Authors: Vicki Hinze
No one responded.
Not seeming at all slighted, he walked over and sat down at the foot of the table. “Let’s not waste time, since we have so little of it left.” He turned to look at the press. “As you may know, I am prepared to launch a Peacekeeper missile at midnight in retaliation for undue interference in my life by the federal government.
“A Peacekeeper is the most destructive missile in the U.S. arsenal. Its kill zone is extensive. Washington, D.C. will cease to exist. And, of course, everyone in it will also cease to exist. Several surrounding states will be heavily damaged, and more people will die.” Austin paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to settle in. “I am giving the United States one last chance to atone for its crimes against me. And I want the truth to be perfectly clear to everyone. I am not an evil man. I am a victim who has been manipulated by the government and this administration. The only way to stop them from committing more wrongs against more people is to force them to admit what they’ve done. That brings us to why you and Vice President Stone are here.”
He looked back at Sybil. “I believe you have a favor to ask of me.”
Still. No fidgeting. No unnecessary body language. Austin was sharp; he would pick up on it. And God help her if he once smelled her fear. He would own her, and he would know it.
It’s just a thorn, Sybil. That’s all. You can handle thorns.
Appreciate those, too.
Her confidence grew. Austin knew they had him, and he had reconciled himself to dying and taking them with him. “Yes, I do have a favor to ask,” she said. “I want you to give me the DNA identity to open the inner hub and the key needed to abort the missile launch.”
Totally unprepared for this, the media members let out a collective gasp.
That pleased her former husband immensely. “You have constantly interfered in my life and my business, Sybil.” He spared her a quizzing look. “Why should I grant you any favor?”
He couldn’t be serious. He was playing with her and, God, she resented it. “Because if you don’t, millions of people will die. Mothers, fathers, grandparents, and children. Regardless of what has or hasn’t been done to you, you have no right to murder innocent people and cripple the government of this country” She paused and considered strategy, then dropped it and spoke from her heart. “Austin, your war is with me. Your hatred is hatred for me. No one except me should bear responsibility”
He rubbed at his chin. “Are you saying you’re willing to accept full responsibility for everyone?”
She didn’t like this. Not at all. Her flesh crawled, and she had to physically restrain herself to keep from squirming. “If you will abort the launch, yes, I am.”
“Because you’re such a good person,” he said with a mocking lilt in his voice. “Such a patriot and a devoted leader.”
“Because it’s my job,” she said, her own voice deadpan flat. “I love this country, and that means loving the people in it. When I took the oath, I made them promises, Austin. I have to keep them. But my willingness doesn’t have anything to do with how much I love this country, or whether or not I’m a leader. It has to do with being a human being. One life for many. It’s not a hard choice.”
“I’m not going to kill you, Sybil.”
“Aren’t you?” She visually challenged him, wondering if she knew him better than he knew himself.
He shrugged. “Okay, I am. But only symbolically now. Later you can die with everyone else—unless you do exactly what I want you to do.”
Then she’d live with shame. How damned predictable he had become. “Look, will you just say what you have to say and get this over and done?”
“Ah, the clock is ticking. We mustn’t forget that.” He rocked back in his chair. “I’m certain you’ve contacted the board at Secure Environet and I’ve been replaced as its chair. Am I going to be forced to sell my stock?”
Caught between a rock and a hard place. Did she dare lie?
No. No, he expects that. He wants that. He knows the truth. This is one of his attempts to push your back against the wall. Lie, and you become exactly what the public believes about far too many in public service: a corrupt politician. You’ll be just another political thug.
“A forced sale has been ordered by the board due to your conduct.”
“Have you sold your stock?”
“No.”
“What happens to my money?”
“Your assets have already been frozen. When the sale is permitted by the court, the proceeds will be held in an escrow account until you’re tried and convicted. If a judge finds you guilty of treason, he’ll probably order your assets be delivered to the United States government as partial restitution to compensate the country for debts incurred by your acts of murder and treason.”
“Murder?” He grunted. “But I haven’t yet killed anyone.”
“Linda Dean and her two children would disagree. And I’m sure Captain Mendoza would, too.”
