Snake Skin (44 page)

"You'll take me to Ashley?" His eyes
narrowed, considering her offer.

"Yes." She risked standing, arms wide open
in surrender. "We need to go now, before the nurses come to check
on Megan. Let's go."

He cocked his head and made an old-woman
clucking noise with his tongue. "You're not telling me what to do,
are you?" He jerked hard on Megan's hair, eliciting a gasp from
her.

Think, Lucy, think
. She willed her
stunned brain to process his words. What did he really want, what
did Ashley represent to him?

She lowered her gaze so that her eyes didn't
meet his. Bowed her head slightly, allowed her shoulders to
slump.

"You know what's best." The words almost
caught in her throat, harder to utter than any perversion she'd
been forced to act out while undercover. "You're in charge here.
I'll do anything you want."

He loosened his grip on Megan and stared at
Lucy for a long moment. "Prove it."

"What do you want?" Make it all about him,
he's the center of the universe.

"Give this to her." He stretched out his
free hand. In his palm lay a syringe filled with a clear
substance.

Lucy didn't bother to mask the trembling in
her fingers as she took it. She uncapped the needle, assessing its
potential as a weapon. None. Not while he held Megan like that. She
bit her tongue, fighting the urge to ask him what was in it. Must
not question his authority.

She slid her fingers along the IV tubing,
tracing it down to the medication port she'd seen the nurses use.
Megan's breathing grew tight and raspy. Her hands were clenched in
white knuckled fists.

Lucy closed her eyes for a long moment.
Please God...

"Not in the IV," Fletcher commanded just as
she was about to risk Megan by launching herself across the bed at
him. Better that than an unknown poison that might kill Megan.
"It's ketamine. I calculated it for injection in a muscle—not sure
if it might be dangerous in the IV."

She risked looked up at him. His smile was
awful: wide and excited, his tongue flicking over his lips as he
watched her. "You would have done it, wouldn't you?"

No.
"Yes," she answered, not meeting
Megan's gaze. "I'll do anything you tell me to."

He nodded. "Yes, you will. As long as she's
alive and vulnerable." He jerked Megan's body like she was a rag
doll. "Go ahead, give it to her."

"Where?"

"In her arm." He twisted, holding Megan, his
gun still against her temple. Now Megan's arm was within easy
reach.

Lucy leaned over the bed, her daughter only
inches away. Could she tackle Megan, grab her, throw her down, out
of harm's way? Fletcher shook his head as if reading her thoughts,
tightening his grip on Megan. Lucy glanced down at the needle. It
wasn't very big. The worse damage it could inflict was to maybe
take out an eye.

Not before he killed Megan.

Lucy raised the sleeve of Megan's hospital
gown, exposing her flesh. She angled herself so that she blocked
Fletcher's view. Megan trembled. Lucy met her daughter's eyes as
she held her hand out of sight, beneath the gown. "Don't
worry."

Megan's lips were two thin white lines,
sweat beaded on her forehead. But she met Lucy's gaze, her eyes
full of trust. Lucy jabbed the needle in. Megan yelped in pain, new
tears blossoming on her face.

"Very good," Fletcher said, his voice
throaty as if he was aroused by the scene. Probably was, the
bastard.

Lucy flicked Megan's gown back into place
before Fletcher could see the fluid dripping harmlessly down
Megan's arm. Swiftly pivoting away from him to further distract
him, she dropped the syringe into the sharps box mounted on the
wall. She glanced over her shoulder at Megan, saw her slump, her
eyes fluttering.
Good girl.

"Perfect. She'll sleep for hours, not
remember a thing when she wakes." Fletcher laid Megan onto her
pillows and aimed the gun at Lucy. "Let's go."

"I never wanted to hurt anyone," he said as
they left Megan behind. "All I wanted was to save Ashley. Do you
have any idea how those people were treating her? What they did to
her?"

Nothing compared to what Lucy was going
to do to him.
"Those people are her parents."

"They were killing her. They didn't care
anything about her."

"And you do?" She steered him down the
hallway, away from Megan, away from Ashley, and towards the nurses'
station.

"Of course. Why do you think I went through
all this effort to rescue her? I love her."

