He clicked the safety off. "I mean it, Lyssa. Drop it."
"Ah, but if I do, we're both dead," she said, her amusement more evident this time. "It's a grenade, and the pin is out. It'll cause enough damage by itself, but in a kitchen flooded with gas — " She shrugged.
The kitchen would go up like a rocket, and Kazdan would have his diversion. He motioned toward the stove. "Turn the jets off and step away."
"As I said, I don't think so." She ducked, moving away with a speed that surprised him. White light flared, followed by the flash of a laser. While he had no idea where the weapon had come from, he was mighty glad it was a laser — it was the one weapon that wasn't likely to ignite the gas. The bright light whizzed past his head and bit into the wall behind him, showering him with concrete dust. She'd missed by several feet — maybe she couldn't see too well in the dark.
She scrambled around several benches. He waited, his laser aimed toward the main doors. Except for the vent and the emergency exit to his right, it was the only way out. When she reached the bench closest to the door, she stood and fired several shots, then raced for the exit.
She never had a hope. He fired. The laser's blue-white light cut silently across the darkness, and arrowed into her back. She gasped, her arms flung wide, but her hand was still clutched around the grenade as she was thrown to the tiles. He pressed the audio button as he ran towards her. "Get the medics down here."
"Show me her face," Stephan said tightly.
Obviously, he feared it was Lyssa who lay dying, but Gabriel felt no rancor at his brother's disbelief. If the situation had been reversed, he'd be asking the same thing.
She was gasping for breath, still struggling to move. He removed the laser and the grenade from her slack grip, noting that the pin on the grenade hadn't been pulled. He put them on the bench, well out of her reach, and squatted beside her.
"Don't move," he said gently. "The medics are on their way."
She gaze swung towards him. Her features were in the midst of change, Lyssa's features fading into that of the dark haired women he'd met only a few hours before. Kazdan's wife, as Sam had said.
"Tell him I'm sorry," she gasped. "I didn't want him to die ... He was good ... to me..."
Surprise rippled through him. He had no doubt that she meant Stephan, and he wondered if Kazdan knew his wife had fallen in love with the man she was supposed to kill. "So it was you who sent the warning to the SIU?"
She licked her lips. "I didn't want to be responsible for all those deaths, no matter what he said."
"You'd better leave the bitch," Stephan stated into his ear, his voice deadpan and tightly controlled, "and head over to the Control Center. Ryan hit the alarm button about a minute ago. I sent two State boys over, but we've since lost contact with them all."
Gabriel swore and headed for the exit.
* * * *
Sam shifted her weight from one leg to the other, trying to ease the ache in her feet. She needed something, anything, to happen; otherwise she was in serious danger of falling asleep. She glanced at her watch. Three-o-five. The PM was obviously running behind schedule. Why couldn't a politician actually do something right and keep on schedule just this once?She stifled a yawn and checked the forty-four for the umpteenth time. It wasn't a weapon she'd normally use. She didn't like the feel of it, nor did she like the kickback. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers. Security operation or not, no one was standing ready with an arsenal of weapons. They'd taken what had been available, and Gabriel had taken the only laser weapon.
She put the magnum back in its holster and wondered what he was up to. He was supposed to contact her when he'd reached the elevator mechanic's room. So far, her wristcom had been worryingly silent. Maybe there were problems, though she'd heard no noise, no sound of gunfire.
Shifting her weight to her other leg again, she wondered how Jack planned to get into the port. Security was locked down tight. No one was getting in or out without the proper ID. Still, if the Wetherton clone was on Jack's side, maybe getting ID wasn't a problem. Ministers could get such things, even a minister on the way out.
Sound whispered across the silence. She cocked her head, listening intently. After a few moments, she heard it again — the creak of a metal step. Someone was walking up the stairs
The lights went out. She squatted and pressed back into the corner. Another faint creak whispered through the darkness. Carefully, she drew her gun, clicked off the safety, and held it in a two handed grip, aiming for the top step.
Down below, someone breathed. She could hear the whisper of his breath, sighing in and out of his lungs. Could almost hear the beating of his heart, a steady vibration far slower than her own.
When had her senses become so acute?
The landing immediately below creaked. She tensed and waited. So, too, did the man below her. His breathing was a short, sharp sound that spoke of fear. After a minute, he continued towards her. She tensed, her finger tightening fractionally on the trigger.
A head appeared — brown hair, brown skin. No one she knew. Metal glinted in his left hand.
"Police," she said "Drop your weapon and put your hands up,"
He jumped. Then, almost as if in slow motion, she saw his fingers tighten around his gun, saw the brief flash of white sear the darkness, and the ripple through the air as the bullet came at her. She rolled to one side, and then half rose and fired. The retort shuddered through her arms, the sound of the shot a cannon that rebounded through the silence.
The impact threw him back down the stairs. She rose, walked over to the railing, and carefully peered over. The stranger lay on the landing below and he wasn't moving.
But someone else was.