“I’m on Three, guarding the round. Where do you want me?”
Guarding the round?
With a fire burning on Level One below him. God love his dedicated heart. “At the short-stack door. Hurry.” She had to get downstairs, get those sprinklers locked down.
Donald came from around the corner in a dead run. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Can you contact Will?”
“Hadn’t tried.”
“Try.”
He pulled his walkie-talkie. “Will?”
But only static came back. It wasn’t the batteries. It was certain channels.
Maggie shoved her gun into Freeman’s hand. “She’s the enemy.” Maggie pointed to Linda Diel. “If she moves, shoot to kill.”
“Shoot to kill? Linda?” Stark shock registered on his face. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Linda is most definitely the enemy,” Maggie repeated. “Can you shoot her, Donald? I need to know, and I need to know now.”
“She did all this to us.” Anger replaced his shock. “Hell, yes, I can shoot her.”
“Good. You release her only to the FBI. No one else. Got it?”
He nodded, and Maggie turned and ran toward the escalator, then rode and ran down the steps, shoving past people still heading down. Cutting the corner, she headed down from Level Two to Center Court.
“Justin!” She shouted above the screaming, scurrying, push of people cramming the exits and backed up into Center Court. Everything was logjammed—and some were trapped with no way out of the snow. “Justin!”
Hearing her, he swiveled around, searching faces, looking for her. “Maggie?”
“Two o’clock!” she told him, now that he’d honed in on her voice.
He saw her, started toward her.
“It’s in the snow. Tell Darcy, it’s in the snow!”
Justin repeated what she’d told him. She saw it from his lip movements, and heard Darcy confirm it a moment later in a message she delivered over the PA system.
It boomed through the half-empty mall. “Get out of the snow. Everyone immediately get out of the snow and exit the building.”
Maggie wound through throngs of people and met up with Justin. “My earpiece died. No communications. Tell Darcy that Kunz’s primary point person is Linda Diel. I’ve got her handcuffed to a pole up on Level Three. Donald
Freeman is guarding her at gunpoint under orders to shoot to kill. Get the FBI up there. The DR-27 virus is—”
“In the snow!” Justin said, running for the nearest store.
Maggie followed. “Where the hell are you going?”
“Plastic bags,” he answered, speaking not to her but to a startled clerk. “Give me the biggest ones you’ve got, and all the little ones.”
Maggie grabbed them by the armfuls, passing instructions through him to relay. Darcy had visual but audio was out. She needed verifications.
“Kate, Amanda, Mark—keep the water off the snow.
Darcy,” he repeated all Maggie had told him and then added, “did you lock down the sprinklers?”
“There’s a fire,” Darcy said. “I can’t shut them down.”
“Can’t Will manually lock them down?” Justin asked.
“Water breaks the capsules and releases the virus, Darcy.
We’ve got to stop any water from hitting that pit.”
Darcy relayed to Maggie through Justin. “Barone’s key is lost and someone stole Will’s.”
“It wasn’t on Linda,” Maggie said. “Consider the keys gone and go to backup protocol. Darcy, shut off all the water to the facility.”
Justin shifted a huge load of plastic bags to his left arm, pulled out his earpiece and stuck it in Maggie’s ear. “I’ve got to get these shields on the kids in the pit.” He ran with the bags out of the store and into Center Court.
Carrying more, Maggie headed for the other side, telling everyone she saw to get out of the building. People were panicked. Shoving. Screaming. Crying. Dropping packages and dragging bellowing, terrified kids.
“Maggie, the main shutoff is outside and only the water department—”
“Get them on it, then,” Maggie interrupted Darcy. “Now.” She looked down the corridor toward Men’s Row. The smoke was gathering, growing thick. The sprinklers could go on at any time. Guessing, they had five to seven minutes. “Talk to the fire department, too. Maybe they have emergency access.”
“Will do.”
Maggie tripped over a fallen woman well into her sixties. She bent to help her up, then told her to leave right away.
“But I need to exchange—”
“The damn building’s on fire,” Maggie said, losing it. “Get out!”
“Well, all right, then.” The woman left in a huff, swinging her handbag and muttering.
Maggie found Justin down on his knees, showing a small group how to fashion waterproof vests out of the bags. She dumped the extra bags at his feet.
She straightened and pulled a quick visual assessment. People poured out through the exit, but there were so many more yet to go. “Darcy, run that directive to have people exit away from Center Court nonstop, until the stampede thins out, and then get some medical staff outside the other exits to check those injured coming out.”
