Cicero’s voice became clearer the closer Elliot got to the platform.
“... didn’t know who she was at first... how technology changed over time!... You know, the first couple years, she sent letters to make our plans?... I miss the phone calls, really. Hated the BlackBerries, but I liked the personal touch... it wasn’t until video conferencing that I figured it out.”
“You mean Mastermind’s identity,” said Anthony. Elliot’s heart leapt when he heard Anthony’s voice. He sounded calm and collected—as if being tied to a launching rocket was just another day’s work.
Then again—it probably is. At least once, anyway.
“I understand your shock, of course. I could barely believe it myself, I must admit. Then again, I’d known for quite some time that whoever Mastermind was, they were fairly high up within the DVM. Didn’t you ever wonder how I always escaped from those prison cells? I sure did.”
“I’d always assumed—” Anthony cut off abruptly. Elliot wondered why, until he realized.
Anthony stared right at him.
Shit, thought Elliot, quickly motioning for Anthony to keep talking. You idiot! Don’t let him know I’m here!
Anthony, at least, caught on. “—assumed you had bribed a guard. It could have been a trap.”
“Exactly! This is why I like you, Anthony, you and I think the same way.”
“Not quite.”
“Close enough! It was as easy as checking out of a hotel.”
Anthony kept his eyes on Cicero, but it felt like he’d never stopped looking at Elliot. “Stay in a lot of hotels? Under what names, exactly? And if you don’t mind spelling them out?”
Elliot wanted to burst into laughter. You asshole... this is not the time for getting background information.
Even if it would be totally useful in finding his hidden assets.
Cicero stopped typing. “Seriously? You’re going to die by rocket, and you’re asking me for my aliases?”
Anthony shrugged. “Well. It’s keeping you distracted.”
“From what?” sneered Cicero.
“From me,” said Elliot, behind him.
Cicero turned around, mouth agape.
“Hi,” said Elliot, and wacked him over the head with the crowbar.
It was much easier than Elliot had imagined. Cicero went down with a loud, echoing bang—and Elliot barely waited for him to hit the floor before sprinting over to Anthony.
“Disable the rocket!” he yelled at Daria.
“On it!” yelled Daria, leaping to the computer console, O’Leary at her heels.
Elliot turned back to Anthony.
“That was—” began Anthony.
Elliot didn’t let him finish. He grabbed hold of Anthony’s lapels and pulled Anthony to him in a searing kiss—as much as he was able, considering that Anthony was still tied to the rocket.
“You asshole,” Elliot gasped after breaking the kiss a moment later. “You left me.”
“Cicero wants you dead,” said Anthony. Or probably tried to say; most of it was lost in the second kiss.
Elliot broke the kiss and started working on the ropes. “Why would he want me dead?”
“Because you were too close to exposing his connection to O’Leary. Take down the funding, take down his escape route,” explained Anthony. “Well. Most of his escape route. Bea is Mastermind.”
“I know, we’d just figured that out when you left me behind.” Elliot yanked at the ropes. “Shit, when did Cicero get so good at knots?”
“Glue?” guessed Anthony. “Secret Boy Scout? There’s a knife in my pocket.”
“Oh, is that what that is.”
“The other pocket.”
“Fantas—”
The rocket rumbled and shook; the very air around them grew hot and smoky.
“What the fuck?” yelled Elliot. “Daria, can’t you stop—?”
“She probably could,” yelled O’Leary. “But she’s a bit under the weather, as it turns out.”
Elliot glanced over his shoulder and froze.
Daria was lying on the platform, out cold next to Cicero. Archibald O’Leary stood over them, wielding the crowbar that Elliot had dropped.
“You’re a smart man, Elliot Bichler,” O’Leary shouted. “Too smart for your own good. I’m afraid you’ll have to die along with Anthony.”
“What?” yelled Elliot. “O’Leary—”
“O’Leary, you don’t want to kill him!” Anthony shouted. “I know you told Cicero it was a terrible idea!”
O’Leary laughed. “Oh, Anthony! I’m the one who ordered Syl to kill him.”
“You don’t have to do it,” Anthony continued. “You’re only an accessory! You’ll only serve twenty, maybe forty years in jail and lose most of your savings—”
O’Leary reached over and hit a key on the computer.
Anthony started to grow taller.
No, realized Elliot with horror. Anthony wasn’t growing taller.
Anthony was launching. On the rocket.
“What the hell, O’Leary?” yelled Elliot.
“I’m not wasting my time on a monologue!” O’Leary yelled back.
The movement from the ground was swift and took Elliot by complete surprise. One moment O’Leary stood at the controls; the next, his legs were swept out from under him and he fell to the ground with a crash.
“Monologues are not a waste!” shrieked Cicero. “They’re the best part.”
Cicero and O’Leary continued to grapple at each other on the floor. They were so involved in each other, neither of them noticed Daria creeping back to the computer console.
She won’t have time to stop it, thought Elliot, and kept sawing at Anthony’s ropes with the knife.
“Elliot, get away! Save yourself!”
“Not without you.”
The rocket launched.
It was ridiculously loud. Anthony shouted, but Elliot only heard a roar that came from all directions.
Everything was shaking. Elliot barely held on to the ropes.
Anthony—rather than shoving Elliot away—wrapped his arms around him and held him tight.
Elliot closed his eyes and buried his face into Anthony’s chest. His stomach swooped as the rocket cleared the building and rose into the sky. It was more like riding a roller coaster than the sharp drop on the airplane as it launched out of the cliffs—or the sudden freefall as he’d jumped from the exploding plane.
In a way, this felt safer.
This time, Anthony was right there next to him.
And Anthony always walks away. Even when his partner doesn’t.
It shouldn’t have been comforting. After all, Elliot was the partner.
But somehow... it was. Strange enough.
Stranger still, the roar faded. The rocket still moved, of course—the wind whipped by so fast it was almost painful—but Elliot heard the pounding of Anthony’s heart. He heard Anthony’s voice, too. The longer Anthony spoke, the easier it was to understand what he said.
“... have left you behind. I know it was stupid, but I didn’t want you to be another picture on Bea’s wall. I needed to know you’d be waiting if I got out of this. Even if you couldn’t forgive me for what I was going to do to Cicero.”