The Obsidian Chamber

69

Longstreet jogged up the beach and soon arrived at the main house. It was already surrounded by Team Blue, and a hostage negotiator was on a megaphone telling everyone to get out, last warning. They were coming in and any resistance would be met with deadly force.

“Anyone in there?” Longstreet asked, coming up to the Blue leader.

“We don’t know. No shots fired, no sightings, no sounds. Could be empty.”

Longstreet nodded. Diogenes wasn’t in there, he knew it the minute he saw the house — a rambling wooden structure that would burn in five minutes, that offered no cover anywhere: a 9mm round would go straight through the entire building.

“Hit it with flash-bangs and go in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m moving on — I’ve got a special assignment to do.” Longstreet turned away. Diogenes and the woman were somewhere else. The assault on the house would be a perfect diversion, allowing him to track them down when they least expected it. As he moved away, he heard the man on the megaphone announcing that their last opportunity to come out had expired; and a moment later came the sound of shattering glass and the muffled booms of the flash-bangs.

Moving stealthily through the mangroves, away from the main action, Pendergast supported Constance while keeping Diogenes in front, at gunpoint. His brother moved slowly, as if in a fog. They proceeded with stealth, maintaining the deepest cover. Ahead, he could see a second fire through the trees; it was, he knew, the caretaker’s cottage. A moment later he peered into the clearing surrounding the house. It was indeed on fire, having been cleared and taken. The fat copy of Ulysses now lay in the sand, along with numerous footprints. The SWAT team had moved on, leaving the area empty.

“Keep moving,” Pendergast said, gesturing toward the trail that led from the cottage to the beach.

“Where are we going?” Diogenes asked.

Pendergast did not answer. They moved along the trail and, a few moments later, came out at the edge of the beach. Pendergast paused to reconnoiter. It was empty. An FBI Zodiac was tied up at the pier, opposite the main house. He could see two people loading the wounded on stretchers into the boat. Shortly the boat’s engine fired up and it left the dock, speeding southwest. The rest of the activity now seemed confined to the main house.

They walked on, keeping to the deepest shadows of the trees hanging over the edge of the sand. About two-thirds of the way up the long beach, Pendergast halted. Just offshore lay the string of tiny mangrove islands dotting the shallows.

“Aloysius.”

To Pendergast’s astonishment, a figure of a man emerged from the edge of darkness. Longstreet. A gun was in his hand.

“After our last conversation, I should have figured you’d find your own way down here,” Longstreet said.

Pendergast remained silent.

“I’m not sure what you’re up to,” said Longstreet, “but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you dropped that 1911 of yours into the sand.”

Pendergast dropped his gun.

“You may have forgotten honor, and our oath, but I haven’t.” Longstreet stepped forward and pointed his gun at Diogenes. “Now is the moment,” he said. “Prepare to die, you bastard.”

There was a long silence.

This seemed to unnerve Longstreet. He glanced at Pendergast. “He killed Decker.”

More silence.

“I’ll drop him, we’ll get our stories straight, and nobody will be the wiser.”

Constance spoke. “No.”

Longstreet ignored her. His finger tightened on the trigger.

“No!” Constance cried, suddenly lunging at Diogenes and pushing him sideways just as the gun went off, the round missing. She placed herself in front of Diogenes.

“For fuck’s sake, get her out of my way,” Longstreet said to Pendergast.

Pendergast looked at him. “My answer is also… no.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You will not kill him.”

“We swore an oath! He murdered Decker. You yourself said killing him was the only way!”

“He’s my brother.”

Longstreet stared at him, speechless.

“I’m sorry,” said Pendergast. “It’s… family.”

“Family?”

“You have to be a Pendergast, perhaps, to understand. I’m guilty of terrible crimes against my brother. I’m the reason he is the way he is. I realize now that if I’m party to killing him, I won’t be able to live with myself — and I mean that in the most literal way possible. I’ll have no choice but to end my own life.”

Longstreet looked back and forth between the brothers incredulously. “Son of a bitch, if this doesn’t take the cake.”

“H, please. Don’t kill my brother. He’ll disappear and you’ll never hear from him again. You have my word.”

At this, Diogenes laughed sarcastically, grotesquely. “For the love of God, don’t listen to him. Kill me! I want to die. Oh do man up, frater, and tell your pal to pull the trigger!” A choking sob escaped his lips, even as his laugh continued.

“He’s a serial killer,” Longstreet said. “You expect me to just let him go?”

“Ko ko rico!” Diogenes said abruptly, spewing Longstreet with saliva. “Ko ko rico!”

“Believe me — allowing Diogenes to live will bring him far more pain than anything our criminal justice system could mete out.” Pendergast paused. “And he isn’t going to kill again — I know that now. But it’s your decision. I put his life — and mine — in your hands. Constance, please step away.”

Constance hesitated a moment, then complied.

An unbearably tense minute passed. And then Longstreet slowly lowered the gun. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said. He stared at Diogenes with open hatred and spat into the sand. “If I ever see you again, motherfucker, you’re a dead man.”

Pendergast moved quickly, uncuffing Diogenes, who had abruptly gone silent, staring.

“Wade out to that cluster of islands,” Pendergast spoke to him quickly. “In the outermost one, you’ll find a kayak in the mangroves.” He held out the Osprey pack. “In here is food, water, money, and a chart. Head for Johnston Key. Lie low. When things have died down, make your way back to civilization. I’ve no doubt you can come up with a good story and a new identity. And, I hope, a new outlook as well. Because Diogenes Pendergast died here — in the explosion. Metaphorically and literally.”

After a hesitation, Diogenes took the pack and slipped it onto his back. He stepped forward, bent sharply, moving slowly, as if under a far heavier load than the pack could account for. He began wading out into the dark waters. But then he turned. His dim form wavered in the murky gloom, like a disembodied ghost. “Died, you say? Frater, you’re quite right. I am become death.” And then he turned and vanished into the night.

After a long hush, Longstreet turned to Pendergast. “That was a big one to ask. Too big. You’ve caused me to break both my oath and my sworn duty as a federal officer.” He glanced around. “I think we’re done here — and you and I, brother, we’re also done.” He turned briskly. “What about her?”

Pendergast spoke with quiet meaning in his voice: “You’re referring to the kidnap victim? Thank God we managed to rescue her. Constance, Agent Longstreet will take care of you now and get you to a hospital. There will be a debriefing, of course, in which you’ll tell the FBI all about your kidnapping.”

“I understand, but… what will you do, Aloysius?” asked Constance, staring at Pendergast.

“I will go home. And await you there.”

As they spoke, two more Zodiacs came roaring in over the water toward the pier, followed by a third. They were filled with men. A fire was now leaping up above the trees — the main house was going up in flames, as Longstreet knew it would from the flash-bangs. The men piled out of the Zodiacs and came running down the pier, some heading toward the burning house, a few peeling off and running up the beach toward them. Longstreet quickly replaced his headset and switched it on.

“Is everything all right?” one cried.

“Fine,” he said. “We rescued the kidnap victim. Constance Greene. She’s hurt: evacuate her in a Zodiac, take her straight to Lower Keys Medical. Assign two agents for her protection.”

“And the target? Any word on him?”

Longstreet hesitated for a second, jaws working. “Took the coward’s way out,” he said brusquely. “At our approach, he blew himself to kingdom come in a massive detonation. I doubt we’ll find so much as a fingernail. Gentlemen, the operation is now over.”