by Dee Davis
“Think whatever you want. But I don’t believe a word of it.”
“And I don’t give a fuck what you believe,” he said, his brows drawn together in anger. “I have the upper hand here, Tyler. And you’d do well to remember that.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain,” she taunted. “Everyone we’ve unearthed who was involved with the Consortium has been eliminated. My father, Smitty, Marta Weller. They’re all dead. What’s to stop the Consortium from sending someone after you, now that you’ve been outed?”
“You’re overplaying your hand,” he said, waving the gun at her. “You’re the only one who knows. And I don’t anticipate your getting the chance to tell anyone anything.”
“I don’t have to tell them. Avery and Owen are talking to Lara right now. It’s only a matter of time before they figure it all out. And when they do, you’ll become a liability. Your life won’t be worth a damn.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m far too valuable for them to take me out. They need people like me, insiders willing to do their dirty work.”
“But once you’ve been exposed, you won’t be an insider anymore,” she goaded. “And believe me when I tell you that there are countless other toadies waiting in line to take your place. People who can be bought. People whose greed drives them to act stupidly.”
His eyes flashed with rage and he fired the gun. Tyler hit the floor, the bullet smashing into the wall next to the bookcase. Pushing off with her hands, she rolled forward, slamming into Emmett’s knees, his legs buckling as she jumped to her feet and ran for the door. But he grabbed her hair, throwing her onto the floor.
“Get the fuck up,” he said, the barrel of the gun pushed tight against her head. “I’d shoot you right now, but you might still prove useful. If you’re right, and Avery and company have figured it out, they’ll be coming after me. But as long as I have you, I’ll have the upper hand.” He twisted her arm behind her, lowering the gun so that it was pressed against her side. “One wrong move and I’ll splatter that beautiful body of yours all over the social sciences building. Am I making myself clear?” He yanked her arm, pain shooting down her side, and she nodded.
He pushed her in front of him, out the doorway and down the hall toward the back stairs. “Just keep your mouth shut and keep moving,” he said, shoving her arm into the small of her back as he pushed her forward. “This would have been a happy ending if only you’d wanted me instead of that damn Brit.”
As if on cue, said Brit, looking as if he wanted to spit nails, stepped into the hallway from the landing of the back stairs, his gun leveled at the two of them.
“Drop the gun,” Emmett said. “Or I’ll kill her.”
Owen’s gaze met hers, and she shook her head. But Owen dropped the gun anyway, his eyes moving back to Emmett. “Let her go.”
“Fat chance. She’s all mine now,” Emmett said, his tone back to smug.
Tyler struggled against him, but his hold was too strong, and she couldn’t get any leverage.
“Get on your knees, Owen,” Emmett called. “Hands behind your head.”
Owen’s expression turned thunderous, but he did as he was told. Tyler felt tears of rage breaking from the corners of her eyes. Then she saw Owen’s gaze shift to something behind her.
“This is for Jason.”
Emmett pivoted, but it was too late, the report of Lara’s gun exploding into the hallway. Tyler hit the floor as Emmett lifted his gun, and Lara fired again, the bullet slamming him back, a smear of blood staining the wall as he slid to the floor.
His gun fell from spasming fingers and Tyler knocked it away. Avery appeared from behind Lara and Tyler started to push to her feet, but Emmett’s fingers closed around her wrist. “Wait,” he whispered.
Owen raised his gun, but Tyler shook her head. “Tell me where the bomb is,” she said, staring down into his fading eyes. “Emmett, please tell me how to stop it.”
“It’s too late,” he said, his breath coming on a rasp. “The game is in motion. But you know me.” He tried to smile, but only one corner of his mouth moved. “I always have contingency plans. And since I’m dying, I’ll let you in on my secret.” His fingers tightened and he pulled her closer, his words so low they were almost inaudible.
“We’re all hollow men, Tyler. Shadows. Living in a world of gray. Thomas Stearns was right about that. But he was wrong about the world. It doesn’t end on a whimper. At least not tomorrow—tomorrow it ends with a bang.” He paused, struggling for breath. “Unless, of course, you can solve the riddle. Ask Eliot, he knows.”
He held her gaze for a second more, and then his fingers went slack, his body going limp, life passing away without even a whimper.
CHAPTER 26
Are you okay?” Owen asked, kneeling beside Tyler as she tried to work through what Emmett had told her. “Your face.” He reached out to caress her bruised cheek. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch,” she said, as Avery and Lara joined them.
“Is he dead?” Lara asked, her voice still filled with anger. “The bastard killed Jason.”
“I know.” Tyler nodded, reaching over to close Emmett’s eyes. “He confessed to everything. I still can’t believe it. I thought he was our friend.”
“I did, too,” Lara said, reaching down to touch Tyler’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
Tyler smiled up at her friend. “Thanks to you.”
“Look, I know how difficult this is for everyone,” Avery said, “but right now we need to get Emmett’s body out of here before any of the students figure out what’s going on. It’s going to be hard enough to explain Jason and Emmett’s deaths without coeds witnessing the violence firsthand.”
“I can call for help,” Lara said, pulling out her cell phone. “But I’ll need to go outside to get service. These old walls play hell with reception.”
