“That’s why O’Meara got to the scene so quickly.” Anger boiled inside Dane. “You act like you don’t even care. He was your father.”
“Professor Nick Andrews wasn’t much of a father.” Jillian twisted her features into a dark scowl. “He cared only about his work. Everything else was an afterthought: me, my mother, his country. I ran away when I was sixteen and I’ve been on my own ever since. He’s my only living relative and he never once looked for me. I only returned to my father’s house because I needed his knowledge. The Sons of the Republic are my family now.”
“Some family,” Bones scoffed.
“You don’t know anything about it. It’s my cause. It’s who I am. The rest of the world doesn’t know me and doesn’t care about me. I’m a phantom. I’m the crazy cat lady who moves every time her lease expires, never puts down roots, and spends all her time at the library. I don’t think anyone outside the Sons even knows my name.”
“If you’re such a loner, why did you involve us?” Dane looked into her eyes and wondered how he’d ever found her attractive.
“You came to me, remember? I was going through his things and wasn’t getting anywhere. You’d spoken to Remillard, so you were already ahead of me. Plus, you were a little extra muscle. A meat shield against the other members of my organization.”
Dane considered this. “When those guys came after us out in front of Faneuil Hall, you didn’t recognize them because they had come to the house; you knew them as members of the Sons of the Republic.”
Her predatory grin was all the answer he needed.
“That’s also why you were so eager to let Drinkel go. You were afraid he’d break down and tell the authorities about your little game.” Dane kept a close eye on the Beretta. Jillian held it steady, her finger ready on the trigger. He needed a distraction.
“What’s up with you people” Bones subtly shifted his weight. Dane could tell he was about to do something reckless. “Aren’t you guys on the same side?”
“In the big picture, yes, but those of us who wish to lead are… competitive. Only the strongest survive. I wanted to be the one to deliver the true prophecy. Instead, I’ll be the one who discovered and dealt with the threat it posed. Either way…”
“Either way, you’re a psychotic freak.” Bones leapt toward Jillian, who whirled the gun in his direction.
Dane acted instantly. One of the lanterns still lay at his feet, and he kicked it at her with all his might. He’d played a little soccer as a kid and studied a lot of martial arts over the years, and it flew true — a burning missile hurtling toward her head.
Jillian flinched and pulled the trigger, but Bones moved too quickly for her. The bullet missed him. He rolled into Jillian’s legs and she stumbled, giving Dane the opening he needed.
With a quickness borne of intense training and mind-numbing repetition, he grabbed her wrist in a vise grip, forcing her gun hand up and away from him and Bones. Screaming with impotent rage, she clawed at his face with her free hand and pulled the trigger of her Beretta again and again, sending a harmless fusillade of lead into the ceiling. When her magazine ran dry, she clicked the trigger a few more times, then released the Beretta and began raining punches on Dane’s head and chest. Dane yanked her toward him, spun her about, and pinned her elbows together behind her back.
“Calm down,” he snapped. “I’m not going to hit you, but I won’t let you hit me either.”
Her screams grew louder as she thrashed about. She stamped on his foot, then threw her head back, cracking him across the nose, which still pained him.
“Seriously?” He winced as hot pain lanced through him, but he held on.
A gunshot rang out and Jillian fell silent. Bones had retrieved O’Meara’s weapon and fired a warning shot.
“Enough!” Illuminated by flickering lantern light, Bones loomed over Jillian, looking every inch of his nearly six and-a-half feet. Dane had to admit it made for an imposing sight. “I won’t hit a woman either, but if you don’t chill, I’ll turn you over my knee. And I promise you won’t like it.”
Jillian no longer screamed, but her breath came in gasps and she shook like a palm frond in a hurricane. “You’re going to tell the world about this place, aren’t you?” she panted.
“Of course we are.” Dane couldn’t believe she would want to hide such a thing. “It’s part of our history. People should know the truth.”
“You can’t. Washington is too important. So are the Sons of Liberty. You’ll besmirch their memories. People already lack faith in America. This news would be a terrible blow.” She still trembled, and Dane felt cold sweat trickle down her arms.
Bones brushed her concerns away. “People will just have to get over it.”
“And what are you going to do to me?” Her voice had fallen to a mere whimper.
“We’re going to turn you in to the police. They can’t all be corrupt.” Dane looked at O’Meara’s fallen form.
“I’ll tell them I’m the victim. You brought me down here and O’Meara tried to save me.”
“The bullet that killed him came from the Beretta. You know, the gun that only has your prints on it. Then there’s the gunshot residue, and the testimony of two service men with exemplary records.”
“Well, not quite exemplary,” Bones added.
The last of Jillian’s resistance crumbled. Her legs wobbled and she fell to the floor with a whimper, her sweat-slick arms slipping from Dane’s grasp.
“Got anything we can use to bind her wrists?” Dane asked, looking around.
“Do we really need it? I think she’s played out.” They looked down at the young woman, who sat with her head buried in her hands, sobbing.
“Let’s get her out of here,” Dane said.
Without warning, Jillian lashed out at the one remaining lantern that still burned only feet from her. With a metallic clang and the sound of breaking glass, the room was plunged into darkness. Footsteps echoed through the room as Jillian fled. Chasing the sound of her footfalls, Dane dug the Maglite out of his pocket and flicked it on to see her stumble over a fallen chair.
Dane closed the distance, but Jillian reached the stairs first and hurtled down them.
“Jillian!” he shouted. “Don’t!”
At the foot of the steps, Jillian looked back over her shoulder as she ran, and he saw the panic in her eyes. He could tell she was thinking of nothing but escape.
“The snake!” he cried, but Jillian didn’t seem to hear.
She plunged through the double doors and stepped directly onto the rattlesnake’s head, which sank into the bedrock, causing her to lose her footing. Jillian cried out in surprise as she fell, but her cry turned to a scream of pure terror as a solid block of stone came crashing down on top of her.
The boom of falling stone reverberated through the chamber and the impact rocked the floor. Dane wobbled and felt Bones put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“Is she…” Bones didn’t finish the question.
“Yes. I saw it happen.”
“And now we’re blocked in.”
Dane shone his light all around the chamber, looking for another way out, but all he saw were cracks in the ceiling.
Cracks that hadn’t been there before, radiating out from above the stairwell, and expanding. The first chunk of ceiling came crashing down, exploding at their feet and spraying them in a shower of rock and mortar.
“I think we’ve got another problem.”
CHAPTER 18
The falling ceiling chased Dane and Bones the length of the meeting hall. Their lights bobbed in front of them, slicing through the dusty air. Dane searched frantically for an escape route.