A man was swinging his cane, clearing a path. Justin spotted him, had words with him, and the guy took a swing at him. Catching the cane midair, Justin snatched it and tossed it up onto the empty stage.
About twenty people went down like a row of domi
noes. He and Mark headed in that direction to help get folks moving again.
Maggie looked at the sprinkler heads above her, at the wall of smoke pushing toward Center Court. Thank God the fire was still small. It would activate the sprinklers—she checked her watch—in less than five minutes. Five minutes, and there were still thousands to get out of the building. The fire and water departments were working on cutting water to the building, but if they didn’t make it…
“Justin,” Maggie called. “We’ve got to stop the sprinklers.” She pointed to the heads circling the pit.
Justin looked down the thoroughfare, estimated when the sprinklers would engage. “We’ve got less than three minutes. No one can shut down the water main before they engage. We need a miracle.”
The pit was empty on the back end. The front end was jammed with an overflow of people trying to get out through the exit. Spotting the Happy Holidays banner, Maggie yanked it down. “Grab that end of the sign, Justin.”
He caught on to what she was doing. “Amanda, Kate, Mark, get the other banners. Tarp the people on this side of the exit. The pit, too, if we can extend that far.”
Justin and Maggie stretched the banner above the heads of those trying to get out the door. Those farthest away were making vests of the plastic bags, using the small bags to cover their shoes. Justin’s idea had caught on and now the panicked people waiting to get out were fashioning their own vests and shoe covers, taking action. Special Forces members darted in and out of the stores; rounding up more bags and helping those farthest from the exits get covered.
The smoke inched closer and closer. It was at Macy’s, creeping into the far edges of Center Court. A minute at most and it would cover them.
Maggie gave Justin the earpiece back and then grabbed a food court chair, positioned it on the far right of the exit and stepped up on it. Justin did the same on the left side of the exit doors, and they held the plastic banner stretched above the shoppers’ heads. “Go, go, go.” Maggie rushed the people out. Covering the pit wouldn’t prevent the problems. The shoppers had snow clinging to their clothes. They were contaminated. “Go, go, go!” She looked down. The smoke was curling at her feet. “Oh, God, hurry!”
People poured out of the building. Shoved, trying to get under the tarp. They had no idea why it was important, but reacting to the panic, they innately knew that being under its cover was critical to them.
“Justin,” Maggie shouted across to him. “Tell Darcy to get the HAZMAT crews working outside to decontaminate them as they come out.”
He nodded, then relayed, paused and then shouted back to Maggie. “They’re working it, Maggie.”
Good. Good.
Amanda and Mark stretched a second banner behind the first, copied Justin and Maggie, extending the tarp further back, into the pit.
And Kate and Will stretched a third behind the second.
“Justin, what about the sprinklers?”
“Will couldn’t override the system, that’s why he’s now with Kate. If he had shut the system down without the key, all the sprinklers throughout the entire facility would have
engaged. It’s an added safety measure. Fire and water departments are working it from the water main outside.”
God, they were going to be too late. And there was still a third of the people in the pit that weren’t under tarps.
In the crush of people getting out, several teams of Special Forces broke ranks, picking up on what Maggie and the others were doing. In short order, they ripped down more of the huge plastic banners and filled in behind Kate and Will.
The smoke thickened, crept up to Maggie’s waist in roiling whirls. At least they didn’t have to worry about flames reaching the people. But the smoke was choking some farthest from the exit.
Her arms aching, her shoulders throbbing, she looked back. The entire pit was covered by tarps. Everyone was under the flags. A knot of gratitude and relief swelled in her throat. Her nose tingled, her eyes burned and tears blurred her vision.
The sprinkler heads came to life.
Water sprayed down, splattering on the marble in the thoroughfares, misting the outer edges of the tarps.
“Get away from the edges!” Maggie shouted. “Get away from the edges!”
The crowd began to chant it to each other and the warning worked its way through them as they huddled toward the center, still pouring out the exit doors.
Panic seized the shoppers. Frantic, they started to stampede, trying to get outside. More Special Forces members lined the way, directed and kept them from trampling anyone and further choking up the exits. Firemen and police intercepted the shoppers on the other side of the doors,
shuffled them to the medical staff set up in huge numbers in the parking lot. Once injected with antidote, HAZMAT team members put the shoppers through decontamination chambers.
