Mal did the same and pressed harder on his earbud so it wouldn’t fall out. “The schematics show the triggers are remote, but you’re right about the dead man’s switch.” He gave Force a look. “Keep tight.” Then he turned and jogged as discreetly as possible through the milling crowd that was making its way up the avenue toward the Capitol, a mile away.
Every time his right foot hit pavement, his ribs jarred in a way that stole his breath. Shoving all feeling away was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
But this was for Pippa.
The paradegoers moved up the street, chanting and singing. The jovial mood extended to the crowds on the sidewalks, many of whom were holding signs or milling around with food in their hands.
Mal cut left and then turned down the route toward the spot Isaac had marked on the map. Then he took another right at the end of the block.
He saw Isaac before Pippa. The cult leader was about three yards from the street corner he’d designated. Mal eyed the area. Everything inside him bellowed that Isaac didn’t want to die. He was fine letting his followers die, but he wanted to live.
Mal could use that.
He came up on their left, his vision narrowing for the tiniest of seconds on Pippa. She stumbled next to Isaac, trying to say something, her voice drowned out by the crowd. A large white backpack covered her entire lower back.
Mal’s chest compressed.
His blood pumped faster, and he looked wildly around for a solution. There was only one. Timing his movements exactly right, he pivoted and shoved both of them into the open doorway of a coffee shop.
A lady yelped and fell against the wall.
“Get out!” he yelled, holding up his badge. “Everyone get out now!” People scrambled for the doorway.
Isaac partially turned, fury darkening his face. He held up a small garage door button.
“You push it, you die, too,” Malcolm said as the door closed behind him and the place grew quiet. Shouts could be heard from outside, but inside, only the hum of a coffee machine pierced the tension. “Are you prepared to die, Isaac?”
Isaac tried to move away from Pippa, and she grabbed his arm, staying with him.
Smart girl.
Isaac shook his head. “How are you even here?”
“God wants me here,” Mal shot back. “Do you think He wants you dead?”
Pippa swayed on her feet.
Mal nearly reached for her and then stopped himself. “What did you give her?”
Isaac looked around, his gaze oddly serene.
Pippa coughed. “Malcolm? You should get out of here. Trust me.” Her voice was slurred.
Isaac stilled and then focused on her. His jaw went slack. “You know him.” He shook his head and stared at Mal. “How? How in the hell?”
“I love him,” Pippa said, grasping the back of a chair for balance. Her eyelids were half-closed, and the bomb on her back seemed to be pulling her.
Betrayal flashed through Isaac’s eyes. “You can’t. You love me. I’m sacrificing everything here.”
“No.” She coughed. “You can’t sacrifice what you don’t have.”
“But I do. Just like God sacrificed his only son.” He smiled, the sight chilling.
She blinked. Once and then again. Her face turned even paler. “No. You’re wrong.”
“I’ve been hinting at the truth forever.” He shoved her, hard, and scrambled toward the door.
Mal stepped in his way and drew out his gun.
Isaac paused and held his hand higher. “I will push this button.”
Pippa fumbled with her skirt, but Mal kept his gaze on the crazy guy. “If you push it, we all die.” He smiled. “I’ve been ready to die since my first assignment. What about you, Isaac? You sure you’re ready? Have you done everything you planned?” God, he had to get that remote. Now. He had to figure out a way to save Pippa.
“Say the words,” Pippa murmured, a gun suddenly in her hands. “I want to hear you say them, even though you’re so wrong.”
Mal eyed her. What was she talking about?
Isaac lowered his chin, his focus on her. “You already know. Always have. Your mother and I were together, right before she met your father. It’s destiny. You can feel it.”
Whoa. Was he saying—
“You are not my father.” Her hands shook.
“Oh, but I am,” Isaac said. “First Corinthians is more than clear. So then both he who gives his own virgin daughter in marriage does well, and he who does not give her in marriage will do better.”
