Cut to the Bone

by Ellison Cooper

  Dr. Lilenhammer paled. “This is the great failing of our mental health system. That poor man was experiencing a severe mental health crisis but there was no way for me to help him. No system in place to protect him from himself and others from him.”

  Sayer was about to ask about his exact date of his time in the hospital when a floorboard creaked in the hallway.

  They both turned toward the sound.

  “I thought you said we’re alone here,” Sayer said softly.

  “We are.” Dr. Lilenhammer looked confused. “I suppose it could be someone returning early.” He got up and walked toward the door.

  An alarm shot along Sayer’s spine. Something wasn’t right.

  “Wait,” she whispered sharply.

  The doctor froze at her harsh tone.

  Sayer held a finger to her lips, gesturing for silence. Trusting her instinct, she carefully stood up and put the file onto her chair.

  Lilenhammer looked slightly amused at her caution, but didn’t make a sound.

  Hand on her gun, Sayer quietly moved to the door. She made sure the bolt was locked and strained to hear anything moving outside.

  Heart beating in her ears, she waited, listening to the heavy footsteps making their way slowly down the hall.

  UNKNOWN LOCATION

  Kate let out a cry at the sight of the massive wooden doors at the far end of the chamber. She’d run for what felt like forever across the cold sand.

  The sounds of the attack on the bus faded behind her and she strained to hear what had happened. The plan had been to bring down Walter permanently, even if that meant killing him. But, if they could only incapacitate him, they were all going to file off the bus, lock him inside with the same metal bar he’d used to lock them in, and follow her to the exit.

  But now she’d made it to the edge of the chamber only to find old doors held tightly together with a heavy chain and padlock.

  She tried to work them apart, but she could only manage to slide them an inch or two. Eyes watering with frustration, she looked left and right. Curving brick walls disappeared into the darkness in both directions.

  What was this place?

  “There has to be another way out,” she said to herself firmly. The others would be there soon and they would figure something out together. If they killed him, they would just have to go get the key off his body. Until she knew for sure what happened, she would scout for alternative escape routes.

  She decided to head right and walked along the wall, counting steps as a way to ratchet down the building sense of dread flooding her body.

  The rhythmic count—step, count, step—of her walking was interrupted by the sharp echoing crack of a gunshot.

  Kate’s entire body jolted at the sound.

  He had managed to get his gun out. Or had one of the girls gotten it from him and used it?

  Trapped in the massive chamber with no escape, she waited in the echoing silence until she heard the sound of at least two sets of uneven footsteps on the sand.

  Kate turned to face whoever was coming. She hoped it would be Nell, holding Walter’s gun, a triumphant smile on her face.

  When Walter emerged from the shadows, Kate’s breath left her body as though she’d been punched in the gut.

  He held a gun pointed at Nell as she stumbled along beside him. They were both covered in blood. Walter limped and had multiple gashes on his face already swelling into monstrous lumps.

  Blood stained Nell’s side, flowing from an unseen wound at her waist. She seemed barely conscious.

  Walter spotted Kate and opened his mouth, letting out a droning roar that welled up from the very depths of hell.

  Kate faced him and, as he moved in on her, she let out her own warrior scream.

  DR. LILENHAMMER’S OFFICE, THE HEARING VOICES INSTITUTE, GREAT FALLS, VA

  Sayer stood against the wall as the creaking footsteps reached the end of the hallway.

  With a deep boom, the door splintered inward.

  Sayer dodged backward to avoid the explosion of metal and wood. She slammed into the chair behind her, knocking Dr. Lilenhammer’s notes everywhere.

  A broad-shouldered man holding a shotgun pushed his way through the gaping hole in the doorway.

  She managed to unholster her Glock, but couldn’t get it up in time.

  “Don’t” was all he said as he aimed at Sayer.

  She recognized the fake FBI agent who had attacked Tino in the hospital. Between his unnaturally broad shoulders and thick arms, she understood why Tino had described him as a meat shield.

