Patient Darkness: Brooding City Series Book 2 (24 page)

True.

This day was getting weirder and weirder. “Can you get anything more from Greg?”

The elevator started to rise, and it looked like Alex was recovering more with each floor. “His ears are working just fine, but whatever he’s hearing is muffled. His wrists are chafing, but so far any bruises are self-inflicted. My best guess is he’s being kept blindfolded in a small room.”

“Like a storage closet?”

“Most likely. It would make sense for the distorted noise and feeling of claustrophobia.”

Brennan raised an eyebrow, more impressed than skeptical. “You can read all of that from him?”

“All of that and more.”

The elevator doors pinged open, and their conversation ended as a well-lit hallway presented itself to them. It was a late Saturday afternoon, but the office still wasn’t entirely deserted. Brennan and Alex slowed their pace to appear casual as the telepath’s eyes grew vacant. He knew she was tapping into the senses of everyone on the floor, processing their own sights and sounds as quickly as she would her own.

“Down that hall,” Alex said, indicating it with a faint nod.

“Take the long way around and blend in,” Brennan ordered. “If he tries to run your way, you need to stop him.”

“What about your nephew?”

“If Kellogg took him, and they’re both on this floor, then it stands to reason that he will want to keep Greg close. When we find Kellogg, we’ll find my nephew.”

She regarded him blankly, her eyes still vacant, before she continued down the main hallway alone.

Brennan turned down the side corridor and kept from meeting anybody’s eyes for too long. Not that anybody was paying particular attention, but it never hurt to be careful. Kellogg seemed to have a supernatural sense of when he was being hunted. He slowly slid a hand under his jacket and his fingers wrapped lightly around the grip of his holstered gun.

There were a few curious gazes as Brennan passed, and he realized that an unfamiliar face among the small weekend workforce might be an instant red flag to them. He dropped the grip he had on his firearm and forced a smile that was meant to reassure them. They didn’t look convinced, but nobody rose to stop him.

Brennan felt a burst of psychic pressure, and he realized Alex was attempting to contact him. He considered dropping the mind-shield, but he stopped himself at the last second. An uneasy feeling spread through him, and even though he wasn’t sure why, he suddenly felt that letting the psychic into his mind was a bad move.

He continued his search, clearing several more offices before turning another corner. If the layout of the building was consistent, this was the hallway in which he hoped to trap Kellogg. The only other avenue of escape was past Alex, who currently sought vengeance for her mother’s death.

A quick glance around confirmed that nobody was watching, so Brennan drew his gun and kept it half-concealed in the sleeve of his jacket. The lights flickered overhead, and the hairs on his arms raised as electricity hummed through the air. A moment later, a loud cry of pain issued from down the hall.

“Alex!” Brennan yelled, breaking into a run. Startled employees began fleeing in the other direction, and he had to either dodge around them or shove them aside to make headway. “Alex, I’ll be right there!”

The lights dimmed heavily, and another wrenching scream filled the air.

In the corner office at the end of the hall, Brennan finally spotted Kellogg.

He looked disheveled and out of place, despite the business clothes he now wore. The fabric of the sleeves was stretched to its limits over his ridiculous arms. His hair was cropped short, nearly to the skin. A long, sparking cable was held in one hand, while the other gripped the ridge of a large rolling office chair. Brennan could only see the legs and feet of his hostage.

“Hold it right there,” Brennan ordered, his gun trained on Kellogg’s back.

Kellogg spun around to face Brennan as he entered the room, and his eyes danced with frenzied nervousness, at extreme odds with the man on the television last night. He positioned himself behind the chair, using its occupant as a shield.

“How did you find me?” Kellogg asked.

Brennan, though, was too distracted by the blindfolded figure seated in the chair. “Greg?”

His nephew whimpered in response. Another length of cloth wrapped over his mouth, effectively gagging him. Burn marks showed on the exposed skin beneath his torn shirt.

Kellogg drew a knife and pressed it against the soft flesh of Greg’s neck. “I don’t want to hurt him, Detective, but I will if you so much as take another step.”

“Drop the knife and step back from the boy.”

“No,” Kellogg said, shaking his head. “I have a message to deliver to the citizens of this city.”

“The murders? The bombing? Enough lives have been lost already,” Brennan said. “Message received.”

“You don’t understand, Detective. Then again, how could I expect you to? You’re just another drone in the system.”

“Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. You’ve taken innocent lives—”

“Innocent?” Kellogg asked, sounding incredulous. His face contorted in a grotesque mask. “I can’t stand the very sight of you…
things
. Corporate executives. The chief of police. The
mayor
. Do you know what all of these things have in common? They’re positions held by the rich and powerful. And how do you think they got those resources? By oppressing the masses with their abilities and corrupting the system that is meant to protect the innocent.”

“Is that why you were here today, Kellogg?” Brennan asked. “Were you stalking your seventh victim?”

Kellogg’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve only cleansed this city of five of the corrupted. But my mission is far from complete.”

“From where I’m standing, you have two options. Either surrender yourself to me peacefully and stand trial for your crimes, or I’ll shoot you where you stand.” The plastic grip of his gun groaned slightly as he tightened his hold on it.

“You won’t kill me,” Kellogg said confidently.

Stepping into the building, Brennan would have agreed. He had wanted to take Kellogg in alive, in spite of everything the ex-soldier had done. Now, with Greg’s life on the line, that resolve had all but disappeared.

“When I was overseas, the enemy combatants were obvious,” Kellogg continued. “They were all around me, and my purpose there was clear. But now that I’m home, and I see a new enemy,
still
all around me…I can’t live with that reality.”

