Labyrinth (32 page)

Chapter 37

Fairclough led Annja down the hallway. He glanced back at her. “Are you still with me, Annja? Still feeling all melancholy?”

Annja looked through him. He didn’t matter anymore. She’d been giving him all sorts of credit throughout her ordeal in the maze—what was he up to; what was he trying to accomplish? And she realized that was wrong. Showing Fairclough respect had been more than he deserved.

So Annja stopped caring about him.

Fairclough didn’t like the fact that she didn’t answer him. He stopped and leaned closer to her. “I asked you a question.”

“Did you?”

Fairclough leaned back. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Annja shrugged. “I’m not sure if I did. What did you ask me again? I might have been thinking about something else.”

“I asked if you were still melancholy.” Fairclough’s eyes narrowed as he repeated himself.

Annja took a breath and blew it out. “I’m not really sure. What I do know is that you don’t matter all that much to me any longer.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Fairclough’s face reddened. “I’m in control of this situation.”

“Okay,” said Annja. “You’re in control. Congratulations. I don’t really care, however.”

“You ought to care,” said Fairclough. “I’ve been hunting you for years now.”

Annja shrugged. “Well, I probably did something that hurt you a lot. And for that, I’m sorry. But it doesn’t mean I don’t deserve whatever it is you’re about to do.”

“You…what?” Fairclough grabbed her by the neck. “What the hell is the matter with you, woman?”

“I told you,” said Annja. “I don’t much care about what happens to me anymore.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it?”

Fairclough nodded. “You ought to be cowering in fear of what I’m about to do to you. The payback I’m about to collect for what you did to my family. It’s a horrible ending for you, Annja. And you ought to be scared.”

“I’ve seen lots of things in my life. But I learned that by fearing them, I’ve actually been empowering them. I don’t know if I’m going to do that again. Evil is going to be evil no matter what I do, so why give it any extra power or respect? That doesn’t make sense.”

“But you will respect me!” Fairclough yelled.

Annja only shook her head. “I don’t know that I will. I’m sorry, but I think I’ve already given you more respect than you deserve.”

“You’ve given me nothing of what you owe me, Annja Creed.” Fairclough was almost spitting now as his face continued to grow more red. “You killed my brother and ruined the only family I had.”

“I killed your brother?”

“Yes.”

Annja considered this. She’d killed many people since the sword had come into her life. And to think, she once thought that having the sword would help her protect people. But she’d spilled more blood than she’d saved lives.

Annja bowed her head. “I’m sorry for your loss. Truly, I am. I realize that I can’t bring him back, but I feel bad that you suffered that loss by my hand.”

Fairclough was silent for a moment. “Where is your sword now?”

Annja shrugged. “Where it goes when I don’t have it out.”

“Can you get it?”

Annja paused and then nodded. “Of course.”

“In that case, I want you to give it to me.”

Annja looked at him. “I don’t think so.”

Fairclough frowned. “If you were genuinely sorry, then you’d be willing to part with it.”

Annja shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that I don’t think it’s possible for me to give the sword to someone else. I tried earlier, in your maze. As soon as I handed it to Kessel, the sword vanished.”

“Did you really want to be rid of it then?”

Annja considered that. “Well, no, I guess not. I thought I might need it to fight my way out of your maze.”

“And what about now?” Fairclough’s voice was quiet. “Do you still want it so badly?”

“I don’t want it at all,” Annja said. “I’ve given my life to the service of it and it failed to protect a person I cared about. So what’s the use any longer?”

“Perhaps it would be better if you did let it go. You might even get your life back, eh?”

She nodded.

“Then do it, Annja. If you truly no longer want it, give it to me now. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Then give me your sword.”

B
EHIND
THEM
FARTHER
down the corridor, Kessel crouched near the wall. He’d overheard the conversation and his mind was racing. What had happened to him? And why was Annja just letting herself be led around by Fairclough like this?

He’d already seen the two bodies near the control room. Greene was dead—that was good news—and the Asian man had been disemboweled, presumably by Annja’s sword.

The last thing Kessel could remember was Jonas standing behind him when he’d been strapped into the dentist’s chair.

And then he winced as the memories of the agony came flooding back. My God, the pain!

Kessel’s heart started pounding and he had to take several deep breaths to calm himself. There’d be time to sort out Jonas for what he’d done.

But right now, he had to help Annja.

She didn’t seem to understand what Fairclough was asking her to do. Hand over her sword? It wouldn’t work, right?

And what if it did? What if she was actually able to give it to Fairclough? That would make the old man virtually indestructible. There’d be no telling what sort of evil he could spread.

Kessel got to his feet.

He had to stop Annja from giving it to him.

“I
F
YOU
GIVE
ME
your sword, I promise that I will forgive you, Annja Creed,” Fairclough said. “I’ll forgive you for killing my brother and destroying my family.”

Annja looked up at him. “You will?”

Fairclough nodded. “You have my word of honor on it. Despite what you may think of me, I am a man of honor. And if I give you my word, then you don’t need to question it.”

Annja bowed her head.

She saw the sword in the otherwhere.

And reached out for it.

