“I’m just saying this is an old building. Maybe you didn’t take every factor into consideration.”
“I’ve been planning this for a very long time and considered every possible scenario. Giving you even the slightest chance of escaping was never part of a single one of them.”
“Think of it as giving me a sense of false hope. Surely that appeals to you.” She cast him a sad-eyed glance and a pitiful pout for good measure.
“Hmmm...a sense false of hope...I like that...” He pulled a pair of ordinary wire cutters from his pants pocket and came toward her.
Piper held her breath to calm her rapidly beating heart. She couldn’t believe she’d convinced him, then she realized she hadn’t.
He placed the open jaws of the cutters around the thick plastic band and clenched the handle. Then he smiled as he froze his grip and held her gaze. “You want to know what my definition of false hope is, Agent Jordan?” He pulled the clippers away and tossed them across the room.
“That ought to give you a pretty good idea,” he said as he checked her bindings, giving the end of the straps a quick little tug to tighten them a couple of extra notches. Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere, he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
“I seem to be forgetting something...” he said. “What could it be?” After a thoughtful pause, he snapped his fingers. “Now I remember!”
He produced a partial roll of duct tape from his pocket, tore off a lengthy strip and slapped it across her mouth, from ear to ear. He pressed hard and smoothed it down, making certain it adhered from edge to edge. Then he leaned down real close and whispered hoarsely, “What could be more terrifying than not being able to scream when it’s the only thing you’ve got left?”
Her response, the only one she could do under the circumstances, was to flip him a pair of stiff birds as he hastened out the door.
The first blast came sixty seconds later.
The second followed no more than five minutes after that.
* * *
Carter was starting the twelfth and final flight of stairs when he heard the distant rumble and felt the minor vibrations beneath his feet. It took him a moment to realize what it was and that it originated from somewhere several floors below. Because it was fairly minor in its intensity, he wondered if there’d be more to follow.
He expected to be greeted by a couple of Sawyer’s men when he reached the top floor. When he discovered the place was deserted, he began his search.
He found her in the middle of his old office, strapped to a chair taken from the conference room. From all the squirming and wiggling, grunting and groaning she was doing, he could tell she was very much alive, and madder than hell if that last throaty screech was any indication.
Just as he stepped toward her, another rumble echoed from below, and the building swayed beneath his feet. Piper burst into another inarticulate tirade.
That’s when he saw the wires hanging from the underside of her seat.
“Piper, stay still!”
For once in her life she listened to him the first time he told her to do something and she froze.
He got down on his knees and came up behind her to get a better look at what he was afraid he’d find attached to the bottom her chair. It was a mercury tilt switch, and he was amazed that she hadn’t detonated it with all the twisting and kicking she’d been doing.
“Mmmwwwaaa...”
“Hang tight, P.J.” He lowered himself to his back and studied the device. “I’ll get you out of there just as soon as I get a better idea of what I’m dealing with here.”
“Ummhhhh?”
“If you must know, you’re sitting on a bomb.”
“Ah om?”
He sat up, wiped his hands on his pants, climbed to his feet and took a good look at her. “I need something to stabilize the tilt switch.”
Piper managed to convey How the hell should I know? with expressive eyes, a head bob and a tight little shoulder shrug.
“This ought to do it.” He pinched a corner of the duct tape and ripped it off her face with one quick yank. Then he dropped to his knees, pressed the tape over the mercury tube to keep it from shifting and stood. He did it all before Piper finished screeching.
“Jay-zus, Riggs, what the fuck is wrong with you? That really hurt! You could have given me a little warning.”
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Good to see you, too, P. J.” He pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket, crouched down and started hacking at the flex-cuff strap on her right hand with little progress.
“Riggs...”
“Not now, Piper. Either my knife needs sharpening or this stuff is tougher than I remember.”
“But Riggs...” she said again, a little more insistent.
“I mean it, P.J. I really need to concentrate so I don’t cut you, too. Whoever put these on didn’t leave any slack.”
“Riggs!” she shouted.
His hand jerked and the knife nicked her arm. The cut wasn’t deep but it did draw blood. He sat back on his heels. “What is so damn important it couldn’t wait?”
“I just thought that maybe those clippers on the floor over there might speed things along.” She pointed with the hand nearest to him.
With only a sigh to show his annoyance, Carter retrieved the clippers without further comment and had her loose with two quick snips. The knife, however, worked better on the layers of duct tape wrapped around her chest.
Just as he cut through the final layers, a blast that sounded like it came from directly below them rumbled through the empty corridors and shook the floor. He cut a little quicker as dust and plaster sifted down around their heads. “That one was a little too close to suit me.”
“Rafe Sawyer is a fucking idiot,” Piper mumbled as she peeled away the tape and took her first deep breath. “He either doesn’t have a clue about explosives or he just can’t tell time. Every fifteen minutes, my ass. That makes, what, number four already? I know it hasn’t been an hour since the first blast.”