Anger that she knew about Mendoza seized Austin. His
hands fisted, he glared at her. “Do you want to stop this launch or not?”
Had she done the wrong thing by giving him the truth? His eyes had that feral glint. With Austin, that glint was far more dangerous than even intense anger. Sybil hadn’t seen it often, but when she had—oh, God—hell had come to call. “I do.”
“Fine.” He leaned forward, folded his hands atop the table. “Get on your knees and beg me, Sybil.”
The camera lights were bright. Sybil stood up, heard the media members’ surprised murmurs. She glimpsed Sam Sayelle out of the corner of her eye. His face looked as if it had been carved out of granite.
Commander Conlee let loose his outrage. “Now see here, Stone.”
She held up a hand to silence him. “It’s okay, Commander.”
“The hell it is, ma’am.”
She looked over at Conlee. His neck veins protruding, his face turning dark red, he shoved an unlit stubby cigar between his teeth and clamped down on it. Simply put, he was ready to kick ass. She had to calm him down. Digging deep, she summoned a semblance of a smile and deliberately softened her voice. “Commander, it’s only pride.”
Their gazes locked, and she saw the moment he recalled their earlier conversation.
He’s going to humiliate me.
“To save lives, I’ll gladly give him my pride.” She walked around the table toward Austin.
He scooted back his chair, distancing himself from the table. “Since you value your pride so little, forfeiting it is inadequate compensation. I want more.” He draped his chained wrists over a chair arm. “I want you to strip, Sybil.”
She stopped midstep. He couldn’t mean—oh, but he did. She could see it in his eyes.
“You hide the truth under your conservative suits, but I see you for what you are, and so will others.” He lifted lazy
lids and his hatred for her emanated from him. “Your choice. If you want what I have to give, then do it. If not, I’ll see you in hell.”
Sybil cursed him in her mind. Cursed everything about him. What kind of man forced a woman he knew felt uncomfortable and vulnerable at being barefoot in front of others to strip naked? “You son of a bitch. You’d never pull this stunt on a man.”
“There would be no need. A man wouldn’t hide behind his clothes as you do. What? Are you afraid to let the world see you as you really are? Are you terrified that John and Jane Q. Public will learn all your words about loyalty and caring and integrity—well, that they’re just words? It’s crunch time, Sybil. Do you really mean what you say and say what you mean? You love America, right? You want to save lives, right?”
Her convictions were on the line. But more so, lives were on the line.
One percent.
No matter how uncomfortable, how degrading, she had to take that one percent chance. It was all they had.
It’s just a thorn, Sybil. No more, or less. You can deal with thorns.
Jonathan’s voice, him reassuring her in her mind. Ironic, since he would be with her, if she hadn’t specifically asked him not to be in the room. Of course, even an army wouldn’t have kept him from killing Austin by now.
“Well?” Austin speared her with an open challenge.
Just a thorn.
“All right, Austin.” Sybil swallowed her pride and removed her clothes. Battered and bruised from head to foot, marred by whelps from bug bites, scratched and scraped raw from her collisions with the handcuffs, the catbrier and the rock and limb, nicked and cut—she was a mess, and that was fine. Honest. As imperfect outside as she was inside. She draped her clothes across the back of a chair.
“Your shoes, too, Sybil.” Evil gleamed in his eyes.
He knew. The pathetic bastard knew it was the shoes
that mattered most. Never in her life had she hated anyone more.
Thorns. Think thorns, Sybil. Think about the things Jonathan said about the kids needing you. Someone to look up to, to emulate. Think about them. Not Austin. Them.
“Of course.” She toed off her sneakers. The leather rubbed over a cut on her right foot, and it began to bleed. She stepped away from her shoes, held her head high, her back ramrod straight.
The whirring cameras stopped.
Commander Conlee turned and faced the wall.
The journalists and cameramen followed his lead, until all Sybil could see of any of them, including Sam Sayelle, was their backs. Gratitude swelled in her chest, and that too fed her confidence. Who would have expected it here? Of all places, here, and now?
A rose petal.
