Chapter 15: Showdown
7 p.m.
Jack kept the flashlight beam about six feet ahead of him, scanning the floor and walls for signs of trigger mechanisms. He had no way of knowing whether Graham's "surprises" were in the form of alarms or weaponry, so he opted to believe the worst. That mentality had kept him alive in this job for quite awhile now.
He'd only gotten about ten feet when a second beam reached his sightline and a voice whispered from behind him.
"Tripwire."
Jack froze, shining the beam around.
"Six o'clock, about five inches from your foot."
He gingerly stepped over the wire, then sighed and whispered back, "Thanks. Wow, you made good time from clear—"
The silhouette that stepped toward him was the right height, but more slender than he'd expected. Jack's voice reflected his concern. "What are you doing here?"
"Watching your back." Myles stepped over to him. "Bobby's still at least a minute behind me, so I thought you could use an extra set of eyes."
"You do realize the mess you're putting us both in."
Urgency tinted the baritone voice. "You're not going alone. I'm not armed, he'll never see me, and we're wasting precious time. Any further complaints?"
Jack sighed again and shook his head. "No. Come on, then. And keep your eyes open."
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She wasn't able to repress a breath of relief as his hand finished its stroke down her back without any removal of her clothes. Graham watched her with almost a clinical detachment, but his eyes were bright.
"Hmm. Interesting."
Her eyes shot up to meet his, and her voice dripped scorn. "What?"
"It would appear the mere suggestion of sexual contact is enough to unnerve you."
"I can't imagine why." She rolled her eyes at the ceiling, trying to regain her equilibrium. "Must be the company."
He ignored her, still in analytical thought. "I can have some fun with this. The intimation alone should be enough destructive force. By the time I get around to actually touching you, your psyche will already be so shattered that you will indeed beg me to just kill you."
The anger flared again, and she embraced it. Gathering it around her, she responded as no words could convey; she spat directly in his face.
He backhanded her, snapping her head sideways until it connected with the support post. The sensation was like being hit twice, and her head spun. Tears sprang up, but she looked directly at him, green eyes blazing.
"Point for me, Evan," she rasped. "Your temper is my weapon. I keep your fury aimed at me, there's no room for the scientist. That's my power over you. A woman, in control of Evan Graham. Boy, I bet that just kills you."
His fist slammed lower this time, catching her right below her diaphragm. She gasped for air, her shoulders aching as the reaction doubled her over, wrenching them in their sockets. Before she could recover fully, though, he pressed her back up against the post, pinning her in place. The clasp he'd avoided moments ago was irrelevant as he reached under her blouse and ripped the fabric beneath apart with his bare hands. His fingers pinched her hard, the nails just long enough to send sharp spasms of pain through her chest. It took all she had not to cry out, and when he released her she looked down to find two points of blood on her shirt.
"And that's just with my hands," he hissed in her face. "You just wait until it's my teeth."
Elizabeth let the tears fall freely now, but she met his anger with her own. "You won't get the chance. I know your soft spot, Graham, and I'll use it until I'm dead at your feet and you no longer have a toy for your amusement."
"Not if I break your jaw first, you won't." He hit her again, and for a split-second she thought he'd done just that. Then she heard a voice that sounded as if it were from heaven itself.
"I think you've done quite enough damage to the lady for one day." Jack Hudson was in the doorway, gun pointed directly at Graham. "Make that for a lifetime. Hands on your head."
The relief that surged through her was so intense she almost blacked out. Unfortuately, the reaction brought her forward just enough to block Jack's line of fire. Graham reacted almost instantly, stepping behind the support post, using her as a shield. His own gun came out from the back of his waistband, and he fired practically from the hip. The point-blank report from the handgun nearly deafened her, and stunned her enough that she almost missed the result.
Almost in slow-motion, Jack spun backward into the doorway, landing with his body halfway out in the tunnel. She couldn't see his face, but there was no movement.
"Jack!" she gasped.
"One down," Graham chuckled. "Pity. That does mean that we're not going to have time for all I had planned."
He walked over to the desk and opened a small black case. He then picked up a hypodermic needle and a small vial. A single movement and the needle was filled. "You know," he said, all business again, "I never tested my little warfarin brew on a conscious victim. I have no idea what, if any, side effects there will be. But I do know this; as soon as it takes effect, in less than five minutes, any injury you've already sustained will be bleeding uncontrollably. You will die." He looked her up and down once. "Rather rapidly, I would surmise. Truly a pity."
