To Snatch a Thief

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX



The light above the lift indicated it had stopped at the third floor. ‘Anything?’ Newman ordered, as they raced out.

‘Nothing.’

‘Stephen! Damn. He’s switched his communicator off.’ She watched with rising dread as he punched numbers onto his klip. ‘Inactive.’ His murmured, ‘It’s almost as though he doesn’t want to be found,’ was barely out of his mouth when he touched his communicator bead again. ‘Smith?’

Smith’s clipped voice rang with urgency. ‘Sir. The geeks came through. Every floor’s wired with incendiaries - they didn’t intend to leave any evidence. Robotic bomb disposal’s on their way. We’ve secured the prisoners. Bunker area’s cleared. The rest of the team’s coming in to help with the evacuation.’

‘Any news on those cameras?’

‘Whole systems out, sir.’

‘Jeeze. Okay.’ He barely spared Skye a glance before diving into the stairwell. ‘Get out of here, Forrester. I’m going up to the fourth.’

Skye’s brain raced. How long. How long till the whole place became a fire-ball? Think. Alone in the corridor, she pressed trembling fingers to her temples praying for inspiration, willing herself into Narelle’s shoes. Think. Where might she go? Not to her office – way too obvious. Where would she go in the same situation? My laboratory had been raided, the building crawling with police, my organisation in tatters. Sure, destroy evidence, but I’d want to survive. Narelle was intelligent and smart. Where was the safest place to hide? Somewhere they wouldn’t expect her to be.

And suddenly Skye knew. She’d double back. Nobody would look for her in a place that had already been well searched. A spurt of hope had her racing for the stairwell. If the incendiaries went off, she wasn’t going to be caught in the lift. Even as she tripped, nearly fell, grabbed for the rail to stop plunging headlong down three flights, Skye pushed on. Taking the stairs two at a time, she spun round the turns – too many steps, so many turns until she all but fell into the now deserted bunker.

And found herself staring into the barrel of a GIG-95.

‘A herd of elephants would have made less noise.’ He moved into the light: tall, elegant, dark-suited, his smile pleasant, his eyes cold and black. ‘I’m afraid your luck just ran out, little girl.’

‘Dr Cahill!’ The shock of recognition had her staggering back, but her chin rose in defiance. ‘You won’t get away,’ she snarled. ‘You’re surrounded. You might as well give yourself up.’

The charming smile widened. ‘Don’t worry about us. We’ve organised a little distraction. Once Narelle’s disposed of the Lieutenant, we’ll be on our way. She won’t be long, now. We have a plane to catch. Don’t move,’ he warned, as he saw her shift her weight. ‘I will shoot. But believe me you’ll prefer the toxin - so much cleaner and less painful than this crude method.’ He sighed, tilting his head to study her while lifting a small phial from his pocket. ‘It’s a pity we didn’t have more time; we would have enjoyed getting to know each other better. I gave you every opportunity to live, but you, like those other two meddling females, just couldn’t help sticking your nose where it didn’t belong.’

Her knee-jerk reaction - the jolt in her eyes, had him raising a brow.

‘A-are you talking about Corporal Blake? And Willow? You killed them? What about Jonathon and all the rest? Did you kill them too?’ It was saying something about the sad state of her emotions, Skye thought, that she could actually feel relief to at last find out the truth, even though death was staring her in the face.

‘You really are delightful. Such expressive eyes. I thought so the first time we met.’ He lifted a shoulder, but kept the weapon steadily aimed at her head. ‘Beautiful women have always been my weakness.’

‘But you’re a doctor. You care about people. Everyone says so.’

‘Indeed I do, and what greater act of mercy than to put an end to their suffering - that futile struggle to survive. I work among it day after day: hopeless; relentless. We put animals down in the same situation out of compassion. When rumours of Narelle’s work reached me, it was like an answer to a prayer.’

‘Corporal Blake and Willow weren’t suffering.’

‘True,’ he acknowledged. ‘But their demise was necessary for the cause. Blake was easily arranged, I treat so many addicts at the clinic; they’ll do anything for their next fix -even stick a knife in an officer of the law. And your heroic Lieutenant was an added bonus: shooting my assassin tided everything up nicely. As for the snooping girl – Willow was it? I didn’t ask her name. She offered herself to me in exchange for stimulants.’ Now his smile spread into a horrible grin. ‘She became one of my human lab-rats. One of my many human experiments. We didn’t need so many, but murder, I discovered, is addictive.’

He was sick; evil. Skye’s fingers tightened on the jammer still in her hand.

‘Narelle must be enjoying saying goodbye to the Lieutenant. But I must hurry her along. Time marches.’ Dr Cahill’s expression became fatherly, which only made his intent more sinister. Moving closer, he raised the phial and flipped open the seal with his thumb.

