"I heard." The answer came about half a dozen steps away from Blaine's left shoulder. If she squinted, she could just make out the slight shimmer of his position. But with Blaine so close, she didn't dare squint for long.
"I gave you an order, son. Obey it."
"King is not yours to command, General."
The voice came from behind Blaine, but it wasn't King's.
It was Joe's.
Thirteen
Gabriel gripped Mohern's arm tightly as he rushed him through the sterile halls of the SIU. Technically he wasn't a prisoner, so he wasn't cuffed, but Gabriel had a feeling the petty thief had begun to have more than a few second thoughts about "singing like a bird" during the car ride here.
And though it was unlikely he'd get very far away in the monitored and tightly secured halls—not to mention Briggs keeping a close eye on him from behind—Mohern had escaped Sethanon's clutches for many months and therefore had to have more native cunning than what he was currently showing.
They reached one of the interview rooms and Gabriel punched in a code. Then he pressed his hand against the print pad. The machine hummed to life, a blue light sweeping his prints before the door clicked open. He waved Mohern inside then turned to Briggs as she stopped beside him. "Give him coffee and a meal and then take his statement."
"What about my new ID?" Mohern said from the center of the sparsely furnished room.
"That'll be under discussion after you sign the statement."
Gabriel looked back at Briggs. "If he doesn't sign it, keep him here until he does."
"Hey, you can't do that. It's against the law."
Briggs grinned. "We're SIU. A law unto ourselves."
"Great," Mohern muttered, as he sat down.
Gabriel kept his amusement to himself. "Get him to do a photo ID of all the men present at both Wetherton's murder and Kathryn Douglass's."
Briggs nodded. Gabriel turned and headed for the elevator.
His phone rang before he got there. "Assistant Director Stern,"
he said, as he punched the elevator 's call button impatiently.
"Mitchell from Monitoring, sir. We've just received a priority call from an usher at Her Majesty's Theatre. Apparently he did so on Agent Ryan's orders."
Gabriel's gut clenched. He should have known something had happened when she'd hung up so abruptly. And yet, she had to be all right, because he would have sensed anything else. "What did the usher say?"
"That she has a priority one situation and wants a med team and backup. The man she was with has been shot. She's gone after the suspect."
Which under normal circumstances, she could have undoubtedly handled. But given just who Wetherton might have been involved with, as well as who might have wanted him dead, it was better not to take chances.
"Send two teams immediately." He hesitated. "Has she hit the locator?"
"Yes sir." Mitchell paused. "Victoria Street, near Leicester."
"Tell the teams to take control of the situation at Her Majesty's. I'll back up Agent Ryan."
"Yes sir."
The elevator door opened. Gabriel stepped inside and punched the button for the rooftop. The fastest way to get there was by flight.
And he had a growing feeling that he had better get there damn fast.
* * * There was no sense of movement. One minute, the night behind Blaine was empty, and the next Joe was standing there.