He punched her in the mouth this time, and her head rocked back. Pain flared for just a second and then was forgotten. Score one for the drugs. She tasted blood. “Why me?” She’d never understood.
“You know why,” he said, his smile a tad lopsided. “You’ve always known why.”
She shook her head. “No. I haven’t. Blue eyes and brown hair? That’s what Mary is to you? And the numbers? Those silly numbers of seven, eighteen, and twenty-five? They don’t mean anything.”
“I hope my face is the last thing you remember,” he muttered, retrieving the backpack and forcing her arms through it. When he attached the front this time, he clicked a lock into a ring. “I had this made especially for you. There’s no taking it off.”
Man, it was heavy. She tried to shrug out of it, her mind spinning again.
He held a garage door opener in front of her eyes. “I can’t wait to push this. What a disappointment you’ve been. I’ve been searching for you for almost seven years. For what?”
She smiled and felt blood dribble down her chin. “I didn’t think of you once. Not once.” Her head lolled forward again.
“I’m making the sacrifice of you to God.” His grip on her arm hurt. “You’re dying in hellfire today, Mary.” He dragged her across the wooden floor, and the gun at her thigh scraped her. Oh yeah. The gun. She had to get to it. “And you’re going to take a lot of sinners with you.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Mal hit the ground the second the police car lurched to a stop. They’d landed the helicopter outside of DC and had instantly been picked up. He spread the map over the hood of the car and pointed out potential bomb locations.
Force spoke into a radio, sending directions for HDD teams and bomb squads while also pointing out positions for the team. “Wolfe go here, Raider go here,” he ordered. “I’ll go to this one, and West? I’m assuming you want the big intersection right here?”
Malcolm nodded. “That’s my guess. He’ll want something big and special for Pippa.” The intersection was right in the middle of the parade route, covered on both sides by storefronts. There was nowhere to run or hide.
“Be careful, and try for containment as much as possible,” Force ordered. “We don’t know anything about these bombs. There could be a dead man’s trigger, so if you shoot the person holding the remote, the bomb may explode. Use extreme caution.” He zipped his jacket to hide his gun.
Mal did the same and pressed harder on his earbud so it wouldn’t fall out. “The schematics show the triggers are remote, but you’re right about the dead man’s switch.” He gave Force a look. “Keep tight.” Then he turned and jogged as discreetly as possible through the milling crowd that was making its way up the avenue toward the Capitol, a mile away.
Every time his right foot hit pavement, his ribs jarred in a way that stole his breath. Shoving all feeling away was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
But this was for Pippa.
The paradegoers moved up the street, chanting and singing. The jovial mood extended to the crowds on the sidewalks, many of whom were holding signs or milling around with food in their hands.
Mal cut left and then turned down the route toward the spot Isaac had marked on the map. Then he took another right at the end of the block.
He saw Isaac before Pippa. The cult leader was about three yards from the street corner he’d designated. Mal eyed the area. Everything inside him bellowed that Isaac didn’t want to die. He was fine letting his followers die, but he wanted to live.
Mal could use that.
He came up on their left, his vision narrowing for the tiniest of seconds on Pippa. She stumbled next to Isaac, trying to say something, her voice drowned out by the crowd. A large white backpack covered her entire lower back.
Mal’s chest compressed.
His blood pumped faster, and he looked wildly around for a solution. There was only one. Timing his movements exactly right, he pivoted and shoved both of them into the open doorway of a coffee shop.
A lady yelped and fell against the wall.
“Get out!” he yelled, holding up his badge. “Everyone get out now!” People scrambled for the doorway.
Isaac partially turned, fury darkening his face. He held up a small garage door button.
“You push it, you die, too,” Malcolm said as the door closed behind him and the place grew quiet. Shouts could be heard from outside, but inside, only the hum of a coffee machine pierced the tension. “Are you prepared to die, Isaac?”
Isaac tried to move away from Pippa, and she grabbed his arm, staying with him.
Smart girl.
Isaac shook his head. “How are you even here?”