He froze for a beat, emphasizing his words.
Just what Lucy had been waiting for. She spun, grabbing his weapon
hand and forcing it away from her as she slammed her palm up under
his chin. He fired, the sound shattering the silence like a
thunderclap from the heavens.

She swept his leg out from under him, still
trying to get control of the gun. He went down, the back of his
head bouncing from the floor, pulling her with him. The Glock went
off again. She felt a rush of hot air brush the side of her face,
heard the scream of a woman behind her.

Footsteps pounded close by as she grappled
with Fletcher. He grabbed her by the hair, slamming her head
against the floor, his knee on her chest, constricting her
lungs.

She gasped for air just as she heard
Burroughs shout, "Drop the gun, Fletcher. Drop it!"

Fletcher's face barely changed expression as
he glanced up and shot at Burroughs twice. Melissa Yeager appeared
in the edge of Lucy's vision, screaming. "You killed her! You
killed my baby!"

Then Fletcher shot her as well. He shifted
his weight to aim at a second woman, the reporter, Cindy Ames.

Lucy found her opening, freeing a hand to
chop at his voice box, snapping his head back as she flipped him
over. She wrenched his wrist as his weight pulled him in the
opposite direction.

He gasped, a harsh, raspy sound like her
father's cancer buddies had made with their artificial voice boxes.
Now on top of him, she twisted his wrist farther until his fingers
went limp and he dropped the Glock.

She scrambled to her feet, holding his own
weapon on him. Her ears buzzed with the reverberation of the shots
but as they cleared she heard people yelling and footsteps behind
her.

"It's all right, I'm a federal agent," she
called out, her gaze never leaving Fletcher. She couldn't spare a
glance to check on Burroughs or Melissa, hoped that some of the
running she heard was someone taking care of them. Fletcher's eyes
fluttered, then opened fully. "Someone call 911."

"I don't think you want to do that, Lucy,"
he said, his smile painted with blood from where he'd bit his
tongue. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Stay where you are," she ordered, her voice
low and deadly, her finger moving from the trigger guard to the
trigger. "Hands where I can see them!"

"You won't shoot me. Not unless you want to
kill all these children." He pulled his left hand out from his
side, holding a small remote control he'd plucked from his
waistband. "Know what this is?"

"What?"

"A dead man's switch. My thumb moves a
whisper and you, me, the entire floor and everyone on it goes up."
Now he was grinning at her. "All those children and their families
dead. All your fault. Only I can save them."

Chapter 39

Monday 2:02 am

She was floating. It was so quiet, so
peaceful that she wondered why she'd ever fought this. No worries,
no fear, no pain...

"Hey, wake up," a girl's voice broke through
her blissful solitude. Then something pinched her leg. Hard.

She blocked the pain, floating further away
so that the girl's voice was a dim dream, receding fast.

"Wake up, Ashley. Now. I need your
help."

It took a few seconds for the words to
penetrate. No one had ever needed her help before. Never.

Curiosity niggled at her, returning her back
to her body. Now she felt her ankle throbbing, the chill of
air-conditioned air stroking her naked arm, cold fluid flowing into
her vein. And once again, greedy fingers pinching her, this time
twisting her earlobe.

She pulled away, eyes still shut, raising
her hands to ward off the persistent intruder.

"He's going to kill her. You've got to help
me."

The sound of a gunshot shattered all
illusions.

She opened her eyes. The room was dark
except for a light from the bathroom and the red call button
alarm.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Her voice
was raspy as a rusty knife, scraping her throat. "Leave me
alone."

"My mom. She saved you. But he came and took
her. Please, you have to help." The girl's words were strung
together so close that she almost missed their meaning. The girl
grabbed her arm.

Another shot thundered through the room, it
sounded close. Then there were more, too many to count. Ashley
covered her ears, wishing for her warm oblivion.

The girl dropped her arm, ran to the door,
edged it open a crack.

"Mom got him, she got his gun." She started
to open the door but stopped and quickly shut it, leaning against
it, her eyes widening with fear. "She's bleeding and he says he has
a bomb. Says he'll kill us all."

