by TL Schaefer
Wes looked different than he had as a child, or even in his FBI photo. He looked very much like Brian, in fact—a big, easygoing man dressed in casual clothes, much like a parent on chaperone duty. His attention focused on Cullen and Gabby, but I could tell he was also watching the watchers...all four of them. There was no sign of Pardo. Maybe we’d lucked out, but I wasn’t betting the farm on it. I could guarantee Brian wasn’t either.
I couldn’t see how he was going to get to the children unless at least one of the bodyguards did something stupid. And then, of course, like Wes knew they would, they did. One of them shifted his attention to a child who was in the midst of an awe-inspiring tantrum, and Wes began to make his move.
I couldn’t let him do it. I pushed Brian away... Wes couldn’t see me with him, and thank God, Brian understood and drifted away from me, his hands in his pockets. I could imagine his finger already on the trigger.
“Wes!” I shouted it loud enough for him to hear, but not Farrell’s people. While I was sure they were professionals, the last thing I wanted was incidental casualties. Brian and I could handle ourselves, but there was no way in hell these kids were going to be injured.
His head came up and his gaze lasered onto me with the accuracy of a rocket. Confusion, then surprise and pleasure registered on his features as he looked past the superficial changes and figured out who I was. He cast a quick look back at Cullen and Gabby, but the guard’s moment of distraction was over, and all were once again focused on their charges. Exactly as I had intended.
I reseated the pepper spray beneath my watchband, against the tender skin of my wrist. Because I had loved Wes once, I would try to subdue him. If I failed, Brian would do what he had to. I didn’t envy him in that because I would never be able to pull the trigger on anyone.
I blew out a breath and eased away from the crowd. Wes watched me, his expression intent, a half-smile crooking his lips, and I knew he was trying to read me, trying to figure out what I was going to do.
I jerked my head, indicating we should both step away.
We approached each other, keeping at least seven feet between us. Wes placed himself against the small storage building we’d converged on so there was no direct line of fire from anywhere. He needn’t have worried. We’d ditched the idea of using a sniper this morning. Too much chance for “collateral damage”, as Trang put it.
The chasm yawned wide behind us, a few scant yards away.
“Wes,” I kept my voice low, careful. Seeing him again, this close, this vital, was like a punch to the gut. Even though he was a bad, evil man now, my heart clenched because I could remember the boy he had been all too well.
“Sara. It’s good to see you.” As he said it, his colors pulsed from the gut-churning purple I associated with his killer side and settled to the tranquil blue I’d known him as, then swung back to murderous.
“Really? If Pardo had been as good as you thought, it would have been sooner.” Here I was again, poking the bad guy with a stick.
“So, Farrell already got to you, did he? Don’t believe his lies, Sara.”
“Don’t blow sunshine up my ass, Wes. I know what you’ve done. The innocents you’ve killed in a bid for power. Fucking power.” I shook my head sorrowfully, as we’d rehearsed.
“Innocents? They’re starting CASI back up, Sara. Do you realize what that means? More kids like us, tortured, being trained to use their talent as a weapon. Stopping Farrell is the only way to make sure it doesn’t happen again. CASI can’t be allowed to be reborn.”
“Good try. You sent Pardo after me. Toyed with me when all you needed to do was pick up the phone and tell me what was happening. I know why you didn’t. You have a taste for it now. You like killing people. Especially people you aren’t supposed to be able to get to. And you liked messing with me, knowing it would tear me up inside.”
His brow quirked. “Who’s the profiler here?”
“Maybe both of us are.”
He shifted tracks. “So where are they? I can’t feel them around.”
“Back in Canon City. They realized you’d know they were here. Besides the guards on Cullen and Gabby, it’s just you and me.”
“To what purpose?
“To stop you, either by bringing you in or taking you out of the equation.”
Wes laughed, but his eyes never left mine. “You can’t stop me, Sara, unless you kill me, and I can’t see you doing that. Join me instead. We can stop Meece and CASI and go underground. I’ve got more than enough money for the both of us.”
