she jumped at him, planted one foot on his chest, and kicked off with all her might, sending him flying towards the tool shed.
Stephen slammed into the flimsy door, crashed right through it and hit something heavy just inside. It was a few seconds before he managed to pull himself out of the shed. He was breathing heavier now, but appeared nowhere near as tired as Sam.
"A fine hit, child. I've underestimated you." He stepped away from the shed and Sam's eyes widened when she saw what was inside. Stephen noticed her reaction and turned around. "Yes, what you're thinking is correct. This is what we're fighting over, is it not?"
Just a few feet behind Stephen and less than fifteen from Sam sat the nuclear weapon.
The device's lights were on and some of them were blinking. Sam wasn't sure what to make of that.
"Don't worry, it's not on a timer or anything." Said Stephen. "It is armed, however, and I'm holding the detonator."
"Hand it over, Stephen." Sam pleaded. "For the love of God, just don't do this."
"That's impossible, I'm afraid. I'll never allow you to take me alive. You'll just have to take it from my corpse."
"Please, Stephen. Why do all those people have to die? Why does anyone have to die?"
"That is the world I've lived in since I was your age. That world has no use for me any longer, so I just have to leave it. That is how things have always worked."
"I don't understand. We don't have to do things this way!"
"I have fallen from my place in this world. It has no use for me and I have no use for it. The only thing I can do is the one thing I dedicated my life to doing; protecting my country from her enemies."
Sam's breath was calming down. "A regular shooting star, aren't you?"
"Come again?"
"You've fallen from your high place, and now the only thing you can do is burn up everything you touch."
"And that's the simple truth." Stephen looked out across the city. "My time here is ending, Samantha. Death is coming for me. It's time we ended this."
Stephen charged her with all his fury. Sam could barely keep up with his assault, and took several hits from her foe. Sam finally got a chance to leap away from his relentless attack She counterattacked several times, Stephen parrying and blocking each attack. Sam barely avoided his counters and went for her own counterattack. She threw a punch to his face, and Stephen dodged out of the way, holding his left arm on the opposite side of hers. Sam saw his right arm coming forward from his hip and everything happened in slow motion. His arms collided on hers like a pair of scissors. The bones in her right arm buckled under the stress, and finally gave way with a sickening "crack!"
Her arm went limp and an intense burning sensation shot through her arm, causing her to cry out in pain. Stephen stood back and watched her hold her arm and lean over, her face twisted by pain and injury. Her hair was streaked with sweat, and her shoulders heaved as her lungs struggled for oxygen. After what felt like forever, Sam stood back up straight and forced the pain into a corner of her mind. She set one foot back and held her left hand up in defense, letting her right arm hang limp and useless.
"Still willing to fight?"
Sam said nothing, letting her intensely focused eyes do the talking.
"I see. This place is so important to you that you're still willing to fight even though you're outclassed and badly injured." He snickered. "It truly is a terrible shame that we have to be on opposite sides of this conflict."
"Shut up and fight me."
Stephen approached her. She threw out her good hand, but Stephen simply caught her arm with his left hand and clamped his right hand around her throat. A malicious smile crossed his face as he started to squeeze her neck and hold her arm in an iron grip. Sam couldn't breath. Her limbs began to go numb, and her vision was fading fast. She reached with her left hand, for what she didn't know. Everything started to become distant. She could see herself at Stephen's mercy, atop the building with the bomb on it. Everything was so clear now. She was going to die, and Stephen would kill all her friends in one act. Yet she wasn't afraid. She was totally at peace. She'd done everything she could, and she'd failed. There was nothing else left to do but die. It all seemed so simple to her.
Suddenly Stephen changed his mind. He relaxed his grip on her throat, allowing air to rush into her lungs and blood to return to her brain. Sam's lungs took in air in ragged gasps, her eyes wide from the shock of having been to the brink of death and back. Just as she was starting to calm down from her journey to the edge, he smashed his foot into her left leg. Sam felt her leg bend where it wasn't supposed to, and she could no longer stand up. Stephen released her and tossed her against a scaffold. She collapsed to the floor, her entire body screaming in pain from head to toe. Her mind was completely clouded. She couldn't think straight for more than a few seconds. She did know one thing: this was the end.
She heard the bolt of a pistol slide into place and looked up, right down the sights of Stephen's gun and into his cold, emotionless face.
"I was impressed by your courage. You deserve a soldier's death."
Sam's own problems faded away. Every fiber of her being wanted to reach out and strangle this man, but she couldn't even stand up. The best she could manage was remaining defiant and brave.
Stephen tightened his grip. "Any last words?"
Sam stared him straight in the eyes. "None you'd like to hear."
"Pity." He straightened his arm and slowly began squeezing the trigger. Sam's gaze never left his eyes. She wasn't going out as a cowering captive. The whole world stood still, like it was waiting for a great event to unfold the likes of which it had never seen before.
Stephen's finger pulled the trigger back farther and farther. The hammer's release mechanism was almost ready to spring. Just another millimeter.
And then the elevator rang.
Stephen released the trigger and pointed his gun at the elevator doors. The doors parted and Jacob casually stepped out with his hands in his pockets. He stopped when he saw the gun pointed at him.
"What's this? Have you sunk to pulling a gun on unarmed men now?"
"You."
"You yourself, uncle."
"I knew you would come."
"I wasn't about to disappoint. I wouldn't miss this for the world."
Stephen put his gun away. "Are you ready to hunt the last wolf, Jacob?"
"I've always been hunting you, the one that got away."
"I thought WOLFHOUND was done for."
"WOLFHOUND'S mission won't be complete until we've captured every last wolf, and you're the last one."
"Are you ready to finish this?"
"Yeah. It's time I finished what I started" He took several steps away from the elevator, never taking his eyes off Stephen. "Sam, whatever happens, stay out of this. This is strictly between him and me. Nice shiner, by the way."
Sam touched her left eye. The flesh around it was swollen and tender.
Jacob stopped several paces from Stephen. "Just one question, before you and I are just professionals again, what was it all for?"
"A dream. A dream of a Russia free from corruption; powerful, respected, and unified. That's what this is all for."
"Dreams are an interpretation of reality, not its reflection."
"Yet everyone has them, something to strive for that is beyond what they are actually capable of. It's part of what makes us human. What are your dreams? Even you have at least one."
"I dream of a world where people like you and I are no longer necessary."
"Even more far-fetched than mine."
"Like you said, it's something to strive for."
The two of them circled each other. Their eyes tried to bore into one another's mind, each one trying to decide what the other's first move would be. Jacob took the initiative and flew at Stephen with terrifying speed. They clashed with unbridled fury, fists flying and feet moving with poetic speed and strength.
All Sam could do was sit and watch. The speed of their fight was mesmerizing, both of them delivering and defending blows with unreal precision and skill. Almost every blow looked like it could knock a full-grown man out, and they were regularly taking hits from such attacks. She started to notice distinctions in their fighting styles. Jacob was extremely fast and used his speed to add to the force of his attacks and avoid Stephen's. He was light on his feet and very loose; letting the fight move in whatever direction it wanted. Stephen, on the other hand, was much more reserved. He kept close to himself and drew Jacob in close where he could punish him with his fast fists, making more use of grappling attacks than Jacob did. For all their differences, the two of them were evenly matched.
Jacob threw a pair of punches and Stephen swatted them away and countered with a pair of his own across Jacob's face. Jacob blocked a third punch and then stepped in with a series of rapid blows to Stephen's face. Stephen swung at him and Jacob ducked, hit him in the stomach, and then rose up and delivered an uppercut and followed through with a reverse roundhouse kick that sent Stephen staggering backwards. Jacob wasted no time and chased after him and swung at his head. Stephen parried under the punch and hit Jacob in the stomach and followed with another blow to the head with his other hand and then again to the stomach. He kicked him in the face with one foot and then sent Jacob to the ground with a roundhouse to the head. Jacob fell down but quickly recovered and got to his feet, sliding a bit on the wet concrete.
"Why do you fight, Jacob?"
"I fight to protect people from maniacs like you."
They clashed again with the same terrifying force. Stephen had Jacob mostly on defense, which proved to not be such a weakness for him. They delivered and defended many attacks, their fury rising with each one. Jacob misjudged one of Stephen's movements and took a horrific blow to the stomach. It knocked the wind out of him and caused him to double over. Stephen rose up with his fists clenched together, intending to break Jacob's back. Jacob recovered and ducked out of the way and put a vicious kick into Stephen's side. Stephen started to stumble away, but Jacob caught him by the sleeve and yanked him back. Jacob's fist met Stephen's face and Jacob stooped low and rammed into Stephen with his elbow. But before he could stand up, Stephen smashed his knee into Jacob's head and immediately connected with a series of punches. Before Jacob could recover from that attack, Stephen grabbed Jacob's head with one hand and smashed his head with a palm strike from his other hand.
The blow looked in all seriousness to Sam like it should have crushed Jacob's skull, but it didn't. Jacob's eyes rolled back in his head and he started to fall. He forced himself back into consciousness and stopped the fall. He held his head in his hands and tears were streaming from his eyes. His senses were so scrambled he didn't notice Stephen walking up to him. Stephen brought his arm back and prepared to bring it across Jacob's head. Jacob recovered his senses just in time to see Stephen's blow coming. He flexed his hand back, curled his fingers together, and threw every ounce of his strength into his right arm. The heel of his palm intercepted Stephen's face with enough force the throw him back almost off his feet. Jacob followed him and leaped into the air with a swift kick to the face and then punched Stephen square in the center of his body, launching him onto the concrete.