“Your interpretation is wrong,” Pippa said slowly, her words slurred. “So wrong. You really are a nutjob of classic proportions. You wanted to marry your own daughter?”
Isaac’s chest puffed out. “Think of the purity of our line. The blessed children.”
Pippa gagged.
Mal’s earbud crackled. “Got one,” Force said tersely. “Have isolated, removed the backpack, and am clearing the area. Bomb squad move in.”
Wolfe’s voice came next over the line. “We’ve isolated, but she won’t take off the pack.”
“Ditto here,” Raider said quietly. “Working on it.”
“Retreat if necessary,” Force ordered. “Don’t let them take you out as well.”
Mal shut off all the outside noise and concentrated. The second Isaac got out the door, he’d press that button. “Pippa? Can you take off the backpack?”
“It’s locks, I mean locked,” Pippa said. “Leave, Malcolm. Please get out of here.”
If she thought he was leaving her, she was nuts. “Can’t. You’re my heart,” he murmured.
An explosion rocked the city.
“No!” Pippa cried out. She tried to move forward and then had to catch herself with a chair.
Isaac lifted his head to listen, delight crossing his expression.
Another explosion detonated.
Mal’s stomach dropped. God. How many people had just died?
Glee had Isaac dancing in an odd parody of celebration. “That’s two. How lovely. But because of your hard and impenitent heart you are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed.”
“Romans 2:5,” Pippa murmured. “You know, Isaac. I don’t think you really understand the Bible.” Her head lolled a little on her neck, and her gun shook wildly.
Mal tried to keep his head. “Pippa? Put down the gun, honey.” If she shot Isaac, there was a good chance the bomb would trigger.
She sighed. “I love you, Malcolm. Please leave.”
“Love?” Isaac spat. “What are you saying?”
Her eyes widened even as her head bobbed. “We’ve had sex. Lots and lots of sex, Isaac. Tell Malcolm to leave, and I’ll tell you all about it. We can die together. See God together. Wouldn’t you like to see me punished?”
Isaac turned beet red. “Malcolm doesn’t get to live on. We will all die. I have done my duty for my God.” His body tensed.
Force’s voice crackled over the line. “Bomb squad here. Have confirmed there is not a dead man’s switch. Repeat. No dead man’s switch.”
Mal fired instantly, hitting Isaac between the eyes. Then he slid forward on his knees and caught the garage door opener before it could hit the floor. Jesus. He froze in place. Pippa still had a bomb on her chest. “Bomb squad to Sam’s Coffee Shop. Now,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Then he stood and moved toward her.
Force ran inside, out of breath, wire cutters in his hands. “Two of the vests were locked.” He approached Pippa slowly and then snapped the lock.
He and Mal gently slid it free of her arms just as she went down, her eyelids fluttering, her body going still in unconsciousness. Mal caught her, and her gun dropped to the floor.
“Run,” Force ordered, grabbing the door.
Mal tucked her tight and ran as fast as he could away from the backpack.
Chapter Forty-Four
Pippa awoke to the beep of monitors and the vague
feeling of aches and pains in her face. She opened her eyes to see a private hospital room with a huge bouquet of vibrant red roses on the counter. Malcolm slept in a chair, his whiskered chin on his chest, his large body hunched. “Mal?” she croaked, her throat dry.
He jerked and opened his stunning green eyes. One side of his lip lifted in a lopsided smile. “Hey, beautiful.”
She blinked several times and tried to remember everything that had happened. Vulnerability swamped her, and she felt exposed. Way too far out in the world. Then she frowned. “My skin itches. Bad.”
He leaned forward and pushed the hair away from her eyes. His touch was gentle and comforting, and this close, his scent of man and forest eased her. “It’s a side effect of heroin. The docs checked your blood, and Isaac shot you up but good.”
“Isaac,” she said, her head aching. “Dead?”
“Very much so.” Mal’s eyes darkened. “So are your mother and the redheaded woman who planned the march. I’m so very sorry, Pippa.”
