"Swing the chair around," he told Munoz.
Once Mills faced the pool, Daniel released his forearm and leaned close to Mills' right ear.
"I can't kill you because you appear to be the only one left that can identify the convoy. Tell me where it's headed, and my team will leave your family unharmed."
"I can't dishonor the people who sacrificed for our cause. I won't."
"That's a lofty thing to hear from someone living in a 15,000-square-foot lakeside mansion. I think you're full of shit, so I'm going to help you understand the true meaning of the word sacrifice. You get to pick which one of these courageous ladies pays the ultimate price for the cause you're defending."
"You fucking psychopath! My family has nothing to do with this!"
Daniel slapped him and screamed back. "They have everything to do with this! Your suicide bomb shattered dozens of families!"
"What is he talking about, Owen?" Sue Ellen yelled hysterically.
"They had to be sacrificed for America," Mills said.
"You're pretty big on sacrificing the people dedicated to your cause. Hacker Valley, the laboratory staff, Benjamin Young. Am I missing anyone?"
Daniel turned to the family standing beside the pool. "Stand them up straight!"
"Daniel, maybe we should just focus on Mills," Fayed said quietly.
"I'm done with fuckers like this. Sitting back sipping scotch while his expendables make history. I need to make sure none of his DNA leaves the estate," Daniel said, pointing his rifle at the two daughters.
The girls screamed, and Sue Ellen Mills nearly fell into the pool trying to escape Munoz's grasp to get between Daniel's rifle and her children. He was starting to feel really lightheaded and could barely raise the rifle with his left arm.
"We need to get you some medical attention," Fayed whispered. "You’re starting to worry me."
Daniel cleared the haziness. He was going to finish this right here, right now. He wasn't sure why this was taking him so long.
"I'm fine. Mills, by the count of three, or I get to choose," he said.
"I can't do that," Mills screeched.
"Do what? Pick which one we shoot, or tell me where the convoy is headed?"
"I can't do either," he sobbed.
"Honey, just tell them what they want to know. Please!" his wife pleaded.
Daniel engaged the safety on his rifle and threw it to the stone patio behind him. He removed his pistol from a concealed belt holster and aimed it to the left of Sue Ellen's head. He had no intention of shooting her, but he was losing control of the situation. He was also starting to feel short of breath, which he knew was a symptom of progressive blood loss. He wouldn't be able to stand for very long. Maybe he wasn't getting enough oxygen to his brain to make these decisions. He didn't know. All he cared about was extracting the information and getting back to his life with Jessica.
For a brief moment, he lined the pistol's sights up on Sue Ellen's face. Maybe shooting her in the face would get Mills to reveal the convoy's destination. He didn't want to do that, but his finger added pressure to the trigger. He became tunnel focused on her and no longer heard the kids screaming and crying. Mills' pleading faded as he moved the trigger closer to its eight-pound pressure release. He could no longer guarantee that he wouldn't shoot her. Munoz's face appeared in the pistol's sight picture.
"Danny, you don't have to do this. Fayed can handle it," Munoz said.
Jeffrey Munoz had placed himself between Mills' wife and the barrel of the gun. Daniel squinted and realized that he needed to let this go. Munoz had stood in formation next to Daniel on their first day at Sanderson's experimental training camp in Colorado. He was one of the few surviving members of the original Black Flag program, and one of the few people that truly understood how Daniel's mind worked. Now he owed Munoz another favor. He lowered the pistol and turned to Fayed.
"He's all yours. Melendez, secure the family comfortably in the house."
"Thank you. Thank you," Mills muttered.
Fayed patted Daniel on the shoulder and approached Mills. Daniel stared out at the lake, shaking from the realization that he had been pulled back from the edge of the darkest hole he had ever seen. If Munoz hadn't intervened, he would have worked his way down the line until Mills started talking. He might not have stopped at that point. Jessica would have never forgiven him for executing children. He wished he could blame what almost happened on the blood loss, but he knew better.
Sanderson had awoken a menacing darkness deep inside of him. He'd drawn on its energy to survive his undercover assignment in Serbia, but it came with a price. It would never go dormant again, and it was always there, faintly whispering to him. Today it had risen up and screamed at him. Fayed stood behind Mills and placed his hands on the man's shoulders, pressing downward. He leaned down and spoke loudly enough to jar Daniel back into the moment.
"Don't thank him yet. Here's how it works. If you don't tell me the convoy's destination right now, I'm going to march you naked into the kitchen and sit you down on the front burner of that beautiful, stainless-steel Viking stove. Then, I'll turn the oven to broil and stuff your legs inside, jamming them in place with the door. We'll spend the next ten minutes testing the front burner settings, while broiling the flesh off your feet. I'm not kidding about this."
Mills looked horrified and gasped for breath.
"What is the convoy's final target?" Daniel said.
Deflated and scared, he blubbered, "The Capitol Building. I…uh…donated several million dollars to the right campaigns and called in the favor. Three semi-trucks with Arrowhead Water logos delivered the bottles fifty minutes ago. Restaurant Associates accepted the shipment. They handle the Capitol Building's dining and concessions. Can I see my family now?"
Daniel nodded to Fayed, who removed his hands from Mills' shoulders. Owen Mills stood on shaky legs, taking a few steps forward. He avoided eye contact, taking a path around Daniel that brought him close to the pool's edge. Daniel raised his pistol and fired two bullets into the CEO of Crystal Source, knocking him into the pool. He landed on his back, with his arms extended sideways. A crimson geyser exploded upward from the pool as his body disappeared underneath the dark water. He didn't wait to see if the body resurfaced. The dark whispering went silent for now.
"He deserved a lot worse," Fayed said.
"I agree, but we don't have the time. The feds will show up at any second, and I had no intention of losing any of these guys to an army of lawyers. Grab Tariq's gear. Berg's guy took a serious risk getting this gear to us. We roll in thirty seconds," Daniel said.
"I'll meet the team out front," he said and started removing Tariq's vest.
"Should we bring him along? I hate to leave him here, scattered among these criminals," Daniel said.
"Tariq's corpse is the last thing we need to be hauling around in a car. Sanderson can straighten this out with the FBI," Fayed said.
"Speak of the devil," Daniel said.
He removed a satellite phone from one of the magazine pouches and answered the call.
"Good timing. We just finished cocktails."
"Don't fuck with me right now. I can never tell if you're fucking with me. Did you get the information?"
"Still on the run?"
"Daniel, I need to make a few very important phone calls. Important to you and important to me. Cut the shit for once," Sanderson said.
Daniel could tell from the sound quality that he was on the road. For some reason, the image of Sanderson fleeing in a gypsy caravan made him happy.
"The Capitol Building. Delivered fifty minutes ago by three semi-trailers with Arrowhead logos. Tariq is dead."