“Swordfish.”
“Come again?”
“It’s a joke from an old movie. What’s the secret password? Swordfish.”
“I see. Well, it is not swordfish this time. Would you like to know the answer?”
“Sure.”
I hit the accelerator. Feel the RPMs rumble from my feet and up into my chest as the Charger tears up the cracked desert road, leaving a gray cloud behind us.
The Magistrate takes my Colt and puts one bullet in the chamber. Spins it and slams it shut. Puts the gun to his head and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.
He says, “The answer is death. In nothingness, distance has no meaning.”
“But death isn’t nothingness. I’m dead and I’m here now.”
He puts the Colt to my head.
“Perhaps you are not dead enough.”
“I still think ‘swordfish’ is a better answer.”
“But you are not the one asking the question.”
He pulls the trigger.
I wake up to the sound of gunfire—
—and roll out of bed, hit the floor, and run toward the sound. I’m wearing pants and nothing else and for a second I’m tempted to go back for the body armor, but the gunfire just gets louder so I keep going.
As I come out of my room, I can already see that the enormous foyer in Sandoval’s mansion is a fucking war zone. Windows blown out. Holes punched in the walls. Shots gouging chunks out of the marble floor. Ripping through the paintings. Vases explode, sending showers of roses and lilies into the air.
Sandoval is pinned down by the open front door. Sinclair is a few yards back. To Sandoval’s credit, she’s firing back at whoever’s outside with a little pocket pistol.
I crawl to the edge of the room and get a look out one of the smashed windows. To my complete nonsurprise, there’s an unmarked van flanked by men in balaclavas
. They’re even using the same kind of SIG rifles friends of theirs used when they snatched me and killed Philip.
A few seconds later, Sandoval runs out of ammo. I shout to her, hoping she can hear me over the sound of gunfire.
“Eva, get the fuck away from the door.”
If she can hear me, she ignores the order. Can’t say I blame her. With bullets pitting the floor around her, there isn’t anywhere she can get to. It won’t take long for one of the gunmen to zero right in on her head. Part of me wants her to die, but she’s the boss around here and who knows what her lackeys will do or if Howard will fix me when she’s gone? I need Sandoval alive.
Shouting some Hellion hoodoo, I run for her. The curse sends a pressure wave out the front door. It won’t last long—a few seconds at most—but the wave deflects the bullets just long enough for me to grab Sandoval and get her away from the door. Good thing I didn’t expect any thank-yous.
“Do something,” she shouts right in my face.
“Fuck that. I’m not your bodyguard. I did my job already.”
She looks at me hard.
“If those men get in the house, they could kill Howard.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
I crawl to a window and get a quick look outside. A dozen shooters, all with rifles. I don’t have my body armor or a gun, and anyway, I’m not ready to face down another murder-happy army tonight. I crawl to a heavy oak chair nearby and throw it out of the closest window. It knocks the remaining glass and curtains out of the way.