  “Ah, the famous Agent Crenshaw,” she said sarcastically.

  He didn’t move, gun steady at Sayer’s head, but he did let a smile spread across his face.

  “Agent Altair. Glad to see you living up to everything I’ve heard about you. Now, put the gun down and kick it over here so I don’t have to shoot you.”

  As she gently placed the gun at her feet and nudged it away, Sayer’s eyes darted over to Dr. Lilenhammer who stood next to his desk, arms loose at his sides. She was surprised to see his relaxed hippie aura still intact despite the gun-wielding asshole menacing them.

  The fake FBI agent looked slowly around the room, zeroing in on the notes Sayer had scattered on the floor.

  “I’m going to need you to pick those up and bring them to me.” He gestured to Dr. Lilenhammer.

  The doctor nodded casually and, with fluid grace, picked up all the papers and organized them quickly into the file folder. “All yours, my friend. We’re happy to cooperate. No one needs to get hurt here.”

  Sayer recognized the soothing tones that experienced hostage negotiators used and her respect for Dr. Lilenhammer went up a few notches.

  “Glad to hear it, Doc.” His eyes ranged around the room with practiced vigilance. They finally settled on Sayer and he squinted with disdain. She could see his finger twitching against the gun like he wanted to shoot her. “You’re lucky you’ve got friends in high places,” he growled.

  Without further comment, he swung the gun toward Dr. Lilenhammer.

  A less well-trained assailant might broadcast his intention, but this man was casual as his finger slid smoothly to the trigger.

  It was only at the last second that Sayer realized he was about to shoot the doctor.

  With a roar, she thrust herself at him with all her strength.

  She slammed into his arm, knocking the gun aside just as it recoiled with a bang, missing Dr. Lilenhammer, who dove for cover behind his desk.

  Sayer had hoped to knock the massive man down with her attack, but he didn’t even stagger.

  Without making a sound, he turned on her, swinging the butt of the shotgun against her left side.

  It connected with her ribs and she was tossed back.

  She managed to get her feet under her and spun away from the shotgun swinging toward her head. On the balls of her feet, Sayer skipped backward out of his reach until she hit one of the French doors leading out to the balcony.

  The man turned to fully face Sayer.

  Taking advantage of his attention on Sayer, Dr. Lilenhammer flung himself onto the man’s back. The sudden weight on his shoulders forced the man to throw an elbow, swatting the sinewy doctor to the floor.

  Sayer realized that her gun was only a few feet away and she dove for it as the man hunched down and began to charge.

  Her fingers closed on the Glock as the man’s shoulder connected with her chest. His momentum took them crashing back through the French doors.

  Gun in hand, Sayer landed against the balcony railing, body bending dangerously over the river rapids far below.

  The man used his weight to press her body farther back and Sayer felt her feet leave the balcony floor. She was going to topple into the raging Potomac.

  He reared up to punch her in the face.

  The gun fumbled against her fingers and she realized she wasn’t going to get it up in time. Instead, she shifted her weight, preparing to try and throw him off
her, when his head exploded.

  Blood and gore spattered across the balcony back toward the building.

  The man’s muscles went slack, brain messages cut off like a puppet’s strings. He flopped forward, his dead weight on Sayer, and she scrambled to get out from beneath him.

  His momentum almost took him over the railing, but she managed to pull him back and onto the tile floor.

  Blinking in confusion, Sayer looked down at the very dead man then up at Dr. Lilenhammer. He stood, wide-eyed and empty-handed.

  “Who…” She spun in a circle, trying to understand where the shot came from.

  Lilenhammer pointed across the river, hands steady.

  Sayer turned just in time to see a figure running away, a long gun in his hands.

  Dr. Lilenhammer stepped out on the balcony to watch the shadowy figure disappear. “That was one hell of a shot.”

  Sayer wiped blood from her face and nodded, not sure what the hell was going on.

  UNKNOWN LOCATION

  Walter and Kate howled at each other across the sand.

