Page 74 of All Saints Day
Lowry trains her muzzle on Louise, bound to a wooden St. Andrew’s Cross on the far end of the room.
“All right, boys, settle down—that's quite enough” Lowry’s sigma bark rings through the quiet of the room, all the musclesstanding out in her jaw as she grits her teeth—gun still pointed at Louise.
The intensity of Louise's pleas along the bond only grow in strength and fervor the closer we get to her and Frank in the Country Estate.
She bought a small amount of time for herself at the cost of admitting she was in fact the key to the cure, along with the caveat that the cure came with a designation shift.
This had the dual purpose of attempting to plant a seed to dissuade the Windmill from releasing the augmented Zeitnot virus, in addition to buying Louise precious minutes, maybe even hours of time until we could make her rescue.
Through the chemistry of Caz’s theta compounds and the bond of fated mates, we were able to hear Louise across the bond. Frank aided in her deception, taking every opportunity he could to play for time without giving himself or Louise away.
So why now, when we so greatly outnumber Susan Lowry—does he point his gun at Quentin and I?
Caz and Sébastien finish fastening explosives to the door, leading from the torture chamber back into the hallway, and freeze along with everyone else.
The face of Lowry's smartwatch flickers as she holds her gun in a classic teacup grip.
Without moving her finger from the trigger, Susan releases her grip on the butt of her gun and taps the face of the watch.
“Lowry, what the hell is going on up there?” A deep voice calls from the tiny device.
“Kent, keep everybody off of the east wing; the whole thing's wired to blow,” Susan snaps officiously.
“What the hell do you mean the whole thing's wired to blow?” The man’s voice blusters.
“Kent, If you wanna be useful, quit asking questions and get me a team that can breach from above but tell them to keep a healthy distance. I'm inactive negotiations,” Susan barks out.
“Active negotiations!? Who the hell authorized this? You’ve gonetoo far this time, Susan. We’re—” before the man's voice can finish, Lowry taps another finger angrily against the face of her watch, returning her hand to the butt of her gun.
“You boys are going to have to step very carefully if you don't want me to paint the walls with Miss Penny here.”
If I hadn't known Susan Lowry, if I had never seen the way she looked at Louise—even with the cynical angle that Lowry couldn’t waste Louise on account of the fact that Louise was the key to the cure—I might have actually thought Susan wasn't bluffing.
“Cut the bullshit, Susan!” I bark, flexing my alpha aura on her. “We all know. You're not gonna shoot her.”
Susan lifts her chin.
“I wouldn't push me if I were you, Dennis,” she warns.
“Ever the optimist, aren’t we, Susan? Brave of you to assume you'd be the one to shoot first,” Quentin chimes in, eager not to be forgotten.
“I'd be willing to put my money on Frank if we’re talking about who would shoot first,” Susan levels coldly.
“And all of you seem to forget that I am the man with the big red button!” Seb pipes up, stepping into view beside Louise, holding up a small black controller with the aforementioned big red button.
“Yeah, big boom wins out over pew pew almost every time,” Caz agrees, appearing over Seb’s shoulder like some bizarro hype-man.
A cruel smile crawls across Susan's face, and she turns her gaze to Louise—addressing her former protégé as if Louise were the only one in the room.
“What gave you the impression that the Windmill are the only ones after you if you leave here?”
“I considered, but I guess I'll take my chances out there on the open road,” Louise bites out.
“You said you wanted the White Knight. Did you ever stop to consider for a moment that he might one day come after you?That the only thing protecting you from him was me—the Windmill?”
I see the smile run away from Louise's face, and I can feel the cold, sharp panic; the metallic tang of her fear as Louise turns over the idea that there may be truth in Lowry's words.
All of us Saints rush to assure her down the bond—lies, deception, another manipulation, another misdirection.
