We lock eyes, and I can tell the moment he recognizes me. He reaches for his gun, but I’m faster. I twist his neck. The snap tells me he’s done for. Bummed I didn’t get the rifle, I leave the crooked cop on the floor and walk out to where Agent Glass leans against the front desk.
“Are you sure you’ve chosen the right profession?” I ask.
A rifle case hangs from his shoulder. “For an assassin, you’re fairly predictable.”
“Am I?” He stole my rifle from the evidence closet. He’s right. Coming here for the rifle was predictable since I’ve allowed emotions to dictate my strategy.
“I delivered on my end.” Agent Glass points at the TV.
The crew on the scene arranges a man on the stretcher. They lay him down flat and hover over him, attempting CPR. I hold my breath while they revive my brother, who is wearing my suit. His hands dangle from the stretcher. Gray ash covers his face.
The chopper zooms in on his face.
The reporter doesn’t comment.
It’s as if time stopped. We’re looking at a dead man. I doubt God hears me anymore, but in case my brother and I survived our parents because of some divine plan, I humbly beg for Connor to return to us.
My brother’s eyes snap open. One is blue. The other brown.
“Oh my God, itishim!” the reporter shouts. “Declan Crossbow has been rescued from the explosion. This makes me wonder: Was this an assassination attempt?”
Agent Glass exhales the breath he’s been holding. Our deal was contingent on my brother’s being alive.
“Oh, good, I won’t have to killeveryone,” I say.
“Only the select few?” he asks.
I leave the station.
He follows.
“I’m sure the cameras out here are still working,” I say. “Are you sure you want to be seen with me?”
“I’m sure.”
I chuckle. “You’re risking a lot today. Why?”
“Because this is the only way I can ensure that you can do your job.”
Which is to take out the chief. Leave Ivan to Glass. Not sure about the second part of our deal, but I say, “I’ll do my job.”
“You’re out of resources.”
“People are my resources, and I’ve got the people I need.” My bike is gone. Someone stole my stolen bike from in front of the police station. I look around. My gaze falls on the agent. “That was a nice bike.”
“I didn’t take it.” He dangles his keys. “But I can give you a ride.”
“I don’t know where I’m going yet.”
He makes a face. “How long before you know?”
“At least a day.”
“The chief thinks Connor will show up now,” he says.
“Let him think that. The only predictable thing about Connor is that he’ll bring death to people who wrong us. Chief will rest in peace knowing he was right about the fact he predicted he’ll die.” Speculating that I would come for my rifle was a good move, I’ll give the agent that, but since I don’t know how I’ll extract my brother and Dina from the hospital, which is surrounded by thousands of enemies who want to kill me, nobody else can know either. Hence, I need time to plan.
“You seem sure they won’t kill your brother,” Glass says.