“Sawyer told you he set the explosives?” Together they pulled off the last of the tape.
Piper nodded, then braced her palms on the chair arms in preparation to stand. Her legs were stiff and her muscles were weak, but she hoped that stretching and getting the hell out of there would get her blood pumping.
“Don’t move.” Riggs pressed down hard on her shoulders to hold her in place.
“I thought you stabilized the trip switch.” She twisted in her seat to get a look at Riggs. She didn’t like the worried frown pinching his scar.
“There could be a bigger problem.” Carter dropped down and reexamined the underside of the chair.
“The mercury switch is a dummy. The real trigger is a pressure switch. The chair would have blown the second you got up.” He stood and looked around the room. “I need something for counterbalance.”
“There isn’t much left around here to use.” Piper’s annoyance grew exponentially with each passing second. “Maybe one of the other offices has something you could use,” she suggested, needing to get Riggs out of there. She’d taken all she was going to take from Sawyer, and she wasn’t about to let him take one more thing from her.
“Hold tight,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Not if she could help it. Sawyer had already proven he didn’t have much of a talent for setting explosive charges. She was going to take a gamble that he’d screwed this up, too. She took one deep breath, held it then propelled herself out of the chair. Plastered flat against the floor, she waited. When no explosion was forthcoming, she scrambled to her feet and propelled herself out the door. When she met up with Riggs, she grabbed his arm and pulled him along with her.
“How did you...”
“Dud,” she said, heading
for the main stairs.
“This way,” he said, directing her toward the secondary staircase. They were far enough away when the explosion ripped through Carter’s office. The air pressure from the blast swept down the hall and pushed them through the doorway.
Two flights down they realized they couldn’t go any farther. There was nothing but twisted metal framework dangling from the wall and chunks of concrete.
“Dammit,” Piper said. “What do we do now?”
“The only option we have left,” Carter said, pulling a one-eighty to head in the direction from where they’d just come.
“Great plan, Riggs,” Piper commented, right behind him. “You got a small parachute on that Swiss Army knife of yours?”
“Sorry,” he said, taking the last flight of stairs two at a time. “Not even a big hanky.”
Two explosions, one from deep inside the building and the second much closer, one right after the other, echoed through the stairwell as they busted through the roof access door and into the night. The sky was dark and starless, and the updraft that whistled and swirled from between the buildings was crisp and cold.
Piper turned to Riggs. “Now what?”
She never heard his answer over the noise that erupted from above. Bathed in a bright, sweeping arc of light, Piper shaded her eyes against the glare and caught a glimpse of the man sitting in the passenger seat of the helicopter hovering overhead. Sawyer looked as surprised to see her as she did him. He leaned out of the cockpit and started shooting.
Carter drew his gun and emptied his weapon at the chopper. Two shots clipped the tail rotor. The compromised stabilizer sent the helicopter into an out-of-control spin straight toward Carter and Piper.
All it took was one quick glance at each other. They both knew what their next move would be. Together they turned and ran toward the ledge, leaping into space just as the chopper crashed onto the roof behind them. They pumped their arms and legs in a desperate effort to propel them onto the neighboring building.
Amazingly, Piper landed on her feet, but the momentum kept dragging her down, first to her hands and knees, then full-out spread-eagle, before she finally came to a halt. Stunned and breathless, she lay sprawled facedown on the tar and gravel rooftop for a long, timeless moment. She slowly moved one limb then the other until she’d taken a full body inventory. Relieved that nothing appeared broken, she rolled to her back and sat up. That’s when she saw Riggs lying awkwardly on his side, his head pressed against the corner of an air-conditioning unit.
She scrambled across the rooftop and did a quick assessment before moving him. She straightened his legs, rolled him to his back and gently eased his head into her lap. Blood seeped through his hair from a scalp laceration. She pulled up the hem of her tee and wiped the blood from his face. He flinched and moaned against her ministrations but managed to open his eyes. He blinked repeatedly, then let them close again. The effort appeared to sap any strength he had in reserve. Piper shook with helplessness. His pain was palpable, radiating off him in measurable waves.
“Stay with me, Riggs,” she told him as she smoothed her fingers across his pain-pinched brow. “Look at me, baby.”
Without opening his eyes, he grimaced and asked weakly, “Did you just call me baby?”
“Yeah...you got a problem with that?”
“Nope,” he said, slowly moving his head from side to side. “I kinda like it.” He scrunched his face and opened his eyes. He peered at her with sweet wonderment and sighed, “It was good.”
She could see how much of an effort it was for him to perform the simple actions. A thin line of blood tricked from one of his nostrils. She swiped it away with her thumb. “You’re going to be fine,” Piper told him.
“Not this time,” he said.
“You’re going to be fine,” she repeated firmly, stroking his cheek. “You’ve got to be.” She refused to believe anything less.
“Remember your promise. I’m counting on you.” They were the last words he uttered before his eyelids fluttered and closed as he slipped away.