Stephen began rising to his feet with difficulty. Both fighters were battered and tired, but in no condition to stop. Sam noticed something disturbing; Jacob was in worse shape than Stephen.
"Oh no. He's still weak from the fever!"
Jacob still looked pale and he was breathing harder than Stephen was. Stephen got back to his feet and Jacob immediately attacked him. Stephen ducked the initial punch and blocked the follow-up attack. Jacob kicked at him and Stephen blocked it and slipped around behind Jacob. He locked one of his arms in Jacob's and started hitting Jacob in the back of the head with the elbow of his free arm. Jacob wrestled himself free and turned to swing at Stephen. He dodged and struck Jacob in the stomach and face. He then grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him down onto his knee, then elbowed him in the side of his head to knock him down. Jacob started to get back up, but Stephen walked over and kicked him in the stomach hard enough to make Jacob roll over. Stephen followed him and kicked him a few more times before Jacob caught his foot and tossed him off-balance.
Stephen stumbled back several steps, giving Jacob enough time to stand back up and charge him. Jacob swung at him again and Stephen ducked like last time. This time Jacob allowed Stephen to counterattack. Jacob blocked his attack and grabbed his arm. Jacob used his free hand to strike Stephen in the kidneys and let go when Stephen swung at him, ducking the attack and striking hard and fast with a series of furious punches. Stephen backed off and Jacob tried to connect with a kick. Stephen caught it, but Jacob didn't allow Stephen to throw him. He jumped off his other foot and brought it across Stephen's face, causing him to let go. Jacob took his newly freed foot across Stephen's face and then hit him with three more kicks in rapid succession. The last kick knocked Stephen down and Jacob backed off.
His was breathing heavily and looking more exhausted than ever. Sam looked over at Stephen. He was kneeling and shaking his head to clear it. He slowly stood back up. He was breathing heavily, but not half as badly as Jacob was. Sam realized Jacob wasn't going to last long at this rate. She looked around for something that would help. She knew that if Jacob lost, Stephen would detonate the bomb, no question about that. She looked to her left and spotted Jacob's gun sitting in a shadow cast by a pillar. She looked back at the fighters. They were standing still, sizing each other up. She made up her mind and slowly began crawling to the gun. She gritted her teeth as every little nudge caused her broken limbs to protest, but this was something more important than a couple of broken limbs.
Meanwhile, Jacob and Stephen were at each other's throats. They had each other by the collar and were spinning around, trying desperately to attack each other. Sam looked back and marveled at how two people in the same family could fight each other to the death with such animosity. No, there was no animosity. They were just two professionals doing their jobs, and happened to be on opposite sides of a conflict. She crawled a few more feet and looked back again. They were no longer holding on to each other, but still attacking, retreating, defending, and circling. Sam thought they really did resemble wolves; vicious and powerful, noble and savage. That's the word she wanted to use to describe this fight – savage.
Jacob summoned every ounce of his remaining strength and flew at Stephen. His speed surprised even Stephen, who couldn't keep up with his redoubled attacks. Stephen tried to counter, but couldn't land a single blow, while almost every one of Jacob's connected. The blows were coming so fast and strong that Stephen found himself starting to lose his equilibrium and his vision was starting to blur. Jacob grabbed Stephen by the shoulders and head butted Stephen as hard as he could in the face, and while he was down, put all of his strength into his right arm. He came up, angled his arm just slightly, and smashed it into Stephen's jaw. The blow actually knocked Stephen into the air. The angle of the punch caused him to spin slightly, and he landed flat on his face.
And that was all Jacob had. He stumbled backwards a few steps. He was burning up from the fever, and his strength was completely gone. Stephen wasn't moving. Maybe it was over. Maybe he'd won. He'd defeated his uncle and stopped his nuclear threat. He could rest now, after this hellish week, he could finally rest. And did he ever need it.
Stephen's fingers twitched. Jacob froze.
"No, no, no, no!"
Stephen's arms flexed and he placed his hands flat on the concrete. With great difficulty, be pushed himself off the concrete and on to his knees. He placed one foot underneath him and slowly and painfully stood up. Stephen was back on his feet, and mad as a hornet. He also noticed that Jacob wasn't looking well.
"I don't believe this, you're weak with sickness and you came anyway, knowing it would put you at a great disadvantage. You're just like Samantha."
Jacob's breath was ragged and shallow. "No, I'm just like me. That's how you guys made me, remember?"
"It's a shame the experiment will have to end in such failure."
"Why's that? I'm still here aren't I?"
Stephen smiled. "Not for long." He rushed at Jacob. Jacob was able to defend the first few attacks, and then his strength was totally gone. He was too slow to block a punch and it found a home in his stomach. The blow knocked the wind out of him and he doubled over Stephen's fist. Stephen removed his fist and stood there. Jacob was struggling to stand back up and face him. Stephen smirked at the gesture and drove his knee into Jacob's stomach. Jacob spit up blood and went down to his knees, unable to stand up.
"I hope you're ready for the afterlife, nephew. It's going to be short trip."
Jacob smiled and said something inaudible.
"What was that?"
"Why don't you just do the whole world a favor and drop dead?"
Stephen responded by kicking Jacob across the face, sprawling him out on the concrete. Jacob's lungs clawed for air and his body felt like it was on fire. There was plenty of fight left in his spirit, but his body had none left. Eventually, he was able to speak again.
"So, what are you waiting for, 'Unc? Didn't you say you wanted to do this since the beginning?"
"I thought you fought to protect others from people like me. What about your mission?"
"I've done all I can, and it just wasn't enough. I've failed and there's nothing more I can do."
"And the citizens of this city?"
"Them? They're just assets. I don't really give a damn what happens to them now."
"And your friends?"
"They were with me all the way on this. They knew the risks."
"You are a good soldier, Jacob. The world needs more people like you."
"I'd prefer that not being the case."
Stephen reached into his coat pocket. It took a moment, but he realized something was missing. He searched his other pockets, his disbelief rising. "Where is it?"
"Looking for something?" Jacob opened one of his fists, revealing the tiny remote detonator."
"How did you...?"
"Heh, magicians never tell their secrets."
Stephen vaguely recalled Jacob's hand passing through his coat. "Why you insolent..." he started to reach for the detonator.
"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!"
Stephen froze. He looked to his right and saw Sam sitting there, the gun in her good hand and pointing right at him. Here eyes were narrowed in concentration and there was real venom behind her voice."
"Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air, Stephen. It's over."
Stephen sighed and relaxed his shoulders. "It would seem I'm defeated. But there is one thing I have yet to do, child."
"I know, it's surrender."
Stephen laughed. "Have you learned nothing about what my purpose is? I came here to quit this world, either by my hands or his." He indicated Jacob. "Since he is unable to fulfill that role, you must do it instead."
Sam almost dropped the gun. "What?"
Stephen drew his gun, and instead of dropping it, pointed it at Jacob. "It's time for you to make a choice, Samantha. Either he dies or I do. There is no other way out of this." He fired his gun and the bullet hit the concrete a few feet away from Jacob.
Sam held the gun as steady as she could. Suddenly the whole world was on her shoulders. She felt like everyone was watching, depending on her actions alone.
Stephen moved his gun and fired another shot closer to Jacob's head. "If you don't kill me, I will kill him. Only one of us may leave this tower. Which one will it be?"
Sam tried to aim at the gun. She could try shooting it out of his hands. She tried to center the gun on his hand, but between her exhaustion and injury, she couldn't hold the gun still for such a precise shot. She returned the sights to the middle of Stephen's body. Still she couldn't pull the trigger.
"Come on, Samantha. I'm waiting. The whole world is waiting." He fired another shot even closer to Jacob's head.
Sam still couldn't bring herself to fire. Never once had she ever been placed in a situation where taking a life was necessary. Sure she'd let Jacob do plenty of killing, but he was trained, even born for it. No, she still couldn't bear to take the life of another, no matter how despicable he was.
"Please, Stephen. Don't make me do this! Just surrender! I'm sure WOOHP will treat you well!"
"I don't care. I'm sick of all of this. I'm sick of the corruption, the violence, the hatred, and the arrogance of man. But this is not about me, Sam." Sam noticed that he'd used her nickname. "This is about you. I said you have great potential. Are you able to realize it, or will you always be second-rate?" He fired another shot just a few inches from Jacob's head. "It's not difficult. Simply point the gun and make a fist."
"Please, Stephen. Don't do this. I don't want anyone else to die. There's been too many already."
Stephen's voice became forceful. "This is the decisive moment, Sam!" He pointed the gun right at Jacob's head. "It's him or me! If this city is worth saving, then prove to me that there is one thing in this whole God-forsaken city worth saving and shoot!"