“But I can stop you.”
He looked hard at me. “You really believe it. I have to wonder why. You can’t take me one-on-one. I’ll beat you hands-down. You’re obviously not armed, so what’s the ace up your sleeve?”
He was ruminating, not asking me directly.
“You can’t read me, can you?” I was curious to see if I’d been right, not simply stalling for time as Brian moved into position.
The train had arrived behind us, and the platform quickly emptied as the children and adult tourists boarded. The train pulled away, leaving a vacuum of silence in its wake.
“Not like I could before,” Wes admitted, and as he spoke I saw the sleeve of Brian’s T-shirt around the corner of the building. We were ready.
I took a deep breath and inched the pepper spray into my hand. It was now or never.
As if through a slow-motion lens, Brian was shoved into the open, Pardo behind him, pressing a monstrous handgun into his back. Brian’s eyes found mine, and I could see that he was afraid, but not for himself. He was scared for me. I shook my head minutely at him and read Wes.
I’d refrained from doing it before because the variables were too wild. But now, with the deadly bore of the gun pointed at Brian’s back and the children gone, I needed to know what was spinning through Wes’s and Pardo’s heads.
Pardo was still a black pit, but now that I knew he was in collusion with Wes, I could see an almost dogged servitude I’d missed before. He’d do whatever Wes commanded, but had probably used up every bit of self-directed choice in disabling Brian.
In Wes I could see the wheels spinning, his plotting as he figured a way to work this to his advantage. But there was nothing concrete, just a myriad of emotion and cunning. As much as I despised guns, I wished I’d held onto the Glock.
Wes took one look at my lover and smiled, every bit of malice he’d been suppressing unleashed. “Your friend is a Null, Sara. Very nice touch. But it won’t make a difference. Now, what to do with you?”
“You’ll never get to Farrell. He’s protected himself too well. And that is your ultimate goal, right?”
“Maybe I don’t need to. Maybe you’re the key in taking him down.” Wes stroked his chin.
“Me? I don’t think so. He offered up his own kids as bait. I’m nothing to him but another lure.” It wasn’t hard to make my voice convincing because everything I said was the truth. Sort of. Yet somewhere in the back of my head, warning bells were going off. Brian and I had nixed the idea of a sharpshooter, and Farrell and Trang had played along...too easily. Because I didn’t know them well, and Farrell was an expert at controlling his aura, I hadn’t even tried to anticipate what they’d do as soon as Brian and I pulled away in the Suburban. I knew, intuitively, that I was right. All I had to do was keep Wes talking and maybe salvation would be at hand. After all, we were wired. They could hear everything we were saying.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Sara. You’re more than a simple lure. I know you helped to lead Farrell here. That’s why I tried to have Pardo bring you to me. I was hoping to get to you before he did, but obviously we failed. With me doing my own thing, you’re vital to bringing CASI back on board, and he’ll sacrifice almost anything to make that happen, even his children.”
“Bullshit,” I challenged, even though I was shaking like a leaf inside. “If that was the case, he’d be here, and we both know he’s not. Face it, Wes. You’re going down, either willingly or at the
wrong end of a bullet. Maybe not here, but soon. You killed too many people for it to end any other way. What I can’t figure out is why you even went after them. Why you showed your hand by turning up on their doorstep.”
Wes laughed, and it wasn’t kind. “Payback is a bitch. You know that as well as I do, Sara. Who looks a gift horse in the mouth? The Trojans didn’t, and neither did Meece. They were so excited about having me back in the fold and starting up CASI again, that no one questioned my motives. They’re so malleable it was almost fun. And now I can say the same for you. Don’t you think I anticipated this? That we’d come together again?”
I cocked my head and tried to look collected even as my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. “No, I don’t think you did. I think you saw me back in the squad room in Dallas, recognized me and figured you’d mess with me because you were still pissed as hell that I bailed on you. Left you in Green’s hands. Just like your family.”
Wes’s eyes went hard. “You’re right about that. You abandoned me.”
