The Collected Part 42

One down.

Nate continued to listen as the second prisoner and then the third were put back in their rooms.

When the door to the third cell shut, he clicked his radio once. Be ready.

The fourth cell opened. Ja.n.u.s and one of the guards took the last prisoner inside.

Click-click.

As soon as the message was sent, he stepped out to where he could be seen. "Hey, I hear you're looking for me."

__________.

QUINN COUNTED OFF five seconds after the double click before he pulled the door open as quietly as he could.

"...looking for me."

As expected, the three guards in the hallway had all turned in Nate's direction and were not paying attention to the door. Quinn, Orlando, and Daeng moved inside and spread out.

The guards, all eyes still on their escaped prisoner, began unslinging their rifles.

Quinn's target was the farthest guard, Orlando's the middle, Daeng's the nearest. Within a second and a half, they each pulled their triggers. Like dominos, all three guards fell to the ground, dead.

The open cell was the one nearest Quinn and the others. The guard who'd been inside stepped out to see what was going on. A bullet to the forehead from Quinn's gun sent him cras.h.i.+ng back inside.

Nate jogged down the hall, stopping fifteen feet on the other side of the open door. "Ja.n.u.s! Come out!"

A scuffling of feet, then nothing.

"Ja.n.u.s!" Nate yelled again. "Give it up. Come on out. This is done."

"Nothing is done. I think you will let me go."

"You think wrong."

A laugh, then Ja.n.u.s appeared in the doorway. But he wasn't alone. He had Peter in his arms, and was holding him high enough to protect his own head and chest.

Peter grimaced. "Just shoot him."

Ja.n.u.s peeked around Peter at Nate. "Well, Quinn, you are pretty good. You bring help?"

"Put him down," Nate said.

"Go over with your friends or I break his neck. You know I can."

"I don't care if you hit me," Peter said. "Shoot him!"

No one pulled the trigger. Peter was-if not quite a friend-someone who'd been an important part of their lives for a long time. They weren't about to shoot at him if they could help it.

Quinn motioned for his old apprentice to join them. As soon as Nate did, Ja.n.u.s eased out of the room, turning to keep Peter between them and him at all times.

Quinn searched for a shot, anything that might disable Ja.n.u.s and allow them to get Peter free, but Peter was unintentionally doing a pretty d.a.m.n good job of s.h.i.+elding the other man. Quinn might be able to shoot Ja.n.u.s in the foot, but it was iffy at best.

Ja.n.u.s started backing down the hallway in the direction Nate had been hiding. Nate took a step forward to follow.

"Don't," Ja.n.u.s said. "I will kill him."

"Kill him and we'll kill you," Nate said.

"Peter here will still be dead, and I might still get away."

Ja.n.u.s took another step back. This time Nate didn't move.

"Good boy," Ja.n.u.s said, not stopping.

"Shoot him!" Peter yelled.

Ja.n.u.s momentarily freed up a hand and punched the former head of the Office in the face. There were no more outbursts.

"What's going on?" Lanier called from his cell.

"Yeah," Berkeley said. "What's happening out there? Are you here to get us out?"

"Everyone shut up," Quinn said.

"Come on, man," Berkeley said. "What's going on?"

"What's going on is that we're going to leave you here if you say another word."

Ja.n.u.s had reached the turn in the hall. "Don't follow me," he ordered, and then disappeared.

Quinn and Nate immediately ran after him. As they neared the corner, they heard a grunt and a thud. Then running feet, heavy and fast.

They sprinted the rest of the way to the end, and whipped around the corner, their guns ready.

Peter lay motionless on the ground about halfway between the corner and the far door, but Ja.n.u.s was gone. They raced over and knelt down. Quinn checked Peter's pulse.

"He's alive," he said.

Nate glanced at the hallway beyond them. "Ja.n.u.s can get to the top of the wall that way. If he does, he'll warn everyone. That could be a problem." He stood up. "I'm going after him."

"I'll be right behind you."

With a nod, Nate took off.

Quinn put Peter over his shoulder in a fireman's hold, lugged him back to the others, and transferred him to Daeng's shoulder.

"Get the others out," he said. "Take everyone to the room downstairs and lock yourselves in. Nate and I are on cleanup."

"You two can't do it alone," Orlando said.

"If we need help, I'll let you know." He took off down the hall.

__________.

NATE KNEW THERE was no way he would catch Ja.n.u.s in time. The son of a b.i.t.c.h had too much of a head start, but he had to try.