Jacob's eyes pleaded with Sam to take the shot. Sam realized then that his life was in her hands. If she did nothing, he would die right in front of her on an unfinished apartment building in the middle of LA. He might not even get a proper funeral, since his existence was a classified secret. She looked back at Stephen, his finger tightening around the trigger. She realized something. Stephen wasn't just trying to take their lives. He was trying to take their future. If he got away, neither she nor Alex nor Clover nor anyone she cared about had a future. She saw layers peeling off Stephen like an onion. He wasn't a father. He wasn't a husband. He wasn't a general. He wasn't an uncle. He wasn't even a man. He was just a terrorist bent on one thing – death and destruction.
Sam tightened her grip, steadied her arm, and made a fist.
She barely heard the gun go off. She didn't even feel it jump in her hand. When her senses returned, Stephen was lying on the ground and Jacob was trying to sit back up. He leaned over Stephen and they exchanged a few words in Russian. Stephen closed his eyes and breathed his last.
Jacob stood up with great difficulty. He staggered over the tool shed and knelt beside the bomb. He opened a panel and tore a circuit board out. The lights on the bomb went dark, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.
Jacob got back up and limped over to where Sam was sitting and wearily plopped down around the corner of the pillar from her. He withdrew his communicator and pressed the call button.
"Den Mother, this is Wolfhound. The prey is secure. Home in on my signal." He let the device drop to the concrete and leaned back against the pillar. Sam felt something cool on her cheek. She looked up and saw that it was starting to rain again. She closed her eyes and let the tiny drops dot her face. Sam could already feel the memories of the horrors she'd witnessed over the past week washing away with the rain. The cool rain felt good on Jacob's feverish skin. They sat there for a few minutes, trying to catch their breaths and simply reveling in the joy of a completed mission.
"Hey Sam," Jacob said after a few minutes.
"Yeah?"
"Good job, kid. You really surpassed my expectations."
"Thanks. It was the least I could do."
"Hey Sam?"
"What?"
"You're not a rookie anymore, not in my book."
"Thanks." Sam looked down at his hand. Both their knuckles were bruised from the fight.
"What did Stephen say?"
"He said, 'I guess this world is in good hands after all,' and then how to disarm the bomb."
"Oh."
"You okay, Sam?"
"Let's see. I've got an open bullet wound, a broken arm, a broken leg, probably some cracked ribs, and I've been beaten to a pulp. How about you?"
"I've got a raging fever and I just got my butt handed to me by my own uncle."
"Well then, I guess we're just fine, then."
"Yeah." It started with a chuckle, and then they both started laughing good and hard until a jolt in Sam's arm and a hacking cough from Jacob cut the laughter off. They opted to sit there and let the rain fall until Sam's Compowder chimed. She opened it up and saw Jerry and MacDonald on the screen.
"Jerry! What's happening?"
"Sam, what happened?"
"It's over now, Jerr. It's all over."
"You mean you've stopped Stephen?"
"I had a little help." She angled the Compowder so they could see Jacob around the corner. He gave a weak wave and a "yo."
Sam noticed that MacDonald was wearing his uniform again. "Any changes back at WOOHP?"
"Yes, why don't you tell her, Jeff?"
"The President found out about the Secretary of Defense's little stunt and got plenty mad about it. He's sent him on a little vacation and restored full control of the operation to me. I guess it's a bit late for that."
"So the FBI's off our case, then?"
"Yes."
Jerry interrupted. "We've located Jacob's signal and are dispatching a WOOHP ship to pick you up. Where are you?"
"On the roof of the Solomon Carlita Estates."
"I see. Alex has insisted that she ride out to meet you."
"Good, I hope she's not too worried."
MacDonald spoke up. "Sam, I really have to hand it to you and your friends. The odds were stacked against you and you all came through with flying colors. Everyone over here is truly impressed."
"Don't mention it."
"Jacob, I look forward to our next assignment together."
"Next one? We always work together, Jeff."
"Not for your next assignment we're not. I've decided its time for this old man to take a sabbatical. I think I'll run back up to Maine and finish that biography I've been putting off."
"A biography? Who's it on?"
"I'll let you know when I'm finished."
"Send me a copy, will ya?"
"If that's possible, I will."
"See you next time, Jeff."
"Take care, you two." MacDonald signed off.
"The zip craft should be there any minute." Said Jerry. "Are you two alright?"
"I think we've both seen better days, but we'll live." Said Jacob.
"All right then, I'll see you back here. Congratulations on a job well done." Jerry signed off and Sam closed her Compowder.
The rain continued to fall in a light spray. It fell just hard enough to cover everything in a wet sheen, but not enough to soak the two tired spies. She turned to Jacob. He was totally spent. It was all he could do to stay awake.
"So, what's gonna happen to you now?"
"They'll probably give me some time to recover, then a few days off after that. Then it's back to work as usual."
"Work? You call this a job?"
"Yep. And despite the shape I'm in, I still enjoy doing this."
"Because you enjoy protecting others?"
"Yeah, that's about right."
Sam knew they were about to part ways, but didn't want it to happen.
"Think we'll ever see each other again?"
"Probably not. It's a bad idea for people like me to form attachments, especially to other people."
"That's cruel, don't you think?"
"Yeah, but it's necessary."
"Why?"
"Because when you're in the field, people are just assets – a means to an end. Getting attached to them can be disastrous to the mission."
"Am I just an asset?"
"No, not at all."
"A partner?"
"No, you're a friend, Sam. And someone I'm glad I've had the honor of meeting."
The WOOHP ship appeared overhead and came to a halt over the roof.
"Is this where we say goodbye?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry Sam, but this is how it has to be."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"No, it sure doesn't."
"See you, Jacob."
"Goodbye Sam."
The ship descended to the roof, its engines scattering the rain and blowing water everywhere. The landing lights scanned the roof and found Stephen's body, and then found Sam and Jacob sitting there, half-dead and glad to see the ship.
Sam suddenly found herself all alone in the infirmary. Alone aside from an unresponsive Jacob. It took her a moment to realize Alex and Clover had vanished abruptly and it took a little longer to remember why.
I suppose that means they've found the bomb, she thought. Alex and Clover should be back soon, and then this'll all be over.
Sam walked around to one side of the bed. Jacob's gun and his shoulder harness lay on the bedside table. His cleaned and pressed clothes hung in the closet facing the bed. She pulled the sheets up on him, knowing he would get cold easily with a fever. Just a few more hours and we can all go back to normal, she thought. Dealing with thieves is one thing. You can always catch them and return the stolen goods to their owners. What I've seen this past week is way beyond any of that. The bomb was just the first part of Stephen's plan. After that, events would be set in motion that no one can reverse. Is this the sort of thing that Jacob deals in every day? Not only looking out for himself and those immediately affected, but also keeping an eye on the extreme-long-term effects of his actions? I just don't see how one could manage doing that on a daily basis without going insane, or at least aging prematurely. I wonder where he'll end up after this crisis is resolved? That's probably something 99.9% of America won't ever find out.
She stretched her back and arms, but not enough to aggravate the wound. She decided there was nothing more she could do here and left the infirmary. She found herself wandering around the floor until she found a waiting room with a good view of the city. The buildings around and below the WOOHP headquarters appeared as black shapes with holes cut in them to allow light to escape. Bright points of light moved up and down the serpentine roads, going about their business as usual. Sam remembered hearing about a big Lakers game tonight, which meant there would be lots of people in town. Lots of people in a town threatened by a nuclear attack without a care in the world, she thought. She envied those people. She wished she could just be home watching a movie with her family instead of worrying about the future of the entire world, unable to help. She wondered what kind of excuse she would come up with if her mom ever saw her wound. It was on her front and backside, so it would be difficult to hide. She decided to leave that for later.
"Hello, Sam. Feeling alright?" Sam turned to find Jerry standing next to her.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I guess."
"I'm sorry that you couldn't go on this mission, but I had no choice. Between your injury and the importance of this mission, I simply couldn't risk anything."
"I know, I know. I'm just upset that the world's in trouble and I can't do anything about it."
"You've done all you can, Sam. Sometimes we just have to sit back and trust others to get the job done when we can't."
"This is the same reason why we stayed on this mission. None of us could stand sitting back and watching and waiting and doing nothing while the world's in trouble."
"Well, just remember that your friends will be back soon enough, and then you can all finally go home."
"Does that mean I'm still confined to the building?"
"I'm afraid so, Sam. There's too many FBI agents watching the building right now, and I can't risk you going out alone in your condition."
Sam felt the building shake slightly, and then a pair of WOOHP zip craft eased away from the building and sped off into the night.
"So what do we do now?"
"For now it's just wait and see."
"We wait and see if they get the bomb?"
"No, we wait for them to return with the bomb and then decide where to go from there. Remember, we are still on the FBI's bad side."
"Point." She stared at the city for a little while. "Will Jacob be okay?"
"He's sick as a dog, but he'll be fine. As long as he gets plenty of rest, he should be back on his feet before the week is over."
Then he'll be shipped off to God-knows-where is what you won't say, Sam didn't add.
"Well Sam, I have a lot of things I need to take care of. Please don't wander too far." Jerry strolled out of the room and down the hall.
Sam once again found herself alone in the big WOOHP building. She wondered how Alex and Clover were doing without her. It wasn't the first time they'd gone without her, and they've always been fine. There's no need to worry about those two, she thought. They can take care of themselves. Besides, they've got a dozen WOOHP agents backing them up. No need to worry at all.
"Then why am I so worried?"