“I’ll go with you,” Avery said. “You guys will be all right?”
“We’re fine,” Tyler said, lifting her hand to wave them on.
“All right,” he called, already moving down the hall after Lara. “I’ll be back for the body and then we’ll regroup in the war room.”
Owen reached down to help Tyler up, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe off some of the blood. “When I saw you with Emmett,” he said, his dark gaze holding hers, “I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”
“I know,” she nodded, reaching up to caress his face, “I had the same thought. But we’re here. And we’re together. But this isn’t over. Emmett was trying to tell me something when he died. Something about a riddle. I think in his own perverse way, he was trying to give me a shot at finding the bomb.”
“What exactly did he say?” Owen asked, a frown creasing his forehead.
“He said that we were too late. That the game was on.”
“That much we already knew.”
She nodded, holding up her hand. “There was more.” She closed her eyes, trying to pull up the words. “He said that there was a contingency plan. His. Anyway, we used to play this game where one of us would quote a bit of poetry, sometimes completely out of context, and the other one would have to identify it.”
“I thought he was an economist,” Owen said.
“He was. As well as an expert in game theory. But he loved poetry. He has a huge collection. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that he started rambling about hollow men and shadows and T. S. Eliot being right. I think he was talking about his life.”
“I don’t see how that’s supposed to help us.”
“It doesn’t directly, but then he said that he was wrong about the world. It doesn’t end on a whimper. At least not tomorrow—tomorrow it ends with a bang.”
“It’s a play on Eliot’s ‘Hollow Men,’ right?” Owen frowned, clearly trying to make sense of it.
“Right. And I think he was talking about the bomb. Tomorrow it ends with a bang.”
“But we still don’t kno
w where, or specifically when.” Frustration colored his voice.
“I’m sorry, I’m not telling this well, I’m still a little shaken and I’m not thinking clearly. But he made it clear that the outcome he was talking about—the bang—could potentially be stopped. If I could solve a riddle.”
“What riddle?”
“I don’t know. All he said was ask Eliot. And he can’t have meant it literally; Eliot died in 1965.”
“Maybe there’s something in the poem itself,” Owen suggested.
“Doesn’t seem likely.” She shook her head. “But I suppose it’s worth a try. I’ve got a copy in my office.”
“You said Emmett had a poetry collection. Would he have a copy?”
“I’m sure he must. Eliot is an essential.”
“It just seems like if there is anything to find, it’ll be in his copy.”
“That makes total sense. I should have thought of it myself.” They walked together down the hall toward Emmett’s office.
“You’ve been through a lot,” he said, his eyes worried. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here with you. I should have been.”
“We had no way to know that it was Emmett we should be hunting.” She shook her head, laying her hand on his arm as they came to a stop in the doorway. “And really it’s my fault he went ballistic. I got to the office before he did, and I was flipping through one of his books, and when I went to put it away, I found my mother’s scarf. It was stuffed behind the books on the top shelf. And before I had a chance to react, he walked in.”
“And saw you with the scarf.”
She nodded, as the memory replayed in her mind. “He hated us all so much, Owen. And I had no idea.”
“Clearly he wasn’t in his right mind. He can’t have been. Did he say why he betrayed A-Tac?”
“Yeah. For money. And power. Pretty damn basic when you get right down to it.”
“And predictable. Did he tell you anything more about the Consortium?”
“No. He kept it vague. He did confirm that Jason was on to them. Which means his information is probably right.” She squared her shoulders and, ignoring her churning stomach, walked back into the office, leaning down to pick up her mother’s scarf.
Owen moved past her, stopping in front of the back wall, lifting his hand to touch the shattered plasterboard where the bullet had slammed into the wall. “My God, Tyler, he could have killed you.”
“But he didn’t,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “I’m fine. And he can’t hurt us anymore.”
He pulled her into his arms, tipping her head up to kiss her, his lips cherishing hers—celebrating the fact that they were both alive. Then with a wry grin, he pushed away. “T. S. Eliot is waiting.”
She smiled back, her heart lighter, and after folding the scarf and putting it in her pocket, she started to search the bookshelf. There were probably a hundred titles, about half of them poetry. She followed the shelves from left to right, reading spines, looking for the right book. Finally, on the second-highest shelf, she found it.
“The Collected Works of T. S. Eliot,” she said, opening the book to scan the table of contents. “It’s here.” She flipped through the book to the proper page, the book falling open to reveal an envelope.
“Son of a bitch,” Owen whispered.
She held the envelope up to the light, and then sniffed the back, nothing seeming out of place. “In for the penny?” she asked, looking to Owen for his approval.
“Go for it.” He nodded
Carefully, she slit the top of the envelope and pulled out the single sheet inside. “It’s a poem, I think. Or a riddle.”
She held it out for him to read, her mind already spinning as she tried to find the logic in Emmett’s words.
The second act always follows the first,
The time and the setting the same.
Though the mighty have fallen, the Divine still stands
And the righteous shall take the blame.