“I thought you were dead,” I protested, still stalling for time, but telling the truth as well. If nothing else I needed him to know this. “I saw a body and was told it was yours. That’s why I ran. I would have never left you.”
“Doesn’t matter much now, does it?” he shrugged, and in that casual motion I knew that if Farrell didn’t get here in the next few seconds, it was going to go down, for better or worse.
I took a deep breath and met Brian’s eyes. Awareness ratcheted up a notch, almost as if he could read me.
He nodded, an infinitesimal dip of his head, then arched, ignoring the cold bore of steel at his back, and grappled with Pardo. Brian grunted in pain, then went down hard, Pardo’s gun flying out of his hand to rest at my feet.
I grabbed the gun without thinking and Wes stepped back, out of range of the pepper spray, but not the deadly impact of a bullet. Brian and Pardo were wrestling on the ground, leaving Wes and me facing each other. In my heart of hearts, I knew this was the way it was meant to play out.
“Can you do it, Christie?” His voice was mocking, designed to cut through my confidence. On any other day, as I faced the man who had once been my best friend, I would have wavered.
I held the gun in steady hands, although my heart was beating at a million miles a minute. “My name’s not Christie anymore. Quit fucking with me.”
He nodded, although his eyes never left mine, and I knew he was trying to read me again. Just as he had a minute ago. I almost hoped he could because I wanted him to be absolutely, positively sure that I would pull the trigger if need be.
The chasm of Royal Gorge spread beautiful and deadly behind us, anchored on each side by the ridiculously spindly looking bridge.
“Don’t think about jumping,” I warned, as he began to edge backward.
“You’ve gotten better,” he said, moving back in increments. “Do you really think you’re going to take me alive?” He cast a disdaining glance at me. “You should know me better than that. You’ll have to shoot me. And Pardo too.”
Brian surged from almost beneath our feet and tackled Wes from the side, forcing them to a writhing heap mere feet from the edge. Shocking crimson soaked the front of his T-shirt, and a shard of deeper terror tore through me. Had Pardo stabbed him?
I couldn’t shoot, though everything inside screamed at me to do just that. Wes needed to pay for his crimes against the innocent; even I knew that. I didn’t bother checking on Pardo. If Brian was confident enough to go after Wes, the man was truly down, Brian’s injury notwithstanding.
My head was itching, and I nosed the gun down and grabbed a handful of hair. Wes’s intent slammed into me. Oh Jesus. He would do the one thing guaranteed to destroy me, out of revenge.
“Brian,” I screamed, “back off. He’s going to pull you over!”
Then they were both sliding, Brian’s hands grappling for purchase, and in his eyes I could see his fear of heights, of dying while falling. In that split second he exuded the first aura I’d seen in him, the screaming scarlet of an alpha male’s sheer terror.
I switched the gun to my left hand and lunged forward, my heart in my throat, and grasped his hand, pulling for all I was worth. But my body mass was nothing on two grown men, and in seconds I was sliding right along with them.
In the precious seconds we had left, I had to choose. Between the man I’d loved as a child and the man I loved as a woman. There really was no choice.
I looked into Brian’s eyes. “Trust me,” I said, and he nodded jerkily, his eyes wild.
I let go of him, and raised the gun with hands that were now shaking, and centered the sight on Wes’s forehead.
“God help me, Wes, I’ll do it.”
He smiled, and it was the saddest, most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “I know you will, Sara.” The gun bucked in my hand, the roar deafening in my ears as Wes let go of Brian’s legs and catapulted himself over the edge, completely silent as he plummeted to his death three thousand feet below.
I dropped the gun as if burned and lunged forward, grabbing Brian’s arms. Together, we worked him back from the precipice, grunting and swearing with each precious inch. When we were finally clear, I fell into his arms, sobbing tears of relief...and regret.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Before
I sat in the darkness of my loft, celebrating my twenty-fourth birthday alone, as always. Almost ten years had passed since my life had changed. Since the day I’d arrived on CASI’s doorstep. And eight years to the day from my flight into the blizzard of the century. Away from CASI. Away from the heartbreak of Wes’s death.
