Jan Burke - Nine

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A drug kingpin on the FBI's Most Wanted list is found hanging upside down over a bathtub, his corpse drained of blood. The killing looks like an organized-crime payback hit-until another Ten Most Wanted criminal is found similarly strung up, and then another. Soon Detective Alex Brandon of the L.A. County Sheriff's Department is grappling not only with a testy partner and a complicated home life, but also with a band of brilliant vigilantes whom the public starts to regard as heroes.
Alex Brandon is almost too good to be true, with his penetrating blue eyes, his steely toughness, his politeness, and his tenacious smarts. But Jan Burke-best known for her well-regarded series featuring reporter Irene Kelly-is such a sane, intelligent writer that Brandon and the book's many other characters come vividly alive. She's also a fine craftsman of individual scenes, many of which are perfectly paced little dramas or comedies. Nine's gripping, multithreaded plot is sometimes too complex for its own good, and the climax tips into melodrama, but overall the reliable Burke, a past winner of the Edgar and other mystery awards, has produced another winning read.

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Kit glanced down as he took the rappelling rope from his shoulders and said, “On his way up.”

But suddenly, Kit heard a loud snapping noise. “Alex!”

Alex had heard it, too-the breaking of hemp. He reached for the second rope and caught hold of it just as the first one gave way. He slid several feet, unable to stop, the friction of the rough rope burning off the skin of his palms. Spooky screamed as he fell, and for terrifying seconds he envisioned becoming a human detonating device on the sandbags below. But he managed at last to wrap his legs around the rope, stopping his descent. Although the rope swung wildly with his sudden weight, he kept his grip on it. He repositioned his legs around it so that he was once again in climbing position, then forced himself to smile up at the group above him, who were looking at him with eyes wide with fear.

He heard another chime.

“I’m fine,” he said, and prayed this rope would hold.

The burn in his raw palms was unrelenting as he gripped the rope, but he forced himself on and reached the level of the platform a second time. Kit had unwrapped the end of the rappelling rope from the rail and now tossed it to Alex. Alex caught it, and Kit worked with him, pulling him to the platform.

When he reached it, Chase held tightly to him. “It’s going to be okay,” Alex said. “We’re all going to be okay. But we’ve got to hurry, all right? You sit next to Spooky, and I’ll make a harness.”

Spooky took Chase in hand and guided him to a place away from the edge. She sat next to him.

Alex leaned out of the narrow window. Meghan was below with the climbing bag. He lowered the rappelling rope, and Meghan tied the climbing bag to it. Alex pulled it up. He took out his harness, stepped into it, and quickly adjusted it to fit over his clothing. He tied a large loop into one end of the rope, making a simple adjustable sling. He attached a carabiner to his harness and an ATC-an “air traffic control” device, a belay brake that would allow him to control the speed of descent.

All the while, Alex was talking to the other three. He told them about leaning back with their knees slightly bent, keeping their legs almost perpendicular to the wall, their feet about shoulder width apart. He showed them how to hold the rope. “Use your feet against the wall, not your hands, and walk down it-don’t bounce.

“I want you down there first to help on the ground,” he said to Kit, knowing that Spooky and Chase would feel more confident if Kit led the way.

Alex placed the loop over Kit’s head and shoulders, feeding Kit’s arms through, so that it wrapped around his back just beneath his armpits. Alex checked to make sure the knot was close to Kit’s chest, so that he wouldn’t slip out. “Spooky and Chase, watch how Kit moves, okay?”

Kit squeezed through the window. Alex braced himself, then rapidly top belayed Kit down.

Meghan was below. “I couldn’t make the calls,” she said, as Kit came closer. “Everett cut the phone line and microphone line for the PA system.”

“We’re beyond that now,” Kit said, reaching the ground and quickly freeing himself of the rope. He signaled to Alex that he was clear of it. He watched as Alex rapidly pulled it back up. “Where’s Gabe?” he asked Meghan.

“Helping a wounded FBI agent.”

