Page 64 of Alex Cross Must Die

“Loading my weapon,” said Holmes. “When do we leave?”

A uniformed sergeant rushed up with an armload of ballistic vests and helmets.

Holmes grabbed a vest and lowered it over his shoulders. He looked across at Marple and Poe, already suited up. In their bulky gear and wobbly helmets, they looked like kids playing soldier. But this was no game.

A SWAT officer in head-to-toe tac gear stepped up and pointed toward the front door. “You! You! You!You’re with me!”

Holmes checked his watch. If he’d timed the dose properly, he’d be in full flight by showtime.

CHAPTER 68

MARPLE STAYED TIGHTbetween her partners as they headed out the front door. The two massive SWAT trucks were idling by the curb. Their escort pointed toward the open rear doors of the second vehicle and gave them each a hard slap on the back.

“Go! Go! Go!”

They climbed onto the narrow metal step to the interior, then slid along the bench that ran the length of the right side. A row of SWAT officers sat on the opposite bench, adjusting their night-vision goggles and checking their automatic rifles. The air smelled of leather and oil and coffee breath. Marple turned toward Holmes. His head was leaned back against the side of the truck. He had a faraway stare, as if he were looking straight through the roof. Marple nudged him with her elbow.

“Brendan, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Holmes replied, his tone low and flat.

Goddamnit!Marple turned to Poe and whispered tersely into his ear. “He’s high.”

“Make room!” A loud voice from the truck’s rear door. Marple looked over as a massive German shepherd leaped into the truck,followed by a handler gripping a thick leather leash. The doors slammed shut behind them. The engine growled as the truck rolled forward, almost knocking the handler off his feet.

“Down, Gunner!” he commanded.

The sturdy canine crouched by Poe’s feet.

“Drug dog?” Poe asked nervously.

Marple held her breath. Who knew what Holmes was carrying.

“Cadaver,” said the handler.

The truck rounded a turn and Marple felt her stomach heave. It was like being rolled in a barrel. She glanced again at Holmes. His body was loose, his eyes now fixed on the opposite wall. She grabbed his arm and dug her nails into his forearm through his shirt. She brought her lips up to his ear and spoke softly through clenched teeth.

“Don’t blow this, Brendan,” she said. “Just …don’t!”

No reaction.

Marple realized that her partner was already on his own separate planet.

CHAPTER 69

IT WAS Abumpy five-minute ride to the target. For Holmes, the time floated by. He felt safe. Warm. Happy. He stared at the men with guns and smiled. Wondered why they didn’t smile back.

Suddenly, he felt the truck come to a jerking stop. Two seconds later, the rear doors burst open. One by one, the black-suited SWAT cops moved out and jumped down onto the street, rifles ready. Holmes could see the brick mansion on the corner, framed by the opening at the back of the truck; it reached his brain in the form of a beautiful painting.

As the SWAT team moved across the street, Holmes saw Helene Grey lean into the back of the truck. Her voice boomed in his brain. “Listen up! You three stay behind me the whole time. Got it? No stragglers.”

“You hear that, Brendan?” Marple was in his ear.

He nodded and pulled himself up by holding on to a metal handgrip. He felt like he could drift right out of the truck. And then fly over the house. And then …

“Brendan!”Poe shouted into his face. “Are you okay?”

Holmes blinked. Took a breath. Focused. Put his hand on hispartner’s shoulder. “I’m fine, Auguste. Lead on.” He felt Marple beside him, her arm wrapped tightly around his. He knew she would look after him.

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