Page 122 of Viral Justice

Akbar had one hand wrapped around Ali’s arm and a handgun pointed at her head in the other.

Max looked her over, but didn’t see any new evidence of abuse or mistreatment.

“I have not hurt the woman,” Akbar said. “Nor will I, unless you provoke it.” He smiled. “Thank you for surrendering. You’ve saved me a great deal of money.”

“You put the bounty on me?”

“Of course. I had to keep you busy while I created my masterpiece.”

Whatever sanity Akbar had retained after the death of his family, it was all gone now.

Hunt came out of the building and was searched, followed by Warren, Jessup, Tom, Bird and Holland.

“I had heard she was a fierce fighter.”

Max watched Akbar tighten his grip on Ali’s arm. The bastard was going to leave bruises.

“She’s the best shot I’ve ever seen,” Max said softly. “And she teaches some hand-to-hand to soldiers in training, but this...” He looked around. “This isn’t training.”

“Women,” Akbar said, disdain coating every word, “are better suited to intellectual and family pursuits.” He smiled faintly. “Dr. Perry surprised me when she blew up her lab. I hadn’t expected that.”

There was an underlying tone of curiosity in Akbar’s voice that finally gave Max something to work with, something to distract him from Ali’s deadly threat. “I was furious when I found out what she had done,” he said, shaking his head. “Her reason for doing it only made me madder.”

Akbar tilted his head to one side and leaned slightly toward Max. “What was the reason?”

Oh, yes, he really wanted to know.

“You attempted to use emotional blackmail to get what you wanted from her. Fear isn’t a good motivator to someone who’s as pragmatic as she is. She has little patience for that sort of emotional outburst.”

Akbar stared at Max, unblinking for several seconds before saying, “I almost wish she was here rather than you.”

Max shrugged. “She’d just blow something else up.”

Akbar’s stare finally left him and the terrorist glanced at the line of Special Forces soldiers kneeling with their hands behind their heads.

“There are only six of them,” Akbar said. “There should be more.”

“One of the men died of the flu last night,” Max explained. “Others died of injuries sustained in a firefight.”

“Where are their bodies?”

“Inside, wrapped up.”

Akbar’s dead eyes didn’t flicker or flinch. “Show me.”

Max led the way into the old hospital. Akbar followed, his grip on Ali’s arm unchanged. Several armed militants came with them, and the rest stayed outside to guard the Special Forces soldiers.

Max took them to the room with the bodies. Akbar’s men unwrapped the dead with little care.

Akbar ignored those whose deaths had been caused by violence and leaned down to examine Bull. “Symptoms before death?”

“Cough and fever. He complained of shortness of breath, took a couple of cold pills and went to sleep. He never woke up.”

Akbar looked down Bull’s shirt. “You didn’t autopsy him?”

“I didn’t deem it necessary. We’d already seen enough dead bodies to know what killed him.”

“And that is?”

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