The clamshell case popped open. Both men flinched.
“Fuck,” one of them muttered. “What a stench.”
Gil crossed his arm over his chest. Elisa strained to see more, but all she could see were the table legs and men’s boots. “What’s in the case?” Gil asked.
“Dirty underwear,” Nate said.
Gil approached the table cautiously. “That’s disgusting,” he snapped.
In a moment, Gil was back in her line of vision, carrying the flash drive, wrapped in a tissue. Gil cleaned it carefully as he sat down in front of a laptop.
He opened it, and Elisa twisted around to watch him.
“For the love of God, close that case,” Gil said impatiently. “I can smell it from all the way across the room. And get him over here.”
One of his men slapped the case closed and jerked Nate away from it, dragging him by a handful of his hair toward Gil.
“If this is, in fact, the drive I wanted to retrieve, I’ll be able to tell if you’ve decrypted it, or copied it,” Gil told him. “If you have, things will be very bad for you. But then, they already are. One moment here, while I…just…decrypt this…”
They all listened to the clacking of the keyboard in the silent room.
The video began to play. The computer’s speaker was tinny, but clear. They heard a sharp smacking sounds. Hands striking flesh. Choked whimpers. Shrieks. Pleading, as the blows continued to fall.
Gil stared at it, as if hypnotized. His face was lit up with the eerie glow of the keyboard, and his eyes had little points of blue. His mouth looked heavy. Slack.
Then he appeared to suddenly realized that they were all there, waiting and watching him.
“Sorry,” he said with a rueful smile. “Just curious, you see. This is the first time I’ve had a chance to see this with my own eyes. Stimulating. I’ll study it later, at my leisure. From what this program tells me, it has not been opened, copied or touched in any way since that day eight months ago when Erasma decrypted it and played it for you. Good for me, but pathetic for you. You’re such a pussy, Louisa.”
She let out a sharp laugh. “You had my brother, you asshole.”
“Love makes you weak,” Gil said. “Or so they tell me. I wouldn’t know.”
He stood up, pulling the flash drive out and tucking it into his pants pocket. “One thing I definitely learned from you, Louisa, after the hell you put me through. Do you want to know what it is?”
“I’m sure you want to tell me,” she said, through gritted teeth. “Spit it out.”
“The next time I pick out a wife, I’ll know exactly what not to look for,” he said. “No more home improvement projects. No saying, oh, but, this one has so much potential. Next time, I’m getting someone who’s camera-ready from the very first day. A real partner. One who’s ready to bring it, at a moment’s notice. Beauty, body, brains. More than you, Louisa. And ambition. That was the crucial ingredient, and you lacked it. Those qualities are even more important than money. You taught me that.”
“Wow, Gil, that’s so deep,” she said crisply. “You taught me a lot, too.”
“I certainly tried to,” he remarked. “God, how I tried. But you are a slow learner.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she said. “But I don’t think you’d ever understand.”
“You certainly were stubborn about all that art nonsense,” he said. “I had to go to so much trouble to squash it. You wouldn’t believe how Herzog pushed back.”
“Herzog?” she asked. “Pushed back how? About what?”
Gil sniffed. “I had to put the thumbscrews onto that bloviating asshole so damn hard to get him to review that silly art show the way I wanted him to,” he said. “He whined like a little bitch. But he did what he was told in the end. Good old Herzog.”
“You…” She sucked in air. “Oh, holy shit. His review? You made Herzog pan my show?”
“Of course,” Gil said impatiently. “I couldn’t have him fawning on you. Feeding your ego and distracting you. I needed your absolute attention. I couldn’t have you knocked off track by silly little hobbies at the very beginning of my political career.”
A low whistle broke the silence, from Nate. “Whoa,” he said. “Dude. I knew you were a prick, but congratulations. You have surpassed my wildest expectations.”
Without even glancing at Nate, Gil gestured at William. “Hit him,” he said.
William smashed his fist into Nate’s jaw. The two men holding him stumbled and reeled to keep their balance.
“Don’t be rude,” Gil said coldly. “Not while I’m still deciding how you’re going to die.” He looked down at Elisa. “He’d be a nice addition to the overdose scene. Two junkies, egging each other on. Right over a cliff. But I think I’d rather watch him bleed and scream.”
Gil and his men were so focused looking at her and Nate, no one saw the strange objects floating down in front of the picture windows—until the red dot of the laser sight appeared on the wall.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Gunfire ripped through windows and walls. The sound was deafening. Glass shattered. She heard screams. They seemed to come from miles away. Men on the ground, writhing. Blood. She twisted desperately, craning her neck to see if any of them were Nate.
“Drones!” someone yelled. “Fucking drones! What the fuck…?”
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Then she saw him on the ground. Face first. Shot. Oh God.
“Nate!” she shrieked.
24
Nate hit the floor, twisting to look for Elisa. Bullets strafed the place, punching into walls, tearing through furniture.
“Nate!” He turned to see her scrambling toward him on hands and knees.
“Get down!” he yelled. “On your belly!”
She couldn’t hear him. He could hardly hear himself. He launched himself toward her, rolling, and flung himself on top of her. Her chest heaved, struggling for air, and her body vibrated. He recognized the vibrations as speech, but he couldn’t hear a damn thing through the stuttering gunfire.
Finally the shooting slowed, just enough to make out the words.
“…Nate? Nate! I see blood! Are you shot? Roll off me! I can’t move!”
He shifted, sliding off her. His arm felt sticky, but he couldn’t see it, not with his shoulders hyper-extended. Burning in his upper arm. Blood soaked his sleeve.
“Oh, God, Nate! You’re shot!” She pulled away, lifting herself up.
“Get down!” he hissed, as gunfire roared again. She cowered down against him, her body shaking.
The next time they could hear each other again, she said, “I’m going to grab one of those pieces of glass to cut your handcuffs.”
“Elisa, don’t move!” He lunged after her as she wiggled away. “Those drones will—Elisa! Get back here! For fuck’s sake!”
He couldn’t stop her, but fortunately, she didn’t have to go far. There was no shortage in shards of glass scattered across the carpet. The couch had shielded them from most of it, or they would have been sliced and diced.