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Myles stared at the still form in front of him, clamping down control so hard it almost hurt. First Elizabeth, now Jack…even if it is just a graze… He pressed his handkerchief to the bleeding spot on Jack's temple, listening to Graham's words and knowing there wasn't time to wait for Bobby. Ripping off his tie, he quickly secured the handkerchief to Jack's head, then took a breath, slowly reaching for his friend's firearm. I can't let him hurt anyone else. No more.
A hand grabbed his, and the index and middle fingers of the other hand tapped twice on the thumb. NO.
The blond agent gazed at him for a second, then signed STAY S-T-I-L-L.
NO. Jack pointed at him, then spelled NOT D-O T-H-I-S.
Myles made sure Jack could see what he was doing as he locked the safety on the gun. B-U-Y T-I-M-E B-O-B-B-Y. He pointed at the locked safety. MY W-O-R-D O-N I-T.
Jack closed his eyes against a fresh pain, but he knew it was the only way. He nodded slowly. YOUR W-O-R-D T-A-K-E. C-A-R-E-F-U-L.
A faint smile and a nod were the only response, and Myles rose silently and stepped into the doorway.
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Her breathing came faster and shallower as she watched him, taking each step maddeningly slow, that damn smile on his face, taunting her with the fact that she was about to die, excruciatingly, if any of what he'd just said were true. But he hadn't touched her as he'd planned, hadn't been able to destroy her; somehow that made it easier to face. She knew the team had tried their best; undoubtedly someone else would show up, but it would be too late. She only hoped Jack was okay.
"I suggest you stop right there."
Elizabeth's head snapped around. As wonderful as it was to see him, the sight of Myles standing there with a gun trained on Graham terrified her more than the idea of Graham killing her. Oh, no, love – I can't let you ruin your career for the likes of him – not even if it saves my life.
Graham's face lit up, seemingly unconcerned about staring down the barrel of a .45. "Ah, milady's knight in shining armor. Oh, wait." He studied Myles for a second. "No Kevlar. Guess Galahad left his armor home. Pity."
The blond agent never moved. His eyes bored right through the other man. "Put the needle on the desk, Graham, and then I want your hands on your head."
Almost jauntily, Graham moved back toward the desk, laying down the hypodermic carelessly as he continued to study the agent. "I did rather a good job on your fair lady's face, wouldn't you say?"
No, Myles, don't look. Keep your concentration on him. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst.
"Put your hands on your head, Graham. Now." The control in his voice wavered just slightly, but his eyes never moved.
"Or what? You'll shoot me?" There was even a swagger in the man's voice. "I would love to be around to hear you explain that one to your superiors. What you were doing in the middle of a showdown with the perpetrator in a case you're not supposed to be anywhere near. I imagine that would raise quite a few questions."
Graham actually took a step toward Myles. "And after I did you a favor by taming your wild one over here. She's rather a handful, isn't she? But you just have to know how to handle them."
"You tamed nothing," Elizabeth spat at him. "And you lose your chance to run me through your little gauntlet. Game, set, match."
"Not quite, lovely one," Graham purred. He then cocked an eyebrow at Myles again. "Aren't you even going to look at your lover, …Myles?" His voice lowered, seeking access into yet another psyche. "How can you stand it, not knowing just how badly I beat her up? I guess your sense of duty is deeper in your heart than she is after all."
No, Myles, don't… She heard ever-so-soft footsteps approaching, and prayed that the control would hold a minute longer.
But Graham had found the right button to push. A split-second's shift of the blue-grey eyes, but it was enough. Elizabeth watched helplessly as Graham's gun flashed again and the deafening roar echoed with the scream in her heart.
Myles slammed back against the wall and slumped to the floor, his gun spinning across the floor to just inches from her feet.
"Nooooo!" Her hands jerked against the handcuffs again, and the metal bit into her wrists, but she couldn't feel it. Felt nothing but the agonizing wrench in her heart as she willed him to move, to breathe, anything to let her know it was all a nightmare.
Evan Graham walked calmly back over to the desk and picked up the needle again. "So romantic," he sighed dramatically. "You can watch each other bleed to death."
She stared him down, not even caring anymore, as he unbuttoned her slacks, pushing the material off one hip just enough for the hypodermic.
His voice was soft, the glint in his blue eyes manic as he raised the needle high to give her a good look at it. "'Do not go gentle into that good night,'" he whispered. "And you will not, believe me. There is nothing gentle about the way you will die."
A third gunshot echoed around the room just then, and the hypodermic exploded in Graham's hand. He shot backward, landing on the cot in a heap, his own gun landing a good six feet away.
