“Then we’ll do it my way.” With that, I aimed my Glock at the Lowe nearest me and used the rapid-fire technique Mom had taught me, and fired three shots into his head.
The less said about the blood splatter the better, but the Lowe went down. Moved the gun and shot the next-nearest one. Same thing—three to the head, body went down.
The rest of the Lowes just stood there. Well, not quite. They turned back to face the coming storm. And then they just stood there.
Went up to the next one and put three into the back of his head. Hit his neighbor next.
What I didn’t want to do was miss, however. The blood and bodies and such could be cleaned up. But permanent destruction didn’t say “saving the day.” It said “acting like the Avengers fighting Ultron,” and that was not the way we wanted to be perceived.
Maybe the glass was all bulletproof. And maybe it wasn’t. But either way, a bullet or bullets ripping through the glass would be the definition of a bad idea. I didn’t want to wreck this beautiful building, nor did I want to find out what happened when you were up this high and the twelve-foot glass walls disappeared. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps you were sucked off the platform. Chose not to find out.
“Two minutes until the storm hits you,” Serene said in my ear. “And it’s massive.”
Decided I’d better hurry up. Shot another two dead, which used up my clip. Dug around in my purse for another, popped the old one out and put the new one in. Killed another Lowe.
It was creepy and gross and weird. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I was killing anything for real or if this was all some bizarre stunt of Cliff’s. If so, it made no sense, but crazy people didn’t make sense all the time.
Killed the next three without issue. White was making sure they were really dead. Waited for them to reanimate in some way, but it didn’t happen. Reached the final Lowe. He turned around and smiled at me. A really weird, really crazy smile. “Goodbye,” he said. Just like the Casey Thing had at the police station.
“Bomb!”
White ran forward at hyperspeed and grabbed Lowe, who didn’t resist at all. White spun around a couple of times then flung the body up. “Skeet shooting time, Missus Martini!”
Lowe sailed over the top of the glass wall. I had one shot and I took it. Hit the torso. Not a killing shot.
We all ran to the glass walls. The haboob was almost to the Burj Khalifa, but we were high enough up that it might not bother us. The body exploded just before it was lost in the dust.
“He was confident because the real Lowe wasn’t where he could be caught.”
“I felt all of them.” Abigail sounded as grossed out as I felt.
“Are the rest going to explode, too?” Mahin asked.
White and I looked at each other. “Probably,” I said. “But if not, we’re tossing dead bodies off the side of the tallest building in the world. I don’t know how we explain that.” My music changed to “Bombs Away” by B.o.B. Meaning Algar was suggesting we toss the bodies. “Then again, the haboob may solve the issue for us. Better something on the ground we can clean up than blowing up this level.”
White, Abigail, and I now all did the spin and toss thing, all at hyperspeed, while Mahin watched to see if the bodies exploded or not before they were in the dust storm and so out of view. Some of them did, some of them didn’t.
“I had no idea I had the ability to toss a dead body over a twelve-foot wall. Go team.”
“Do you think Darryl used all of his clones to create the wind that made the storm?” Mahin asked.
“I think if they were moving and talking as one, they might have been powering as one, yeah.”
“That makes sense,” Mahin said. “Because Darryl doesn’t have the range to be doing this from afar, unless he’s expanded his talent in the last few weeks.”
“Why isn’t the haboob stopping?” Abigail asked as we headed back toward the revolving doors. “If it was created, shouldn’t it have died the moment he did?”
“The storm found its own life,” Mahin said. “The winds were strong enough that it’s fueling itself now. Probably not for too much longer, but long enough that we can’t safely leave.”
“Maybe, but we’re above most of it up here, so we might still be able to get people out.”
Abigail looked out one of the window walls. “Yeah, it’s still raging but I don’t think it’s going to hit above about the hundredth floor. So, where do we think the real Lowe is?”
“He has to be nearby, in this building somewhere.” Dropped my almost-empty clip out and put a full one in. Saved the clip with two shots left, though, because who knew, right? “Clones or not, there’s no way that his range has become so massive in the time since we last saw him that he’s somewhere else. Serene, do we have status on the restaurant?”
“It’s being televised because Mister Joel Oliver is there with Jeff, so yes.” Serene sounded tense, which was appropriate in this case. “Everyone’s still alive.” She didn’t add “for now” but assumed she was thinking it.
White tapped on his communicator watch. “Christopher, what have you found?” There was no answer. White tried again. Still silence.
“Christopher’s found a trap or a bunch of enemies and is too busy to talk, is what Christopher’s found. Meaning we have to get off this deck and into the building. The issue is, do we go up or down?”
White was tapping away on his watch. “I have no idea,” he said finally. “Because either the entire team is too busy to respond, or they’re all captured. Or worse.”
“Serene, are you still there?”
“Yes, but I can’t raise anyone else. Nothing shows as malfunctioning but no one is responding to Bluetooth or watch communicators.”
Thought fast. “They’re captured, some or all of the team, and someone’s reverse engineered the tech to spot where we all are. And that means they’re tracing back to you.”
“It’ll take them a long while to manage it,” Serene said. “I’m using Tobin’s equipment.”
“Well and good, but turn the tech off.”
“What, yours?”
“Everyone’s. Turn the watches and Bluetooths and whatever else off right now. Kill them, so to speak. The four of us need to get rid of our watches and earpieces immediately.”
“But Gustav created all this,” Serene protested. “How could they reverse engineer it so fast?”
“LaRue’s clone would be my first guess. The Tinkerer is doing them a solid is my second guess. G-Company employs the best is my third guess. Take your pick, but we’re off the line. Will call you when we can using our regular phones. Anyone calling in on whatever your Bluetooth line is should be immediately suspect. And put up the shield for wherever you are—just in case they’ve had enough time to break Tobin’s scrambling code.”