I looked down at the two shot glasses gracing the coffee table I’d purchased last week, the final piece of furniture to complete my own personal haven. One shot for me, one for Wes. It was the way I celebrated my birthday every year, the way I commemorated my friend. Probably the only true friend I’d ever had.
I poured a generous slug of tequila in each, tossed one back, then held the other up to the dim light coming through the window.
“This one’s for you, Wes. May you rest in peace.” I slammed that one back as well.
Now—Monday, noon
The thump of helicopter rotors washed over us as we lay there, gasping for breath. A sleek black chopper settled on the ground next to the station and Farrell scrambled out, then ran toward us.
“You saw?” I rasped.
“We saw. We were just out of hearing range, watching. You did what you had to, Sara,” Farrell’s voice was compassionate, warmer than I’d ever heard it. “Now let’s get you two back to Canon City and get Roney here looked at.”
We were bundled into the chopper. One of Farrell’s men in black had already restrained Pardo and shoved him into the rear of the aircraft. Trang gave us a nod before easing the aircraft skyward. My stomach lurched briefly, then I turned to Brian. I lifted my fingers to the goose-egg sized lump beginning to form on his temple, then ran them down his face to the crooked set of his nose. Blood was smeared across his upper lip.
Farrell offered his handkerchief and I used it to staunch the blood that was even now slowing.
“He broke it, didn’t he?” I shouted over the noise of the rotors.
Brian nodded, wincing as he did. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he hollered back. “Remember, football, pararescue?”
I threaded the fingers of my free hand through his, holding on with all my strength. It was over. We’d done it. I’d done it. I would find out later if my shot had killed Wes, when they recovered his body.
The shakes started, rolling through me like a temblor. Brian looped an arm around me and pulled me close. We sat that way until the chopper landed a few short moments later.
Brian was fine. The doc said he didn’t have a concussion, but Pardo had broken his nose good and truly.
Farrell and Trang insisted on a blow-by-blow recounting with everyone present.
Trang was as frighteningly competent at concisel
y recording the events as he was at everything else, and once again, I was glad he was on our side. Cullen and Gabby Farrell had been retrieved by a pair of Farrell’s men in black and were now safely ensconced in an adjoining room. Farrell and I would need to hash out my future with CASI, but that could come further down the road. Right now I wanted to get through this, get a good night’s sleep and head back to Dallas, back to my life. My loft, my dog. Hell, even the degree that had been so important a few short weeks ago. And maybe, just maybe, to a real relationship with Brian.
As I repeated everything that had happened, with Brian interjecting as necessary, pain wrenched through me. My reaction in the chopper had been straight-up shock, but now I’d had time to think about everything that occurred, about each millisecond in time. Wes was gone, undoubtedly dead, and I’d been the one to send him to hell. Me, the person who’d always had an aversion to guns, who’d never thought I could pull the trigger. Me, the girl who’d loved him more than a little in those dark years.
I was sure I’d have to deal with the ramifications of my actions later, not in a legal sense, no, but in the weight it would have on my conscience. Now, though, I was simply glad the rest of us were in one piece and the threat was over. It was a guilty pleasure, but one I’d take happily.
Monica brooded in the corner of the room. She’d expressed real joy after seeing Brian and I were mostly unharmed, but yet another phone call had sent her into a tailspin. I didn’t need my talent to know it’d been her husband again, and that whatever he’d said had been devastating. If she’d given any indication, in either her manner or her aura, that she needed to talk, I would’ve made an effort, but instead, she’d shut down, throwing up a shield even I couldn’t penetrate. It was a new, and somewhat disturbing event, but to be honest, I didn’t have the energy to deal with it now.
And Davis, well, he was in his element, huddled with Farrell and Trang as if they were old friends. CASI was the main thrust of their conversation, and I’m sure my name came up more than once, but I figured Davis valued me, both as an employee and a protégé, to concede much.