James Patterson - Double Cross

I bent my knees slightly, and then I went down on them. I didn’t see that I had a choice. Kyle didn’t like to be disobeyed. That much I knew for sure.

“Ah, that’s good. This is how I like seeing you. As a supplicant. You know, I almost wish DCAK was alive to witness this.”

“You could have saved him.”

“Maybe. Probably not. I really think the boy wanted to die. I studied his early murders while I was still an agent. He made contact with me at Florence. I think… I might have been a father figure to him. You’d know better than me. I can’t live in the past, though. I’m not much for regrets either. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“What did he mean when he said, ‘ In your honor’ ?”

“Oh, that. He was a fan, of course. Who isn’t? So was the girl. His sister? Who knows? They got the messages to me at ADX through my lawyer. Another fan. They’re all just freaks, Alex. Although… he did give you a good run.

“I helped him with a few ideas. The football stadium-that was me. And I suggested Tess Olsen, of course. That one was in my honor .”

Kyle walked forward, and he put the gun to my temple. There wasn’t any unsteadiness in his hand.

“I, Kyle Craig, being of sound mind and body,” he said, and smiled broadly, wickedly, insanely, “choose to spare the life of Alex Cross. At this time, anyway.”

He took a step away. “I told you, twenty-three hours a day. Four years in there. I can’t let you off this easy. A couple of minutes of abject fear-that’s nothing in comparison to what I went through. It’s not enough payback. Not even close! You’ll see.”

Kyle continued to back away. “I have bigger and better plans for you, Alex. One thing is for sure, I’m going to torture you and your family to death. Don’t bother to try to hide them. I’m really good at finding people. That was my specialty at the Bureau. I have skills, Alex. The Mastermind. Remember?”

“Put the gun down, Craig. Do it slowly, you piece of shit. Or you really will understand payback .”

It was Bree. I couldn’t see her yet, but I wanted to warn her.

About Kyle Craig, and why you should never, ever warn him.

My mouth opened -

“BREE!”

Kyle had been an FBI field agent, and before that he was with Special Forces in the army. He was an expert with knives, guns, even explosives, and I knew that from past experience. He was no one to fool with-no one to warn .

He heard Bree’s voice, and before she finished her threat, he was twisting his body around toward her and diving at the ground. I watched-unable to do anything to stop it from happening.

“Bree!”

His Beretta came up level and was aimed at the center of her chest-he wouldn’t take a chance of missing what would be a difficult shot, especially while he was still moving. He had her in his sights, and I had one thought: Take me instead .

I’m not sure if Bree waited until she had finished the words “you really will understand payback .” I doubt it.

She fired-and Kyle Craig jerked in midair. His mouth flew open in surprise. His eyes went wide.

He never got a shot off. He landed with a dull thud on the ground and lay there with one leg twitching. Finally he let go of the Beretta. Then, nothing at all.

Nothing.

Blessedly, nothing .

I hurried forward, kicked away his gun. I crouched beside Kyle, who I’d once thought was a friend and who had turned into my worst enemy. His eyes were open, and he looked at me, right into my eyes, maybe my soul. He stared, and I wondered if he was dying at that instant, and if he knew it.

Then Kyle spoke, and he said something so very strange, something I didn’t understand, not to this day. “In your honor,” he said.

Then a horrible rattle began to stir somewhere back in his throat.

And I liked it. Sad to say, horrifying to me, I was relieved and exultant. I’d liked being in the audience , so much so that I clapped my hands together and applauded Bree.

And then, suddenly, Kyle was on all fours, then up on his feet. He pulled another gun from a holster behind his back.

Bree had lowered her gun, and now he had us.

“Put down the gun, Detective,” he said in the calmest voice I’d ever heard. “I don’t want to kill you right now. Not just yet. Tell her, Alex .”

“She won’t listen,” I said.

“Then she’s a dead girl. Put the gun down . For Christ’s sake, if I wanted to kill you, I would have pulled the trigger already.”

Bree bent at the knees and lowered her gun to the ground.

Kyle pulled the trigger.

But he missed her on purpose.

“You know, Bree,” he said in the same deadly calm voice, “the advice about chest shots versus head shots is good as far as it goes, but”-he patted his own chest-“it doesn’t allow for the possibility of vests, which I always wear to parties like this one. You should too. Especially with that exemplary chest of yours.”

Kyle started to back away from us. Then he smiled and said, “Oh, what the hell! Sorry, Alex!”

He fired in Bree’s direction-twice-and purposely missed again. Then he laughed and ran down the alley, disappearing around the first corner, still laughing.

The Mastermind.

DCAK WAS STILL ALIVE. Bree and I met up with Nana and the kids at Washington Hospital Center, where Sampson and “Anthony” were being treated. “Sandy Quinlan” hadn’t made it; she died before the ambulance came.

Sampson was going to be fine, according to his doctors. He needed stitches and fluids, but I had no doubt he’d be driving the staff crazy by checkout time tomorrow. Eventually, we retreated to a waiting area so that Billie and Djakata could have some alone time with the Big Man. Billie didn’t seem too happy with him, though, or with me.

The kids were full of questions, and Bree and I answered as many as we could. Though-as always-we didn’t have all the answers ourselves. Not yet, and maybe not ever. Especially where Kyle Craig was concerned.

“So, who were those people really? DCAK?” Jannie wanted to know. I’ve always loved her curiosity, but I wasn’t sure what to make of this budding interest in things forensic. The last thing we needed was another Dragon Slayer in our house on Fifth Street.

“We should know more soon,” I told her. Both Anthony and Sandy-her body, anyway-had been fingerprinted. I thought they’d probably show up somewhere, in somebody’s files, maybe even in Kyle Craig’s old notes from his FBI days.

I finally sent the family home, and Bree and I went to look in on our captive. We watched “Anthony” through a window while a post-op medical team got him stabilized for transfer. He was handcuffed to a hospital bed and lay there the whole time, staring at the ceiling. I’d seen this stillness in him earlier that day. It was impossible to read. Was it defeat? Calculation? Boredom? The answers would help us know whether he was headed for a penitentiary or a psych ward.

“The names are Aaron and Sarah Dennison.”

I turned to see Ramon Davies standing behind us. “IAFIS turned Aaron up. He’s wanted in two states that we know of so far. California and Nevada. Aaron was a suspect in two murder cases, one in each state. His sister Sarah’s record was clean. They did some acting in Vegas, Tahoe, Sacramento -mostly regional theater.”

“Where were they right before DC? Do we know that?” I asked the superintendent.

“In and out of LA. Why?”

I shook my head and looked back through the window at him- Aaron , not Anthony. “Just curious if any of it was the truth, the things he told me. LA would be where he followed the case with Michael Bell. The Mary, Mary case. He must have been in touch with Kyle Craig from there too.”