Jack & Jill (Alex Cross 3)

“Let them think they’re ready,” Jack said. “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we? Now come here, you,” he smiled. “You don’t look terrible at all. Never happen. You look ravishing, Sara. May I ravage you?”

“Now?” Sara weakly protested. It was a whisper. So tiny and vulnerable and unsure. But she couldn’t resist his strong, reassuring embrace. She never had been able to, and that was part of the plan as well. Everything had been anticipated, which was why they couldn’t fail.

He slid out of his running shirt, exposing a glistening-wet chest. All the tufts of his hair were damp with sweat. He pressed up against Sara. She arched her body hard against him. Their pulses were racing. Jack and Jill. In New York. So close to the end.

He could feel her heartbeat quickening, like a small hunted animal’s. She couldn’t help it. She was so scared now, legitimately so.

“Please tell me that we’ll see each other again, even if we won’t. Tell me it isn’t over after today, Sam.”

“It won’t be over, Monkey Face. I’m as frightened as you are right now. To feel this way is normal, and sane. You’re very sane. We both are.

“In a few hours we’ll be on our way out of New York. All of this Jack and Jill will be behind us,” she whispered. “Oh, I do love you, Sam. I love you so much that it’s scary.”

It was scary. More than Sara could possibly know. More than anybody ought to know, or ever would. History wasn’t for the general public—it never had been.

Slowly and carefully, he slid a Ruger from the rear waistband of his sweatpants. His hands were sweaty. He was holding his breath now. He placed the gun against Sara’s head and fired at a slightly downward angle into her temple. Just one shot.

A professional execution.

Without passion.

Almost without passion.

The Ruger was silenced. The noise in the hotel room was no more than a tiny, insignificant spit. The harsh impact of the 9mm bullet took her out of his arms. He shivered involuntarily as he looked down on the lifeless body on the hotel rug.

“Now it’s over,” he said. “The pain of your life is over, all the bitterness and hurt. I’m sorry, Monkey Face.”

He put the final note in Jill’s right hand. Then he squeezed her fist so that the note crumpled naturally. He held Sara’s hand for the last time.

And Jill came tumbling after. He thought of the words in the children’s rhyme.

But Jack would not fall down.

The day of ultimate madness had begun.

Jack and Jill had finally begun.

PART VI

NOBODY IS SAFE ANYMORE—NOBODY

CHAPTER

87

THE THICK DOCUMENT in my hands was entitled Visit of the President of the United States. New York City, December 16 and 17. It ran to eighty-nine pages and included virtually every moment from when the President would step off Air Force One at La Guardia until he reboarded at approximately two in the afternoon and traveled back to Washington.

Included among the pages were sketches, literally of everywhere the President would be: La Guardia Airport, the Waldorf, the Felt Forum inside Madison Square Garden, the motorcade routes, alternate routes.

The Secret Service document stated:

10:55 A.M. The President and Mrs. Byrnes board motorcade

Note: The president and Mrs. Byrnes proceed through a cordon of NYPD officers at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

11:00 A.M. Motorcade departs Waldorf via route (code C) to Madison Square Garden, the Felt Forum

Closed arrival.