Try as she might, she couldn't shake the ominous sensations that crept through her stomach. Something wasn't right. Only this time, it wasn't her allies keeping things from her. This time, she felt as if something was horribly wrong with the current situation. It just felt too easy.
Her Compowder rang and she answered it.
"Sam here, what's up?"
"Is this Samantha?" said an eerily familiar voice. There was no video on the signal, so the screen showed only static, but that didn't stop Sam's blood from freezing. She cradled the Compowder close and went to a corner of the room, making sure nobody was looking.
"What do you want?"
"To speak to my nephew. Where is he?"
"He can't talk right now, so you'll just have to tell me whatever you wanted to say."
"Is that so? Too bad, you won't understand a word of what I was going to say."
"What?"
Before Sam could stop him, Stephen began spouting off a string of Russian. All Sam could do was hit the record button and hope to get it translated somehow. When Stephen finished his message, Sam said, "How did you contact me?"
"It wasn't easy. Your encryption software is outstanding, but not impervious."
"Congratulations."
"Why thank you. Goodbye, Samantha."
"Wait! Don't hang up!"
"If you're trying to stall me so I can be traced, it won't work."
"You're not being traced. No one knows you've called me. Yet."
"Is there something you wanted to say, then?"
Sam paused. She wouldn't get much of a chance to say anything, so whatever she said next had to be important.
"Where are you?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to find someone who speaks Russian to help you with that."
Shoot, try again. "How long have you been planning this?"
"Since I discovered Jacob was hunting me."
"Because you'd have to draw him out, right?"
"Exactly."
"So why hold a whole city at gunpoint just to get one man?"
"I already told you why. This isn't just about him and me; it's about performing the ultimate service for my country."
"Hmph, I hope you like being captured, because-"
"You've dispatched a pair of jets to come get me, right?"
"What...how did you know?"
"If I had some binoculars, I could watch the whole thing going down right now."
Oh no.
"Nice little diversion, isn't it? The last of my wolves proved useful after all."
There was a pause. "I want to see my wayward nephew one last time before I go. Please do an old man a favor and grant his last request." The line went dead, leaving Sam alone with a possible clue she couldn't understand.
"Great, now what?" She wasn't quite sure what to do with the message. On top of that, Alex and Clover were going the wrong way. The easiest thing would be to take it to Jerry, but she was worried what might happen. What would Stephen do if he spotted a WHOOP jet heading right for him? And that was only if he revealed his location in the message. What if the message was some riddle only Jacob could understand? Even families that hate one another have inside jokes. Not like Jacob's in any condition to help anyway. So where does that leave me? Stuck between a rock and a hard place, that's where.
A nurse entered the room. "Excuse me, Jacob's awake now, if you want to see him."
"Yeah, I will. Thanks."
"He's still very weak, so don't get him excited or anything." She led the way down the hall past the infirmary and to the recovery ward. They stopped at a door with a pair of WOOHP agents standing outside.
"What are they for?" Sam whispered.
"To make sure your friend doesn't try anything stupid, or at least that's what I've been told." The nurse showed her ID to the guards and they let her and Sam in. "I'll stay outside for now. Just call if you need anything." The nurse left the room.
Sam walked over to the bed and sat down in the chair beside it. Jacob's eyes were half-open, and he didn't bother moving an inch. Once again, his gun lay on the bedside table.
He looked at her and said "hey." His voice was weak and his skin still pale.
"Hi, how's it going?"
"Not too bad. The bed's comfy."
"Don't lie to me. You're sick as hell."
"This is nothing. Just a fever."
"A fever that made you collapse right in front of me."
"Like I said, a fever."
Sam could tell that his strength was already fading fast. He wouldn't be conscious for long.
"Listen," she lowered her voice to make sure the guards couldn't hear, "Stephen contacted me a few minutes ago."
Jacob's eyes widened. "Go on."
"He had a message for you, but it's in Russian. I can't understand it."
"Have you told anyone else?"
"No."
"Did you record it?"
"Yeah, most of it." She opened her Compowder and played the message just loud enough for them to hear it. When the message finished, Jacob asked her to play it again. When that was done, he was silent. It was a couple of minutes before Sam realized he'd fallen asleep.
"Hey, don't go to sleep on me yet!" She nudged him, but got no response. "Crud, not good." She shook him harder, but still got no response. She looked around the room in desperation, but it was hopeless. She stood up and paced around the room. Without Jacob to translate, she'd have to take it to Jerry, and there was no telling what would happen then. If Jacob didn't show up wherever Stephen was, he might set the bomb off. She paused next to the monitor, still at a loss for ideas. Then a label on the I.V. bag caught her eye.
"Propofol?" The name had a familiar ring to it, and she tried to remember why. After a few minutes, she remembered. She'd heard the name in her biology class, and it was a general anesthetic, the sort doctors use to put patients under in an operating room.
"I don't believe this! They've drugged him up!" Depending on the concentration, Jacob could be out for hours as long as the fluid kept dripping into his system. Sam turned the drip monitor off and disconnected the bag from the catheter.
"So this is how they're keeping him out of trouble; by keeping him out cold."
So now what?
She was about to make up her mind to see Jerry when Jacob muttered something. Sam went back to the bed and asked, "What did you say? C'mon, say it again!"
"Solomon." Jacob was totally unconscious now.
"Solomon? What kind of help is that?"
The name is familiar, but from what? She knew about King Solomon from the Bible, but didn't see how this could be related to the situation. She remembered hearing what sounded like wind over Stephen's phone, so she knew he was outside, probably away from any traffic or busy places. She walked over the window and looked out the blinds. Most of the buildings were lit up, as it was still fairly early in the evening. Once exception lay off to the right. Aside from a few security lights, it was almost completely darkened. It was still under construction, as told by the scaffolding on the roof. Sam remembered hearing something major about that building a few weeks ago. Then the name struck like a lightning bolt.
The Solomon Carlita Estates – a brand-new high-rise apartment building. It wasn't finished yet, even though the first tenants were supposed to be moving in next week. Sam pulled the list from her pocket and checked it. Sure enough, it was there.
"Is this it?" she said to no one. "Is this the real deal, or am I wrong?"
Sam found herself facing another decision. Was this the right place? If so, what should I do? What if it's not? Then what? Why'd they have to drug Jacob? When will Alex and Clover get back? Should I tell Jerry what I know? Or...should I do this myself?
The thought nailed her feet to the floor. She'd seen firsthand what kind of fighter Stephen was. She wondered if she could take him on single-handedly. She wondered what she would do once she got there. How would she take on Stephen, all by herself? Here eyes fell on Jacob's gun.
"If I get the first shot off, then I win." But could she do it? Could she take a man's life, even if she had no other choice?
I don't have to kill him, just incapacitate. But will he let me is the question.
She still wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. Too many things she didn't know. Sam knew she was a good fighter, but had no idea how she stacked up to Stephen's skill. She stared at Jacob's gun, and she remembered something he said at the apartment:
"...you and me and Alex and Clover and Jerry and everyone else involved in this operation are going to do everything in our power to stop Stephen."
He's right, she thought. If it's within my power to go fight Stephen, then that's what I'm going to do.
Sam picked the gun and harness off the table. She took off her jacket and put the harness on, adjusting the straps for her smaller frame. She holstered the gun and put her jacket back on. She looked herself in a mirror, noticing the slight bulge under the jacket. It would have to do. She stood beside the bed again.
"Jacob, you told me that we have to do whatever is within our power to stop this guy. Well, it's fallen within my power to go face Stephen by myself. I don't really see any other way around it, and I don't know what will happen when I get there. All I can say is, I've enjoyed working with you. It's probably a far-fetched hope, but, see you later."
She nodded to the guards as she left the room and down the hall towards the elevator. While she waited for the elevator to come, she remembered that the FBI had the building surrounded. She needed a way out if she was going to go see Stephen. She took the elevator to the floor where the cafeteria was, not terribly sure what she was doing. Staff and off-duty agents occupied the cafeteria. She was about to go in when she spotted Jennifer heading for the elevator. Sam caught up to her and got her attention.
"Oh, hey Sam. What's up?"
"Nothing, really. Say, if someone needed to leave the building like, right now, how would they go about doing it?"
Jennifer noticed the bulge in Sam's jacket and figured out what she was doing immediately. "Hmm, it won't be easy. The FBI's keeping a close watch on this place. You'd have to sneak out without them seeing you." Jennifer focused for a minute. "Hmm, if I recall correctly, this building and the one next to it used to be owned by the same company before WOOHP bought it. There was a service tunnel which ran between the two, but it's supposedly been sealed off."
Sam's countenance fell.
"However, I also heard the tunnel was merely closed off, and not very well at that. Supposedly the folks next door still use it for storage."
"Is there any place where the tunnel comes out on the surface?"
"Yeah, there's one I know of about a block away from the building, which is farther away than the FBI is watching this place."
"Thanks, Jenn. I owe you one."
"Don't mention it. Oh, by the way, Sam."
"Yeah?"
"Pull the trigger straight back in one smooth motion."
"What?"
"Don't jerk it back like most rookies do. That'll throw your aim off."
"Oh, thanks."
