Last to Die

THIRTY-ONE

THE CASTLE LOOKED ABANDONED.

Jane and Frost pulled into the Evensong parking lot and stared up at dark windows, at the jagged rooftop looming against the starlit sky. There’d been no one to meet them at the gate, and no one had answered the phone when she’d called from the road half an hour ago, using the last weak blip of a cell signal. A black SUV pulled up beside them, and through the windows Jane saw the silhouettes of Carole and her two male associates. One was Denzel, the other was a buff and silent man with a shaved head. When they’d all stopped for gas an hour earlier, neither man had said a word; it was clear that Carole was running this show.

“Something’s wrong,” Jane said. “We would’ve tripped the sensors on the road, so Maura’s got to know we’ve arrived. Where is everyone?”

Frost glanced at Carole’s SUV. “I’d feel a lot better if we had Maine State Police backup. We should’ve called them anyway. Screw the CIA.”

Car doors thumped shut, and Carole and her men stepped out. To Jane’s alarm, they were all strapping on weapons. Already Denzel was moving toward the building.

Jane scrambled out of her car. “What do you people think you’re doing?”

“Time for you to get us inside the building, Detective,” said Carole as she slipped on a communications 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.