Maggie watched it all happening above the heads of those exiting through the glass doors. She scanned hungrily, anxiously, praying that no one would die, that the water and fire departments would shut off the water at the main soon, that the makeshift flag-tarps would hold until the last person was out. If the water touched the snow, melted it, the encapsulated DR-27 virus would be released and the two-minute window for administering antidote would trigger.
The mist was gathering at the edges of the tarp.
Fifteen seconds later Darcy sounded the extreme-hazard alarm.
It blared through the mall, piercing ears, setting them to aching. Panic tripled. Shoppers shoved at each other, at the exit door, screaming, swearing, pushing, punching, crying, keening, and Maggie stood helpless. All she could do was stand with her aching arms extended, the smoke burning her eyes, holding the flag above their heads.
And then the sprinklers suddenly stopped.
“Water department got to the main,” Kate shouted.
A tear slid down onto Maggie’s cheek. She and Justin locked gazes through the smoky haze and smiled.
C
haos finally gave way to order.
The fire was out and Santa Bella stood empty of shoppers and nearly all its employees.
For the past hour, security staff and Maggie’s team had been verifying stores empty and locking them down with the heavy steel grates that served as doors and sealed them from the mall’s common areas.
Maggie appropriated a new earpiece and was back up running communications. Additional HAZMAT teams had been called in and were working inside, decontaminating the mall, hauling snow out of the pit in sealed biohazard boxes. Phil and Harry Jensen were dazed by their part in Kunz’s capabilities demonstration and giving statements to FBI agents. It was clear within the first five minutes of interrogations that neither of the owners had a clue what
they had on their hands, or that the valve Maggie had found in the elevator had been replaced by a crew member working for Kunz with one designed to release the encapsulated virus only at the appointed time into the already frozen snow. Darcy ran a comparison check between the snow crew members and nonattributed intel file photos, and came up with a match, moving yet another man from the Persons of Interest list to the Known GRID Operatives list. That greatly enhanced their odds of catching him, and greatly hampered his ability to move freely inside the U.S. or to cross its border.
Colonel Drake had driven down from Regret and was running interference, keeping the press focused on the locals, specifically working through the Providence police department’s Information Officer, and keeping all mentions of any S.A.S.S. member out of the media.
“Maggie? Justin?” Colonel Drake paged them. “Meet me at the food court.”
They walked over and saw her waiting for them at a table near the Wee Bit O’ Pub entrance.
“Have a seat.” She dropped onto a chair and waited for Maggie and Justin to sit. When they had, she began. “Keeping that fire hose in the secret room out of Linda Diel’s hands and the waterproof canopy with those flags prevented a major disaster here tonight.”
“I’m just glad I saw her,” Maggie said.
“Me, too,” the colonel agreed. “HAZMAT’s verified what you’d already told us, Justin, that the mist getting on the shoppers, who had any snow whatsoever clinging to their clothes, would have released the virus.”
He nodded.
“We were lucky the DR-27 wasn’t disbursed until just before closing. I just wanted to make sure you knew it hadn’t been, and you two doing your jobs so well saved a lot of lives.”
“It took a lot of people doing a lot right to prevent this disaster.” Justin wasn’t playing at being modest; he was being honest and blunt.
“That’s right, Colonel.”
“True. But even with all those right things, when crunch time came, it was the absence of that hose and the presence of those tarps that prevented a tragedy and an epidemic.”
Seeing a flash of movement, Maggie swerved her glance. Two men and a woman wearing FBI jackets were leading Linda Diel out in handcuffs. Donald Freeman was walking three paces behind them. Maggie smiled at him and he saluted her. “Diel intended to take me to Kunz,” Maggie said.
“I heard.” Colonel Drake shuddered. “I’m glad we avoided that.”
“We all are,” Justin said.
“He’s got Judy Meyer,” Maggie said. “He has a romantic interest in her. She was apparently working with Linda—and has been for the entire year Kunz has been planning this operation. That’s according to Linda. She says Kunz was at Santa Bella a year ago, and that’s when he and Judy got close. I doubt the real Barone knows anything about anything.”
Colonel Drake dragged a hand through her hair. “I was in on most of the operation, but we’ve got a gap—when you went into the short-stack after Diel and your communications equipment went down. Are you up for debriefing?”
“Sure,” Maggie said, then launched into it.