“No!” Austin shouted. “I want them to look at you. I want them to film this and release it all over the world. Everyone must see you for what you really are. The high and mighty Vice President Stone, the second most powerful person in the free world, on her knees to me. Begging
me
for
my
mercy.”
No one moved to face them.
“Damn it, turn around!” Exasperated, Austin sputtered. “I won’t tell her. So help me God, I won’t tell her!”
It’s only pride. It’s only pride. It’s only pride. Just a thorn. No more, or less. Just a thorn.
Sybil forced strength into her reed-thin voice. “Commander, Sam, all of you, please, just do what he says.”
One by one they turned to face her.
Austin wagged a finger at the cameraman standing beside Sam. “Get the cameras going.”
When Sybil heard the whir, she risked a glance at the media, certain her face was bloodred. But none of them was doing a microexam on her body. None of them looked away from her eyes.
Deeply moved by the show of respect, she blinked hard, and with renewed strength, she faced Austin. “All right. We’ve done everything you asked. You’ve taken my pride and you’re welcome to it. You’ve humiliated and degraded me, and that’s fine, too. I concede defeat to your superiority. You’ve won, Austin. You’re strongest and most powerful. Now give me what I need to stop the killing.
Please.”
He glared at her for a long moment. “No.”
She’d expected it, but hearing it…
Oh, God, please.
She couldn’t fail now. Not now. Not on this. “You gave your word, Austin. Do you want the world to see you this way? As a man with no honor?”
He smiled, obviously not giving a damn what anyone thought anymore. “I lied.”
“Austin, think about it, please. You can’t let all these people die. You’ve accomplished so many wonderful things, but if you do this, people will never remember them. This is all they’ll remember.” She paused to swallow hard, to mentally regroup. “This is your life-defining moment, Austin. It’s your chance to make right your wrongs. Don’t throw it away. Please, don’t throw it away and condemn people you don’t even know to death. Please.”
“Eloquent but useless, Sybil. I’ll never tell you. If you weren’t so damn stupid, you would have known it before you walked into the room.”
“I did know it,” she said softly. Genuine regret washed through her. “But I had to try—for all of the people you’re going to murder, and for you.”
“For me?” He guffawed. “That’s absurd.”
“I had to give you the opportunity to do the right thing, Austin. I’ve done that. You’re choosing not to take it, and that’s your decision to make. My conscience is clear. You
can
still clear yours. You
can
stop this and turn it all around. No one has to die tonight.”
“Everyone here has to die tonight. Otherwise I’ll spend the rest of my life in Leavenworth, and I will
not
do that. The
most I can do to redeem my jaded soul is to remind you, before you die, that some good will come out of this.”
She damn sure couldn’t see it.
He hardened his voice, slid her a cold smile. “Our financial ties will finally be severed.”
“Millions of people are going to die, and you’re talking about money?” Her temper threatened to explode. “Good God, Austin. Tell me it’s not true. Tell me you’re not the coldest, sickest bastard I’ve ever had the misfortune to know.”
“I love you, too, darling.” He gave her a cocky smile.
Love? Love? And smiling?
“How dare you?” The rage in her burst loose. She lunged at him, connecting with his jaw. Sharp pain shot up to her elbow.
Austin’s chair toppled over. He hit the floor with a dull thud. The cameramen and reporters scrambled out of the way.
The hallway door flew open. Jonathan rushed in, saw her standing nude and Austin sprawled on the floor. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“I’m fine, Agent Westford.” She was shaking like a leaf. “As we expected, he refused to disclose anything.” Her back rigid, she gathered her clothes and walked out of the conference room, then into the rest room across the hall.
No one in the room made a sound. The chains on Austin’s ankles twisted and he struggled to get upright, but no one moved to help him. Jonathan nodded his way. “What’s he doing on the floor?”
“She belted him with a decent right cross,” Conlee said. “He deserved worse.”
“Did he put a hand on her?”
Conlee chomped down on his stubby cigar. “Only his face against her knuckles.”
Sam walked over to Jonathan and cleared his throat. “We recorded this on a closed loop. Tell her we’re having a little bonfire outside. No one leaves here with a copy”
Something was different about Sayelle. Jonathan
wasn’t sure how to read him. “Why was the vice president in her birthday suit?”