Up in the tower, Alex heard another chime. Seven of the nine connections were in place. He told Spooky to go next. She looked mulish, but Alex, thinking of the loss of time, made it a sharp order. Chase watched as she was lowered. Alex found himself sweating again, thinking that it was taking too long. What if he had missed hearing one of the chimes? Maybe there were eight in place, and any moment now, the explosives would go off.

“She’s doing okay,” Chase said. “Kit has her!”

As Kit released Spooky from the rope, he turned to Meghan. “Take her out of here-please, Meghan! Go to the stables-run-get as far away as you can. You should be safe with Gabe.”

“Promise you’ll be right behind us.”

“I promise.”

Spooky opened her mouth to argue with the plan, then shut it and gave him a quick hug as she left with Meghan.

Alex pulled the rope up again.

“As fast as you can, Chase,” Alex said.

“Sure.”

Alex helped him secure the loop of rope beneath his arms, all the while afraid that he was asking too much of him in his present state. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

“No,” Chase said, smiling at him. “I’m fine.”

“Talk to me as you go, all right?”

Chase began the descent without trouble, calling as he went. It seemed he would manage after all. But when Chase was nearly to the base of the tower, Alex felt a change in the rope, and heard Chase’s cry of pain even as the belay device locked under the sudden load. “Chase!”

“He’ll be okay,” Kit called back. “I think he’s hurt his leg, though. Can you keep lowering him? I can almost reach him.”

Alex slowly eased the rope out. He could feel the moment Kit had Chase, and hurried to look below. Kit had lifted Chase into a fireman’s carry. Chase wasn’t small, but Kit seemed to hold him easily.

“His ankle,” Kit called up to him. “I think he’s broken it. He passed out when he tried to put weight on it.”

Another chime sounded below.

“Get him away from here!” Alex shouted. “Go, now!”

Alex heard the eighth ball snap into place.

“I don’t want to leave you behind!” Kit shouted.

“I’ll catch up. Kit-for God’s sake, if anything happens to that boy-better one of us than all three. I’ll make it. Just go!”

Kit hesitated a moment more, then hurried away.

Alex fumbled as he set up the harness and rope, his hands growing stiff, his fingers suddenly clumsy. He heard the final chime just as he reached the window, and knew he could not possibly make it down in time. Strangely, knowing that released him from his fear. He thought of Chase safe with Kit and leaned back to enjoy one last rappel.

Kit heard sirens as he ran across the baseball field. He was slowed by his burden, but began to hope they might make it clear of the explosion. Chase had passed in and out of consciousness, protesting mildly about being carried, but Kit ignored him and moved on. His chest felt tight, but he knew it was not from exertion or the weight of the teenager on his shoulders.

Just as he reached the edge of the woods, he heard the roar of the bomb going off. Its force knocked him off balance, and the ground shook beneath them. He moved to shield Chase as debris rained down on them in hard little pellets of stone and mortar. A cloud of dust rolled from where the tower had stood. The buildings nearest to the tower collapsed seconds later.

“Alex!” he screamed, but there was no answer. He stood and saw Meghan and Spooky coming toward him. “Take care of Chase,” he called to them.

“Kit!” Meghan cried. “No-!”

But he had already turned back toward the cloud of dust that had once been stone.

He moved cautiously over the rubble. Fires were burning now, lighting his way, but the heat and smoke and stench were nearly unbearable.

He thought about the fact that he had been running without counting to seven. He told himself that didn’t matter. But he didn’t see Alex, and when he called Alex’s name, there was no answer. Kit wondered, not for the first time, why he had been allowed to live.

There was still a fog of dust mixed with the smoke. It made his eyes dry. He coughed. As he moved closer to the tower, the air became worse. His nose and lungs hurt, as if he were breathing shards of glass. He coughed, then realized he hadn’t, but had heard, faintly, someone else’s cough. “Alex!” he yelled, but there was no answer-except the coughing. He crouched lower and followed the sound to the remains of one of the classroom buildings.

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