  He dropped Nell’s arm, letting her collapse to the ground. Roaring like a wild animal, he charged Kate, who stood firm, screaming her own guttural sound.

  If he was going to kill her now, she decided to go down fighting.

  She managed to dodge to the side as he tried to slam his shoulder into her body.

  When his charge didn’t connect, his forward momentum caused him to stumble slightly and Kate stuck out with her fist, trying to punch him in one of his wounds.

  Her hand connected with his cheek, but didn’t make the satisfying thud she was hoping for.

  Instead, it landed with an unsatisfying smack that seemed to hurt her hand more than his face.

  She let out a cry of frustration and tried again as Walter regained his footing and turned on her like a spring being released.

  He easily deflected her second punch and simply grabbed her by the upper arm. His fingers felt like cold iron pressing into her flesh.

  Though she tried to twist her body around to hit him again, he simply used her arm to turn her away. Unable to reach his body, she wrapped her hands around his thumb and fingers, trying to pry them off.

  Sobbing, she realized that his hands were simply too strong for her to move.

  For the first time in her life, Kate felt helpless and it made her kick out with futile anger.

  Grunting with frustration at her writhing and shouting, Walter lifted her off the ground. He holstered his gun and, ignoring Kate’s flailing, he hurried back over to Nell so he could pick her up with his free hand.

  Holding them firmly, he half carried, half dragged the two girls away.

  Terrified, Kate managed to look back at their footprints across the sand and wondered what had happened to the rest of the girls back on the bus.

  THE HEARING VOICES INSTITUTE, GREAT FALLS, VA

  The thrum of adrenaline in Sayer’s veins faded to a dull buzz as she watched the evidence team swarm Dr. Lilenhammer’s office. A medical examiner hunched over the dead man in the glow of dusk, preparing him for transport back to Quantico.

  “Sayer?”

  Sayer’s attention snapped to Ezra who had insisted on coming out to the scene. He leaned on his cane, eyes crinkled with worry.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You didn’t hit your head?”

  Sayer rubbed the back of her head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s my ribs that hurt a hell of a lot more than my head.” She shifted slightly and a fiery spike of pain radiated in a band around her chest.

  “Broken?” Ezra moved to probe her side.

  “Eh!” Sayer stopped him with her tone. “I can move and breathe just fine, so nothing’s broken. I’ll get it checked once we’re done here. What’ve we got?”

  Ezra scowled with disapproval, eyes boring into Sayer. When she didn’t back down, he sighed. “Fine. But you go see the doctor as soon as we’re done here. The team across the river hasn’t found any sign of the mystery shooter. He knew how to cover his tracks. They just dug the bullet out of the wall. Six point five mm, so a long-range rifle. That shot had to be seven hundred feet, or more. Guy knows how to shoot.”

  “Military?” Sayer asked.

  “Maybe, or just a competitive shooter. I’ll check regional shooting clubs.”

  Sayer grunted approval. They should follow all possible leads, despite the fact that she couldn’t help but suspect that Subject 037 had someone assigned to watch out for her. “And our fake FBI agent? ID?” she asked.

  “Not a damn thing. I’ve scanned his prints and I’m running them through AFIS, but no hits so far. The techs are using the new instant DNA machine in the mobile lab so we should know if he’s in our system in a few minutes.”

  Still feeling the aftereffects of adrenaline, Sayer gingerly walked over to the medical examiner who hovered above the dead man. She had pulled up his shirt to take a liver temperature.

  Ezra followed, letting out a little tut sound at the sight of the man’s bare chest. “This guy’s like a cautionary ad for steroids,” he said. “I mean, he looks like a flesh-covered sack of boulders rather than a man.”

  The ME frowned with disapproval. “I would agree that his muscles are unnaturally overdeveloped. Check out his scars.” She pointed to the latticework of random scars weaving jagged trails across his entire torso. “These look like shrapnel wounds to me. Obviously I’ll confirm at autopsy.”