The words were a blow but not unexpected. “How many people did they kill?” she asked, tears clogging her throat.
Mal shook his head. “None. We had them contained and were working to get them to remove the backpacks. They both decided to detonate instead.” He sighed. “There were some injuries outside the blast area, a couple serious, but everyone is going to live.”
There was at least that. “I wish I could’ve helped her somehow.” Pippa’s chest hurt.
Mal smoothed his knuckles across her cheek. “You were a kid, baby. Nothin’ you could’ve done.”
Maybe not. But she’d always wonder. “What about Trixie?” She held her breath.
“She’s fine. In a room down the hall, actually. I’ll bring her in later to see you.” He smiled.
Relief filled her so quickly, her body itched more. Then she looked around, noting the door was shut and the room very quiet. Okay. She could relax here a little bit. “Private room?”
He nodded. “Figured you wouldn’t be up to a lot of people or noise.”
Her heart warmed. “I’m not going to be a shut-in any longer.” Though it was nice to have time to make baby steps. Very small steps.
Raider Tanaka moved into the room, a bright green plant in his hands. Scrapes and bruises covered his face, and his dark eyes were somber. “How’s our patient?”
Pippa smiled, surprised that she felt okay having him there. “Alive. I’m glad you are, too.” She hadn’t had a chance yet to get to know this coworker of Mal’s, but he had an air that inspired confidence. He was somebody you could trust. “Thank you.”
He set down the plant, placing it gently on the counter. The green brightened the place up. “You bet.” His hand landed on Mal’s shoulder. “How’s the rib?”
“Broken.” Mal grimaced. “I’ve had worse.”
Wolfe poked his head in. “Just got yelled at by a really pretty nurse about Kat being in my pocket here.” Then he moved fully inside and handed over a big orange balloon that said Happy Birthday. “They were out of get-well ones.”
Amusement took Pippa. It felt okay having Wolfe there, too. Somehow, even though there were three large men in the room, she felt safe. “It’s perfect. Thanks.”
Wolfe glanced down at Mal. “How are you?”
“Busted up but will survive. Where’s the rest of the gang?” Mal asked.
Raider rubbed a scratch across his cheekbone. “Force and Nari are interviewing the cult women we managed to save. Once we get information, we’ll try to find help for them. Especially that April you were worried about.”
Mal’s shoulders seemed to relax. Pippa smiled.
Raider continued. “Brigid is conducting computer searches to trace all movements of other cult members. We found the new family home in Kansas City. We have work to do.”
Pippa bit her lip. “Find anything else?”
“Yeah. We’re handling the killing of Mark and the young woman right now. It’s no problem.” Raider’s face softened. “You don’t have to worry about that. Even if your prints are on the knife, we have you covered between your statement and Trixie’s. So no worrying.”
She nodded. She and Trixie could take a lie detector test if necessary, but she didn’t think it’d get to that point. The Requisition folks had her covered. So this was what real safety felt like. “Thank you,” she said.
Raider clapped Wolfe on the back. “I’ll drive you and Kat back before you get us kicked out of the hospital.”
Wolfe nodded. “See you at the office.” With a wink, he was gone.
Pippa straightened beneath the blankets. “You have a nice group. At your office. Good people.”
“Yeah.” He took her hand in his. “So.”
“So.” Tingles wandered down her torso. What now?
Mal was thoughtful for a moment. “What Isaac said. About you—”
She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t matter. My dad was a hero in the army, and he died when I was six.” She believed that in her heart, and that’s where it mattered.
“Understood.” Mal’s gaze softened.
“Thank you for saving my life.” It was the least she could say.
“Always.” The way he said the word, it sounded like he had plans. “Here’s the deal.” His gaze cut away.
Was he nervous? The idea warmed her with a soft delight. “We’re making a deal?”
He nodded and focused those amazing green eyes back on her. “Yeah. We haven’t known each other very long, so this is the plan. We’re going to date for a while. Get to know each other. Get you used to the outside world in your own time.”