Jennifer winked at Sam and stepped into the elevator, and then she was gone. Sam took another elevator down to the basement level. A series of turns took her into a less trafficked area of the basement, where storage and utility rooms commanded most of the available space. Sam followed a corridor that ended at a door marked "NO ENTRY. EXECUTIVE AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED." Sam stepped over the chains barring the way and examined the door. It was made of NASA-grade steel, and an electronic lock held it shut. Sam opened her Compowder and plugged it into the lock. The hacking program activated and had the lock opened within a few seconds.
"Nobody's been here for years, probably."
She pulled the door open and looked inside. The smell of dust and plywood met her nose, and she could see why once her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The tunnel was packed with crates and covered things sitting on palates. Most of them had acquired a thick layer of dust. Sam supposed this was where they put things they didn't need and couldn't get rid of. She climbed over the first stack of crates in front of her and then dropped down to the floor. A narrow lane led between the crates and equipment. She followed it for many paces before a side lane appeared. She looked down the lane and saw a ladder leading up to a hatch in the roof of the tunnel. She climbed the ladder, opened the hatch, and continued up to the street level.
The opening led to an alley a good distance from the WOOHP building. Sam climbed out and looked around. Everything was still wet from the rain. Black FBI vehicles were everywhere on the side facing the WOOHP building, but it was clear on the other end of the alley. She cautiously backed away from the FBI agents and walked to the street on the other end.
Once there, she hailed a taxi and told the driver to take her to the Solomon Carlita Estates. It took several minutes, but eventually they reached the building and Sam paid the fare and stepped out. The cab took off, leaving her staring up at the towering edifice. Knowing who and what were up there sent a chill down her spine, and caused the building to appear more threatening than inviting. She took a deep breath and walked into the lobby.
Sam's farewell had not fallen on deaf ears. Jacob was still conscious, but just barely. Her words entered his ears and slowly worked their way in, percolating through his anesthesia-addled mind, slowly but surely, until they finally reached his consciousness.
Sam, you idiot! You're going to get yourself killed!
Jacob bolted awake and sat up with a start, immediately regretting doing so. His head swam, and he kept it under control as best he could. He noticed that his catheter was not connected to the I.V. bag, and when he saw the label, he realized why.
"Great, now I owe her one."
He pulled the catheter from his arm and stepped out of bed. He still felt weak, from the fever or the drugs he couldn't tell.
Not good, I'm not up to full strength. Have to make do with what I have.
He started for the door, and then it opened by itself. A male nurse and the two guards stood in the way.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Jacob, but we can't let you leave. You're still sick and need rest." His eyes belied the fact that he knew what was in the I.V. solution.
"Stand aside, this concerns the fate of the operation and possibly the rest of the world."
"I can't do that."
Jacob looked from the nurse to the agents, who returned only stone-cold glares.
Jacob sighed. "Sorry about this."
"About what?"
Jacob kicked the nurse in the shin, and delivered a knockout blow to all three of them within two seconds. They collapsed at his feet. "Sorry guys, but a friend of mine is in danger, and I'm not about to let her die because of me."
He went to his closet and found his clothes cleaned and hung up. He exchanged his hospital gown for the clothes, found his gun missing, and guessed where it was. He checked the hallway before making haste to the elevator.
Sam entered the empty lobby. The lights were on and her footsteps echoed loudly on the polished marble. She walked past the reception desk, past the lounge chairs, and past the security checkpoint, which was inactive. She followed the hallway past the first set of elevators to a second set that went all the way up to the roof. She pressed the call button and tied her hair back while she waited for the elevator to descend. She stepped in when it arrived and pressed the button for the roof. The elevator accelerated quickly and smoothly. Sam drew the pistol and checked the magazine. Full. She replaced it and jacked the bolt to chamber the first round.
She brushed her hair out of the way and pointed the gun at the floor, holding it with both hands. It felt just a little too large for her hands, but compensated by being light as a feather. She looked up and saw her reflection in the stainless steel door. Standing there with the gun in her hands, her eyes focused and her body tensed for action, she thought she looked a little like Jacob.
"Guess we're not too different, you and I."
The elevator passed the 15th floor and continued to speed towards the roof.
Alex and Clover huddled in the cramped cabin of their zip craft. Most of the agents had stayed behind to clean up, but they and a few others were sent back to WOOHP HQ. Clover's hand and wrist were tightly wrapped up, and Alex was leaning forward to see out the cockpit. Clover was muttering about how badly a cast was going to clash with all her outfits. Well, except for a couple that would sort of hide it.
"Come on, can't we go any faster?" Alex asked the pilot.
"'Fraid not. This is as fast as we can go in stealth mode. Any faster and people will be able to hear the engines."
"Well, just hurry, okay?"
"I'm going as fast as I can. Just sit tight."
Alex leaned back in her seat. It wasn't often they were led on a wild goose chase, and this time they'd been duped big time. The only thing they could do now was get back to WOOHP as fast as possible and try to figure out where to go from there.
Clover turned to Alex. "I hate wild goose chases, don't you?"
"No kidding. I wonder what we're gonna do now?"
"Well, I'm going to have to get a cast, for starters."
"Ooh! Let me be the first to sign it!"
"Of course! How could I not let by best friends be the first ones?" Her optimism surprised Alex. She figured being put out of action in the middle of a crisis would have been plenty enough to bum her out. Alex's Compowder chimed and she answered it. Jerry was on the other end.
"What's up, Jerr?"
"I'm afraid I have some bad news. Sam is missing."
"What?"
"You heard me, Sam has disappeared and we're not sure where she went."
Clover scooted closer to look at the screen. "When did she vanish?"
"About 15 minutes ago. That was the last time anyone saw her."
"We've got to find her! She shouldn't go anywhere at a time like this!"
"I'm afraid it gets worse. Jacob is also missing. His guards were unconscious and he was not in his room."
"Do you think he knocked them out?" asked Alex.
"Most likely, yes."
"How could he even move? He was sick as could be."
"He's very strong, Alex. It takes a lot to take the fight out of him."
"What about Sam?" asked Clover. "Could she have done it?"
"Unlikely. Jacob vanished well after Sam did, and the guards hadn't been out for long."
"Why do you think they left?"
"My hunch is that Stephen contacted them somehow and they've gone off to see him."
"Where did they go? Have you tried Sam's Compowder?"
"We don't know, and Sam either left it somewhere or isn't answering. There's something else you should know. Someone had given Jacob an I.V. solution with an anesthetic mixed in."
"Someone was trying to keep him out of it?" burst Alex.
"Apparently."
"How did he wake up, then?"
"One of the nurses said Sam went to visit him shortly before she disappeared. She might have disconnected the drugs, which allowed him to wake up and escape."
"What should we do?" asked Clover.
"Get back here on the double. We have to figure out where they went, and Clover needs attention." Jerry's signal ended.
The zip craft came up on the WOOHP building. Alex could make out figures waiting for them on the rooftop. The ship circled the building a couple of times to throw off its speed and then descended to the helipad. Alex's mind was still awash with questions as the door opened and agents helped them down. Why on earth did Sam take off like that? Is Jacob heading to the same place? Do they know where Stephen is? What'll happen when they get there?
The elevator slowed down as it approached the roof. It seemed to take forever to slow down and finally bring itself to a halt. The indicator read "R," and Sam stood to one side with the gun pointed at the ceiling. The doors parted and Sam peeked around the corner. The roof was fairly well-lit, but she couldn't see anyone. She stepped out around the corner with the gun ready. She quickly looked each way, and still saw no one. Like the rest of the city, the roof was still wet. The lights up here and from the city below had an eerie orange tint, bathing the rooftop in strange light. The lights from the city reflected off the low-flying clouds, the reddish afterglow adding to the already ominous atmosphere.
She walked forward, gun extended, her senses clawing at the air for anything unusual. Her ears picked up the faintest sound of metal scraping against metal. It came from just behind and to the left, almost right above where she was standing. She whirled around to the left and raised her gun to where the sound came from. The sights found Stephen standing above on the scaffolding, his gun drawn and pointing right at her.
It seemed to take forever for the gun to finally center on Stephen, and once it did she pulled the trigger right as Stephen did. Stephen's bullet grazed her side just above her waist and she felt her wound tear open. She pulled the trigger just slightly too hard and the gun fired to the right of where she was aiming. Stephen stepped off the scaffolding as she fired and her bullet tore a hole in his coat sleeve and released the faintest spray of blood. He descended on her like a ghost, his coat billowing behind him and his arms outstretched and aiming for her throat.
Sam sidestepped under his arms and knocked his gun out of his hand, and then stepped away from him and swung her gun around towards his head. Stephen blocked her arm and Sam pushed with all her might against him. She pulled the trigger and missed. She pushed harder and fired again, this time almost hitting him. She pushed again with all her might and fired the gun at his neck. Stephen twisted his head out of the way and the bullet grazed his neck, sending a small spray of blood into the air. They broke the grapple and Sam swung the gun around again. This time Stephen kicked it out of her hand and they both stepped away from each other.
"Where is Jacob?"
"He couldn't make it."
"I don't believe you."
"I'm all that you've got right now, old man."
"All the powers of Hell couldn't stop him on this night."
"Why is that?"
"If you understood that, you'd be so many levels above what you are it would boggle your mind."
"I've come here to stop you, or die trying. That's all."
"You're really ready to die to protect your loved ones?"
"Yes."
"It's a shame that we must be enemies."
