“I tried to stop her,” Karin whispered.
Father Francis stepped toward her. “You tried to stop who?”
She frowned. He didn’t know. If God was talking to him, he would know her mother killed Father Michael because Karin went to confess everything and beg for forgiveness. Karin confessed not because she felt bad for the people she hurt, but because she was in love with Father Michael. She wanted to share everything with him. If he forgave her, she’d try to stop for him. For his love.
She’d never loved anyone else.
She shook her head. “No. No, no, NO!”
She raised the gun. The lights went out at the same time she pressed the trigger.
Chaos.
Jack had no time to fear for Padre when he heard the gunshot. The lights went out as J.T reached one in his countdown and they both flipped down their tactical night vision monoculars. Everything Jack saw was in crystal clear shades of green. J.T.’s equipment was state-of-the art and could ultimately save Megan’s life.
Jack quickly moved through the back of the cabin and directly to the table where Megan was restrained. He turned the table to shield her body away from where Karin stood. The suspect was partly obscured by the door and a bookshelf. She stood there, staring outside.
You’d damn well better be okay, Frank.
Megan’s entire body was violently shaking and he immediately thought she was going into shock. She was practically naked, her skin ice cold to the touch and soaking wet. The floor was slick with water as well. Several thin needles protruded from her bruised and bloody body. Jack had to force overwhelming emotions of rage and fear down deep; reacting would put Megan’s life at greater risk. He silently motioned to J.T., who nodded his acknowledgment. While Jack cut off the wrist and ankle restraints, J.T. carefully removed the needles. They couldn’t extract her until he was done, but they didn’t want to risk permanent damage, or death.
Jack whispered in Megan’s ear, “It’s okay. It’s Jack.” He didn’t think she heard him; she didn’t seem to be aware of anything happening around her.
Matt Elliott was moving around the interior perimeter to get into position to take Karin down.
Ten seconds had passed since the lights went out.
Movement from Karin’s side of the room accompanied the loud slam of the front door shutting. Jack stepped in front of Megan and pulled his weapon while J.T. finished removing the needles.
Karin stepped into the main room. She looked stunned, blinded by the dark. A.357 revolver was in her hand, the muzzle still facing out. Jack had a clear shot.
Megan cried out, then bit it back on a sob.
Jack saw the moment when Karin’s night vision cleared. She saw their silhouettes and movement.
“She’s mine!” Karin said and pressed the trigger.
Jack fired simultaneously, and heard the report of a rifle from his left-Elliott-and from above-the sniper- competing with his own rounds. His breath was knocked out of him as Karin’s bullet hit him dead center in the middle of his chest, stopped by the Kevlar vest he wore. He stumbled back, shook it off, watched Karin’s body jerk as each bullet fired hit her. The sniper’s round took off half her head, her brains hitting the wall behind her. She crumbled to the floor.
J.T. shouted at Jack, “Are you hit?”
“I’m okay.”
Jack turned back to Megan while Matt inspected Karin’s body and kicked her gun away, then reported through the radio.
“Target dead. All clear.”
A shout from the back of “Lights!” had the three soldiers removing their night vision eyes.
Megan’s injuries looked far worse in normal light. She was dangerously cold, her lips blue, and her skin so pale she looked translucent. Smears of blood covered her body. Jack and J.T. inspected her for any serious external wounds. None of the cuts were still bleeding and they all appeared superficial. But there was nothing superficial about the pain Megan had suffered.
Jack pulled a thermal blanket from his pack and wrapped her in it, then picked her up and held her. “It’s me, Megan. I’m right here. You’re safe.”
Matt approached, his face tight and grim. “How is she?”
“Alive.”
That was all that mattered. They would overcome what happened tonight because Megan was alive, and they were together. He wasn’t letting her go.
“The medics will be here in two minutes,” Matt said. They’d been waiting a half-mile down the road.
Matt touched Megan’s wet hair and cold skin. “What did Standler do to her?” he asked, his voice hard.
J.T. said, “Ice water. Needles. We need more blankets.”
Both J.T. and Matt removed their thermal blankets and Jack wrapped those around Megan as well. “Come on, Blondie, talk to me.”
She didn’t open her eyes. Her body was still shaking uncontrollably.
“She doesn’t know we’re here,” J.T. said, his tone clipped with restrained worry. He glanced at Matt with concern.
“Jack.” Megan’s voice came out a faint, hoarse rasp.
“I got you.” He held her tight against his chest.
She didn’t say anything else, and Jack felt her entire body relax against him and grow heavy. She’d passed out again. He had to get her to a hospital. He didn’t know what else Standler had done to her …
Padre.
Jack carried Megan out of the cabin, side-stepping Karin Standler’s bloody body without a glance. The ambulance approached, the red twirling beams casting odd swaths of light against the breaking dawn. A generator roared to life and lights came on around the periphery.
Padre lay in the dirt fifteen yards from the front door. Dillon was there working on him. Jack ran over and squatted, still holding Megan tight against his chest.
“Dammit, Frank! You promised you wouldn’t get shot.”
“I’m okay.”
“She missed the damn vest,” Jack said.
Dillon was holding a field dressing hard against Padre’s left upper arm, where the shoulder met the bicep. The dressing was already soaked red. Blood had spread under him, soaking into the earth. “He’s lost a lot of blood,” Dillon said.
“We have the same blood type. I’ll give in the ambulance.”
“He’ll need it.”
“I’m okay,” Padre said again. “Megan?”
“Alive.”
“Is she okay?” His voice was weak, his breathing labored. J.T. strode over to the medics to push them to move faster than they already were.
“She will be.” Jack had to believe it, even as she lay unconscious in his arms.
“And Karin Standler?”
“Dead.”
“The plan worked,” Padre said, closing his eyes.
“Not well enough. Don’t you dare die on me, Frank.”
A half-smile crossed Padre’s lips, but he didn’t say anything. When the medics rushed up to them, he was unconscious, too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Megan sat in the hospital room feeling like an old woman. Sore and so bruised she could hardly move, she was finally being released. Six days was five days too long to stay in a hospital.
The door opened and she thought it was Jack; instead, it was Hans.
She hadn’t seen him since her first night in the hospital. Jack told her he’d flown back to Quantico the next morning. She’d been pretty much out of it.
“Megan.”
“Hi.”
“I heard you’re being released.”
“Finally.” She tried smiling, but faltered. Hans wasn’t the same man she’d begun this investigation with.
“You’re looking better.”
“Better is kind of relative.” She’d lost too much weight, had had borderline hypothermia, and then a severe fever from infection. She didn’t feel like her old self, but she had turned the corner. She was going home. Jack was flying her back to Sacramento today. He hadn’t left her room except to check on Padre.
Hans sat next to her on the bed.
Several minutes passed before Hans said, “I owe you an apology.”