Allison Brennan - Sudden Death

Rentz ran. Of course he did, he was more than fifty feet from them. Easy to get away. He dodged traffic and ran through the grounds of D.C. General Hospital.

Karin went after him. Megan followed. Karin motioned for her to circle around. Megan saw the plan and agreed-if she could get to Rentz before Karin, she could talk him into surrendering. She was good at it, had gone through extensive training in hostage negotiations, which helped with talking to fugitives as well.

But the alleyway was dark, and although initially it had been a good idea, Megan realized that they were in a vulnerable situation. On this side of the hospital, lighting was poor, there were no public entrances, and Megan couldn’t see or hear Karin or Rentz. Worse, Marty and Ted had no idea where to meet up with them. Megan radioed her location over the open channel, but all she got was static. What was wrong with her earpiece?

The pop of a gun was far closer than Megan thought. Cautiously, gun drawn, she rounded the corner and nearly tripped over a body.

Karin?

She bent down, and realized immediately it wasn’t Karin but Rentz. He’d been shot in the stomach, blood poured from his mouth. “I–I-I didn’t see. She-she shot me.” He was shaking and Megan knew he was dying.

“Call an ambulance!” Megan screamed. She searched for a weapon and found none.

“Watch out!”

It was Karin’s voice behind her. She started to turn, then heard the loud pop of a gun followed immediately by an intense pain in her lower back and the smell of gunpowder. She fell to her knees.

Karin stood over her. There were shouts and voices Megan didn’t recognize. She vaguely remembered as she lost consciousness that she was in the loading dock for a hospital.

She thought she heard someone say, “Traitor.” But maybe it had only been in her mind.

When Karin Standler had met Ethan two years ago, he was barely surviving-a government-sanctioned drug addict. His shrinks had him on so many meds it was a wonder he could communicate.

Karin had been working at a gym that had special services and equipment for the disabled. She hated her job, but there were perks. She could work out whenever she wanted for free. So she maintained her body to perfection, stronger than she’d ever been in the FBI. The pay was decent, and she took private jobs when she could.

But she missed the badge, the power, the authority that went with being a cop. All because of Megan Elliott.

Twice after Megan’s shooting incident, Karin had prepared to finish the job and kill her traitorous partner. The first time had been a week after the Office of Professional Responsibility forced her to resign. Karin had sat outside Megan’s D.C. apartment, gun in hand, waiting.

Reason prevailed. If Karin shot the bitch in the back of the head, they’d look to her. Prison was not an option-Karin would rather be dead.

So she took a page from her mother’s handbook.

“Be patient and plan ahead,” Crystal Standler had sagely advised. “The cliche ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold’ means if you wait long enough, you can kill your enemies and no one will look at you.”

Crystal Standler had known exactly what she was doing. She’d killed four men that Karin knew about, including two husbands, and no one had ever suspected the dainty Southern lady of anything illegal.

So Karin kept tabs on Megan. Nothing overt. After her termination, she still had friends in the Bureau, guys she could have drinks and sex with and they’d talk about the job. She tried to pick men who were disgruntled because they were most likely not friendly with Megan, the FBI’s very own Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.

Five years ago, Karin learned from her on-again, off-again boyfriend that Megan was being promoted to supervisory special agent and relocating to Sacramento. It was the sign she’d been waiting for. Time to act. Megan would be three thousand miles away, and Karin could kill her while plausibly being on the East Coast. All it took was planning.

Karin took her vacation in Los Angeles that year. From L.A., she rented a car and drove to Sacramento. She had an unregistered gun, an alibi just in case, and the cold rage necessary to put a bullet or six in Megan’s body.

She followed Megan home from FBI headquarters that day, planning on walking straight up to her, making sure Megan knew exactly why she had to die, and then Karin would put a bullet in Agent Megan Elliot’s head. In her mind, Karin watched Megan’s blood and brains hit the wall. The shock on her face, the panic, the fear. The end.

Karin had been so close to pulling the trigger.

But she wanted Megan to suffer. To pay for her treachery and deceit. At one point, they were supposed to have been practically sisters! Karin had shared everything- nearly everything-with Megan. Karin liked having a trainee who listened to her with rapt attention. Karin had wanted to train Megan the right way, and after, Megan would be to Karin what Karin was to her mother-her protegee, her pawn. Karin would train Megan to kill.

But because of Megan, Karin had been forced to kill her own mother. Because of Megan, Karin had been forced to resign from the FBI. Because of that fucking bitch, Karin was now a nobody.

Killing Megan wouldn’t be entirely satisfying. Making her suffer, on the other hand, would nearly make up for everything Karin had lost.

So in the end, Karin left Sacramento without pulling the trigger. She drove back to Los Angeles, then flew back to Washington, D.C., quit her job, and found a similar position in New York City. She learned everything she could about Megan Elliott-all about her brother, Matt, and her half-sister, Margo. About her ex-husband, Mitch, and her friends and neighbors. She had a whole scrapbook on Megan, and she made plans. Karin considered killing everyone Megan cared about, one by one. Her ex-husband-word was that they were still friends. Then Dr. Hans Vigo, who had been their boss in the D.C. office. He had moved over to Quantico, but Karin could get to him. She could get to anyone.

After Hans, she’d move to her neighbor. Then a colleague. Her best friend from college, who Karin had met years ago. Then her half-sister. And then her brother.

Karin loved the research and the planning and she had been about to put her revenge plot in motion when fate intervened, introducing her to Barry Ethan Rosemont.

When she learned that he’d been tortured by acupuncture, Karin knew right then that she had to learn everything about torture. Because while killing Megan’s friends and family would be satisfying, that would only hurt Megan temporarily. Maybe ruin her life. But physical pain and suffering? Where Karin could watch Megan’s body fight uselessly? Where Karin could listen to her beg for mercy? Where Karin could hear Megan scream? Much more satisfying.

She would slowly, over days, maybe weeks, torture the life out of Megan. Her ex-partner would die slowly and in excruciating pain. Karin even considered kidnapping Megan’s brother, now a high-and-mighty D.A., who Megan had always worshipped. How would Megan react to watching her brother being tortured to death?

But Karin wasn’t a monster. She killed only those who deserved it. That was her pact with herself. It was the way she could justify that her actions were righteous.

She’d saved Ethan’s pathetic ass time and time again. All she wanted in return was knowledge. She wanted to learn how to use those needles as effectively as Ethan. Unfortunately, pulling the information from Ethan’s diseased brain had been harder than expected. Karin had to convince him that the only way he would ever be cured, the only way the nightmares would stop, would be to seek revenge on those who turned him over to the Taliban. It took time. Nearly two years.