Sam stepped in and closed the gap with a kick aimed for his head. Stephen blocked and countered with one of his own. Sam parried and stepped in close, launching a flurry of punches. Stephen blocked the first few and then missed one to the stomach, and Sam followed that with a right hook to the jaw and then an elbow to his gut. She jumped up and went for a roundhouse kick to his head, but Stephen dodged and countered with a couple of jabs. Sam dodged and parried and went for a punch of her own. Stephen parried it to the outside with his right hand and then brought his fist crashing down across Sam's face. He followed it with a left jab to her stomach and then sent her sprawling on the ground with his foot.
Sam quickly got to her feet. The adrenaline coursing through her veins dulled the pain and put a fire in her limbs. She clenched her fists tight and charged at Stephen. She leaped at him with a kick and he blocked it and stepped behind her. Stephen slugged her in the kidney and backhanded her across the head. Sam sidestepped to avoid his next punch and kicked him hard in the knee. The blow stunned him momentarily and took him off-balance. She punched him across the face and delivered a series of lightning fast punches to the face and stomach, following them with one heel across his face and another in his stomach. Sam tried for another kick, but Stephen recovered and grabbed it. He tried to throw her but Sam used the force to launch herself into a backwards somersault and landed on her feet.
"You're not half-bad, child. I see great potential in you, if you're willing to strive for it."
"The only thing I see in you is a monster."
"Fair enough. Terrorists aren't supposed to be nice."
Stephen took the initiative this time, quickly walking in and leading off with a powerful swing. Sam ducked it and then blocked his other arm and tried to step behind him. Stephen saw this and backed into her. He drove his elbow into her stomach and then backhanded her in the face. He swiveled around and smashed his left fist into her stomach, hit her in the face with his right, and then backhanded her again. Sam quickly stepped back, but Stephen followed her movements and started throwing more attacks at her. She managed to parry one of his kicks and throw him slightly off-balance. She stepped in hard and fast and buried her right fist in his stomach and followed with a left uppercut. Stephen stumbled back and Sam followed him with a jump kick right in the center of his chest, throwing him back and on the ground for once.
Sam was breathing hard now. She was sore all over, and a wet spot had formed where her wound was. Every time Stephen hit that area it sent shockwaves through her body, and the repeated blows to the head weren't doing much good for her equilibrium. Stephen started to get back to his feet. He was barely breathing harder than normal.
He's just bigger, stronger, and tougher than me. That's the problem. No matter, he will go down.
"I'm enjoying this, Samantha, I really am. You fight with skill and determination, traits I admire in a soldier."
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and settled into a fighting stance. "Why don't you just go back to Hell?"
"I will, but not just yet."
They attacked each other simultaneously. This time they had no regards for their own safety. No dancing around in and out of range and fancy footwork. They attacked each other with wild abandon; each one taking as many blows as they delivered. Sam was faster and more graceful, but Stephen was more experienced and far stronger. Sam grabbed his sleeves and drove her knee into his stomach, and then again. She went for a third strike, but Stephen broke her hold, hit her twice in the stomach, twice across the face, and kicked her in the leg, face and then launched her with a third kick to the stomach.
Sam landed hard on the concrete and rolled back up onto her feet. Her body ached and her breath was ragged. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this pace up.
Stephen approached. "Don't tell me you're spent already."
"No, not by a long shot."
Stephen attacked her with his feet and Sam stepped inside his kicking range. She dodged a set of fast punches and then threw a few of her own - two across the face and two more in the stomach. Stephen dodged it and pinned her arm against his side. He delivered a vicious palm strike to her chest, and Sam thought something cracked. He pulled back for another, but Sam placed one foot on his chest and then kicked off his face with the other, causing him to release her arm and stumble backwards. She ran at him and kicked him square in the jaw, then again, and again, and again. Stephen started to recover from the stunning blow, so instead of a fifth kick she jumped at him, planted one foot on his chest, and kicked off with all her might, sending him flying towards the tool shed.
Stephen slammed into the flimsy door, crashed right through it and hit something heavy just inside. It was a few seconds before he managed to pull himself out of the shed. He was breathing heavier now, but appeared nowhere near as tired as Sam.
"A fine hit, child. I've underestimated you." He stepped away from the shed and Sam's eyes widened when she saw what was inside. Stephen noticed her reaction and turned around. "Yes, what you're thinking is correct. This is what we're fighting over, is it not?"
Just a few feet behind Stephen and less than fifteen from Sam sat the nuclear weapon.
The device's lights were on and some of them were blinking. Sam wasn't sure what to make of that.
"Don't worry, it's not on a timer or anything." Said Stephen. "It is armed, however, and I'm holding the detonator."
"Hand it over, Stephen." Sam pleaded. "For the love of God, just don't do this."
"That's impossible, I'm afraid. I'll never allow you to take me alive. You'll just have to take it from my corpse."
"Please, Stephen. Why do all those people have to die? Why does anyone have to die?"
"That is the world I've lived in since I was your age. That world has no use for me any longer, so I just have to leave it. That is how things have always worked."
"I don't understand. We don't have to do things this way!"
"I have fallen from my place in this world. It has no use for me and I have no use for it. The only thing I can do is the one thing I dedicated my life to doing; protecting my country from her enemies."
Sam's breath was calming down. "A regular shooting star, aren't you?"
"Come again?"
"You've fallen from your high place, and now the only thing you can do is burn up everything you touch."
"And that's the simple truth." Stephen looked out across the city. "My time here is ending, Samantha. Death is coming for me. It's time we ended this."
Stephen charged her with all his fury. Sam could barely keep up with his assault, and took several hits from her foe. Sam finally got a chance to leap away from his relentless attack She counterattacked several times, Stephen parrying and blocking each attack. Sam barely avoided his counters and went for her own counterattack. She threw a punch to his face, and Stephen dodged out of the way, holding his left arm on the opposite side of hers. Sam saw his right arm coming forward from his hip and everything happened in slow motion. His arms collided on hers like a pair of scissors. The bones in her right arm buckled under the stress, and finally gave way with a sickening "crack!"
Her arm went limp and an intense burning sensation shot through her arm, causing her to cry out in pain. Stephen stood back and watched her hold her arm and lean over, her face twisted by pain and injury. Her hair was streaked with sweat, and her shoulders heaved as her lungs struggled for oxygen. After what felt like forever, Sam stood back up straight and forced the pain into a corner of her mind. She set one foot back and held her left hand up in defense, letting her right arm hang limp and useless.
"Still willing to fight?"
Sam said nothing, letting her intensely focused eyes do the talking.
"I see. This place is so important to you that you're still willing to fight even though you're outclassed and badly injured." He snickered. "It truly is a terrible shame that we have to be on opposite sides of this conflict."
"Shut up and fight me."
Stephen approached her. She threw out her good hand, but Stephen simply caught her arm with his left hand and clamped his right hand around her throat. A malicious smile crossed his face as he started to squeeze her neck and hold her arm in an iron grip. Sam couldn't breath. Her limbs began to go numb, and her vision was fading fast. She reached with her left hand, for what she didn't know. Everything started to become distant. She could see herself at Stephen's mercy, atop the building with the bomb on it. Everything was so clear now. She was going to die, and Stephen would kill all her friends in one act. Yet she wasn't afraid. She was totally at peace. She'd done everything she could, and she'd failed. There was nothing else left to do but die. It all seemed so simple to her.
Suddenly Stephen changed his mind. He relaxed his grip on her throat, allowing air to rush into her lungs and blood to return to her brain. Sam's lungs took in air in ragged gasps, her eyes wide from the shock of having been to the brink of death and back. Just as she was starting to calm down from her journey to the edge, he smashed his foot into her left leg. Sam felt her leg bend where it wasn't supposed to, and she could no longer stand up. Stephen released her and tossed her against a scaffold. She collapsed to the floor, her entire body screaming in pain from head to toe. Her mind was completely clouded. She couldn't think straight for more than a few seconds. She did know one thing: this was the end.
She heard the bolt of a pistol slide into place and looked up, right down the sights of Stephen's gun and into his cold, emotionless face.
"I was impressed by your courage. You deserve a soldier's death."
Sam's own problems faded away. Every fiber of her being wanted to reach out and strangle this man, but she couldn't even stand up. The best she could manage was remaining defiant and brave.
Stephen tightened his grip. "Any last words?"
Sam stared him straight in the eyes. "None you'd like to hear."
"Pity." He straightened his arm and slowly began squeezing the trigger. Sam's gaze never left his eyes. She wasn't going out as a cowering captive. The whole world stood still, like it was waiting for a great event to unfold the likes of which it had never seen before.
Stephen's finger pulled the trigger back farther and farther. The hammer's release mechanism was almost ready to spring. Just another millimeter.
And then the elevator rang.
Stephen released the trigger and pointed his gun at the elevator doors. The doors parted and Jacob casually stepped out with his hands in his pockets. He stopped when he saw the gun pointed at him.
"What's this? Have you sunk to pulling a gun on unarmed men now?"
"You."
"You yourself, uncle."
"I knew you would come."
"I wasn't about to disappoint. I wouldn't miss this for the world."
Stephen put his gun away. "Are you ready to hunt the last wolf, Jacob?"
"I've always been hunting you, the one that got away."
"I thought WOLFHOUND was done for."
"WOLFHOUND'S mission won't be complete until we've captured every last wolf, and you're the last one."
