Fantasy in Death (In Death #30)(106)

“Darling Eve. I’m not going anywhere.” Her face, he thought again as the pain seared up his side. “I had worse than this when I was twelve.”

She added the second pad, laid her hand over his. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“That’s what I’m telling you,” he said as the door burst open. The entry team came in loaded, with Peabody behind them.

“Get a medic!” Eve demanded. “Get a damn medic in here. We’re clear. We’re clear.”

“Sweep the place,” Peabody ordered. “Secure that ass**le.” She dropped to her knees beside Eve. “MT’s on the way. How bad?” She reached out, stroked Roarke’s hair back from his face.

“Stabbed him in the side. He’s lost blood. I think we’ve slowed it down, but—”

“Let’s have a look.” Feeney crouched down. “Ease back, Dallas. Come on now, kid, ease back.” Feeney elbowed her aside, gently lifted the field dressing. “That’s a good hole you’ve got there.” He looked into Roarke’s eyes. “I expect you’ve had worse.”

“I have. She’s some of her own.”

“We’ll take care of it.”

“It’s clear.” McNab shot his weapon away, knelt down beside Peabody. “How you doing?” he asked Roarke.

“Been better, but, hell, we won.”

“That’s what counts. Callendar’s grabbing towels out of the bathroom. We’ll fix you up.”

“No doubt.” As he started to sit up, Eve shoved in again.

“Don’t move. You’ll start up the bleeding again. Wait—”

“Now you shut up,” he suggested, and tugged her to him, pressed his lips firmly to hers.

22

Eve sat in the conference room with the team, her commander, Mira, and Cher Reo.

She watched, with the others, while her recording played on-screen, and tried to ignore the fact that on it she fought for her life wearing a black skin-suit and copper breastplate.

If she couldn’t still feel the memory of Roarke’s blood on her hands, and the aches and burns in her own body, it would’ve been ridiculous.

Again, she watched Roarke block her from attack while she fired at holo-images. Why hadn’t she hit the controls sooner, she thought? Why hadn’t she found them sooner? Seconds sooner and he wouldn’t have taken the knife. Only seconds.

She saw it happen again, the pivot and block to save her, the fierceness of his face. And the slide of the knife into his vulnerable side.

Then the scene changed—like a flipped channel—and they stood in a room ruined by her blasts and streams, smoke thick, the controls crackling flame, and Roarke’s blood staining the floor.

“It’s bizarre,” Reo murmured. “I’ve watched it twice now, listened to your report, and I still have a hard time believing it.”

“We’ll need to keep as many of the details as possible out of the media.” Whitney scanned the faces in the room. “As many as possible inside this room. All of his records and equipment were confiscated?”

“Everything in the place,” Eve confirmed. “He may have another hole, but I believe that’s unlikely. He kept it all close to home. We’ll take him into Interview shortly.” She turned to Mira. “Ego, competition, pride of accomplishment?”

“Yes, all those areas are vulnerable points. He’s become not only addicted to the game, but may have lived inside it for some time. It’s a more exciting reality, one where he controls all—but stands aloof. He didn’t engage in play with you.”

“He’s a coward.”

“Yes, but one who believes himself superior. You only won because you cheated. He believes that, too.”

“The game was the weapon, he controlled the game. Can we charge him with First Degree on Minnock?” Eve asked Reo.

“Tricky. It could be argued he only intended Minnock to play, and that the victim could have won. And we have no proof Minnock wasn’t fully aware of the technology when he himself started the game.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I agree, but I can’t prove it beyond a reasonable doubt in court. We go for Man One—just hear me out,” she said before Eve could object. “Man One on Minnock, Reckless Endangerment on Allen, the same on both you and Roarke, adding Assault on a police officer, and the stack of Cyber Crimes, the unregistered equipment, false statements, and so on. We wrap him up, Dallas, make the deal, avoid the trial that could drag on for months—and sensationalize the technology and the crimes in the media. He’ll do a solid fifty or more in a cage. A cage, due to the cyber-charges, without access to the e-toys he knows and loves. It’s harsh, and it’s apt.”

“I want Attempted Murder on Cill and Roarke. I want him charged, goddamn it.” She pulled herself back, pulled it in. “I’m going in on Murder One on Bart Minnock. If you deal it down later, I’ll accept that, but I want him charged, and I want to start the deal at the high mark.”

Reo studied Eve’s face. Whatever she saw there had her easing back. “Let’s see what happens in Interview, and go from there.”

“Then let’s get started.”

Whitney pulled her aside. “He can sweat until morning. Until you’ve had a little more recovery time.”