  “So maybe foreign military. His fingerprints would be in the system if he were American military.” Sayer stared down at his now slack face and overmuscled shoulders. Why had this man pretended to be an FBI agent to gain access to Declan in the hospital? And why had he showed up here? He’d obviously been after the information Dr. Lilenhammer had about Luke Windsor. Was this man working with Windsor? Or was he hunting him?

  “I swear, I feel like this guy is a step or two behind us on this investigation. Maybe he’s trying to track down Windsor just like us. We need to figure out who the hell he is,” Sayer said, voice monotone. She recognized the flat affect of post-adrenaline letdown. Her whole system was going to shut down soon if she didn’t take a few deep breaths and probably eat something.

  “Dr. Altair.” Dr. Lilenhammer had just finished his debriefing and came over to Sayer. “Thank you. If you hadn’t knocked that shotgun aside.” He bowed deeply, hands pressed into a prayer pose at his chest. When he stood back up, his eyes shone with an almost manic aura. “I often struggle to remember how fleeting life can be. Nothing like a genuine near-death experience to remind me.” Despite the trauma he’d just been through, the doctor seemed entirely unperturbed. Joyful almost.

  Sayer was always skeptical of people peddling spiritual woo-woo, but she decided that this man was one of those rare weirdos who genuinely experience some kind of inner peace.

  “Thank you for the distraction when I needed one.” She returned the half bow and immediately regretted it as her rib twinged like she’d pressed a burning dagger into her side.

  “You need a doctor.” Lilenhammer put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Of the medical and mind variety I’d wager.”

  Sayer wanted to respond sharply, but realized that was just the jittery sensation of pain wearing on her nerves. “Probably so,” she said noncommittally as she turned to Ezra. “How are we on possible body dump sites for tonight?”

  Ezra shook his head. “We’ve got a few possibilities. The reflecting pool on the Mall. It’s watery and reflects the Washington Monument so there’s the Egyptian symbolism.”

  Sayer thought about her experience when she was there to process Becky’s body. “He has been really focused on the Mall area. That seems promising. What else?”

  “They also think the House of the Temple, the Masonic lodge on 16th Street, is a possibility. It’s not watery, but the building is a partial pyramid and has two Egyptian sphinxes flanking the main entrance.”

  Sayer nodded.

  “Lastly,” Ezra continued, “e
ven though it’s outside of the city, they suggested we keep an eye on the George Washington Masonic National Memorial.”

  “The one in Alexandria?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t know that Alexandria, Virginia, was, you know, named after the actual Alexandria in Egypt. Apparently the memorial there was built to look just like the ancient Lighthouse of Alexandria so that could be our water connection.”

  Sayer frowned. “The reflecting pool seems like our best bet, but I want five undercover agents at each spot. And make sure we have a SWAT and hostage team on standby somewhere central. If anyone so much as sneezes strangely in one of our possible dump zones, I want them nearby so we can scramble them in ASAP. And make sure everyone knows that we need him alive. He’s the only one who knows where the girls are. If he dies, we might be sentencing all of those girls to death, so stress how important it is that we bring him in breathing. I’m going to swing by the hospital and get my ribs wrapped, then let’s reconvene at Quantico to keep an eye on everything as it unfolds.”

  “On it,” Ezra said.

  Sayer made sure everything was running smoothly at the crime scene, then hurried down to her bike. It was probably going to hurt to ride to the hospital, but she wasn’t about to go back upstairs and ask for a ride.

  Knuckles white, she climbed awkwardly onto the Silver Hawk and tucked her curls into the helmet. Eyes watering with pain, she slid her arms into her riding jacket and glanced down at her phone. It was already past 7:00 P.M. Not even two hours before Windsor was most likely going to murder another child.

  Gritting her teeth, Sayer rode down the long driveway under the dark sky.

  GEORGETOWN PIKE, GREAT FALLS, VA

  The motorcycle jostled Sayer’s rib cage as she rumbled along the narrow Virginia road. The only way she managed to avoid passing out was the steady stream of profanities she muttered under her breath.