Lucy kept her grip on Fletcher, one foot
planted on his wrist as she leaned over to open his jacket and
search for confirmation of his threat. He lay there, grinning,
mocking her with his nonchalance as his jacket fell open, revealing
a vest brimming with C-4 explosive.

"I think you might want to be a little nicer
to me, Lucy." He said. "Drop the gun."

Parents, children, and nurses milled around
in the periphery of Lucy's vision. She couldn't see Burroughs or
Melissa.

"Let me get these people out of here first,"
she stalled. She saw a woman at the nurses' station hang up the
phone, hopefully that meant the cavalry was on the way and the
hospital was being evacuated.

"Help me up and give me my gun back. I won't
interfere with the evacuation as long as you take me to see
Ashley." He narrowed his eyes, his gaze boring into hers.
"Now."

Lucy heard hushed voices behind her as the
nurses worked on getting people out of the line of fire. It wasn't
like she had any choice but to obey. Fletcher could have half a
dozen ways to detonate the C-4 and there was nowhere she could
contain him that wouldn't expose civilians to harm. "All
right."

She removed her weight from his hand and
watched him climb to his feet. He kept the deadman's switch
clenched between his left thumb and forefinger, shaking the blood
back into his other hand and grimacing. "My gun."

She handed it to him. He didn't seem to have
any problem handling it. Should've broken his wrist when she had
the chance.

"Very good, Lucy. Now. Take me to
Ashley."

"I will, but you're not going to like
it."

"Why not?" He squinted at her, ignoring the
crying children and sobbing parents who were scuttling away from
them, trying to make their escape.

A few fathers made eye contact with Lucy,
looked like they planned to play heroes, but she shook her head at
them and a nurse hustled them away. She saw blood on the floor as
she stepped back, wondered for a moment if it belonged to Burroughs
or Melissa before she clamped down on those distracting thoughts.
Megan was safe—or would be as soon as she got Fletcher out of
here.

"Where's Ashley?"

Lucy blew her breath out, her chest and
shoulders collapsing with the weight of the day. "You heard her
mother. Ashley's dead."

Other than the occasional nick while shaving
her legs, Cindy had never seen blood before. One of the curses of
being perpetually healthy and usually assigned to fluff pieces.

Now, suddenly, she was drowning in it.

Burroughs had gone all Lethal Weapon on her
when he heard what sounded like a gunshot, drawing his gun and
telling her and Melissa to remain in the family room. Yeah, like
they were going to stay like sitting ducks waiting for the
slaughter. Not to mention the fact that odds were it was Fletcher
doing the shooting.

Still, Cindy hadn't followed him outside.
She waited, listening, when a second shot sounded. That noise had
catapulted Melissa into action.

"He's here. He's killed Ashley," she began
crying, pushing Cindy aside and running out into the hallway.

Cindy heard Melissa shouting, Burroughs
yelling, the sound of more gunfire, then silence for a long moment.
She poked her head out the door, saw no signs of a threat, and
stepped outside.

That's when the screaming started. A nurse
was on her knees beside Melissa, trying to stop the blood gushing
from Melissa's neck. She yanked Cindy down, pressed Cindy's hands
over the massive wound. "Hold pressure."

The nurse scuttled around the corner where
Burroughs' legs jutted out, toes down. Not a good sign, a tinny
voice echoed through Cindy's mind even as her hands squished blood,
trying to force it back into Melissa.

Children were crying, wailing, parents
shouting and screaming, people running, slamming doors, but Cindy's
entire world was one woman and a whole lot of blood. Surely too
much blood?

Melissa's mouth open and closed. Bubbles
appeared, gurgling through the blood. Her eyes drifted halfway
shut, looked glazed, vacant.

Still Cindy pressed, her entire weight
leaning on Melissa's neck. Then she noticed that the blood wasn't
gushing any more. Instead it was seeping, pushed out of Melissa's
body by the pressure Cindy was so diligently applying. Gingerly,
she slid her fingers to where she thought the pulse should be.
Nothing.

Burroughs still wasn't moving and the nurse
hadn't re-appeared. But she heard everything, heard Fletcher tell
Guardino about a bomb. A bomb? She rocked back on her heels, her
hands raising from Melissa's skin leaving bloody palm prints
behind. Blood splattered the floor, her slacks, trailed down her
arms.