* * *
“Oh, my God, Tyler, I just heard,” Madeline Reynard gasped, crossing the reception area of the underground A-Tac complex to give her a hug. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Tyler said with a smile, genuinely happy to see Drake’s fiancée. Although the two of them had gotten off on the wrong foot initially in Colombia, Madeline had more than proved her loyalty to Drake and to A-Tac, and Tyler was delighted for the two of them. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“I just flew in this morning,” she said, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. “I would have come earlier, but Tucker’s still dealing with the fallout from Ortiz’s betrayal, so I wanted to make sure he’d be okay on his own.” Tucker was Drake’s brother, and the years he’d spent in a Colombian prison had taken a toll. He’d been through a lot, and both Drake and Madeline had been in California helping him with his recovery. “Anyway, I’m here now. And I’m so sorry about Jason, and your father—all of it.”
“It’s a lot to deal with,” Tyler said. “But I’m not the only one affected. Emmett’s duplicity has an impact on all of us.”
Owen cleared his throat quietly and Madeline held out her hand. “Hi. We haven’t been introduced. I’m Madeline. And you must be Owen.”
“I’m sorry,” Tyler said, shaking her head. “I forgot you wouldn’t know each other. In some ways I feel like Owen has been here forever. I assume Drake’s filled you in?”
“Yes.” Madeline nodded, her gaze guarded. “Everything. But nevertheless, it seems that we’re all in your debt. From what Drake tells me you’ve been there for Tyler on more than one occasion. She means the world to all of us.”
“A sentiment I share,” Owen said, his fingers twining with Tyler’s. “Believe me.”
Madeline smiled at them both, her expression softening. “Sometimes it’s in moments of crisis that we see things the most clearly. That’s how I found Drake. But anyway, I know you need to get in there. Everyone’s waiting. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks,” Tyler said. “That means a lot. I’m glad you’re back. And congratulations on the engagement. Drake’s a lucky man.”
“Nah,” Madeline said with a wave of her hand. “I’m the lucky one. Now get to work.” She headed to the elevator, and Tyler walked through the sliding panel, Owen beside her.
“She’s nice,” Owen said, as they headed for the war room.
“Yeah, she is. And more important, she’s good for Drake. Helps balance him, if that makes any sense.”
“Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” Nash said as she and Owen walked into the war room. “Avery told us what happened.”
“To be honest, it’s getting to be old hat. I seem to run into someone who wants to kill me every other day.” She tried for a smile, but settled for a crooked grin. Her body was aching, and her mind was still reeling, but there was work to be done, so after a quick shower and a change of clothes she was ready.
And apparently so was the rest of the team. Hannah and Harrison were ensconced in front of their computers, their heads bent together as they studied something. Annie and Nash sat on the right side of the table with Drake on the other side, his chair, as usual, tipped back against the wall. Lara was present, too, sitting on the edge of the table, talking with Avery, her face pale, but her expression resolute. If Jason had been there—and Emmett—it would have seemed almost normal.
But they were both gone and nothing would ever be the same.
Except that there was a national threat, and A-Tac was charged with stopping it.
Tyler slid into the seat next to Drake, and Owen dropped into one next to her. Hannah hit a key to project an image of Emmett’s riddle up on the screen. Lara settled in a seat and Avery moved to the front of the room.
Behind them, the door to the war room opened and Logan Palmer walked in, his arrogant smirk reminding Tyler of Emmett.
“Sorry to burst into a closed meeting,” he said, sounding anything but apologetic
. “But I thought maybe it was time I took an active role in this investigation. Seems you’ve been having more than your fair share of trouble.”
“You’re welcome to have a seat,” Avery said, waving toward a chair in the back. “We’re always happy to welcome observers from our sister agencies.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call myself an observer,” Logan said, moving to sit at the front of the room next to Lara. “Think of me more as a watchful eye.”
Tyler turned to Owen, but he frowned and shook his head, clearly as surprised to see his boss as they were.
“All right, people,” Avery said, ignoring Logan. “You’ve all had a chance to be brought up to speed. And you’ve also had some time with Emmett’s parting riddle. What we need to do is decipher it and then hopefully intercept the suitcase nuke before it can be detonated.”
“What we need to do,” Logan interrupted, “is figure out who or what the Consortium is. Have you found anything new?”
“We’ve been a little busy trying to stop a killer,” Nash said, his eyes narrowed as he studied the older man. “We’re not that keen on losing one of our own.”
“Technically, you’ve lost two. Although one of them was admittedly a traitor.”
“And though there’s no question that it reflects on the unit, it has nothing to do with the integrity of the individuals still sitting here.” Avery’s expression was guarded, but Tyler could see the muscle ticking in his jaw.
“There’s nothing to find, anyway,” Hannah said. “Even with a name, there’s not anything out there. Some innuendo. And some veiled references. Harrison and I located everything that Jason did, but there just isn’t anything else. Whoever these people are, they’re experts at staying under the radar.”
“From what I can tell,” Harrison said, still typing something on his computer, “they work in tiers. The lowest group, like the mercenaries assigned to take out Tyler, her father, and the others doing most of the dirty work, with a secondary level—with players like Emmett, Smitty, and Marta—allowed limited access and assigned specific tasks. And it’s more than clear that these two tiers are completely expendable.”