"I can't. I have to go in."
"You haven't slept in twenty-four hours."
"I'm okay," she answered as she sat up. "Almost better than okay. I needed this more than sleep – really, Roarke. And if you think you're going to force a tranq down my throat, think again."
She rolled off him and up. "I need to keep moving. If there's any down time, I'll catch a nap at the crib at Central."
She glanced around for a robe, took his. "I need a favor."
"Now would be an excellent time to ask for one."
She glanced over, grinned. He looked sleek and satisfied. "I bet. Anyway, I don't want Zeke stuck at the station the way he has been, but I need to keep him under wraps awhile longer."
"Send him here."
"Ah… if I took one of your vehicles in, I could leave mine here. Working on it would give him something to do."
Roarke turned his head. Eyed her. "Do you plan to be involved in any wrecks or explosions today?"
"You never know."
"Take anything but the 3X-2000. I've only driven it once."
She made some comment about men and their toys, but he was feeling mellow and let it pass.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dear Comrade,
We are Cassandra.
We are loyal.
We are sure you've been watching the bleeding liberal media puppets report on the incidents in New York City. It sickens us to listen to their sobbing, their wailing. While we are nothing but amused by their condemnation of the destruction of their pathetic symbols of the blindly opportunistic society that now holds this country under its rigid thumb, we are angry at their one-dimensional and predictable stand on the issues.
Where is their faith? Where is their comprehension?
They still don't see, still don't understand what we are and what we will mean to them.
Tonight we struck with the fury of the gods. Tonight we watched the scrambling rats. But this is nothing, nothing to what we will do.
Our adversary, the woman that fate and circumstance deemed we face down for our mission, has proven difficult. She is skilled and strong, but we would be satisfied with no less. It is true that through her, we have lost a certain monetary payment, which we understand you had hoped to secure quickly. Do not concern yourself with this matter. Our finances are very solvent, and we will bleed this heedless city to its bones before we are finished.
You must trust that we will finish what he began. You must not falter in your faith and your commitment to the cause. Soon, very soon, the most precious symbol of their corrupt and weeping nation will fall. It is all but done.
When this is accomplished, they will pay.
We will see you, face to face, within forty-eight hours. The necessary papers are in order. This next battle to be waged and won in this place, we will complete personally. He would have expected this. He would have demanded it.
Prepare for the next stage, dear comrade. For we will be with you soon to drink to the one who set us on this path. To celebrate our victory and to set the stage for our new republic.
We are Cassandra.
– =O=-***-=O=-
Peabody strode toward the conference room. She'd just left Zeke and was feeling a little shaky over the conversation they'd had with their parents over the 'link. Both of them had put the pressure on for their parents to stay out west, though each had separate reasons.
Zeke couldn't stand the thought of them seeing him under the current circumstances. He wasn't in a cell, but it was close.
Peabody was determined to clear her brother and put him back on the path of his life in her own way.
But her mother had struggled not to cry, and her father had looked dazed and helpless. She wasn't going to get the image of their faces out of her head any time soon.
Work was the remedy, she decided. Unearthing that lying, murdering bitch Clarissa. Then snapping her skinny neck like a twig.
It was with violence brewing under her starched uniform that she walked into the room and saw McNab.
Oh hell, was all she could think, and she marched straight over for coffee. "You're early."
"I figured you'd be." He'd also figured out what he intended to do, and he took the first step by going over and closing the door. "You're not kicking me out of your way without an explanation."
"I don't need to explain anything to you. We wanted to have sex, we had it. Done and over. The lab reports come up?"
"I say it's not done and over." It should be, he knew it should be. But he'd been thinking about that square, serious face and amazingly lush body for days. Weeks. Jesus, maybe months. He'd damn well say when it was done and over.
"I've got more important things on my mind than your ego, McNab." She took a deliberate sip of coffee. "Like my semiannual dentist appointment."
"Why don't you save up your lame insults until you have a better selection? They don't work. I've had you under me."
And over him, she thought. Around and through. "Had's the operative word. Past tense."
"Why?"
"Because that's how it is."
He stepped closer, pulled the cup out of her hand, slammed it down. "Why?"
Her heart began to pound. Damn it, she wasn't supposed to feel anything. "Because that's the way I want it."
"Why?"
"Because if I hadn't been rolling around with you, I'd have been with Zeke. If I'd been with him, I wouldn't have just told my parents my lieutenant is trying to clear him on murder charges."
"That's not your fault. It's not mine." Her breath had begun to hitch, unnerving him. He was mortally afraid she might cry. "It's on the Bransons. And Dallas isn't going to let him take the heat from it. Get a hold here, Dee."
"I should've been with him! I should've been with him, not you."
"You were with me." He took her arms, gave her a quick, surprising shake. "You can't change that. And I want you with me again. Damn it, Dee, I'm not done."
He was kissing her, with all the helpless rage and lust and confusion that roared through him. She made some little sound, a sound caught between despair and relief. And was kissing him with all the vivid fury and need and bafflement that pumped inside her.
Eve walked in, stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh, jeez."
They were too busy trying to swallow each other to hear her.
"Man." She pressed her fingers to her eyes, half hoping they'd disappear before she lowered them. No such luck. "Break it up." She jammed her hands in her pockets and tried to ignore the inarguable fact that McNab's hands were clamped on her aide's ass. "I said break it up!"
The shout got through. They leaped apart as if someone had snapped a spring between them. McNab hit a chair, knocked it over, then stared at Eve as if he'd never seen her before.
"Oh. Whoa."
"Clamp it shut," Eve warned him. "Not a word out of you. Sit down, shut up. Peabody, damn it to hell and back again. Why don't I have my coffee?"
"Coffee." Eyes dazed, blood screaming, Peabody blinked. "Coffee?"
"Now." Eve pointed to the AutoChef, then made a show of looking at her wrist unit. "You are now on duty. Anything that happened here before this mark was on your own time. Is that clear?"
"Uh-huh, you bet. Listen, Lieutenant – "
"Zip it, McNab," she ordered him. "I don't want any discussion, any explanations, any verbal pictures drawn of activities pursued on your own time."
"Your coffee, sir." Peabody set it down, shot McNab a look of dire warning.
"Lab reports?"
"I'll check on them now." Relieved, Peabody hurried to a chair.
Feeney came in. The bags under his eyes were in danger of drooping past his nose. Seeing him, Peabody got up again, ordered more coffee.
He sat, nodded absently in thanks. "The emergency teams managed to clear down to the site of the last explosion, Malloy's last known location." He cleared his throat, lifted his cup, drank. "The shield appeared to be in place, but the blast took it out. They said it would have been over quick."
No one spoke for a moment; then Eve got to her feet. "Lieutenant Malloy was a good cop. That's the best I can say about anybody. She died doing her job and trying to give her men time to reach safety. It's our job to find the people responsible for her death and take them down."