"Are you ready to finish this?"
"Yeah. It's time I finished what I started" He took several steps away from the elevator, never taking his eyes off Stephen. "Sam, whatever happens, stay out of this. This is strictly between him and me. Nice shiner, by the way."
Sam touched her left eye. The flesh around it was swollen and tender.
Jacob stopped several paces from Stephen. "Just one question, before you and I are just professionals again, what was it all for?"
"A dream. A dream of a Russia free from corruption; powerful, respected, and unified. That's what this is all for."
"Dreams are an interpretation of reality, not its reflection."
"Yet everyone has them, something to strive for that is beyond what they are actually capable of. It's part of what makes us human. What are your dreams? Even you have at least one."
"I dream of a world where people like you and I are no longer necessary."
"Even more far-fetched than mine."
"Like you said, it's something to strive for."
The two of them circled each other. Their eyes tried to bore into one another's mind, each one trying to decide what the other's first move would be. Jacob took the initiative and flew at Stephen with terrifying speed. They clashed with unbridled fury, fists flying and feet moving with poetic speed and strength.
All Sam could do was sit and watch. The speed of their fight was mesmerizing, both of them delivering and defending blows with unreal precision and skill. Almost every blow looked like it could knock a full-grown man out, and they were regularly taking hits from such attacks. She started to notice distinctions in their fighting styles. Jacob was extremely fast and used his speed to add to the force of his attacks and avoid Stephen's. He was light on his feet and very loose; letting the fight move in whatever direction it wanted. Stephen, on the other hand, was much more reserved. He kept close to himself and drew Jacob in close where he could punish him with his fast fists, making more use of grappling attacks than Jacob did. For all their differences, the two of them were evenly matched.
Jacob threw a pair of punches and Stephen swatted them away and countered with a pair of his own across Jacob's face. Jacob blocked a third punch and then stepped in with a series of rapid blows to Stephen's face. Stephen swung at him and Jacob ducked, hit him in the stomach, and then rose up and delivered an uppercut and followed through with a reverse roundhouse kick that sent Stephen staggering backwards. Jacob wasted no time and chased after him and swung at his head. Stephen parried under the punch and hit Jacob in the stomach and followed with another blow to the head with his other hand and then again to the stomach. He kicked him in the face with one foot and then sent Jacob to the ground with a roundhouse to the head. Jacob fell down but quickly recovered and got to his feet, sliding a bit on the wet concrete.
"Why do you fight, Jacob?"
"I fight to protect people from maniacs like you."
They clashed again with the same terrifying force. Stephen had Jacob mostly on defense, which proved to not be such a weakness for him. They delivered and defended many attacks, their fury rising with each one. Jacob misjudged one of Stephen's movements and took a horrific blow to the stomach. It knocked the wind out of him and caused him to double over. Stephen rose up with his fists clenched together, intending to break Jacob's back. Jacob recovered and ducked out of the way and put a vicious kick into Stephen's side. Stephen started to stumble away, but Jacob caught him by the sleeve and yanked him back. Jacob's fist met Stephen's face and Jacob stooped low and rammed into Stephen with his elbow. But before he could stand up, Stephen smashed his knee into Jacob's head and immediately connected with a series of punches. Before Jacob could recover from that attack, Stephen grabbed Jacob's head with one hand and smashed his head with a palm strike from his other hand.
The blow looked in all seriousness to Sam like it should have crushed Jacob's skull, but it didn't. Jacob's eyes rolled back in his head and he started to fall. He forced himself back into consciousness and stopped the fall. He held his head in his hands and tears were streaming from his eyes. His senses were so scrambled he didn't notice Stephen walking up to him. Stephen brought his arm back and prepared to bring it across Jacob's head. Jacob recovered his senses just in time to see Stephen's blow coming. He flexed his hand back, curled his fingers together, and threw every ounce of his strength into his right arm. The heel of his palm intercepted Stephen's face with enough force the throw him back almost off his feet. Jacob followed him and leaped into the air with a swift kick to the face and then punched Stephen square in the center of his body, launching him onto the concrete.
Stephen began rising to his feet with difficulty. Both fighters were battered and tired, but in no condition to stop. Sam noticed something disturbing; Jacob was in worse shape than Stephen.
"Oh no. He's still weak from the fever!"
Jacob still looked pale and he was breathing harder than Stephen was. Stephen got back to his feet and Jacob immediately attacked him. Stephen ducked the initial punch and blocked the follow-up attack. Jacob kicked at him and Stephen blocked it and slipped around behind Jacob. He locked one of his arms in Jacob's and started hitting Jacob in the back of the head with the elbow of his free arm. Jacob wrestled himself free and turned to swing at Stephen. He dodged and struck Jacob in the stomach and face. He then grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him down onto his knee, then elbowed him in the side of his head to knock him down. Jacob started to get back up, but Stephen walked over and kicked him in the stomach hard enough to make Jacob roll over. Stephen followed him and kicked him a few more times before Jacob caught his foot and tossed him off-balance.
Stephen stumbled back several steps, giving Jacob enough time to stand back up and charge him. Jacob swung at him again and Stephen ducked like last time. This time Jacob allowed Stephen to counterattack. Jacob blocked his attack and grabbed his arm. Jacob used his free hand to strike Stephen in the kidneys and let go when Stephen swung at him, ducking the attack and striking hard and fast with a series of furious punches. Stephen backed off and Jacob tried to connect with a kick. Stephen caught it, but Jacob didn't allow Stephen to throw him. He jumped off his other foot and brought it across Stephen's face, causing him to let go. Jacob took his newly freed foot across Stephen's face and then hit him with three more kicks in rapid succession. The last kick knocked Stephen down and Jacob backed off.
His was breathing heavily and looking more exhausted than ever. Sam looked over at Stephen. He was kneeling and shaking his head to clear it. He slowly stood back up. He was breathing heavily, but not half as badly as Jacob was. Sam realized Jacob wasn't going to last long at this rate. She looked around for something that would help. She knew that if Jacob lost, Stephen would detonate the bomb, no question about that. She looked to her left and spotted Jacob's gun sitting in a shadow cast by a pillar. She looked back at the fighters. They were standing still, sizing each other up. She made up her mind and slowly began crawling to the gun. She gritted her teeth as every little nudge caused her broken limbs to protest, but this was something more important than a couple of broken limbs.
Meanwhile, Jacob and Stephen were at each other's throats. They had each other by the collar and were spinning around, trying desperately to attack each other. Sam looked back and marveled at how two people in the same family could fight each other to the death with such animosity. No, there was no animosity. They were just two professionals doing their jobs, and happened to be on opposite sides of a conflict. She crawled a few more feet and looked back again. They were no longer holding on to each other, but still attacking, retreating, defending, and circling. Sam thought they really did resemble wolves; vicious and powerful, noble and savage. That's the word she wanted to use to describe this fight – savage.
Jacob summoned every ounce of his remaining strength and flew at Stephen. His speed surprised even Stephen, who couldn't keep up with his redoubled attacks. Stephen tried to counter, but couldn't land a single blow, while almost every one of Jacob's connected. The blows were coming so fast and strong that Stephen found himself starting to lose his equilibrium and his vision was starting to blur. Jacob grabbed Stephen by the shoulders and head butted Stephen as hard as he could in the face, and while he was down, put all of his strength into his right arm. He came up, angled his arm just slightly, and smashed it into Stephen's jaw. The blow actually knocked Stephen into the air. The angle of the punch caused him to spin slightly, and he landed flat on his face.
And that was all Jacob had. He stumbled backwards a few steps. He was burning up from the fever, and his strength was completely gone. Stephen wasn't moving. Maybe it was over. Maybe he'd won. He'd defeated his uncle and stopped his nuclear threat. He could rest now, after this hellish week, he could finally rest. And did he ever need it.
Stephen's fingers twitched. Jacob froze.
"No, no, no, no!"
Stephen's arms flexed and he placed his hands flat on the concrete. With great difficulty, be pushed himself off the concrete and on to his knees. He placed one foot underneath him and slowly and painfully stood up. Stephen was back on his feet, and mad as a hornet. He also noticed that Jacob wasn't looking well.
"I don't believe this, you're weak with sickness and you came anyway, knowing it would put you at a great disadvantage. You're just like Samantha."
Jacob's breath was ragged and shallow. "No, I'm just like me. That's how you guys made me, remember?"
"It's a shame the experiment will have to end in such failure."
"Why's that? I'm still here aren't I?"
Stephen smiled. "Not for long." He rushed at Jacob. Jacob was able to defend the first few attacks, and then his strength was totally gone. He was too slow to block a punch and it found a home in his stomach. The blow knocked the wind out of him and he doubled over Stephen's fist. Stephen removed his fist and stood there. Jacob was struggling to stand back up and face him. Stephen smirked at the gesture and drove his knee into Jacob's stomach. Jacob spit up blood and went down to his knees, unable to stand up.
"I hope you're ready for the afterlife, nephew. It's going to be short trip."
Jacob smiled and said something inaudible.
"What was that?"
"Why don't you just do the whole world a favor and drop dead?"
Stephen responded by kicking Jacob across the face, sprawling him out on the concrete. Jacob's lungs clawed for air and his body felt like it was on fire. There was plenty of fight left in his spirit, but his body had none left. Eventually, he was able to speak again.