“There are no enemies here, Kellogg, except the one holding the knife and the live electrical wire.” Brennan glanced at the open door to the closet in the corner. There were scuff marks on the floor between the closet and the chair where Greg was now seated. “If you come with me to the station, now, without any more deaths, you’ll have a chance to say your piece.”

Kellogg jerked his head from side to side. “No,” he said shakily, “that’s not true.” A bead of blood appeared on Greg’s neck, sliding down the length of the blade. He started to press in harder. “You’re trying to trick me, I can see what you are!”

“No, stop!” Brennan yelled. He turned his gun sideways and held up both hands. “Stop. I’m putting down the gun, okay? Watch, I’m putting it down.”

The knife didn’t move, but Kellogg watched warily as Brennan knelt and placed the gun on the ground. “Kick it back into the hallway, away from you,” Kellogg ordered.

Brennan slid it backward with his foot, his blood rising with each skittering sound of metal against hard tile.
Where the hell is Alex?
he wondered, taking a step into the room. He dropped his mental barrier and sent that thought out broadly. “I did as you asked, Kellogg,” Brennan said. “Do a courtesy for me and put the knife down.”

“I don’t think so. Do you know what the difference is between you and me, Detective? I am a man of action. I fight for what I believe in, and I know which side I’m on.”

“So what does that make me?”

“Last night, I would have said you were simply another pawn in their game. But you strike me as a reasonable man. You made the news this summer.” Kellogg smiled smugly. “No names were dropped, but I did a little digging and found out what you did. Tried to take patches off the street and pissed off a lot of powerful people in the process.”

“Petty drug lords don’t scare me,” Brennan said.

Kellogg frowned. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not talking about dealers and addicts here. It’s the bosses upstairs that you’ve upset, the ones who benefit most from having corruption spread through our streets. When the chief of police can stand in front of the press and say that Chamalla is the next big crisis, that benefits both him and the mayor.”

“I don’t understand. How does that—?”

“Maybe I overestimated you,” Kellogg said, his voice full of disappointment. “I thought
you
of all people could see past all the bullshit. The people in charge are fearmongers, and they thrive on leading the public from hysteria. Without chaos, how can they institute order? Without crime, how can they deliver punishment? This city is dying, and it’s those with power who stand at the helm.”

Something clicked in Brennan’s brain, a cog turning that was previously gummed up with ignorance. “When you say ‘power,’ you mean—”

“People like you, yes. The freaks, the conquerors. Humans two-point-oh.” Kellogg was breathing heavily now as emotion overcame him. “I’m the only one who can see the heart of the matter, the root of the problem, so it’s my responsibility to save humanity.”

“I’ve done nothing but help this city,” Brennan growled. “And if you can see us, then you are
one
of us. Your power is seeing others with power.”

Kellogg shook his head, and there was a subtle shift in the features of his face. There was something akin to acceptance, even though he was clearly living in denial. “I’m not like you,” he said proudly. “Your power corrupts, while mine has given me clarity. And purpose.”

“Then do it,” Brennan dared him. “Fulfill your purpose and kill me. I’m the one with power, not the boy. And look! I’m unarmed.” He took a step closer. “So go on, then. Do it!”

Kellogg snarled and pushed Greg out of the way, the rolling chair careening toward the far wall. He lunged at Brennan with the knife, and two things happened in that moment.

First, Brennan went deaf as a gunshot fired from almost directly behind his head.

Second, a red lotus blossomed on the shoulder of Kellogg’s dress shirt as a long sniper round cut through his body like air through a fan. Blood soaked the material as his snarl was replaced by a slack-jawed look of utter shock. As Kellogg fell to his knees and then the ground, Brennan noticed a sister wound on Kellogg’s other shoulder, this one with a smaller entry point and less immediate blood.

Brennan cupped both hands over his ears and swayed into the nearest wall, losing all sense of balance with his hearing. The ringing that exploded in his skull was deafening all on its own, and he looked up deliriously to find Agent Jun standing over him. The grim-faced agent stared at Brennan for a moment before moving in to slap handcuffs around Kellogg’s wrists. It seemed like a moot point to Brennan, but he wasn’t in any condition to object.

Actually,
Alex spoke in his head,
a moot point is a subject still open to debate.

Where the hell have you been?

Letting the cavalry know where to find you,
she replied, sounding testy.
You’re welcome, by the way.

Oh, I’m welcome? I needed you
here
, with me. I could have been killed!

And I would have fared any better, without a gun? Besides, you’re still alive.
She paused for a second.
Everyone is alive, it seems.

What?
Brennan stared blearily at Agent Jun and Kellogg while the ringing in his ears slowly faded away. Jun had secured his pistol, and he was reciting the Miranda rights while keeping one knee firmly pressed against one of Kellogg’s wounded shoulders. “He’s still alive?” Brennan asked.

“For now.” Jun looked up at him with a solemn expression. “I only shot him once.”

Wind whistled through the hole in the glass window pane.

Comprehension washed over Brennan. He made a mad dash to grab Greg and wheel him into the hallway, staggering away from the line of sight of whatever sniper was posted on the adjacent roof. Kellogg followed shortly after, pushed from behind by Jun.

When you say ‘the cavalry’…

Not the FBI,
Alex finished simply.
I sensed them closing in behind us, though, and had to make myself scarce.

Why? Are you a criminal?

There was an almost imperceptible pause that followed the question.

I was thinking of you, actually. How would you have explained my presence?

Somebody took a shot at Kellogg,
Brennan said, feeling like he was finally putting the pieces together.
If I had been just a foot closer, that round would have hit me, too.

Another pregnant pause.