Under the Gun

“But you had a warning.”

“I saw a shadow move near the hangar. We weren’t wearing night vision equipment. You know how it screws you up if there’s a sudden flare. A flashlight can blind you and make you a target. Firing commenced. Matt threw himself at me and took us both to the ground. That’s all I remember.”

“Okay, now what did you see in the hospital? In your mind, you saw this guy coming down the hallway.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. I knew where he was in relation to us, I guess. I felt his intent while he was psyching himself up for the kill. Matt always said that he could grasp things like that when a subject’s emotions ran high. It was just feelings, and…glimpses of what he was seeing, I think.”

Holly studied Will for a long minute. She was sort of surprised he was willingly describing his episode of extrasensory perception in as careful detail as he had the actual events at the airfield. “What were the visuals?”

Will shrugged. “The weapon. I got a fix on that, unless my mind’s playing tricks. Some kind of plastic deal, I think. Featherweight. Weird looking. He was really proud of it, as if he’d made it himself. Almost laughing at how simple it was to get it past the detectors.”

“Excellent, Will. That’s exactly what he had,” Holly said softly, encouraging him to continue. “Anything else? Try to remember.”

He turned inward, she could tell, concentrating hard. “Anger. Contained fury, though. He had to kill me.”

“He was afraid you’d glimpsed his face that night,” she guessed. “He had to get to you before you recovered and were able to do exactly what I’m about to do right now—match his face with an identity.”

“How would he know that I hadn’t already done that?” Will asked. “He’d have to have a contact at the hospital, or with somebody who was keeping close track of my condition.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s what Eric’s following up on.” She glanced at the monitor, where the first picture had materialized. “Here we go.”

“What did he look like?” Will asked.

“Average height. Bushy eyebrows. I’m pretty sure the hair and mustache were fake. His shoulders sloped, sort of like a no-neck athlete, you know?”

Will sat quietly beside her as she examined the five photos Jack had sent with his first message. “Not any one of these guys,” she reported with a puff of frustration.

She opened the next e-mail, with more files attached. “Rats. This could take forever.”

For a long while there was no sound other than the click of the keys and her own occasional hum of disappointment.

Then Will said, almost to himself, “If I could get something of his, something he touched… I don’t know if I can read him that way, but did he drop anything?”

Holly thought for a minute. “Shell casings at the airport? He would have touched those while loading. The dart from the nurse’s neck?”

Will shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just a thought, something to try, but it’s pretty far-fetched. Tell Jack to send what he’s got, just in case. Eric’s probably tried everything already, since clairvoyance is his bag. Mine is… I don’t really know what mine is,” he admitted with a grunt. “If it’s anything at all.”

“It’s not like Joe’s snapshot images, is it?” She shook her head before he answered. “No, that’s pre-cognitive, and so are Clay’s visions, except that he has to seek them out, and then they’re too symbolic to mean much until after the fact. But yours seem to be real-time telepathy.”

“Added to remote viewing, apparently,” he added. “Like Matt’s.”

“Can you read me?” Holly asked. “Try it.”

He was silent for a while, then sighed. “No. Nothing. What are you thinking?”

“That we’ll ask Jack for the objects, anyway. It’s certainly worth a shot,” Holly said, and promptly fired off an e-mail to that effect.

She really should encourage Will to keep trying to get in touch with his newfound ability and explore it to the max. “If it’s not too painful for you, would you tell me about Matt and how you both dealt with his perceptions?”

“He had them and I didn’t. At least I never picked up on anything from other people. With Matt, I pretty much knew what he was thinking most of the time. We didn’t talk about it, it just was.”

“And you never even attempted to do what he did?”

Will shook his head. “Hell, no. He caught a lot of flack because of it when we were kids. He never denied it, though. It was part of him and he used it, just took it for granted most of the time.”

“Maybe you suppressed your ability early on because people gave him such a hard time about it,” Holly guessed. “That would be a natural reaction.”

“Spare me the pop psychology.”

“That’s my bag, in case you never noticed. People actually pay me for it.”

As usual, Will ignored her tone. “We were thoroughly analyzed by experts, believe me. Matt enjoyed confusing them. He really got into those so-called studies.”

“Matt was a show-off,” Holly said with a smile. “You were always the quiet one.”

“Were?”

She patted his arm and sighed. “Yep. You realize you’ve discussed more personal stuff with me in the last few hours than you have in all the time I’ve known you? And that’s a good thing, Will.”

“Forced proximity, I imagine. Nothing else to do.”

“No, it’s more than that. Different,” Holly argued. “You and I have been on secluded ops before with plenty of time and opportunity for conversation, and you hardly said anything at all about yourself.”

“Maybe you never let me get a word in,” he teased, then sobered a little. “I think I get what you’re trying to say. Maybe I’m even reading you a little right now. You’re worried I’m taking on Matt’s characteristics. Trying to be him now that he’s gone. I was his shadow for so long and now the substance of us is gone.”

“No, that’s wrong, Will. You’re obviously not reading my mind but projecting your own worry. Matt was not the substance. You were two separate and very valuable individuals. You might have looked identical, but you were so different from each other. Maybe you don’t see it that way, but I always have,” Holly assured him. “We chose you for the Sextant team. Just you.”