He grabbed the wall just before he reached the stairs so he could propel himself around the corner and up. The around-the-corner part worked. The up, not so much.

Ja.n.u.s was standing three steps above him, waiting. Nate smashed into the man's chest and fell back onto the ground, his gun skittering off to the side.

The welts on his back screamed again, but he ignored them.

Ja.n.u.s jumped down, his feet heading straight for Nate's ribs. As Nate rolled to the side, Ja.n.u.s kicked out in an attempt to change direction, but Nate slammed his elbow back, hitting the big man in the calf.

Ja.n.u.s toppled over, his arm slamming the stone floor with a giant thwack. As the big man lay there, momentarily stunned, Nate popped up onto his feet and scanned the ground for his gun. He tensed when he finally spotted it five feet to Ja.n.u.s's right. All Ja.n.u.s had to do was turn his head to see it, then reach out and grab the barrel.

"Get up!" he yelled at his former tormentor, egging him on. "What are you, scared of me?"

Focus returned to Ja.n.u.s's face. His gaze narrowed, and he pushed himself up. "You big problem."

Nate moved to his right. "Yeah, I am."

Countering him, Ja.n.u.s went left. Perfect.

"I take care of problems," Ja.n.u.s said. "That is my specialty."

"Well, you haven't taken care of this problem yet, have you?"

"No. But I am not done yet."

The gun was only a few feet behind Nate now. If Ja.n.u.s had seen it, there had been no indication.

"I don't know. You seem kind of done to me."

Ja.n.u.s smiled. "You try to provoke. I provoke not so easy."

Nate took a half step backward. "It was worth a try, wasn't it?"

"Trying is for the weak. I never try. I do."

"I don't believe that's how the quote goes," Nate said as he slid back a little more.

"What?"

"Yoda."

"Huh?"

Nate's foot touched the end of the barrel. "Never mind."

What he really needed was for Ja.n.u.s to take a swing at him, so he could duck down and grab the gun without being obvious. If Ja.n.u.s knew what he was doing, he could put a stop to it before Nate would be able to get the muzzle trained on him.

"You problem. But now I make you not."

Nate urged him forward with a Bruce Lee-style wave of his fingers.

Instead of taking a swing at him, though, Ja.n.u.s charged, roaring. Nate dropped anyway, one hand hugging his chest to his knees, while the other searched for the gun. As his fingertips touched the suppressor, Ja.n.u.s's ma.s.sive thigh whacked into his shoulder.

Nate tumbled onto his side, the gun under him and digging into his ribcage. Ja.n.u.s stumbled over him, then twisted back around and lashed out with his foot. His instep connected with the rear of Nate's skull, sending a shockwave of blinding pain through Nate's head.

"What's going on down here?" The voice came from behind them somewhere.

Nate forced his eyes open. A soldier was standing near the base of the stairs. Nate guessed he was one of the watchmen from the wall.

"Help me with him," Ja.n.u.s said.

"Yes, sir," the man said.

The moment Ja.n.u.s looked toward the other man, Nate wrapped his hand around the grip of the gun and yanked it out from under him. The soldier was the first in his sights. He pulled the trigger and his bullet hit center ma.s.s, neutralizing Ja.n.u.s's would-be helper.

Ja.n.u.s twisted around and tried to grab the gun from him, turning Nate's hand back and forth, but Nate wouldn't let go. When the barrel started arcing toward Ja.n.u.s, Nate let off another shot.

Ja.n.u.s yelled angrily as a splotch of blood appeared in his upper right chest. He made another try for the gun, and Nate pulled the trigger again. This time the bullet only grazed the other man's ear.

Someone was running down the hall from the direction of the cells. Ja.n.u.s looked over, shoved himself away from Nate, and sprinted for the stairs. Nate got off another shot just before Ja.n.u.s moved up out of sight, but missed.

As he started to stand, Quinn ran up and held out a hand. "Here."

Back to his feet, Nate said, "He's mine."

CHAPTER 59.

"I KNOW WHERE Harris is," Daeng told Orlando.

They had just finished moving everyone to the room at the bottom of the wall. The three op agents were in pretty bad shape, but were at least able to walk. Peter, on the other hand, was still unconscious and had to be carried, though he was showing signs of coming out of it.

"What about Romero?" she asked.

"Him, I'm not sure, but he's probably in the same area."