Close Your Eyes: A Novel Part 42

"Jeff?"

She fell to her knees beside him. His clothes were ripped to shreds.

He was ripped to shreds.

That surgeon's scalpel in the other room ...

"Jeff, it's Kendra. Tell me how I can-" He couldn't tell her anything. There was duct tape over his mouth.

She tore it off.

"Kendra..."

She pulled the tape from his wrists and gently slid her arms around him. "I thought you were dead."

"Close." He reached up and touched her cheek. "Beautiful ... always so beautiful. Inside ... and out. I never told you that, did I?"

"No." She turned her head and kissed his fingers. Her voice was shaking. "Because you're an honest man, and I'm not beautiful. It's going to be okay, Jeff. I'm here. I'll take care of you. Can you walk?"

"I'll try. I'll do anything ... you want me to do." He leaned forward, then fell back against the wall. "I'm sorry. I can't do it. Too weak. Get out of here, Kendra."

"Shut up. I won't leave you."

"They'll be back. They always come back. Laird would have been here now except he's been loading the plane."

"Let them come. I'll make them wish they'd never been born," she said fiercely. "Who did it?"

"You must know, or you wouldn't be here."

"Schuyler?"

"And Denton. He was the one who offered his scalpel. He knew a lot about how to ... hurt. When they took out my eye, he told them how to do it so it wouldn't kill me."

"Your eye." Her eyes strained in the dimness to look at his face. She felt like throwing up as she saw the gaping hole where his right eye had been. "Why? Why would they do that?"

"You always told me I was stubborn. They ... thought so, too."

"Dear G.o.d, Jeff."

"Get out of here."

"I can't leave you. I'll get Lynch, and we'll carry you out of here."

"Adam Lynch ... He's here?"

"We've been looking for you." Her voice was anguished. "I wish we'd found you sooner. Why did they do this to you?"

"They wanted the disc. Denton stole the disc with all the information about the Pegasus Project from the Homeland Security files. It wasn't only his work but the compilation of ... several other scientists. He couldn't reproduce it alone, and they needed the disc to ... seal the deal with Iran."

"And you had it?"

"Stephanie Marsh stole it and gave it to me. She was Denton's a.s.sistant. She found out what-they were doing and couldn't stomach it. They killed her."

"Yes."

"She died because she tried to do something ... right for the world. How could I give that d.a.m.n disc to them?"

Jeff would find it impossible even at this horrendous cost. Justice was the creed he lived by. How many times had she told him that he was obsessed? She had been part of that obsession but without that bright true light that had burned within him. "No, I can see how you would be ... stubborn." Tears were running down her cheeks. "But you can stop now. We're going to get you out of here." She started to get up. "I'm going to go get Lynch. I'll be right back, and we'll-"

"Kendra Michaels?" The man standing in the doorway was smiling at her, but there was a Glock pistol in his hand. "Oh, don't go away. I've been looking forward to our first and last encounter. You've been a thorn in my flesh since you came on the scene."

She had seen a photo of that olive skin, thick dark hair, and powerful body only hours earlier today. "You're Charles Schuyler." She drew a shaky breath. "You son of a b.i.t.c.h. You did this to Jeff?"

"I was only a partic.i.p.ant. It was a joint project. That disc is important to both Denton and me. However, it seems we'll have to do without it. I debated whether to take him with us on the plane, but I decided that some men just can't be broken. We did try, didn't we, Stedler?"

"Go to h.e.l.l," Jeff said.

"You see?" Schuyler said. "I would have given up a long time ago if Denton hadn't been so determined. I have enough money to survive and live the good life in Oriental splendor. The Iranians will have to be satisfied with the finished weapon. They can have their own scientists work on reproducing it."

"Then why didn't you tell them to stop? Why did you do this to him?"

He shrugged. "He didn't matter, and it was a way to control Denton." He checked his watch. "Who should be here within a few minutes?" A door opened and slammed. "I believe that's him. Always punctual."

Kendra had been trying to figure how she was to get to the gun in her jacket without alerting Schuyler. Denton might be a distraction.

But where was Lynch? Kendra wondered. He must have heard that door open. Stay away, Lynch. Don't be gathered into the net.

Denton was suddenly bursting into the cubicle. "You changed your mind, Schuyler? You're going to take care of him for me. It's only right when you-" He stopped in shock as he saw Kendra. "Who is she? What is she doing here?"

"Dr. Kendra Michaels, Denton. Surely you remember our discussing her?"

"She's with the FBI. Get rid of her, and let's get out of here."

"I believe we have a little time. My information is that she works with a single agent from the Justice Department. He's probably around somewhere and will have to be taken care of. But you're right, we should definitely start the ball rolling."

He lifted the Glock. "It's been an interesting a.s.sociation, Denton. Good-bye."

And shot him in the forehead.

Schuyler watched dispa.s.sionately as the doctor fell to the floor. "He looks shocked, doesn't he? Denton was always so sure that he was more brilliant than anyone else in the universe. You'd think he would have seen it coming. I was through with him. Why should I let him live?" He turned to Jeff Stedler. "That should have made you happy. He was the enemy, and now he's dead."

"You're all the enemy," Jeff said. "But you're dirtier than the others, Schuyler. You're sc.u.m."

"And you're now officially a dead man." He lifted the gun again, then suddenly swiveled it to point at Kendra. "No, I think we'll take out the b.i.t.c.h first. One final torture for you, Stedler."

"No!" Jeff threw himself in front of Kendra.

Panic raced through her as she tried to push him away and pull the gun out of her jacket. "Jeff, don't do-" Then she felt Jeff's body jerk as the bullet tore through him. "Oh, G.o.d. No."