K
ESSEL
STUMBLED
ON
. His legs still seemed to be awkward, as if he’d forgotten how to move. It was a bizarre feeling to look at the hallway ahead of him and know he needed to walk down it—he could see himself doing it—but then his body just didn’t respond as well as it used to.

That damned doctor had done something to him that had fouled him up and good. Kessel cursed. Maybe the effects were only temporary. Maybe with each step his body and brain were learning how to work together again.

Maybe.

Kessel refused to let it slow him down. He pushed off from the wall and kept himself moving forward.

He had to help Annja.

A
NNJA
HELD
THE
SWORD
in her hands and it glowed in the corridor. She could see the desire in Fairclough’s eyes as it lit up his face. He wanted the blade.

Badly.

“It’s incredible,” he breathed. “Is it heavy?”

Annja shrugged. “It weighs about what you’d expect. But I don’t find it so tiring to swing it around.”

“Amazing. And it’s really the sword that once belonged to Joan of Arc?”

“From what we’ve been able to figure out, yes,” she said. “She was obviously an incredible warrior. Far better than I’ll ever be.”

Fairclough shook his head. “Don’t belittle yourself, Annja. It’s unbecoming for someone with your skill. There’s humility and then there’s just foolishness. You are every bit the warrior she was. In some respects, I’d imagine you are far superior to her.”

“It doesn’t matter any longer. I’m done fighting. I’m tired. And I don’t feel like I’ve made a difference. Look at what I did to you. If I hadn’t killed your brother, would you even have done any of this? No. So, because of my actions against your brother, I’m directly responsible for the deaths of a lot of innocent people.” She paused. “I can’t live with that anymore.”

Fairclough took a breath. “Then are you ready to give up the sword, Annja? Are you truly ready?”

“Yes,” Annja said. “I am.”

“Then do it.”

A
S
K
ESSEL
WATCHED
in disbelief, Annja held her sword up and then closed her eyes. For a brief second, there was nothing, and then she lowered the sword in front of her face, turned it around and handed it over hilt first to Fairclough.

As he wrapped his hands around it, a sharp crackle of electricity punctured the hallway. Kessel winced, expecting the sword to vanish as it had when Annja had tried to give it to him.

Except the sword didn’t disappear.

Fairclough stood in the hallway holding Annja’s blade.

My God, Kessel thought, she’s done it.

Annja Creed had given away her sword.

Chapter 38

Fairclough stood still, not even daring to draw a breath. His eyes gleamed with excitement and his hands would have shaken if not for the fact that he now held the sword of Annja Creed.

He still couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy to convince her to part with it. And then so easy to get the sword.

The blade gleamed as he held it in front of his face. The gray glow that had illuminated part of the hallway seemed brighter now and less gray. Fairclough found that interesting. Perhaps it really was time for Annja to separate herself from it. Perhaps the gray glow meant that her energy with the sword was waning.

And now that it had a new owner, things were already different.

Amazing.

Annja stood there watching him intently. But there was no regret on her face. None whatsoever. If anything, she looked relieved. After a moment, she asked him quietly, “Are you happy now?”

Fairclough nodded. “I am.” He looked at her. “And I meant what I said. I have forgiven you, Annja.”

“Thank you.”

“No,” said Fairclough. “Thank
you
. You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment. And there were times I didn’t dare dream that it might even be possible. I’m quite amazed that I stand before you now holding your very sword.”

“But you do.”

“Yes,” he said. “I do. And I won’t ever part with it. Unlike you, I will cherish this gift that is now part of me.”

Annja nodded. “Use it in good spirit and conscience. It deserves to be used well.”

Fairclough glared at her. “Are you telling me how to use what is mine?”

“I’m telling you the sword is yours and I hope that it’s put to good use. That’s all.”

“Of course you are.” He smiled. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

Fairclough grinned. “To the doctor’s office, of course. He’s expecting us.”

“I thought you told me you’d forgive me if I gave you the sword.” Annja’s brow furrowed. “But you’re still going to make him do that…thing?”

Fairclough shushed her. “Don’t be upset, my dear. I did forgive you. But that doesn’t mean your crimes are excused. It means you’ve admitted your guilt and culpability in the murders that you committed. And I can’t let those go unpunished.”

Fairclough laughed long and loud, a shrill nasal sound that echoed off the walls of the hallway and made the man behind them wince.

I
T
WAS
DONE
.

Kessel had frozen in place when he realized that Fairclough now had Annja’s sword. How was Kessel going to rescue Annja now? He stood no chance against that sword, not in his present condition.

Fairclough would cut him down without any effort at all.

How could she do it? He wanted to scream at her that she shouldn’t give it to him, but his voice failed him and what should have been a shout came out as a croak instead.

It was as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

And look at the result, he thought with a frown. Fairclough had control of the sword and was still going to kill Annja.

Enraged, Kessel had to take several breaths to calm himself down. Like all warriors, Kessel knew that rage had very limited uses. Too much emotion meant that he would lose control and be at the mercy of his opponents.

But rage tempered to acute anger could be a useful tool. And so Kessel began a series of biofeedback exercises he’d learned on the Teams.