"So, what are you waiting for, 'Unc? Didn't you say you wanted to do this since the beginning?"
"I thought you fought to protect others from people like me. What about your mission?"
"I've done all I can, and it just wasn't enough. I've failed and there's nothing more I can do."
"And the citizens of this city?"
"Them? They're just assets. I don't really give a damn what happens to them now."
"And your friends?"
"They were with me all the way on this. They knew the risks."
"You are a good soldier, Jacob. The world needs more people like you."
"I'd prefer that not being the case."
Stephen reached into his coat pocket. It took a moment, but he realized something was missing. He searched his other pockets, his disbelief rising. "Where is it?"
"Looking for something?" Jacob opened one of his fists, revealing the tiny remote detonator."
"How did you...?"
"Heh, magicians never tell their secrets."
Stephen vaguely recalled Jacob's hand passing through his coat. "Why you insolent..." he started to reach for the detonator.
"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!"
Stephen froze. He looked to his right and saw Sam sitting there, the gun in her good hand and pointing right at him. Here eyes were narrowed in concentration and there was real venom behind her voice."
"Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air, Stephen. It's over."
Stephen sighed and relaxed his shoulders. "It would seem I'm defeated. But there is one thing I have yet to do, child."
"I know, it's surrender."
Stephen laughed. "Have you learned nothing about what my purpose is? I came here to quit this world, either by my hands or his." He indicated Jacob. "Since he is unable to fulfill that role, you must do it instead."
Sam almost dropped the gun. "What?"
Stephen drew his gun, and instead of dropping it, pointed it at Jacob. "It's time for you to make a choice, Samantha. Either he dies or I do. There is no other way out of this." He fired his gun and the bullet hit the concrete a few feet away from Jacob.
Sam held the gun as steady as she could. Suddenly the whole world was on her shoulders. She felt like everyone was watching, depending on her actions alone.
Stephen moved his gun and fired another shot closer to Jacob's head. "If you don't kill me, I will kill him. Only one of us may leave this tower. Which one will it be?"
Sam tried to aim at the gun. She could try shooting it out of his hands. She tried to center the gun on his hand, but between her exhaustion and injury, she couldn't hold the gun still for such a precise shot. She returned the sights to the middle of Stephen's body. Still she couldn't pull the trigger.
"Come on, Samantha. I'm waiting. The whole world is waiting." He fired another shot even closer to Jacob's head.
Sam still couldn't bring herself to fire. Never once had she ever been placed in a situation where taking a life was necessary. Sure she'd let Jacob do plenty of killing, but he was trained, even born for it. No, she still couldn't bear to take the life of another, no matter how despicable he was.
"Please, Stephen. Don't make me do this! Just surrender! I'm sure WOOHP will treat you well!"
"I don't care. I'm sick of all of this. I'm sick of the corruption, the violence, the hatred, and the arrogance of man. But this is not about me, Sam." Sam noticed that he'd used her nickname. "This is about you. I said you have great potential. Are you able to realize it, or will you always be second-rate?" He fired another shot just a few inches from Jacob's head. "It's not difficult. Simply point the gun and make a fist."
"Please, Stephen. Don't do this. I don't want anyone else to die. There's been too many already."
Stephen's voice became forceful. "This is the decisive moment, Sam!" He pointed the gun right at Jacob's head. "It's him or me! If this city is worth saving, then prove to me that there is one thing in this whole God-forsaken city worth saving and shoot!"
Jacob's eyes pleaded with Sam to take the shot. Sam realized then that his life was in her hands. If she did nothing, he would die right in front of her on an unfinished apartment building in the middle of LA. He might not even get a proper funeral, since his existence was a classified secret. She looked back at Stephen, his finger tightening around the trigger. She realized something. Stephen wasn't just trying to take their lives. He was trying to take their future. If he got away, neither she nor Alex nor Clover nor anyone she cared about had a future. She saw layers peeling off Stephen like an onion. He wasn't a father. He wasn't a husband. He wasn't a general. He wasn't an uncle. He wasn't even a man. He was just a terrorist bent on one thing – death and destruction.
Sam tightened her grip, steadied her arm, and made a fist.
She barely heard the gun go off. She didn't even feel it jump in her hand. When her senses returned, Stephen was lying on the ground and Jacob was trying to sit back up. He leaned over Stephen and they exchanged a few words in Russian. Stephen closed his eyes and breathed his last.
Jacob stood up with great difficulty. He staggered over the tool shed and knelt beside the bomb. He opened a panel and tore a circuit board out. The lights on the bomb went dark, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.
Jacob got back up and limped over to where Sam was sitting and wearily plopped down around the corner of the pillar from her. He withdrew his communicator and pressed the call button.
"Den Mother, this is Wolfhound. The prey is secure. Home in on my signal." He let the device drop to the concrete and leaned back against the pillar. Sam felt something cool on her cheek. She looked up and saw that it was starting to rain again. She closed her eyes and let the tiny drops dot her face. Sam could already feel the memories of the horrors she'd witnessed over the past week washing away with the rain. The cool rain felt good on Jacob's feverish skin. They sat there for a few minutes, trying to catch their breaths and simply reveling in the joy of a completed mission.
"Hey Sam," Jacob said after a few minutes.
"Yeah?"
"Good job, kid. You really surpassed my expectations."
"Thanks. It was the least I could do."
"Hey Sam?"
"What?"
"You're not a rookie anymore, not in my book."
"Thanks." Sam looked down at his hand. Both their knuckles were bruised from the fight.
"What did Stephen say?"
"He said, 'I guess this world is in good hands after all,' and then how to disarm the bomb."
"Oh."
"You okay, Sam?"
"Let's see. I've got an open bullet wound, a broken arm, a broken leg, probably some cracked ribs, and I've been beaten to a pulp. How about you?"
"I've got a raging fever and I just got my butt handed to me by my own uncle."
"Well then, I guess we're just fine, then."
"Yeah." It started with a chuckle, and then they both started laughing good and hard until a jolt in Sam's arm and a hacking cough from Jacob cut the laughter off. They opted to sit there and let the rain fall until Sam's Compowder chimed. She opened it up and saw Jerry and MacDonald on the screen.
"Jerry! What's happening?"
"Sam, what happened?"
"It's over now, Jerr. It's all over."
"You mean you've stopped Stephen?"
"I had a little help." She angled the Compowder so they could see Jacob around the corner. He gave a weak wave and a "yo."
Sam noticed that MacDonald was wearing his uniform again. "Any changes back at WOOHP?"
"Yes, why don't you tell her, Jeff?"
"The President found out about the Secretary of Defense's little stunt and got plenty mad about it. He's sent him on a little vacation and restored full control of the operation to me. I guess it's a bit late for that."
"So the FBI's off our case, then?"
"Yes."
Jerry interrupted. "We've located Jacob's signal and are dispatching a WOOHP ship to pick you up. Where are you?"
"On the roof of the Solomon Carlita Estates."
"I see. Alex has insisted that she ride out to meet you."
"Good, I hope she's not too worried."
MacDonald spoke up. "Sam, I really have to hand it to you and your friends. The odds were stacked against you and you all came through with flying colors. Everyone over here is truly impressed."
"Don't mention it."
"Jacob, I look forward to our next assignment together."
"Next one? We always work together, Jeff."
"Not for your next assignment we're not. I've decided its time for this old man to take a sabbatical. I think I'll run back up to Maine and finish that biography I've been putting off."
"A biography? Who's it on?"
"I'll let you know when I'm finished."
"Send me a copy, will ya?"
"If that's possible, I will."
"See you next time, Jeff."
"Take care, you two." MacDonald signed off.
"The zip craft should be there any minute." Said Jerry. "Are you two alright?"
"I think we've both seen better days, but we'll live." Said Jacob.
"All right then, I'll see you back here. Congratulations on a job well done." Jerry signed off and Sam closed her Compowder.
The rain continued to fall in a light spray. It fell just hard enough to cover everything in a wet sheen, but not enough to soak the two tired spies. She turned to Jacob. He was totally spent. It was all he could do to stay awake.
"So, what's gonna happen to you now?"
"They'll probably give me some time to recover, then a few days off after that. Then it's back to work as usual."
"Work? You call this a job?"
"Yep. And despite the shape I'm in, I still enjoy doing this."
"Because you enjoy protecting others?"
"Yeah, that's about right."
Sam knew they were about to part ways, but didn't want it to happen.
"Think we'll ever see each other again?"
"Probably not. It's a bad idea for people like me to form attachments, especially to other people."
"That's cruel, don't you think?"
"Yeah, but it's necessary."
"Why?"
"Because when you're in the field, people are just assets – a means to an end. Getting attached to them can be disastrous to the mission."
"Am I just an asset?"
"No, not at all."
"A partner?"
"No, you're a friend, Sam. And someone I'm glad I've had the honor of meeting."
The WOOHP ship appeared overhead and came to a halt over the roof.
"Is this where we say goodbye?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry Sam, but this is how it has to be."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"No, it sure doesn't."
"See you, Jacob."
"Goodbye Sam."
The ship descended to the roof, its engines scattering the rain and blowing water everywhere. The landing lights scanned the roof and found Stephen's body, and then found Sam and Jacob sitting there, half-dead and glad to see the ship.