#Prettyboy Must Die

“But this kid, isn’t he some kind of agent?” Andrews says, which makes Katie turn to me and ask, You’re a what? with her eyebrows. At least, that’s what I think she’s saying. Eyebrows are hard to read.

He slams his fist on the nearest desk, shattering the thick glass that was meant to protect the wood beneath it. Okay, Junior is really strong.

“I think Marchuk can handle situation. Do as instructed.”

“Yes, sir,” Andrews says.

“But first, if team two is even three seconds late with next checkin, please kill them. No, wait. We can’t afford to lose two men. We already have one who has not reported in. Only kill one of them. To make point.”

“Which one?”

Marchuk throws his hands in the air and looks at Andrews as though she asked him for the answer to world peace. “Does not matter which one. Just do it.”

I assume team two is still tied up and unconscious in Ms. Flagler’s bio lab, which means Duncan’s a sitting duck. The digital clock on the wall facing me reads 01:44:17. I don’t know how I’m possibly going to get Duncan out of this jam in forty-three seconds, but I have to try.

“Team two is probably on a smoke break,” I say, before Andrews can leave the office. “One of them is a chain-smoker.”

“How do you know this? Team two says you were not in classroom when they arrived. But perhaps you returned and made sure they would not be able to check in. It would explain your clothes.”

01:44:39

Oh man. Marchuk just read me like a book. I hope he can’t also read the panic I’m feeling right now. Play it cool, Jake.

“You think I don’t keep fatigues in my locker for just such an occasion? And I’ve been moving all over this building since ‘they arrived’ and I saw one of them taking a smoke break, more than once, even if he didn’t see me.”

01:44:52

“I think you would be happy having us down to four, no? Why do you care so much about this?” Marchuk asks.

I don’t have an answer for him.

01:44:57

Andrews’s radio comes to life. A heavy New York accent says, “All quiet on the western front.”

Oh no. That means the hostiles must have come to. I never liked Duncan, but I also never wanted this for him. I can only hope they gave him some of what Katie and I got, and stopped at that.

“Ah, so he will live another day. Just as well. Really could not afford to lose one more, but my anger gets best of me and Marchuk does not always think straight,” he says, adding a chuckle as though he’s talking among friends, before he yells at Andrews to go do what she was told.

I’m trying to figure out which man is down. Obviously, the two in the chem lab are awake. Hold on a minute. That punch must have really messed me up. They can’t be, or they’d have already told Marchuk about what Bunker and I did, unless they were too afraid to let Marchuk know they’d been taken down by two high-school kids. Even if they left that part out, wouldn’t they have at least warned them there were two of us on the loose? For all they know, Bunker’s a CIA operative, too.

“Now, let’s get to business, shall we? You killed my father. This makes me very angry.”

I’ve just seen his “angry.” Don’t need any more of that, so I try to diffuse it.

“I didn’t kill your father.”

“Your people did. I was loading truck, saw whole thing from across compound. Father raised his weapon first. He meant to take offensive.” Marchuk pauses for a second like he’s trying to collect his thoughts as he remembers that day. Maybe he isn’t 100% monster. “But you were there, inside house. For some reason, he liked you. He only hesitated in firing first because of you.”

He turns his back to us for a moment before whirling around again, a whole different expression on his face.

“So, now you die. Only question is how,” he says, rubbing his hands together like a B-movie villain before placing a duffel bag on the desk. “Marchuk has many tools for job.”

So not only am I about to die, it’s going to be a horrible way to go. And if that isn’t enough to think about, now I smell smoke.

“Wait, does it smell like something’s burning?” I ask.

“Is that best stall tactic you have?” Marchuk asks. “CIA training is not so good as I thought.”

“CIA?” Katie says, this time with words. “You’re a CIA operative?”

“I’m serious,” I say to Marchuk, ignoring her question. “I smell smoke.”

Or is it tar? Whatever it is reminds me of the smell when they’re paving a road. No, it smells more like a fireplace. It seems a weird thing to worry about when I’m about to be tortured, but I actually do smell smoke. In a locked-down building filled with hundreds of people. Unfortunately, neither Katie nor Marchuk seem worried about it.

“I will enjoy killing you same way you killed my father, and making girlfriend watch.”

I believe it. I don’t remind him that I didn’t actually kill his father. At this point, it doesn’t seem relevant, and I’m more concerned about what he has in store for Katie. I wish I could at least grab her hand, but all I can do is lean as close as I can to her. When I do, instead of strawberries and cream, I get a whiff of fireplace.

“It’ll be all right, Katie, I promise. Try not to worry,” I tell her. “Look, Marchuk, I’m more valuable to you alive than … not alive.”

“You are of no value to me in any state. But why would you think so?”

“I know that hacker you hired last spring caused all your problems when she allowed me access to your client list.” Marchuk doesn’t say anything, but I can tell he’s listening, so I keep going. “And I know for damn sure I’m better at this game. Clearly, the CIA thinks so. You’d get a twofer with me—best hack in the business, and an operative trained by the best in the world.”

Marchuk paces a couple of times before he asks, “And you would turn your back on CIA? Why?”

“To save all these people. They haven’t done anything to you.”

“Did I say I was going to kill them? No. I said I would kill you. They are just incentive to keep you in line, but now I have you. You do this to save yourself,” Marchuk says, all up in my face. Or more like sprays, and I can’t even wipe my face because my hands are tied. Then he smiles and adds, “Ah, yes. You offer this to save girl too, no?”

“Does it matter why I’m offering?” I say, as tough as I can for a guy with his arms tied behind his back. “It’s a good offer and you know it.”

“Perhaps. But I also know you are wrong about two things. One, SBU—not CIA—is best in world.” He smiles all sinister before he says the next thing. “Two, hacker may not be as good as you, but offers me much more than you can.”

“Marchuk, if you—”

I don’t get to finish pleading with him because he lands his fist against my jaw.

“Also, it does not matter, because you killed my father. So, on to killing. It will be bad for him, pretty girl, but Marchuk is gentleman. Once I tire of you, your death will be quick. Don’t worry.”

I hear Katie sigh before she says, “I swear to God, if another man tells me not to worry—”

It’s the last thing I hear before the room is suddenly filled with smoke.





CHAPTER 20

At first, I’m disoriented from the smoke and probable concussion. Then my senses are assaulted all at once: I hear the click of a switchblade springing open; I feel the sawing motion as the rope that binds me to the chair is cut; I smell tar, smoke, and just a hint of strawberries and cream. By the time I shake off the cut ropes and escape my chair, I see Katie bringing down Marchuk with a brutal kick to his junk. I hate Marchuk, but I can’t help but feel for him.

At least until she hooks her foot around his ankle, sweeps his legs out from under him, then straddles his back. I’m certain it’s an image I won’t soon forget—girl of my dreams on top of the guy who wants to kill me.

“Uh, need some help there, Katie?”

“Yes. Hand me my purse, please. It’s on that desk behind you.”

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