Last to Die

headset. “Now go to the front door and speak into the intercom. Let them hear your voice, so they’ll know it’s okay to let us in.”

“We came just to collect the kids and get them to a safe place. That’s what we agreed on. Why do you have all this Rambo gear?”

“Change of plans.”

“Since when?”

“Since I decided we need to search the building first. Once we’re in the front door, you wait in your vehicle until we give you the all-clear.”

“You said this was just an evacuation. That’s the only reason we agreed to help you get inside. Now it looks like you’re launching an assault.”

“A necessary precaution.”

“Fuck that. Children are in there. I’m not going to let you shoot up the place.”

“The front door, Detective. Now.”

“It’s not locked,” said Denzel, returning from the building. “We don’t need them.”

Carole turned to him. “What?”

“I just checked it. We can walk right in.”

“Now I know something’s wrong,” said Jane. She turned toward the building.

Carole instantly blocked her way. “Get back in your vehicle, Detective.”

“My friend is in there. I’m going in.”

“I don’t think so.” Carole raised her gun. “Take their weapons.”

“Whoa!” said Frost as Denzel forced him and Jane to their knees. “Can we all bring this down a notch?”

“You know what to do with them,” Carole snapped to Denzel. “If I need you inside, I’ll be on com.”

Jane looked up as Carole and the man with the shaved head strode off toward the building. “Lady, you are so fucked!” she yelled.

“Like she cares,” Denzel laughed. He planted his foot against the small of her back and gave her a push. Jane landed facedown onto the cobblestones. He yanked her hands behind her back, and she felt plastic zip-cuffs suddenly bite into her wrists.

“Asshole,” she spat out.

“Awww. Say more sweet things to me.” He moved on to Frost, securing his wrists with startling efficiency.

“Is this how you guys always operate?” she said.

“It’s how she operates. The Ice Queen.”

“And you don’t have a problem with that?”

“Gets the job done. Everybody’s happy.” He straightened and paced a few steps away as he said into his com unit, “All secure out here. Yes, I copy. Just tell me when.”

Jane rolled onto her side to look at the building, but Carole and the other man had already vanished inside. Now they were roaming those dark halls, adrenaline pumping, instincts primed to fire at any shadow. This mission wasn’t about saving lives; the children were merely pawns in a war waged by a woman with one objective in mind. A woman with ice in her veins.

Denzel’s footsteps moved back toward her, and she looked up to see him standing just above. Silhouetted by the starry sky, his weapon appeared to be an extension of his hand, a black wand of death. She thought of what Carole had said to him, You know what to do, and those words suddenly held a new and frightening meaning. Then Denzel took another step, away from her. He wasn’t looking at her at all. His head swiveled left, then right, searching the darkness, and she heard him whisper: “What the hell?”

Something whistled in the wind, like a knife slitting through silk.

Denzel toppled across her chest, landing so hard that the air rushed from her lungs. Crushed by his weight, she struggled to take a breath. Felt his body twitching in its death throes as something warm and wet soaked through her blouse. She heard Frost yelling her name, but she could not move under that deadweight, could do nothing but stare as footsteps approached. Slow, deliberate.

She looked up at the night sky. At stars, so many stars. The Milky Way was more brilliant than she’d ever seen it before.

The footsteps halted. A man towered above her, eyes glowing in a face smeared with black. She knew what would happen next. Denzel’s body, dripping blood onto hers, told her all she needed to know.

Icarus is here.

THIRTY-TWO

 

IT WAS THE DOG WHO ALERTED THEM. THROUGH THE DOOR OF THEIR cell, Claire heard Bear start to howl again, loud enough to echo through the wine cellar and funnel up the stairs. She did not know what had set him off. Maybe he understood that their time had run out, that Death was even now making His way down the steps to claim them.

“He’s coming back,” Claire said.

In that airless room, she could smell the fear, sharp and electric, the scent of animals awaiting slaughter. Will pressed closer to her, his flesh moist with sweat. He had finally worked the tape off his mouth, and now he leaned in and whispered to her: “Get behind me and stay down, Claire. Whatever happens, just play dead.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you know why?” He looked at her, and even though this was the same chubby, spotty Will she knew so well, she saw something new in his eyes, something she hadn’t noticed before. It was shining there so brightly it could not be missed. “I won’t get another chance to say this,” he whispered. “But I want you to know that …”

The padlock clanged. They both froze as the door squealed open and they saw the barrel of a gun, clutched in gloved hands. The weapon swept an arc around the room, as though seeking a target, and not finding it.

A man with a shaved head stepped into the room and called out, “He’s not in here! But the others are.”

Now a woman entered, sleek and graceful, her hair hidden under a watch cap. “That dog had to be howling at something down here,” she said. They stood side by side, two invaders clad all in black, surveying the room of bound prisoners. The woman’s gaze fell on Claire, and she said: “We’ve met before. Do you remember, Claire?”

Staring up at the woman, Claire suddenly thought of headlights rushing toward her. Remembered the night turning upside down and the sound of shattering glass and gunshots. And she remembered the guardian angel who had magically appeared to pull her from that ruined car.

Take my hand, Claire. If you want to live.

The woman turned to Will, who was staring openmouthed. “And we’ve met, too, Will.”

“You were there,” he murmured. “You’re the one …”

“Someone had to save you.” She pulled out a knife. “Now I need to know where that man is.” She held up the blade, as though offering it as a reward for their cooperation.

“Cut me free,” snapped Sansone, “and I’ll help you take him down.”

“Sorry, but this game’s not for civilians,” the woman said. She looked around at the faces. “What about Teddy? Does anyone know where he is?”

“Screw Teddy,” said Claire. “He’s a traitor. He led us into this trap.”

“Teddy doesn’t know what he’s doing,” the woman said. “He’s been lied to, corrupted. Help me save him.”

“He won’t come out. He’s hiding.”

“Do you know where?”

“On the roof,” said Claire. “That’s where he’s supposed to wait.”

The woman glanced at her partner. “Then we’ll have to go up and get him.” Instead of freeing Sansone, the