Page 75 of All Saints Day
“You've never protected me, Susan. I've only ever been a tool to you. One that you showed great affection for when I served you well. I wonder… if I’d continued to move in the patterns and rhythms of your plans—if I had accepted some of your more cruel offers, if you might still feel that affection for me now.”
Susan's throat bobs as she works to swallow. When she does speak, her voice is hoarse—parched, thin and cracking at the edges.
“Martin Penny.” Susan lets the words land—a bomb that detonates in the room.
And I knew in that moment Susan's words could wound more than a bullet fired from her gun ever could.
“What did you say?” Louise barely manages to get the question out, her eyelids fluttering—breath running ragged as her entire body swoons against her bonds.
“Martin Penny is the White Knight. He went rogue while working for the Department of Reproduction. He found out that his brother and his sister-in-law had been working for the DPW on the sly—about the sins his brother and his brother’s wife had committed—and decided they were simply too dangerous to allow to live.”
“You're a liar. You always have been a fucking viper just waiting to sink her teeth into my fucking neck!” Louise spits furiously, suddenly arcing up off the wooden cross against her bonds.
“Call me as many names as you want to, Louise. It won't change the truth. Once he finds out, he can use you as leverage… don't think he'll be above using his own niece to safeguard the future.”
A horrible scream tears up and out from deep inside Louise before her body goes limp and still.
There is a silence that hangs suspended—all of us with our guns trained on one another.
I can barely tell the difference between the pounding of my own blood in my ears and the footfall of boots on the rooftop as we run out of time.
It happens so quickly that I almost miss when Frank and Louise lock eyes.
A split second before Frank moves his hand—the muzzle of his gun quickly redirecting—there's barely enough time to register the lift of Susan Lowry's icy blond brows just before he fires.
There's a loud, wet sound, and another hysterical scream escapes Louise as her face is spattered with the scarlet heat of Susan Lowry's blood.
All of us have dropped our guns by the time the ex-section chief of the BSU hits the floor.
There's the muffled zipping noise of Windmill goons repelling down from the roof and swinging into the open hole we made while blasting our way in.
“We have company!” Sébastien yells.
Quentin and I are forced to lend backup to Sébastien and Caz while Frank scrambles to free Louise. We do our best to pick off the armed minions as they advance on us.
“How the fuck do we get out of here?” Caz yelps, ducking behind a large rolling metal toolbox filled with torture devices to get out of the line of fire.
“I'm gonna say the window is out,” Sébastien grunts, falling back to hide behind the barricade with Caz.
Frank returns fire, easily cutting down oncoming attackers as he helps Louise to duck behind an imposing piece of furniture hewn in walnut and marble; popping up every few seconds to take another minion down.
Lowry’s smartwatch continues to ring loudly as a commotion begins in the outside hall.
Evidently, the Windmill had decided the threat of explosions was just a bluff—as the sound of the thumping ram coming from the other side of the closed door indicates that more likely than not the Windmill’s goons are attempting to break the door down.
I make my way, staying low, running across the room to where Frank and Louise are crouched.
“Merde, I guess we're gonna go out the front door!” Sébastien yells, brandishing another small controller. “Everybody, cover your ears!”
All of us see Sébastien's intention down the bond to blow the door wide open—destroying anyone on the other side.
After the blast, once all of us have made our way out of the torture chamber, Sébastien will blow the rest of the planted explosives in the torture chamber—blasting the rest of the east wing sky-high in our wake.
Frank and I hold Louise between us, her hands cupped over her ears, her head tucked between her knees.
“Dennis, we don't have much time—I need you to listen to me,” Frank sputters urgently, pressing his forehead against mine, cupping his hand over the nape of my neck—our heads knock together with the bridges of our noses nearly touching as he speaks clearly and quickly. “Things are going to get bad in a hurry. I need you to promise me that no matter how crazy shit gets, you and the boys focus on getting Louise out of here, and you let me handle covering your 6.”
I understand what he's asking of me, but I'm not sure if I can follow through.
