James Patterson - Toys

He pointed in the opposite direction, out to where the slum ended at a dried-up river channel and a dark wasteland stretched into the distance. The only structure I knew of there was the city’s old water-filtration plant-a concrete hulk about the size of a sports stadium.

“That old plant?” I said. “How has she managed to sneak in there?”

“That’s where we’ve got a small problem,” McGill said. “Take a look at this.”

He handed me a perspective imager, a slender mask that fit across my eyes and relayed a sharp picture of the building’s interior.

I knew that Lucy would be there-but actually seeing her was like taking a hard punch in the stomach. She and two men were working at tables spread with a cache of rifles and pistols, the kind that shot metal bullets. It looked like they were cleaning the outmoded weapons, getting ready to use them.

And McGill’s “problem” was easy to see on the imager-Lucy had an escape route. The plant’s water mains had been opened and their maintenance hatches torn off. The mains dropped underground and branched into a complex network that ran under the entire city. At the whisper of alarm, Lucy and her team could easily disappear into the tunnels. That was certainly reassuring to me.

“We need her alive,” McGill emphasized, laying a comradely hand on my shoulder. “She knows what the humans are up to. We need to know everything she knows. Actually, this should be fun. For both of us.”

I studied the imager for a few seconds longer. The plant’s entrances were sealed, but there was a row of grimy industrial windows about twenty feet above the ground. That’s where I planned to go. I was starting to see a chance of how I might succeed-by failing.

I took one last close-up look at Lucy’s face, then I set off, ostensibly to capture or kill her.

Minutes later, I was crouched down at the border of the dark wasteland. I had a stun-gun carbine in my hand and was tensing my legs for a sprint to the filtration plant where the Agency had isolated Lucy-I was the point man in her capture. I sucked in one more deep, measured breath. Then I jumped forward, racing in long, springing strides.

I lunged straight up as I reached the building’s granite walls, catching the ledge below a window with my free hand, throwing the carbine to my shoulder with the other.

This was it, life or death. For me, and for Lucy.

I rammed the rifle barrel through the window and aimed. Right now, this instant, I had to be the best marksman I could imagine.

Very slowly, I squeezed the trigger.

Shot of my life.

And Lucy’s too.

Lucy and her men spun around toward the shattering glass. I had fired the most deliberate and careful shot-three inches off her left shoulder.

The stun blast cracked with a flash like a lightning bolt, and Lucy went reeling. But she stayed on her feet. I figured that she would.

So far, so good.

But then they didn’t run for the tunnels. The three of them stumbled away in the wrong direction-farther into the plant. What was she doing? This made no sense.

Maybe I’d cut the shot too close, jolted her completely out of her senses?

I swung myself boots-first through the window and dropped in a driving rain of glass to the floor below. I needed to save Lucy, somehow-with McGill watching my every move.

She was sealing her own doom though, fleeing even deeper into the plant instead of using the escape route. And she was moving faster now too, disappearing in the dark maze of machinery, pipes, and catwalks, then reappearing for a glimpse, then disappearing again. But why go back into the building?

If I tried to chase her, I’d never catch her in time. McGill and the others would get to her for sure.

So I threw the rifle onto my shoulder again. Another near-impossible shot was needed. Could I do it twice in a row? I had to.

Very slowly-now squeeze, Hays .

The flashing stun jolt slammed Lucy to the floor. She was definitely down, but was she out, unconscious? Or had I just killed her?

I lunged forward to scoop her up and race back toward the tunnels and the way out. The Elite air-assault units were directly overhead now-I only had a minute or two left before they arrived.

Whoom! A megaforce laser blast hit the plant’s roof, vaporizing at least a forty-foot section. That showed it wasn’t a good idea to wage war against the Elites.

The pulsing lights of Agency aircraft appeared directly above the hole, then black-uniformed commandos came leaping through it and into the building.

I had messed up and it was going to cost Lucy. Now there was only a single option to keep Moore and McGill from getting their hands on her.

I dropped to my knees beside Lucy. Her face was turned toward me, her cheek resting on the cold concrete. Her eyes were barely open, but I could tell she could see me. “Lucy.”

I drew my laser pistol and took a very deep breath. I had to kill her!

“Stop.” Her mouth hardly moved and her voice was as faint as a sigh. But there was no mistaking the tone of command in her next few words. “Ruthless. Remember, Hays?”

I needed her to understand something. “They’re going to kill you by inches! It’s called a slow death. It’s excruciating.”

Damned if her lips didn’t curl into the faintest trace of a smile. A smile? Now?

“That’s what they want you to think,” she whispered. “When I give you a cue- take it. ”

There was no time for more words between us, not even a good-bye. The Elite commandos were all over the catwalk above us, starting to rappel down.

I still could have killed Lucy, and then myself, but I didn’t do it.

I was clinging to her words. When I give you a cue-take it!

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

McGill didn’t waste any time getting right in my face. My old buddy and partner was a distant memory, and an illusory one at that. This two-faced bastard was no friend of mine.

“That first shot was sloppy, Hays,” he said. “Not like you. Are you losing it?”

“Hanging by one hand, with a second to aim and shoot?” I snapped back. “Next time, you take the shot, good buddy. I’ll be the critic on the sidelines!”

Suddenly, his mask of camaraderie flashed. “Hey, take it easy,” he said. “I’m just saying-maybe you’re not as steady as you thought you were.”

I nodded. “You’re probably right, partner.” Then I turned away quickly, before he could see my sneer. No, make that my hatred of him.

I began to walk to my car, gripped by the fact that I was abandoning Lucy to slow death. The torture was a perversion of regeneration therapy. The victim’s body was permeated by an electromagnetic field that sent impulses to specific areas, thousands of them per minute. But instead of healing, the impulses attacked nerve clusters with violent shocks. It was like having a white-hot probe moving inside the body, with the victim never knowing where it would stab and wound next-only that it would.

The agony could go on for weeks, and with someone as strong and determined as Lucy, it probably would. What made it even worse-Lizbeth had managed the team that perfected the torture machine. My sweet little Jinx.

McGill was first up with Lucy in the interrogation room, which worried me. Usually I was first. What was going on? What did it mean for Lucy?

“I’m sure you aren’t very bright, but you must understand that you’re going to talk anyway. Why not spare yourself the hours of unnecessary torture?” he asked her, for starters.

Lucy glanced at McGill like she was looking at a slug eating garbage. She still hadn’t said word one to him. In fact, she barely looked at him.