"Hands on your head, mate." Bobby Manning advanced until he was only a foot from Graham, the gun pointed right at the man's head. "And I'd recommend doing it this time, because if you so much as flinch in the wrong direction, I'm gonna air-condition your sorry backside but good. Do you read me?"
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She should have felt relief; but it wasn't there, only a towering grief and rage at Graham. Stretching up until she thought her arms would break, Elizabeth managed to slide the cuffs off the hook. Without even a second thought, she bent down and picked up Myles' gun.
Bobby had Graham cuffed, and spoke as he was pulling the man to his feet. "I'd let you down right now, Liz, but I think you'd feel better if I didn't let go of this drongo. D should be here in a sec." As he turned around, he saw Elizabeth and his eyes widened. "Liz, what are you doing?"
Elizabeth straightened her arm and braced the gun with her other hand, just like Myles had shown her once at the shooting range. The muzzle came up and she sighted a spot right between Graham's blue eyes.
"Ending this," she said, her voice dead. "For good."
Graham smiled at her. "Of course. A perfect ending. You shoot me, and your whole world comes crashing down. Your enemy… your lover… your whole life… all dead. Game, set, match, Dr. Dillingham. So go ahead."
The gun was shaking now, but not enough that she'd miss. Bobby stepped around just enough to put himself between the gun and Graham. "Liz, this isn't you. Put it down. Please."
"Why?" Tears were streaming down her face now, the ache in her heart nearly suffocating her. "What have I got left? Nothing. Get out of my way, Bobby. I'll save the taxpayers a trial here and now."
He shook his head. "No can do, sheila."
"You're protecting HIM?" Her voice broke.
The Aussie looked at her with an intense compassion, trying to break through her trauma. "I'm protecting you. Besides, I think there's someone who would prefer you not end up in jail."
A warm hand closed over hers on the gun and drew it downward. Her eyes drifted shut, but not before she saw Graham's eyes widen in shock, then narrow in defeat.
"Game, set, match." A soft baritone voice spoke, with a thread of steel underneath. "Get him out of here, Bobby."
"You got it, mate. Welcome back." Bobby grinned as he hustled Graham out of the door Dimitrius and his team had just broken through to.
She was afraid to look up as slender fingers worked deftly on her handcuffs, picking the locks and releasing her at last. It was too much to process right now. How? I saw him go down hard. This can't be real.
But as the blond hair came into her view, as he knelt to unlock her ankles, she knew it was. She tentatively reached out, still not quite daring to believe; but when her fingers touched his hair, the control she'd been clinging to evaporated, and the tears grew into great gasping sobs. "You're alive!" was all she could manage.
Myles stood up and pulled her tightly into his arms. "It's over," he whispered into her hair. "It's all over. You're safe now." He lifted her chin until she could look into his eyes, and she saw the horror in their depths as he surveyed the damage. An infinitely gentle finger stroked the bruise around her eye, followed by the lightest brush of his lips on her forehead. "There's an ambulance waiting upstairs. Can you walk?"
She leaned against him again, nodding, not ready to release all the emotion she needed to, but joyous in the strength of his embrace all the same. Then she pulled back, a puzzled expression on her face. "What the—?" She placed her hand on his chest, pushing against the hard surface she felt there.
He chuckled. "Lightweight personal body armor, a new design by one of our geniuses down in R & D, better known as 'The Gadget Factory.' Won't do much against heavy stuff, but against a handgun, even at close range, it'll handle everything except armor-piercing, and it'll even slow that down considerably."
"So you're not hurt?"
He shook his head. "It'll likely be a little tender where the bullet hit, but no worse than when the Kevlar took a shot for me a while ago. I'm fine. But Jack's not, and you need to be checked out, too."
"I'll get Jack." Dimitrius stepped past them. "You just stay with her. Since you weren't even here."
"Excuse me?"
D gave him a look. "Even if that gun's safety was locked, you still shouldn't have been down here. Garrett will suspend you for a year, and that's if he's in a good mood. Since you aren't on the case, you don't have to fill out a report, and the rest of us never saw you down here. Got it?"
"Got it." Myles nodded. "Although somehow I doubt that will be enough." He looked down into Elizabeth's eyes and smiled. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get out of here."
Elizabeth felt the knot of tension and terror begin to loosen, just slightly. There was a long road ahead, she knew well, but she would not face it alone. Tears came again, but these were healing, basking in the love she felt for and felt from the man at her side. The smile about killed her, as battered as her face was, but the relief and mounting joy made it inevitable. "Let's."
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