Skye braced. ‘You’ll have to shoot me, ‘cos no way I’m swallowing that.’

‘As you like.’

They both felt rather than heard it: a series of shuddering reverberations high above them. Royalty Trading’s headquarters igniting, floor by floor. The distraction was enough. With an image of Shiralee’s grieving parents in her mind, Skye hurled the jammer, discus-style, for all she was worth. By more luck than judgement, it caught Dr Cahill square on the temple. The weapon clattered to the ground as he staggered back, clutching his head, and Skye watched a thin trickle of blood ooze between his fingers.

She dived for the gun, but he anticipated her move. Kicked it aside. Aimed another kick at her head. As she rolled away, she felt his leather shoe whizz passed her ear.

He was heavier, and taller than Skye by more than a foot, but she had youth on her side and she’d grown up on the streets. She came up from the ground fast, in a surprise move that rocked him back on his heels. Before he could recover, she slammed her fist into his face. And nearly broke her hand. ‘Ah, shit!’ Staggering back, she fell against the broken remains of a chair and went down for the second time.

Cahill’s eyes darted to the weapon, and Skye knew she was finished. He was nearer. No contest. He’d get to it first.

Her fingers closed around the chair leg. Only two remained attached to the heavy wooden seat. Gripping it like a club, she swung blindly, and heard the sickening crunch as it smashed his right knee-cap. With a high-pitch scream, the doctor crumpled, rolling back and forth, hugging his shattered limb.

Grabbing the GIG-95, Skye raced through what was left of the laboratory.

She heard Narelle almost immediately. There was no mistaking that low, sexy voice. They were in a small room off the main laboratory. ‘Did you really think you’d beat me, Stephen? I was always smarter than you.’

Skye dragged sweating hands down her jeans; crept towards the open door, flattening herself against the wall. She leant forward slightly, peered in. Narelle had a hip on a table; one elegant leg, swinging. Her head was tilted, a thick swatch of hair falling over her shoulder. One hand rested in her lap holding a small plastic box, the other pointed a RAD-XL blaster at Hunter’s heart. He stood six feet away from her, slightly to the left, half blocking Narelle’s body from the open door at his back. Too risky to get a clear shot. Both his two weapons, Skye registered, her heart sinking, were on the table next to Narelle.

Behind her, Skye heard a persistent, rhythmic shuffling getting louder, coming closer. She glanced back, and saw Dr Cahill inching through the debris on his stomach, dragging his useless leg behind him. His agonised, hate-filled eyes locked on hers.

Skye tightened her grip on her weapon.

She turned back to the room. Move to the side Hunter; move a fraction to the side.

‘There,’ Narelle ran her fingers over the object in her hand. ‘The lift doors and stairwell are sealed - bomb tight. They can’t get in, even if they’re clever enough to figure it out. We’re quite alone.’

‘Why Anya, Narelle? Was it jealousy?’ Skye saw the side of his jaw clench, the hands white-knuckle as though they would burst through the skin. ‘You and I were finished a long time before Stella Frontier.’

Cahill’s laboured breathing was audible now: rasping in, grunting out. Objects being tossed aside. Skye forced her attention to stay on the scene inside the room. No choice. She had to be ready.

‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ Narelle rapped out, her mood shifting in a finger snap. ‘You disappoint me. When you threw me over, you threw away your chance of making a difference in the world. You could have been at my side when I replace my brother, yet you chose a foolish, naive girl, and a life of obeying orders.’

‘When did you start being a cold-bloodied killer? Was Anya your first?’

‘As a matter of fact. She stumbled across a report, detailing where our research was leading, and stupidly came to me with her findings.’ Watching Hunter from under her lashes, Narelle twisted the knife. ‘Our experiments in those days were in their infancy; the toxin we extracted from the Cerebra plant was so much less potent than what we’ve created now. It took longer to work and was arguably more painful, but she was dead before the vehicle hit her. We had to make it look like an accident.’

Hunter might as well have been chiselled in stone.

She smiled. ‘And now, sadly, we come to the end of our relationship.’

To Skye’s left, something moved. Two metres away, Dr Cahill hauled himself onto his good leg, bracing himself against the wall. His contorted face was deathly white. Rivers of sweat and blood had gouged channels through the grime on his cheeks. His beautiful suit was filthy and ruined beyond repair. His breath came in short, panting gasps, but the hand that lifted to throw the scalpel was as steady as a rock.

No hesitation.

Skye shot him on full stun.

‘Goodbye, Stephen.’ Bracing two hands on the blaster, Narelle pulled the trigger just as Skye hurled herself through the door.