“If you kill me, you have to jump on her to save her life, with her left torso pulverized. She’s my insurance. The best insurance possible.” Then he did shoot twice, and I cartwheeled for cover, but there was no cover. I made it behind the couch, it was concealment at least. I kept the stairs guarded. He wasn’t leaving if I had anything to say about it.
Even without looking at her, I could tell she was trembling in utter fear. I was scared too. I was also pissed off. This was so crude, so inelegant. He really had nothing left besides kidnapping.
I needed to piss him off in return, enrage him to illogic, and then move before he did try to harm her. I hit Boost again. I paused for a moment as my vision blurred and steadied, the rush tingling, burning hotly through me.
Then I said, “So, is that what happened with Deni and Tyler? You left them to cover for you?”
Oh, that hit him. And he wasn’t about to say Deni had . . . killed herself while he hung back. I had him pegged. Brave, but very bothered about perceptions. Nothing wrong with that, but it was a slight, very slight emotional weakness and I was going for it. He shook in rage. Emotional response. I was winning.
He didn’t shout, but his voice did quaver. “I fought, goddam you. I didn’t leave until I had your daughter hid. You owe me.”
“Thanks for that. Now you rig her as a shield. I think we’re even.” I stood slowly, tossed in a twitch of the corner of my mouth. I couldn’t manage a real smile.
He said, “Pity she didn’t mean more to you earlier.” It was an attempt to probe me.
I said nothing, just made a sniff of disdain. He lightened his grip slightly, but I had to believe him about that charge. I could see the tape on her shoulder. I mentally begged for her not to mess with it. If Silver could catch up, I’d have more room. She might disarm it.
He kept talking. Good. “I could have let everyone die. Deni was first. Don’t you care? Even about her? She caught them on the stairs and made a mess.”
I nodded marginally. “I saw the mess. Not bad, really.”
He continued. “I was up top by then, hid the baby and went down the wall. I figured I was dead. Earth screwed us big time, I have no problem making them pay.”
“So what do you want?”
“To be left alone. I’m not taking missions here, no threat to anyone.” He said it in a reasonable, bargaining tone.
“I can’t do that.”
He shrugged, trying to look dispassionate and failing. “Then you die. Or she does, which is worse. You’ll never know when I’m coming for her. Want to pit your demolitions skill against mine?”
I laughed loudly. “Anytime, asshole.” Confidence is a weapon. And I knew I was better.
“Yeah? But I know where you are.”
“You didn’t for ten years. You only do now because it fit my plans.”
I felt the tingle fading, and I needed everything I could get, so I Boosted again.
He grinned. “That’s why you’re sweating and shaking, old man. Too much for you?”
Of course I was sweating. I . . .
And it hit me.
He didn’t know I had a CNS bioplant. It was never mentioned to the newcomers. It was an open secret now, but mostly mentioned in context of Blazer Assault or Combat Rescue. We were never mentioned because we didn’t exist, and as infiltrators, it was less obviously needed. That’s why I’d not had everyone implanted. In retrospect, I used mine twice on Earth and should have had it for everyone. But now . . .
I had him. It was an even better ace when he didn’t know it was coming. Except the Boost was killing me. I’d taken four shots in a row and one earlier. Two was the maximum safe. Three in succession was a battlefield override for escape, and as far as I knew had never been done. Four. I could feel a burn in my muscles and tingle in my nerve endings. I was effectively oxidizing my tissues, my metabolism almost double the max I’d get in a hard workout, and I wasn’t moving at all to burn it off.
I felt another shiver of weakness. I couldn’t have that. I was at the point where doing nothing was worse than full power. Each hit weakened my wrecked metabolism.
Five.
I heard a whine in my ears Very odd. I wondered when my heart would explode.
As long as I killed him first, or kept him from my daughter, that would be fine.
I said, “So this is all you have left? Really? A bomb and a hostage? I’m ashamed. I trained you, I expected a better class of tactics. Are you admitting that deprived of one account, cut off from your boss, faced with arrest on every civilized planet and sought by a few intel agencies, you can’t figure an intellectual escape? This is all it took to stop you?” I made a disdainful snort with slight toss of my head. That whine sounded again. It seemed familiar now.