“Only because of the language thing.”

“No, not entirely. You do have a super background in Middle Eastern languages, but Matt had Russian.”

Will shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No! Don’t tell me. You subbed for him in class. Will, that was cheating!”

“No, we never switched. He…we thought about it, but that would have put him at a big disadvantage if he’d ever had to use it. I only…well, sort of tutored him.”

She sat up straight and stared at him in surprise. “You speak Russian? You never listed that!”

He shrugged again. “I never formally studied it. Not in class. I might have had to justify that if I’d put it on my résumé.”

“Yeah, and it would have made Matt’s list of creds look even slimmer than yours, right?”

She slid her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. “Don’t ever sell yourself short, Will. You were never Matt’s shadow. You were his support. You were his anchor, his rudder.”

Will laughed. “His sail, too? If you knew how much both of us hated boats, you’d come up with another analogy.”

He rested his head against hers and patted the hand she had placed on his arm. “But I see what you’re saying and I appreciate the thought. Matt would have laughed his butt off at this whole conversation.”

“I bet he would. But you ought to listen to me.”

“I always listen to you,” he said softly. “It’s one of the great joys of my life, listening to you, even when you don’t make a lick of sense.”

They laughed together. Holly felt his steady warmth flow through her like a balm. It amazed her how they could be together this way with nothing sexual happening at all, and yet feel empowered with the energy of it.

“You should go back to work,” he said, lifting his head away from hers and disengaging. “I’m getting maudlin here. Must be the drugs.” But they both knew he hadn’t taken so much as an aspirin all day long.

He stood, catching his foot on the leg of the computer desk and cursing under his breath. She barely stopped herself from reaching out and giving him a hand. That fierce independence of his needed to assert itself, and she needed to help it do so more than he needed her in mom mode.

He recovered his balance and braced his hand on the edge of the desk. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll make myself scarce for a while.”

“Going out to run a few laps?” she quipped to hide her disappointment.

“Sure, why not? Need me to pick up anything while I’m out? Be sure you describe it by feel.”

Holly groaned. “He made a joke! A blind joke, too! Red letter day in the life of Mr. Solemnity.”

“Point me to the door,” Will said with a disgusted shake of his head. “Now I’m all turned around.”

“Go to your two o’clock and straight ahead,” she suggested.

“Walk me into the wall and I’ll trade you in on a guide dog,” he warned.

“Two jokes in one day. That qualifies as a stand-up routine.”

“Get to work, Holly,” he ordered with a backward wave. “One of us needs to be earning our pay.”

“Slave driver.”

She clicked the keys, pretending to be busy as she watched him make his way to the open door.

He veered a tad off course and touched the wall, then slid his hands along it in both directions until he found the door frame.

Her fingers continued making noise on the keyboard. A tear leaked out and she quickly dashed it away.

What if his blindness became permanent? She wanted so much to hold him, to protect him, but he would never accept that. Not now. He would see any offer she made as pity.

The awful thing was, she did feel sorry for him and couldn’t deny that she did. She knew how she would hate it if he, or anyone else, ever felt that way about her.

Damn, she almost wished she were the one out there running down leads, and someone else had been assigned to watch Will’s back.

She didn’t really mean that, Holly admitted as soon as she thought it. She couldn’t be anywhere right now but exactly where she was. Even if Jack relieved her and ordered her to go, she couldn’t leave Will in anyone else’s care.

With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, she turned to the computer and began scanning faces for the features of his would-be assassin.

Chapter 4

None of the photos looked remotely like the shooter in the hospital. Holly ran them through the shredder and called Jack with the bad news. There would be others, he promised. The search had hardly begun.

Time for a break. She went to the old wardrobe and thumbed through the generous stacks of clothing bought specifically for witnesses who might arrive here without luggage.

She doffed the sweats she had put on that morning, and found herself a tank top and shorts. Then she headed for the room with the exercise equipment, hoping to sweat off some of the tension.

The sound of sliding weight cables reached her before she got there. Grayson must be working out.

Uh-oh, not Grayson. That was so not him.

The sight of Will made her freeze in the doorway. He was wearing only a pair of knit running shorts, lying on his back, gripping the bar on the pulley, straining every muscle as he slowly drew it down to his chest.

A fine sheen of perspiration coated his entire body. Every bulge of muscle shone, even the finely sculpted thighs and calves.

She jerked her gaze to his face for her own peace of mind. His features gleamed, too. Sweat beaded and rivulets ran off his forehead, leading her eye down to the flexing muscles of his neck.

Her breath had stuck in her throat, but oxygen deprivation did absolutely nothing to dull her appreciation. Man, he was something else.

Nope, he wasn’t bad at all, she thought with a grin, noting the snake-and-anchor tattoo stretching over his biceps. She knew he had gotten it during his stint in the marines.

In belated rebellion to all that family money, he and his brother had struck out on their own the summer after their freshman year, served their three years and then returned to college, wiser, calmer and as totally independent as self-made men. Also determined to make a difference in their world. They certainly had done that.

She admired Will so much. His dedication. His courage. His incredible mind. And there was a whole lot more of him to appreciate in addition to those inner attributes.

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