Chapter Twenty
Piper juggled a cardboard tray bearing two large cups of milky coffee and a bag filled with a half-dozen still-warm crullers as she hustled up four flights of stairs and maneuvered through two bustling hospital corridors. Neither she nor Hannah had eaten anything since Riggs had been brought to his room after surgery, so she decided to take a little break while Hannah napped in the chair next to his bed and run to the bakery down the block instead of grabbing something less than wonderful from the hospital cafeteria.
Piper smiled as she made her way past busy nurses’ stations in the middle of shift change. Aides recorded morning vitals and orderlies pushed breakfast carts.
Optimistic couldn’t begin to describe the way she felt. Carter’s surgery had been a complete success. The aneurysm had been repaired without a single complication, and the doctors projected their own brand of conservative optimism for a complete recovery. They were just waiting for him to wake up before giving a further prognosis.
Through no fault of her own, she hadn’t been there for him during his last lengthy recuperation, but she intended on being there for this one. Piper looked forward to nursing Riggs back to health.
She bounded into his room with more energy than anyone who hadn’t slept more than an occasional catnap in the last three days should rightfully possess. Chronic insomnia did occasionally have an upside.
“I’ve got coffee and crullers,” she announced, stopping short when she realized Hannah wasn’t where she had left her. Riggs was there, of course, but he wasn’t how she’d left him, either. He was not only awake, he was sitting up and looking very much like a man who was contemplating making a break for it.
He smiled when he saw her and sniffed the air appreciatively. She wasn’t sure if his reaction was for her or the bakery bag she carried, then she realized it didn’t matter. She was just glad to see him up and looking more like his old self, and if her hands weren’t full she would be letting him know just how glad she was to see him by taking him into her arms and kissing him breathless. She reminded herself to be patient. He was a man on the mend. Kissing and hugging and all that other ensuing stuff would have to wait until she had him home.
He eyed the bag and smacked his lips. “Are those Brunner’s crullers?”
Anyone who lived in D.C. longer than fifteen minutes knew about Brunner’s legendary landmark bakery and deli. Every president since the Roosevelt administration—Teddy not Franklin—had a standing Sunday morning order for Brunner’s smoked lox and fresh bagels.
“And their world-famous breakfast blend to wash them down,” she said as she set the bag of goodies on the nightstand. Riggs grabbed the white sack before it settled on the faux wood surface. He tore into the bag and had one pastry out and downed in two big bites before she could stop him.
When he reached for a second, Piper felt compelled to ask, “Should you be eating stuff like that so soon after surgery?” She was hardly an expert on medical dos and don’ts, but she figured it was definitely worth questioning. “Maybe I should check with a nurse before you eat any more.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not on any dietary restrictions. My last surgery was weeks ago. I hope to go home today.” He finished the second cruller and licked his fingers before he reached for one of the coffees.
“What are you talking about?” she questioned in return as unsettling thoughts jumped around in her head. “You had surgery seventy-two hours ago?”
As if her question had sparked something he didn’t want to think about, his expression turned dark. “I did?” he questioned, obviously unhappy to admit the lapse in memory. “I’ve had so many surgeries over the last year, they’re beginning to blur. What was it for this time?”
“To fix the aneurysm,” Piper replied.
; “I never gave them permission for that. In fact, I was very clear about not treating it at all.”
“You sort of ran out of options when it ruptured.”
He set the coffee cup aside, as if it had lost its appeal, and sat back. She’d never seen him look so dismal.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Everything went well. According to one doctor, it was a textbook procedure. The aneurysm’s history, and you’ll be good as new in no time.”
“I don’t remember any of it.”
“Well, I guess that’s to be expected. You’ve been unconscious since it happened.”
He was wearing that slightly confused look again, but at least the anger appeared to have abated and he wasn’t frowning anymore. In fact, he seemed downright uncomfortable with his present state, as if sitting in a hospital bed wearing one of those charming gowns made him less of a man in her eyes, and she wasn’t sure how to let him know it didn’t matter one way or the other. She’d seen him wearing a lot less, but she prudently decided to let it go without comment.
He snatched up the abandoned coffee cup and took a long swallow, then a second. When he took a third, it was obvious to her that he was using the time to formulate what he was about to say next. By the time he set the cup aside, she was ready to explode from waiting.
“What I’m having a hard time understanding is why you’re here, and why you know so much about my medical condition. There are privacy issues here that have obviously been grossly violated, and I’d like to know who I should address about them.”
Piper took a couple of staggering steps backward. He spoke like she was nothing more than an interfering stranger. Maybe that was all she’d ever been, and he was better at pretending to be something he wasn’t than she was. Good thing there was an empty chair waiting to catch her when the uncontrollable urge to collapse came over her.
“Your mother told the doctors it would be okay,” she stammered, immediately realizing she’d just pointed a finger at the one person she should have been protecting from his ire. She sure hoped Hannah didn’t choose that moment to reappear.
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