she had nothing on under it, so if he pulled it up too much, this would become a peep show on top of everything else.
“Who made you design the bomb?” she asked Luca softly.
His eyes widened. “How did you—”
Bill and Wayne chose that moment to storm out onto the porch, guns in hand.
Luca cursed and backpedaled toward his car. Bill leapt down the steps and grabbed him in a choke hold. Wayne wrapped an arm around Selene’s waist, hauling her up the steps and shoving Oscar, forcing him back into the house. The instant they were inside, Oscar yanked the other man’s arm off of Selene and pushed her behind him.
“What the fuck are you—”
Bill hauled Luca inside and forced him to his knees. Wayne grabbed his arms, holding them—though Luca wasn’t struggling—and Bill placed zip cuffs around his wrists, binding them behind his back.
“I’m glad you listened and aren’t shooting him,” Selene said.
“He has friends incoming.” Bill jerked his head to the laptop, which was open on a beat-up oak console table near the front door.
Oscar and Selene looked at the camera feeds. Oscar now knew the emotional reality of the phrase “pants-shittingly terrified.”
The thermal image cameras—the ones farthest from the house—showed half a dozen red and yellow shapes, people walking at a crouch, moving toward them. The camera feed switched, and another half dozen figures were approaching from another angle.
“What the fuck?” Oscar snapped, anger so much easier than fear.
“This house is good for protection and defense against a lone assailant,” Wayne said grimly. “If we’d known we would be defending against a military-style assault…”
“Who are they?” Bill demanded as he hauled Luca to his feet.
“I don’t know,” Luca blinked at them.
“You’d better hope you do because you’re now our hostage,” Bill said coolly. “Your life depends on them standing down.”
“They won’t,” Luca said quietly. “Because I do not know them.”
“I think he’s telling the truth,” Selene said.
“Ma’am, he’s a clear and direct—”
“Listen,” Oscar snapped. “You don’t have all the information. We do. He designed the bomb under duress. We knew from the plans that the designer wanted to have a way to stop the bomb.”
Bill blinked. “Like the guy who designed the Death Star?”
“Exactly.”
“Then who are they?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the computer.
As one, they turned to look at Luca. “I truly do not know.”
“Think hard,” Bill snapped.
“Who cares who they are?” Selene asked. “How do we stop them?”
“We’ve called it in and Bennett is making a formal request for a police SWAT unit to support us.”
“Can’t we just call nine-one-one? Would that be faster?” Oscar demanded.
Bill pointed at the computer. “They’re moving like a military unit. Nine-one-one would send a single squad car. and the cops would be dead before they got to us.”
“Who do you work for?” Wayne shook Luca by the shoulder.
“Hey,” Oscar snapped. “Let’s focus on the other bad guys.”
“Our orders—”
“The situation is fluid. Keep up,” Selene interjected.
Oscar grinned. Damn, she was amazing.
“Langston, Dr. Tanaka, you…you found the defect I made?” Luca sounded relieved and maybe a little hopeful.
“Yes.” Selene glanced at Oscar. “I’m putting on clothes.”
“Bring me pants.”
She dashed up the stairs and Oscar went to face down Luca. He looked at the other man, hoping he could see…he wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t the one who was good at reading people. That was Sylvia. He thought he saw…sadness, resignation. The other man looked almost weary.
“What the fuck’s going on, man?”
“I thought I could change the world.”
“With a bomb?”
“With a powerful, renewable energy source.”
“Harness the power of the sun?” Oscar asked, recalling what Selene had said at that now-infamous meeting, which felt like it had happened a lifetime ago instead of only last week.
“Yes. But my personal situation is…” Luca looked away. “Langston, you must understand—”
“Actually, I’m Oscar.”
Luca sputtered. “What?”
“I’m Oscar. Not Langston.”
“Your name is not Langston?”
“I’m Langston’s brother. We’re triplets.”
“Ah, that explains why you seemed so different.” He glanced toward the stairs. “And I’m glad Langston was not cheating on Ms. Edwards.”
This conversation was surreal. Oscar had had enough. “Listen, dipshit—”
“Dipshit…” Luca sounded it out.
“What the fuck is going on? Who made you design the bomb? That’s who is probably coming toward us.”
Selene—who’d thrown on jeans, a hoodie, and tennis shoes—raced down the stairs and threw pants, shoes, and a shirt at him. She nearly got knocked down by Wayne, who raced by securing the house. Heavy metal internal shutters now blocked all the windows, leaving them standing in murky darkness.