Justin added his comments, they answered Colonel Drake’s questions, and then Maggie disclosed her supposition on the yellow jackets with the handled shopping bags. “I think their purpose was twofold. To enter the mall as decoys to divert our attention from the snow machine, and to remove the antidote from the premises, which Kunz obviously hoped would go unnoticed by leaving the empty boxes. The missing antidote vials might have gone unnoticed, if Justin hadn’t been positively anal about checking up on them every few minutes.” She smiled at him to let him know that his being anal on this was a very good thing and she was grateful for it.
The queries and answers went back and forth for another half hour and then the briefing was done.
“Maggie, you did a hell of a job under very difficult circumstances.” Colonel Drake’s pride shone in her eyes. “It’s dawn now, and you’ve been going full-out for two days straight, Darcy tells me, without even power naps.” A small chastisement laced with concern thread through the colonel’s voice. “Overt forces—local authorities and FBI—can take it all from here.” She looked back and forth between Maggie and Justin. “I want you both to go home, rest and have a wonderful Christmas.”
Christmas. It was Christmas. And while Cynthia Pratt’s family and friends mourned, a nation had been spared. “Merry Christmas, Colonel.” Maggie stood, seeking solace in that, but finding little. Those who loved Cindy were grieving. And grief and loss, Maggie Holt understood too well to minimize.
Justin stood, too, a light stubble shadowing his chin.
“Merry Christmas, Colonel.” He extended his hand. “It’s been a privilege.”
“All mine, Dr. Crowe,” she said, shaking warmly. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Maggie and Justin walked outside together, then wound through knots of people and around the decontamination equipment area to the section of parking lot where Maggie had left her Jeep. She glanced up at the sky, at the tinges of pink and lavender streaking all the way to the horizon. “Merry Christmas, Justin,” Maggie said, feeling as if tons of weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
He eased his arm around her, pulled her close and dipped his head until his lips brushed against hers. “Merry Christmas, Maggie,” he whispered against her mouth, then kissed her soundly.
When he parted their mouths, he almost smiled, and swept her hair back from her face. “Magical.”
“Yeah.” She smiled up at him.
They got into the Jeep and she cranked the engine. “How can I be dead on my feet but still feel wired for sound?”
“Adrenaline’s still pumping.” Justin clamped his seat belt. “How about some breakfast before the sleepfest?”
“Sounds good to me.” The sleepfest was hours away, at least, hours away. She just couldn’t change gears and drop off high alert any more quickly. “What’s open on Christmas?”
“I don’t know. Let’s ride until we find something.”
Maggie eased the car into reverse, backed out, then took off. “Don’t you have plans for today with someone?”
“Um, actually, no, I don’t. I’m on my own.”
“Me, too.” She said it and felt that inescapable sadness that came on every holiday she spent alone while everyone else spent it surrounded by family.
“I hate being on my own on Christmas. Let’s be on our own together,” he suggested.
Maggie chuckled and looked over at him. Charming. Totally. Her feelings for him had changed so much since she’d first seen him in the S.A.S.S. bunker at Regret. He wasn’t the man she’d thought, and the man she’d seen him to be intrigued her. Infinitely pleased, she adjusted her rearview mirror and bit a smile from her lips.
On Highway 98, she spotted a shiny aluminum diner. “Lights are on. They must be open.”
“Two cars in the lot,” he said. “Appears they are.”
Maggie whipped into the parking lot, gathered her keys and purse and they went in. It was warm and dry and friendly inside, pleasant and, thankfully, quiet.
Maggie slid into a booth on the outside wall and Justin sat across from her. A waitress in pink and white and a ponytail that hit her mid-back walked over with plastic-coated menus and a coffeepot.
“Merry Christmas.” She filled their cups, cracking her chewing gum.
They repeated it back to her and took the menus she extended to them.
“I’m going to be really bad,” Justin warned her. “Double stack of pancakes, strawberries, sausage and the biggest glass of orange juice you have.”
Maggie laughed. “I’m going to have to roll you out of here.”
“Probably.” He grinned.
“I’ll have two eggs over easy, bacon, grits and blueberries. Oh, and whole wheat toast. And juice.”
She jotted down their orders on a little thick pad. “There was a big ruckus going on down at the mall all night,” she said, passing along the latest gossip.
“Really?”
The waitress nodded again. “Some shopper got bored, waiting in line, and started a fire. They had to evacuate everybody. I heard all the stuff in the whole place got wrecked.” The gum cracked. “Smoke damage.”
“Goodness,” Maggie said. “Guess we should turn on the news now and then, right, honey?” She looked at Justin.
“I guess we should.” His eyes twinkled.
