“I won’t,” Covington snarled. “And you don’t have the authority to overrule.”
“Watch me,” Cross replied. “Mr. Director, turn off the power.”
“I can’t,” he said.
Cross whirled on him. “What are you talking about?”
“System’s in fail-safe,” the director said, chin divot quivering. “It won’t accept a shutdown order until 12:30. That’s to ensure the execution proceeds even if there’s a power failure. Or a terrorist attack.”
Cross spotted the bright yellow hotline. “Suppose he’s in Springfield and calls you. How do you handle a stay then?”
“Simple. We don’t push the buttons.”
“Explain.”
“The generator charges the burst-battery. But the executioners release it by pushing all three buttons at the same time.” He pointed at the anteroom. “They’re the fail-safe to the fail-safe.”
“If they don’t push, nothing happens?”
“Right. The power’s still there, but it doesn’t flow to the chair.”
Cross went back to the intercom. “Executioners. Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Mr. Cross.”
“The Illinois Supreme Court canceled this execution. As the chief law-enforcement officer of this city, I order you to step away from the buttons and leave the anteroom.”
“Right away.”
Get ready . . .
“Belay that!” Covington roared. “I’m the governor, and I’m overriding the court! Stay at your posts and push those buttons!”
Get set . . .
“Detective Thompson,” Cross said.
“Sir?”
“Place the governor under arrest for failure to obey a lawful police order.”
“Yes, sir,” Emily said, reaching for her handcuffs.
Go.
Hill snapped a kick into Emily’s left leg, spinning her to the floor howling. His arm snaked around Covington’s throat and cut off his air supply. As the governor choked and spittled, the polymer swallowing knife whipped from Hill’s pocket onto Covington’s neck.
“What the hell are you doing?” Marty roared, banging on the glass.
“Saying hello to my long-lost brother,” Hill said, pushing in the tip. Blood trickled from sliced capillaries. “How you been, Corey?”
“Not bad, Jason, not bad,” Corey said. “I hear you’re friends with Wayne.”
“Yup,” Jason said. “Having a lot of money does that. You want out of that chair?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Lieutenant Bates,” Cross radioed as he studied the surreal exchange.
“Go ahead,” she sputtered as shifting winds whipped the roof with cannon water.
“The governor is bowing to the wishes of the people and canceling this execution. Get it on the public address. Then bring your explosives team to the chamber. We have a situation.”
“You said your family disowned you,” Covington gurgled as the chokehold loosened.
“I lied,” Corey Trent said. “You of all people should know us filthy psycho killers do that.”
The knife went a fraction deeper. More blood dribbled.
“Let him go,” Emily ordered, drawing her Glock and aiming it at Jason.
“You shoot,” Jason said, “Your precious governor dies, too.”
Emily breathed and released, tightened her grip, steadied her aim. As soon as Jason’s head cleared Covington’s, she’d take him out-
“Detective,” Cross said gently.
“Sir?”
“Ease off just a little, would you? Wayne will gripe forever if Jason’s brains land on his suit.”
The light tone told her he had a plan and was playing for time. She hoofed out a breath, took her finger off the trigger.
“So what do you want?” she asked Jason.
“You,” he said.
“So I assumed,” she said, recalling the firebombing and Riverwalk knifing. “But why?”
Jason grinned, pointed at the enraged giant on the other side of the glass.
“Him,” he said.
Loudspeakers thundered. Nobody understood. Then one man caught on.
“We won!” he shouted. “Pass the word, the execution’s canceled!”
“I’m sorry, Grandpa,” his granddaughter bawled at the disappearing ambulance. “I let the bad man hurt you. I let him, I let him.”
“No, you didn’t, baby,” the choir director said, hugging her close. “Grandpa’s going to be all right.” Danny was seriously injured but stable, thanks to the solid-tip bullets and quick action from the army combat medics. “You deflected all the other bullets. If it wasn’t for you, honey, he’d be dead. Your karate chops saved his life.”