David Baldacci: Split Second

Suddenly he put Joan down, leaned over and sucked in long breaths. The effect of his risky face-off with Morse was now hitting him.

"What's the matter?" said Michelle.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he snapped. "That's what."

Kate spoke up. "You were bluffing about the gun, weren't you? It wasn't mine. You just had blanks."

"I was bluffing about the gun, yes," he said between gritted teeth.

Michelle put a hand on his back. "You'll be okay."

"I'm too old for this macho crap ." He took a few last deep breaths and straightened up. "Do you smell smoke?" he asked.

They ran toward the exit and were met by a horrified-looking Bruno. He pointed down the hall where the flames were already impenetrable. Another wall of flames blocked the passageway to the upper floors.

Michelle spotted a black cable on the floor. She pointed it out to King.

"Is that what I think it is?"

He examined it. When he looked up, his face was pale. "He's wired the building with explosives." He glanced around. "Okay, wecan't go out and we can't go up." He eyed the other way down the hall. "And if I remember correctly, that goes to the basement. And there's no exit from there."

"Wait a minute," said Michelle. "We can get out through the basement."

They reached the lower level as smoke from the growing inferno followed them. The lights were on down here, so they could see reasonably well.

"Okay, now what?" said King as he looked at the long hallway that was blocked by debris about midway down. "I told you there were no exits down here. We checked that out when Ritter was here."

"No, over here," said Michelle. She opened the door on the large dumbwaiter. "We'll take this up to the third floor."

"The third floor!" exclaimed Bruno angrily. "And then what, we jump? That's brilliant, Agent Maxwell, just brilliant!"

Hands on hips, Michelle stood right in front of Bruno. "This time you're going to do exactly what I tell you, so just shut up and get in… sir ." She pushed Bruno into the dumbwaiter and then turned to Kate.

King stepped forward. "You go up with Bruno, then send it back down. I'll follow with Joan and Kate."

Michelle nodded, then handed him her pistol. "Real bullets. Just watch yourself."

She climbed into the dumbwaiter, and she and Bruno started pulling on the ropes, propelling themselves upward.

As King tried to revive Joan, Kate slumped to the floor.

"You can just leave me. I don't want to live," she said.

He knelt beside her. "Morse played with your head and your heart,and that's a hard combo to beat. Still, with all that, you couldn't pull the trigger."

"I feel like such a fool. I just want to die."

"No, you don't. You have a long life ahead of you."

"Right. For what, prison?"

"What exactly have you done wrong? You haven't killed anybody. As far as I know, Morse kidnapped you too and held you here."

She looked at him. "Why are you doing this for me?"

He hesitated, then said, "Because I did take your father away from you. I was only doing my job, but when you take someone else's life, doing your job doesn't seem a good enough explanation." He paused. "And you did try to help us. You knew the story you told us about the 1974 war protest wouldn't wash, didn't you? You knew you were way in over your head in something really bad. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

They heard the dumbwaiter coming back down.

"Okay, let's get out of here," said King.

As he helped her up, Kate's scream made him whip around.

Coming at them out of the smoke was Sidney Morse. He swung his metal pole at King; however, King threw himself to the floor, and Morse missed.

King pulled Michelle's gun and pointed it at Morse.

"No more bluffs," Morse said with a sneer.

"No more bluffs," answered King.

The bullet hit Morse in the chest. Looking astonished, Morse dropped to his knees and let the pole fall from his hands. He glanced down, touched the blood streaming out of the wound, then stared dully back up at King.

King rose slowly, pointing his gun squarely at the man's heart. "The first shot was for me. This one's for Arnold Ramsey." King fired and Morse fell backward, dead.

"And you really should have had more respect for the Secret Service," said King quietly as he stood over the body.

When King saw the blood on the end of the metal pole, he froze for an instant, then turned and stared in disbelief. Kate lay against the wall, the side of her head crushed in. Morse had missed him and hit her. The young woman's lifeless eyes stared at him. Morse had killed both the father and the daughter. King knelt down and gently closed her eyes.

He could hear Michelle screaming for him through the dumbwaiter shaft.

He looked at the dead woman for a long moment. "I'm so sorry, Kate. I'm so damn sorry."

King picked up Joan and placed her in the dumbwaiter, then got inside and pulled the rope with all his strength.

Inside a room off the basement corridor, the detonation timer that Morse had engaged before his murderous attack clicked to thirty seconds and counting.

On the third floor King lifted Joan out of the dumbwaiter and explained to Michelle what had happened with Kate and Morse.

"We're wasting time," said Bruno, who obviously couldn't have cared less about the young woman's death. "How do we get out of here?"

"This way," said Michelle as she ran down the hall. They reached the end, and she pointed to the garbage chute attached to the window opening. "There's a Dumpster at the end of the chute."

"I'm not jumping into a garbage bin," said Bruno indignantly.

Michelle said, "Yes, you are."

Bruno seemed about to explode in anger before he noted the deadly serious look in her eyes. He climbed into the chute and with a shove from Michelle rocketed down, screaming all the way.

"You're next, Michelle," said King.

She climbed into the chute and disappeared.

As King, carrying Joan, climbed into the chute, the detonation timer clicked to five seconds.

The Fairmount Hotel started to implode right as King and Joanlanded in the Dumpster. The force of the hotel's disintegration knocked the Dumpster over, which was probably a good thing because the metal bottom shielded them from the brunt of the concussive force, smoke and debris. In fact, it pushed the heavy container a good ten feet across the pavement where it came to a stop a few feet from the electrified fence.

After the dust cleared, they climbed out and looked at the pile of rubble that used to be the Fairmount Hotel. Gone were the ghosts of Arnold Ramsey and Clyde Ritter, as well as the specter of guilt that had haunted King all these years.

King glanced over as Joan groaned, then slowly sat up and looked around, her eyes finally focusing. She saw John Bruno and snapped back. She swung around and spotted King, her expression one of complete astonishment.

He shrugged and said, "Better start taking catamaran lessons."

He looked over at Michelle. She smiled weakly and said, "It's over, Sean."

He gazed at the rubble once more and said, "Yeah, maybe it finally is."

Afew days later Sean King sat on a charred hunk of wood that had been part of his beautiful kitchen as he surveyed the spot where his home had been. He turned when he heard the car pulling up.

Joan got out of her BMW.

"You look fully recovered," he said.

"I'm not sure I ever will be." She sat next to him. "Look, Sean, why won't you take the money? A deal is a deal. You earned it."

"With all you went through you deserve it more than me."

"All I went through! My God, I was drugged. You went through a nightmare fully awake."