“Food’ll be out in just a minute.” The waitress went to the kitchen, turned their order in. “Hey, Frankie. Order’s in.”
In a few minutes the food arrived. Smelling it had Maggie’s stomach growling and her mouth watering.
They ate and chatted through half their meal, about everything, about nothing, starting the mental and emotional transition of coming out of crisis.
Justin poured more syrup on his pancakes. “May I ask you something, Maggie?”
“Sure.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, then took a bite of blueberries.
“Well.” The look in his eyes warmed. “Actually, I guess it’s a comment I want to make more than a question I want to ask.”
“Go ahead. But remember, it’s been a long two days and I’m a little punchy and short-fused.”
“You’re armed, too.” He smiled. “Maybe I’d better wait until another time.” Justin set down his fork, looked at her
over the edge of his chilled water glass as he took a drink, then set it down. “What the hell? What’s life without risks?”
“Safe.”
“Ah, yes, but you miss so many opportunities. Some that are so rare you never have a second chance. They’re lost forever.” The ice clinked against the sides of the glass. “There will be another time, right?” His voice, both hopeful and uncertain, wasn’t quite steady.
Her heart rocketed into overdrive and her own hopefulness and uncertainty surfaced. “You mean, for us to get together on a personal basis?”
“Yes, I do.” He dragged his thumb down his glass, leaving a streak on it. “I’m going to leave myself wide open here and hope I don’t regret it.” He dragged his teeth over his lip. “Hell, I can’t regret it. It’s honest.”
How did she feel about that? She had no idea what to think about an opening like that, much less any idea what to feel.
He reached across the table, lifted her fingers and placed his under them, then curled his fingertips around hers. “The truth is that there’s something about you that just does it for me. The way you look, the way you talk, the way you say what you think even when it’s not politically correct or it’d be easier on you to just say nothing at all. Even the way you eat—just watching you, makes me feel good.”
“The way I eat?”
He nodded. “You eat all of your eggs before touching your toast. All of your toast before touching your berries. You eat the outside of a sandwich, all the crust on the bread, before you eat the center of it. And when you eat a
slice of pie, you start at the point and eat your way to the crust. It fascinates me to watch you eat. It appeals to me, Maggie. Everything about you speaks directly to me—” he touched his free hand to his chest “—and something so deep inside me I don’t even know where it is, or what it is, answers.” The look in his eyes turned tender. “I knew it the first time I saw you, and I feel it every time I see you. You do it for me, Maggie. All of it. Everything.”
Humbled, awed, honored and stunned, she couldn’t find the words to share all she was feeling. Her emotions were in riot, tumbling one on the other, and a joy so sweet and unexpected welled in her chest. The back of her eyes burned, her nose tingled and she blinked hard to not let a tear fall. “Justin, you awe me. You…awe me.” Never, not in her wildest dreams, had she believed for a second that a man would come into her life and feel about her as Justin clearly did. Never, not in her most secret fantasies, did she dare to dream for even a sliver of all he had shared.
The confusion about him disappeared and her feelings suddenly seemed so clear. The past, their histories, were insignificant. They were no longer the people they had been then. Experience had changed them. They were wiser now about their own parts in creating the challenges of their pasts, and because of that, they were more aware, more invested in creating their futures. Better futures.
“Will there be other times for us, Maggie?” he asked again.
She brought his hand to her lips, kissed his fingertips. “Absolutely.”
He smiled, then turned serious. “I know you have concerns.”
She’d had concerns. Looking at him, she didn’t have
them any longer. Still, she would like to understand the past so she could finally put it to bed and move on with her life without thinking of it again. Yet she couldn’t ask and be delicate, wasn’t sure she even should be delicate. “Justin, I’m not judging you now, but I need to understand.”
“You want to know why men cheat?”
She nodded. “Can you answer that for me?”
“I swore that after the divorce from Andrea was final, I’d never speak of this again. But for you, I’ll try, Maggie.” He paused and thought a moment, then went on. “I can’t answer for all men, but I can and will answer for myself.” Justin stopped, gathered his thoughts and then finally continued. “It wasn’t deliberate, or something I went out with the intention to do. Things between Andrea and I were really good until she got mixed up in that garden club.” He took a drink of juice, as if washing a bitter taste of out his mouth. “Going there changed her. She got darker and, well, ‘kinky’ is the only way to describe it. Sexually, I mean.” He gave himself a little shake. “This is totally embarrassing.”