She widened her stance, and aimed her gun. "SIU, Orrin. Put your hands on your head and do not move. I'll shoot if you do."
He hesitated. Fear and anger sizzled through the darkness, slamming into her brain. She reeled back into the wall, trying to keep her balance through the sudden dizziness, unsure what was happening but aware the giant was somehow responsible.
Orrin dove for the window. Though tears blurred her vision, she pulled the trigger. Blue-white light sizzled through the darkness and struck the giant's thigh. Orrin yelped, but he somehow managed to climb to his feet and keep on running. She grabbed her viaphone.
"Orrin's on the street, running west."
The dizziness cleared as she ran out of the house. She leapt the front fence and pounded down the street after Orrin. But she was taking three steps to his one and losing ground fast. She'd have to bring him down.
"Orrin, stop, or I'll shoot."
He put his head down, arms pumping as he tried to run faster. She fired a warning shot over his head. It did no good.
She aimed at his legs and fired. The shot took him in the thigh again, and this time it bought him down. The ground shook as he hit. She stopped several feet away. He lurched towards her, trying to grab her feet. She danced away, the laser primed and ready to fire again.
King, Francis, and Briggs joined her. Even then, it took all four of them to handcuff him and get him into the back of the van.
She slammed the door shut and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Take him back to headquarters and get his leg seen to, Briggs. I'll meet you there."
The older woman nodded. Sam watched the van drive away, and then she got out her viaphone and called Gabriel. Still no answer. Uneasiness stirred anew. Something was very, very wrong. She scratched her head, turned and walked back to her car.
For now, there was nothing she could do. If Stephan didn't know where Gabriel was, what hope did she have of finding him?
She headed back to headquarters. After dumping her handbag in her office, she made her way down to the holding cells. Briggs and Francis were waiting in the corridor.
"How is he?"
Briggs shrugged. "He's loud, he's as ugly as sin, and the rudest bastard I've ever met."
She smiled. "I meant his wound."
"To be perfectly honest, I hope it festers and causes his leg to drop off." She turned her face to the side. A bruise darkened her skin, stretching from just below her eye down to her chin. "I'm lucky to escape with just bruising. He knocked King through the front doors. Cut him up pretty badly."
Shit. She glanced at Francis. "You okay?"
The big man smiled. "Yeah. By the time he got to me, security had swarmed. They sedated him and brought him straight down here."
The cell door slid open and the doc stepped out. "The wound is fine. His temper is not, however. I've given him another dose of sedatives and ordered him chained. Under no circumstances are you to undo those chains. Not if you value your life."
"Any prospect of him breaking free?"
The doc hesitated. "Under normal circumstances, I'd say no. But that man is not normal."
Wasn't that the truth. She glanced at Briggs. "You two keep close watch. If he does happen to achieve the impossible, flood the room with the stun lasers."
Briggs frowned. "We'll hit you."
"Better the lasers than man mountain's hands." She headed into the cell.
Orrin glared at her. He had the sort of face only a mother could love. One eye seemed to ride higher than the other, his nose was bulbous and lumpy, reminding her somewhat of cauliflower, and his lips were ragged, flapping loosely whenever he moved. His bald dome shone in the artificial light. A few strands of hair clung just behind his ears, and these, a bright red-gold in color, stuck out like chicken feathers, thick and bristly.
Briggs was right. This was one ugly son-of-a-bitch. She walked around him and checked the restraints. So far, they showed no stress, though Orrin was constantly flexing the muscles along his shoulders and arms, trying to work free.
She walked back to the front and stopped, hands behind her back. "What can you tell me about Rose Pierce?"
He hawked and spat. The yellow mass landed near her left boot. She didn't move. "We know she's responsible for the murder of five people. What we're not sure of is your involvement in those murders."
He made no response, simply continued to glare. His eyes were a muddy brown and full of anger, full of hate. She'd seen that sort of hate before. It wasn't aimed at her in particular, it was just a hate of anyone in a position of power. Government, police, and in particular, the military.