"Yes," Schuyler said. "Now let's take care of-"

"Roll into the shadows, Kendra. Now!" Lynch's voice. Lynch at the door behind Schuyler. Lynch's bullet striking Schuyler in the shoulder and spinning him away from the door.

But Schuyler was turning, shooting, and Lynch was falling against the wall.

Kendra had her Beretta out. "Drop the weapon, Schuyler. You're not going-"

"b.i.t.c.h." Schuyler gave her a malevolent glance and fired over his shoulder as he ran out of the compartment. The bullet plowed into the wall next to Kendra's head.

Lynch was struggling to get to his feet. Blood was running down his cheek from a surface wound on his temple. "Are you all right?"

"Am I all right? You're the one who almost got his head blown off." She crawled back across the room to Jeff. "He's hurt. I have to help-" She looked at Lynch over her shoulder. "Go get that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Don't let him get on that plane and go off to Al Qaeda paradise. I want him dead and on his way to h.e.l.l."

Lynch turned away and was heading for the door. "Call Griffin and tell him to get help to take down that plane if it gets airborne."

He was gone.

Was Jeff gone, too?

There was no time to call Griffin. Not with Jeff lying there wounded, maybe dying.

She was holding that poor, tortured body in her arms, her hand frantically searching to find his wound. "You have to live, Jeff. You've fought them so hard. You did such a good job. But now you have to beat them."

Her fingers touched blood pouring from a wound in his chest. "I'm going to lay you down and apply pressure to stop the wound." Her voice was uneven. "Hold on, Jeff. You can't let them win."

"Don't-lay me down. Keep holding me. It's not going to matter." He reached up and touched her lips with his fingers. "And I've already won. Lynch won't ... let them get away. And I have you here to make things right. Have-to tell you ... I always loved you. You have to know that, Kendra. It's just that things got in the way-they seemed-more important."

"Hush, you did what you had to do. I should have helped you."

"You came into my life." His voice was fading. "That-helped me. Hold me tighter."

Her arms tightened around him. "Don't you die on me, Jeff." Her voice broke. "We can make this work. Just don't leave me. Life can be good."

"Life was-always good with you. You made me better than I ever-could have been alone." His eyes were closing. "Every day was a ... World Series, and I was the MVP who hit the home run to win ... the game. Remember that, Kendra." His breathing was shallow. "Home run..."

His head fell against her arm. His breathing had stopped.

Dead.

He was dead.

"Dammit." Tears were flowing down her cheeks as she rocked him in her arms. Her friend, her lover, the man who had led her down paths both painful and full of joy. This shouldn't have happened. A good man should not have been torn apart and had his life taken away. There should have been something she could do.

And now there was still nothing she could do except sit there, holding him.

Close your eyes.

This time to say good-bye and pray for the soul of her beloved friend.

THE HUGE DOORS FLEW OPEN, flooding light into the dimness of the warehouse.

Kendra, jarred, quickly straightened away from Jeff. She reached for her gun.

Three shots echoed through the warehouse.

A low cry, then silence.

Kendra carefully put Jeff down and got to her knees.

"Kendra? Are you there? It's Sienna."

Relief surged through her. "Here, Sienna." She got to her feet. "To your right aisle from the door. Who's with you?"

"Santini and Brockman." Kendra could hear Sienna's swift footsteps crossing the warehouse. "But they're running out to the plane to intercept Schuyler. I told them I'd see if I could locate you. G.o.d, I was so worried when we saw Oscar Laird go into this warehouse. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I didn't even see Laird."

"He came running from the plane. You won't see him alive again. He pulled a gun, and Santini shot him." Sienna stopped in shock at the doorway of the compartment, her gaze on Denton's crumpled body. "What the h.e.l.l happened here?"

"Denton. Schuyler just killed him." Her gaze went down to Jeff on the floor at her feet. "And Jeff."

"Jeff Stedler?" Sienna moved toward him, going into combat medic mode, tearing off her jacket. "Are you sure? I can try to administer-"

"No, he's dead." Kendra drew a long shaky breath. "I'm very sure."

Sienna looked at Jeff's body for a long moment. "I'm sorry, Kendra," she said quietly. "I only met him a few times, but everyone said he was a good man. The best. I know how upset you must be."

"Yes." Her lips tightened with anger. "You could say that I'm upset. But that's an indulgence I can't afford right now. Jeff's dead. I can't just sit here and mourn him. Lynch is out there somewhere trying to do something, trying to stop Schuyler. I have to go help him."

"Right." Sienna nodded, her gaze on Jeff. "Poor guy, they really worked him over. Why?"

"They wanted information. He didn't give it to them."

"Good for him. He must have been brave as h.e.l.l. Did he tell you all about it?"

Kendra shook her head, and said unsteadily, "Those last moments weren't about anything but what we were together." She moved toward the compartment doorway. "But I have to put that aside. Come on. Santini and Brockman may not be enough help for Lynch."

"I'm with you there." Sienna was keeping pace with Kendra as she half ran down the corridor past the compartments that led toward the door at the loading docks. "Santini is always sure that I have more medical than practical know-how. It's time I showed him that I have both, dammit." She threw open the huge double doors. "The plane is still there, but the cargo bay is closed."

Kendra had stopped to look at the body of Oscar Laird, who was lying next to the door. His eyes were staring up at the ceiling, and his mouth was open in a silent scream. Three b.l.o.o.d.y holes gaped in his chest.

"Kendra."

"I'm coming." She turned away and moved toward the door where Sienna stood. She stood staring out at the blazing hot tarmac, simmering in the midafternoon heat.

She stiffened, her gaze narrowing. But she was no longer seeing the concrete tarmac or the jet.