Third Strike

She stepped forwards. “I had no part in this, Charlie,” she said, fierce to the point of tears as she fumbled with the restraints. “Please believe me.”

“I do,” I said.

My arms dropped abruptly and I discovered I’d been entirely right about one thing. Being strung up was nasty but, for the moment, being let down seemed worse. My knees went and, if Terry hadn’t arrested my descent, I would have fallen. The blood pounded back into my whitened fingers, making the nails pulse as though I’d plunged both hands into boiling water. I tried to cradle my arms to my body, but all they did was flop like a pair of drowning fish. The young security guard fumbled out of his jacket and draped it round my shoulders. His face was past scarlet and heading for a shade of purple.

I tried to smile my thanks but my eyes kept sliding past him, wouldn’t focus.

“Go and tell them we’ve found her,” Terry said to him. “Tell them to hurry!” He all but ran out of the room.

And, by the sound of it, straight into a fist.

All we heard was the contact of something hard meeting something softer by comparison, the explosive whump of air being knocked out of the guard’s lungs, and the solid thud as he hit the ground.

Terry started, but before she could do more than half-rise, the door was pushed open again and Collingwood came in. He was carrying a standard-issue Glock 9mm with the lazy facility of someone completely at home with a firearm, and the dead-eyed stare of someone who thinks nothing of using it.

He took in the scene almost instantly. My incapacity. Terry, crouched with her arms protectively around my shoulders. And Vondie’s body. He moved towards her as though his legs were taking him of their own volition, against his better judgment. Silently, he stood over his dead agent, as if to confirm she was really gone. But there was nothing in his rumpled face. No pain, no sorrow, no anger.

I skimmed my own eyes over the corpse with something close to regret. Regret that I hadn’t grabbed the opportunity to take the gun off her hip the moment I’d got loose. As soon as the thought had formed, I dismissed it. I wouldn’t be able to hold the damn thing straight yet, anyway. My arms were burning with pins and needles, so I wanted to rub them to ease the violent scuttering under my skin, but I couldn’t bear the touch.

Collingwood turned towards us, the gun still held casually at his side, the fingers of his free hand twitching.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said softly. “That was a mistake you’ll pay for.”

“For God’s sake,” Terry said, her voice cracking. “She was torturing Charlie!”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Collingwood said, certainty ringing through his voice like struck crystal.

Desperate measures. Was that all you were doing, Vondie? Trying to break me? Is that why you told me I was pregnant? Even though …

“What ‘desperate times’?” Terry demanded.

“Whether you want to believe it or not, Ms. O’Loughlin, we are at war. The enemies of our country plot against us constantly,” Collingwood said. “We must, ah, use every means at our disposal to combat that threat.”

“And that includes torturing innocent women?” Terry threw at him, the anger almost, but not quite, subjugating her fear. She rose, shoulders stiff. “I must have missed the day they taught that class at law school.”

“Sacrifices have to be made,” Collingwood said blankly. “Collateral damage.”

Collateral damage. Is that how Vondie thought of me? She was going to pump me full of drugs, knowing what they’d do to an unborn child. Was that just collateral damage, or was she simply having a good time?

“Is that all Dr. Lee was to you?” she asked. “And his wife? And Charlie, her parents, Sean? Me?” She stepped forwards, looked him straight in the eye. “What about me, Mr. Collingwood? Am I just collateral damage, too?”

He stared back and I saw his shoulders drop a fraction. For a second, I thought she might actually have got through to him.

“Yes,” he said. He bent his elbow to bring the Glock up, pointing straight at her. “Move back a little farther, if you don’t mind, Ms. O’Loughlin. I really would hate to have to kill you unless it was entirely necessary.”

“Yes, I’d hate that, too,” said a voice from the doorway, and Sean slid into view fast and smooth. Like Collingwood, he too had a Glock, but he was holding it at shoulder height, right hand supported by left, finger inside the guard and already taking up the first stage of the trigger, which acted as the safety. The gun was a hairsbreadth from firing, but Sean’s voice was steady, relaxed, showing no strain.

His eyes darted sideways, just once, but I knew he’d taken in the whole thing in that single rapid survey. Knew he’d seen what they’d done to me, could fill in most of the rest.

But not all of it, Sean.

For the first time since he’d entered the room, Collingwood’s face showed a hint of unease. He glanced at Terry, not letting the muzzle of his own gun deviate. He gave a kind of sad smile and looked back at Sean.

“You pull that trigger, son, chances are I’ll fire anyhow.”

Sean shook his head and smiled politely. “Two through the mouth will take out your brain stem,” he said. “The only thing you’ll do is die. Quickly.”

“You Special Forces boys are all the same—all show,” Collingwood said. “Had a sniper in Afghanistan who swore the same thing to me. Tried it on a rebel who was holding a ten-year-old girl hostage. Bastard still blew her brains out as he dropped.”

“Perhaps your sniper wasn’t as good as he thought he was.”

Sean was good enough, I knew. He always had been. And if they’d matched off hand-to-hand, he was good enough to break Collingwood’s neck before the older guy had a chance to spit.

“Perhaps he wasn’t,” Collingwood said. “Either way, somehow I don’t think you’ll risk it, son. Not today. So, I’ll give you three seconds to put that gun down before I shoot the lady lawyer here. One.”

Sean’s Glock stayed up and on target. So did Collingwood’s. It was Terry who’d begun to tremble. Sean didn’t waver.

What kind of a father will he make?

“Two.”

Sean shifted slightly. Collingwood wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t let his gaze slide sideways to check the movement. As if they’d planned it, Terry O’Loughlin leapt forwards, her right foot swinging, and kicked him in the balls like she was hoping for nothing better than to see them reappear as lumps in his throat.

Collingwood’s reactions were nowhere near as good as Sean’s had been under the same circumstances. The government man didn’t even get to twitch before the blow landed. He certainly didn’t get the chance to take a shot of his own before Sean was on him, twisting the gun out of his nerveless fingers.

Collingwood folded up slowly, mouth working without producing sound other than a slow exhalation, like the last gasp of a deflating rubber dingy. Sean watched him go down and turned away.

“I have to hand it to you, Terry,” he said as he came past her, “you’ve got one hell of a set of legs on you.”

“Mm,” she said, breathless, her voice almost remote. “I played soccer in college.”

“Yeah, and I’ll bet you were a striker.” He bent in front of me, fingers under my chin to tip my head back, checking the size of my pupils. “What did they give you, Charlie?” he asked, and if he seemed cold and detached, I knew that was the only way he could deal with this.

“They stuck me with something to put me out after they cattle-prodded me,” I said. My throat felt raw like I’d been screaming. I nodded towards the smashed contents of the trolley. “Vondie was after payback as much as info, I think, but she didn’t get a chance to add anything else to the mix.”

He brushed my chin with gentle fingers, brought my focus back. “Good,” he said softly, and smiled at me.

I nearly told him right then. Nearly let it burst out of me, but the words just lodged in my throat.

“What?” Sean said quickly, but behind us Collingwood got enough of his breath back to begin to groan.

“It’ll keep,” I said, dredging up a smile of my own from reserves I didn’t know I had.

It’ll keep until I know for certain.

We heard footsteps outside the door. Sean turned, braced, shielding my body with his own, but it was my