Выбрать главу

She checked the cylinder and learned by touch that every chamber had a round. She now held the weapon to her breast, hoping Archer had heard the noise she'd made, hoping he would return, throw open the door again. She'd blow his brains out.

She waited, kicked out at some metal shelving to make more noise, and shouted for him by name, but he didn't return. He was on another floor, gone in search of her, hunting her as if she were an animal. But now it was time for her to hunt, to make him sweat.

Cautiously she made her way from the closet. She knew she was close to the lobby, that it was just down the corridor. Was he lying in wait for her there? Expecting her to try to escape the building through the obvious route? She rounded a corner and saw the big glass doors and the darkness beyond. Was he outside, waiting for her? She had her chance now at escape, but should she take it?

Where was the bastard? She didn't want to escape him now. Now she wanted to hunt him down and place a bullet in his brain.

She surmised that he had done one of two things. He had panicked and run with the claw in hand, or he had remained calm and had returned to Frakley's body to plant the claw on him. It would still be his word against hers in a court of law, no matter what. There were no witnesses to his attack and he had Frakley to explain away everything. The bastard was shrewd, and even if his plan had gone awry, he would remain calm. She knew where he could be found, if she moved quickly. She rushed to the elevators, seeing that another car had come to a standstill on the floor where Frakley's body lay dead in her office.

She got into the other car and went hunting. If she killed him, there would be justice. She could prove forensically that he had attacked both Frakley and her, that he had been shot by her when he attacked Dr. Robertson with the hypodermic needle; that he had killed the security guards. She had proven the guilt of Matthew Matisak ten times over, but what justice had come of it? She wanted to blow this bastard away as she had so often dreamed of blowing Matisak away.

This was her chance.

He would see now how it felt to be hunted.

How it felt to be helpless.

To plead for life, to beg, to know you're going to die.

To be like his many victims in their last moments on earth.

She stopped at the floor below and located an office, into which she stepped and turned on the building intercom. She said carefully into the mic, “Archer… Dr. Simon Archer, now I'm coming for you; I intend to kill you for all that you've done. I'm coming for you, Doctor… coming…”

Archer got the message loud and clear where he stood over Frakley's body, securing the claw to the dead man's hand. He looked up and around, fearful that she was watching him this moment. She had somehow armed herself, or otherwise she would have fled into the night. Her voice sounded full of venom and fury.

Knowing the danger to himself now, he made his way back toward the service elevator she had introduced him to. He rushed past some of the same objects he'd seen the first time around, coming to a standstill suddenly in a refrigeration room, where one of the vaults was standing open. Sitting up, its eyeless face staring back at him, was the Emmons cadaver. The ghoulish sight did not frighten him. It was the idea that Coran was watching him so closely. He dove for the floor at the instant a shot rang out, a shot that would have taken off his head.

He crawled along the floor on his belly, making his way toward the service elevator. Where was she? How could he get free? Questions came in a tumult as he crawled animallike to get away. At the elevator a bullet ripped past his ear and into the metal door. He was still bleeding from his earlier shoulder wound.

He ran for the stairwell and disappeared ahead of the gunwoman, who seemed to be toying with him. In the stairwell he hesitated a moment, unsure which way he should run, up or down. He felt like a rat in a maze, and she was making him run in the direction she wanted. She'd like to get him on the roof, force him over the side, watch him catapult to the concrete below. By the same token, she could be waiting for him if he rushed to the bottom. Which way? he asked himself. Then he heard her coming. Heard her cane going tap, tap, tap behind him.?

Twenty-Eight

Jessica thought of how many people had been on this floor only a half hour before, how she had sent J.T. and the others away for much deserved rest while she reviewed each expert finding. Most every area of the lab had shut down and was now in darkness. She stretched out along the floor, dragging herself military fashion along by her elbows, certain that the madman was somewhere nearby, hiding like a frightened animal now, feeling the fear she had long wanted to instill in him.

Leon Helfer would not die in a gas chamber or at the end of a rope, but now she had Archer in Virginia, where the death penalty was in full effect for capital crimes. He had murdered Frakley before her eyes. He had murdered the guard she had found and Robertson could well die. He was still alive, still breathing. She could see his chest swell with his gasps.

She wanted to do what she could for Robertson, but she dare not allow one moment's concentration to be taken off her prey. Archer could turn and strike at any moment.

She kept going, cornering from one cubicle to the next in the labyrinth, wondering from moment to moment when he would strike again, and how.

She tried to calm her own breathing, thinking it so loud that he could monitor her movements by her breaths. When she made it to the next cubicle, she came face-to-face with another pair of eyes in the dark, and books and files suddenly were raining down over her. She lifted the gun, prepared to fire, when she realized the screaming person staring wide-eyed at her was Audrey Robel, a lab assistant she had thought had gone with the others. “Audrey!”

“ Dr. Coran, it's you!”

“ Thank God, you're here. Did you see anyone pass this way?”

“ Heard, but I didn't see. I kept myself out of sight. What's happening, Dr. Coran? Who-who-who's trying to kill us?”

“ You mean, you've been here the whole time and you haven't phoned for help?”

“ I was frozen stiff. When I heard the struggle, saw what was happening.”

She grabbed the younger woman roughly by the arm and pushed her out into the hallway, forcing her to look down at Dr. Robertson. “He may die, Audrey. Get to a phone. Now! Call 911. Get medical help and backup.”

She started away. “Where are you going, Doctor?”

She said nothing, disappearing down the blackened corridor, pursuing Archer. She stopped before the stairwell door where she believed he had gone, taking a deep breath, maintaining her composure as best she could. The hefty weapon in her hand had gone a long way to restore her courage.

She no longer felt helpless. In fact, with her training and expertise, she knew that it was correct for Archer to be afraid now. Somehow she knew that he was aware of just how dangerous she had become. Then she heard the clatter of metal steps inside the stairwell. He was desperate to put as much distance between them as possible.

Still, she must control her hands, stop the trembling. But her every nerve had been struck as if by flint, her entire nervous system hot-wired.

She straightened and arched her backbone, took a deep breath and drew on her FBI training.

She pushed the door wide, sending it thundering against the wall, echoing up and down the stairwell. Archer, wherever he was, went silent. She searched the upward spiral of the stairs and then the down, her cane tapping a metallic warning to him. She could see no sign of him.

“ I hope, you bastard… I hope you went in the direction I wanted you to go,” she shouted, taking the stairs up.

From below, Archer dared stick his head over the rail to look upward; seeing her shadow along one wall, he was mildly struck by the fact that she had regained her cane and seemed perfectly capable of quick forward movement. Acting on adrenaline, he thought. He hesitated in making a decision to follow the shadow or go ahead as planned. He knew time was running from him like a river now, and that he must save himself, survive to catch her another day when her defenses were lowered.