Page 86 of Killer Clone

A question for later.

Stella nodded. “Well, here we are. Let Father Ted go. You don’t need him.”

That laugh came again, and goose bumps rose on Stella’s arms.

“You’re right again. But that puts me at a bit of a disadvantage, no?”

“Come on, Trevor.” Hagen shook his head. “That’s not how this works. Let him go and put your weapons down. We can figure this out.”

“You’re surrounded, Trevor.” Stella couldn’t understand what was going through the young man’s head. Had he played one too many video games and believed his life would be reset later? “SWAT’s on the way. You don’t want to die today.”

She watched him process. He was doing the math, calculating the odds.

“We can help you, Trevor. If it’s money you want, we can give you money. But only if you let Father Ted go.”

McAuley hesitated. Then, a flicker of realization.

No way out. No reset button. Game over meant forever in the real world.

McAuley pressed the blade deeper into Father Ted’s skin. “I’ll let him go once everyone else leaves. Get out!”

He fired two more shots at the doorway. It was empty, thankfully.

But the situation couldn’t go on like this. She needed to act.

Stella shifted around the left side of the table. Father Ted was bleeding. McAuley’s blade had broken through skin, and his white collar sucked in the red from the wound like a sponge.

Though now exposed, she could shoot McAuley before he did any more damage. She knew she could. Adjusting her aim, she slid the muzzle down his body and squeezed the trigger.

A red mist exploded from McAuley’s thigh. He screamed, dropping to his knees. The knife clattered beside him as he tried to staunch the sudden rush of blood. His gun was still in his other hand, though.

Rushing forward, Stella kicked his gun out of his grasp as he rolled over in agony. One hand dropped close to the knife.

“Father!” Hagen yelled, and the priest started crawling away.

As the young man reached for the knife, Stella lunged to get to it first just as another gunshot blasted through the room.

The top of McAuley’s head opened up like a dropped pumpkin. His brains splattered across the floor and wall. And a wisp of smoke drifted away from the muzzle of Anja’s Glock.

Stella’s gut twisted. “Dammit, Anja!” But she didn’t have time to dwell on the consequences of the other agent’s choice. “Call an ambulance!” She kicked the knife clear and checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

She looked at Hagen, who was tending to the priest. “Hagen?”

Father Ted took a shaky breath. “I think I’m okay. A surface wound.” He touched his bloodstained collar. “Someone’s watching over me.”

Hagen pressed a cloth to the wound and activated his radio. “This is Agent Yates, requesting EMS to my location, now.”

38

Stella inhaled deeply, trying to slow her racing heart. She’d checked the oven three times already, but her stomach still twisted with doubt.

Itlookedright—bubbly cheese, golden edges, the rich scent of tomato and herbs filling the kitchen—but what if something had gone wrong? Could you burn lasagna? Probably. If anyone could, it was her.

Her mouth was dry. Her heart thumped too fast for something as simple as dinner.

Hagen must have noticed, because he brushed a kiss against her ear. “Smells great.”

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