“My own time,” she murmured.
“Yeah. Then maybe we’ll move in together. Test the waters.” He cleared his throat. “After an acceptable time, I’ll ask you to marry me in some crazy way, and then you’ll say yes.”
Her heart lurched. Even the monitor buzzed.
“Do you want kids?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Okay. We’ll have a boy and then a girl, and then maybe a couple more. I’ll keep working with Force for a while, and then I’ll figure out what I want to do. I mean, we’ll figure it out.” He swallowed, and that foresty gaze seemed to bore right into her heart. “Okay?” Then he seemed to hold his breath.
Delight burst through her, brighter than any color she could imagine. “I’m not sure you can plan all of that, especially the order of kids.”
“I can try.” His eyebrows lifted.
“I have a counter proposal,” she murmured, so warm she couldn’t believe it. “How about you move in right now? I’m tired of not living. So let’s live together.”
His grin held a sweetness he rarely showed. “Good line.”
Yeah, it was. It really was.
“I accept your proposal,” he murmured, leaning in to gently kiss her lips. “In case I forgot during all that planning, I love you. Always will, no matter what.”
Her breath caught. Was it possible to be this happy? “I love you, too.”
“It’s gonna be a good life, Pippa. That I promise.” He kissed her nose and leaned back.
She nodded. Yeah. He was right. She’d make sure of it.
Epilogue
Malcolm West walked into the bull pen of the HDD and stopped short. A tarp covered the desks, which had been shoved to the middle of the room. Bon Jovi blared from a speaker pod in the corner, and Roscoe was dancing near it, shaking his furry ass like his life depended on it.
“The dog has issues,” Wolfe said, not looking away from the wall he was painting a soothing beige. Kat peeked out of his pocket, looked around, meowed loudly, and then snuggled back down.
Pippa laughed next to Mal, and the sound filled his chest. She’d been released from the hospital two weeks earlier, and anything that made her happy was a good thing as far as he was concerned.
Angus stood on a ladder and painted the top of the far wall while Raider painted along the base; there was a strip of paint down the ba
ck of his dark T-shirt. Apparently, there had already been a paint fight.
Brigid walked in from the computer room, paint all over her T-shirt and even on her chin.
Mal grinned. “Did you paint the wall or yourself?”
She snorted and rolled her eyes, grabbing a couple of paintbrushes off the tarp and heading his way. “I hope you’re here to work.”
He nodded and accepted a brush before handing one to Pippa. They’d both worn old clothing, and she looked adorable with her hair in twin braids. He couldn’t help but tug one.
She playfully slapped his hand and took her brush over to Raider to paint where she could reach.
Malcolm watched her, wondering when he’d lose the hypervigilance he always experienced with her. Ever since he’d seen her with a bomb on her back, he hadn’t been able to let her get far from his sight. The good news was that she seemed to like spending time with him.
The bad news was that he’d probably need to talk to the shrink for a while. He rubbed his aching ribs. It had been two weeks, and his torso still hurt.
Brigid rocked back on her heels. “Still in pain?” Her slight accent warmed her words.
“It’s better.” He studied the area. “The new paint on the walls makes the ceiling look horrible.” Dingy and old.
Nari Zhang stepped out of her office, her feet in dark running shoes. “I’ve ordered new lights, and we’ll paint the ceiling next. We have screens coming for the walls that’ll make it look like we have windows, and then we can do something with the concrete floor.” Her painting clothes were dark jeans and a red-checked shirt. Not a drop of paint was on her yet. She moved past Roscoe, petted him, and then crossed into Force’s office. “We’ll do this office next,” she called out, her voice thoughtful.
Brigid watched Nari and then sighed, turning back to Mal. “That’s a good plan.” Her eyes darkened.
Mal frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Brigid shrugged her shoulders and tried to tug down her paint-riddled shirt. When Malcolm just stared at her, she rolled her eyes. “It’s just that she’s so, well, so put together? You know?” Her voice lowered to a whisper.