Gregg Hurwitz: The Tower

"Not a movement, not a word," Allander hissed in his ear. "At last, Marlow, we're together. I know you've waited desperately for me to come out of hiding. Or should I say, out of repression."

Jade saw the dried blood covering one of Allander's knuckles where his shot had grazed him in the restaurant. There was another smudge of blood on Allander's cuff, but it was lighter, a cherry red. It looked like paint.

Jade struggled again to speak, twisting his neck until he could force out a few words. "Kill me if you're going to. Just don't waste my fucking time."

Allander eased the pressure from the screwdriver just enough for Jade to continue.

"You're done, Atlasia. We got cars, agents, 'copters. And you've got a fuckin' screwdriver."

"And your gun, Marlow. And your gun." Allander reached for the Glock tucked in his jeans.

The moment he moved, Jade seized the hand gripping the screwdriver and dropped all his weight off his feet. As he collapsed to the floor, he twisted Allander's hand across itself until he felt the elbow lock. Allander screamed in pain and swung the butt of his pistol to the back of Jade's head, dropping him to the floor.

The death grip on his hand eased and Allander pulled it to freedom, sending the screwdriver skidding across the floorboards. In seconds, he was through the door and down the stairs.

Jade pushed himself up on all fours. The bump on his head was painful, but the skin wasn't split. He grabbed the pistol he had thrown through the shattered mirror and stumbled after Allander, gripping his head and banging forcefully into the door frame with his shoulder. The stairs and the floor below were quiet.

Walking unsteadily from room to room, Jade planted his hand on countertops and walls to support himself. He was familiar with this drill, the disappearance. He knew Allander had to be in the house somewhere, especially with the FBI barricade outside. He tried to focus, but saw only blurry images.

He had a haunting feeling that Allander had spared his life. It was the worst thing he could imagine-charity from a murderer. If Allander had wanted to kill him, he would probably have done it right away, sending the screwdriver through his neck to the handle and watching his blood spray the floor.

Jade's vision was getting worse. He knew he had to get some fresh air or he would pass out. He staggered over the flattened front door, blinded by the searchlights that covered the front yard. Most of them, at this moment, were angled directly into his eyes.

The clicking of gun hammers greeted Jade as he stumbled off the porch. Still gripping the back of his head, he shouted, "Relax! It's me, Marlow. He's pinned down on the property, so hold your positions." He walked behind the phalanx of cars. "I need to sit down a minute and then I'm going back in."

A tall agent stormed over and bent down like an umpire, hands on his knees. Jade recognized him as Fredericks; he'd last seen him at the meeting in the federal building. Evidently, he had replaced McGuire. "Until you bring me up to speed," Fredericks yelled, "you're not going anywhere, Marlow."

Jade reached over and grabbed Fredericks's tie, yanking his head forward. He tried to make his eyes focus as he spoke. His voice was low, calm, and surprisingly tired. "I don't think you should push me right now."

Fredericks stumbled back when Jade released his tie. "We will discuss this later, Marlow. I don't have the luxury right now." He backed off and pretended to busy himself by repositioning a few of the snipers.

A row of FBI agents dressed in black swept past Jade as they rolled into position. Same game as at the apartment. Agents around the house, on the roof ready to rappel. Snipers in the trees. There was no way out for him. Not this time.

Jade pulled himself to his feet. He checked his pistol, clicking the chamber and glancing down the hard shaft as he pointed it at the ground.

"Put on your condoms, gentlemen," he said. "We're going in."

As he turned to move, a shoulder blocked his path, striking him in the ribs. His eyes still on the ground, Jade noticed an ankle loosely wrapped in a bandage.

Jesus Christ, he thought. She must've tried to run with her ankles cuffed together.

He raised his eyes to Travers's. "If you don't get that thing looked at there'll be no more ballet lessons for you."

She snapped his head all the way to the side with a right to the cheek. The pain compounded that of the earlier blow to his head, tearing through his temples and forehead. He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes to avoid showing how much it hurt. He made sure he loosened his features before he swung his head back to face her.

"It's too bad you don't-"

An explosion lit the house, sending glass and debris flying through the air. The agents flung themselves to the ground and ducked behind cars. Flames roared inside the first floor, quickly consuming the interior.

Jade fell to the ground near Travers. She covered her face and he rolled beside her, unwinding the bandage from around her ankle. As he ran for the front door, he yelled over his shoulder, "Ambulances, fire engines, backup for roadblocks. Get 'em here now."

Several agents had caught up with him by the time he'd reached the front doorway. He peered around the corner, backing quickly out of the way. Pressing Travers's bandage over his nose and mouth, he headed in.

When he entered the foyer, he realized that the blast hadn't reached far beyond the kitchen. He led the agents into the kitchen, shielding his face from the flames rising from the floor and table. A charred body sat at the table, completely engulfed in flames. The flesh was burning off the body, leaving only a darkened husk. The corpse was about Allander's size and build.

"Holy shit," one of the agents yelled. He pointed to the pantry, where the door had been blown clear off the hinges. Three large metal drums sat dangerously near the flaming wall. GASOLINE was stenciled across them in red letters.

"Move 'em out," Jade yelled. "If they blow, they'll compromise the crime scene. Move 'em. Now!"

The agents ran forward and grabbed the barrels. They gasped for breath as they rolled them quickly out through the flaming kitchen.

"And tell the fire department it's a Class B," Jade shouted after them.

He stepped forward and stared at the body, the flames singeing the collar of his shirt and curling the ends of the bandage he held across his face. The body seemed grotesquely casual, as if it had just finished eating breakfast. The flesh crackled beneath the flames.

Jade crouched and picked up a twisted piece of metal as Travers stumbled in.

She buried her face in her sleeve. "Jade, let's go. Get out of here."

Behind her, several firemen sprinted in with extinguishers. Clouds of smoke and Halon filled the air. One of the men doused the burning body with foam. There was no need for hoses.

Jade raised the piece of metal, looking at the flap of duct tape dangling from it. "Basic microwave bomb. Open jug of gas, roll of aluminum foil, tape the door shut. Douse the kitchen and body, set the timer, and boom."

"Looks like our boy went out with a bang," Travers said.

Jade followed Travers outside, his eyes troubled. The front yard was clogged with agents, cops, and firemen. People sprinted back and forth, screaming into radios. The first few media vans had pulled up, and the reporters were putting the finishing touches on their makeup while their crews readied the cameras. Three ambulances pulled into the driveway, sirens screaming.

Jade approached Fredericks, seizing him by the shoulders. "Get men throughout the house immediately to see what they can turn up. And I want the corpse to the lab to check dentals immediately."

Fredericks pushed Jade's hands roughly aside. "Relax, Marlow. We have the body."