And when he was ready, Kessel moved again.

F
AIRCLOUGH
LED
A
NNJA
toward the examination room. Outside the door, he let her go in first. The bright white luminescent interior showed that Jonas had settled in well. He’d moved the chair into position and was dressed in scrubs with a mask over his face.

He looked up as they entered. “Where’s Greene?”

“Fairclough shot him,” Annja said.

“What?”

“It gets worse. He’s got my sword now.”

Fairclough stepped out from behind Annja and held the sword aloft. “What do you think, Jonas? Rather a compelling picture, isn’t it? And no offense, Annja, but I rather think the sword looks better in my hands than it ever did in yours.”

“How could you kill Greene?” Jonas asked. “We had an agreement. We were supposed to be partners!”

Fairclough kept staring at the sword. “You know, Doctor, Greene really ought to have been more careful about voicing his concerns. He knew I had this place wired for video and sound and yet he felt safe to talk about betraying me. I know you both had that conversation.”

Jonas backed up. “I never agreed. I only went along because Greene was mentally unstable.”

Annja sniffed. “And you’re a beacon of rational thought, huh?”

Jonas ignored her. “Seriously, Fairclough, I never intended to stab you in the back. I even made some adjustments to Kessel in case Greene got carried away and suspected me of not backing him.”

Fairclough smiled. “And that is why you are still alive, my good doctor. I saw the adjustments you made to Kessel. Not that it helped all that much, since Annja still killed him. But I appreciate your professed loyalty.”

“Well, it’s just that you’d been good to us—what with the money and resources and stuff like that.”

Fairclough’s smile grew. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”

“I’m still ready to play for your team.”

“I know,” Fairclough said. “Which is why I need you to go ahead and carry out your brain control on Annja here. And I need it done immediately.”

Jonas nodded. “All right, I’ll get an IV line into her so I can anesthetize her and get started.”

“No anesthesia,” Fairclough said.

Jonas looked at him. “Are you kidding? The pain almost killed the big FBI agent. Surely it will hurt her that much more.”

“And that would be tragic.” Fairclough eyed Annja. “But she gets no anesthesia. I want her awake and able to feel every twinge of pain and agony as you destroy her brain and turn her into my slave.”

K
ESSEL
HAD
DRAWN
almost level to the medical examination room. He felt slightly woozy and he figured that was from the extreme duress his body had been under for the past day or so, not to mention the cerebral edema and then Jonas poking around in his skull. That’d be enough to put anyone else on a slab, he thought with a grin.

But not him.

Kessel pushed off the wall next to him and moved closer to the doorway. He saw Jonas readying things as Fairclough forced Annja into the chair.

The chair.

The same chair Kessel had sat in right before Jonas had turned him into a zombie.

Kessel felt the pull of the rage he’d kept controlled. Giving in would be so easy, but the result would be undisciplined chaos. He needed focused vengeance.

And for Annja’s sake, Kessel had to make sure he didn’t put her in more danger or make a bad situation even worse.

But when he got his hands on Jonas, all bets were off the table.

J
ONAS
STRAPPED
A
NNJA
into the chair, tightening the wrist straps as much as he could without cutting off her circulation. He glanced at her. “Sorry I have to tie these so tight, but I’m afraid the pain is going to make you want to tear your arms off. And I can’t afford to have you do that, or else I might accidentally turn you into a vegetable.”

Annja eyed him. “Yeah, that would be the last thing we’d want to happen, wouldn’t it?”

Jonas shrugged. “This isn’t my fault. I’m just doing as ordered.”

Annja almost laughed. “I love people who use that defense. You know, the crazy thing about life is that you can always stop what you’re doing and choose to take a stand for what’s right. It’s not rocket science. The problem is, people are lazy and it’s easier not to care. It’s easier not to rock the boat or risk conflict.”

Jonas frowned. “Hey, you gave up your sword. What does that say about you and your so-called fight for the powers of good?”

Annja ignored him. “The problem with being lazy is that, sooner or later, if you’ve never stood up for anyone else, when evil comes knocking on your door, no one will be there to have your back.” She smiled. “And you’ll get squashed.”

Jonas backed away. “Lady, I only want to stay alive.”

“What sort of life is it when you spend it hiding in fear and insecurity? Better to be dead having taken a stand for what’s right than laid down for evil.”

“Hypocrisy.”

Jonas looked at Fairclough, who was still admiring the sword in his hands. “She’s ready.”

Fairclough seemed almost not to hear him, but then he nodded. “In that case, begin.”

K
ESSEL
TOOK
THREE
deep breaths, then pushed off from the wall opposite the examination room entrance and launched himself through the doorway.

Jonas saw him first and his eyes went wide as Kessel barreled into him. Together they crashed back into a tray of surgical implements, knocking it over and spilling the tools everywhere.

Jonas screamed as Kessel came up astride his chest and rained down half a dozen punches on the doctor. “You did this to me,” Kessel said through gritted teeth. “And now I aim to repay you for your service.”

Jonas brought his hands up to ward off the attacks, but Kessel was too strong and too committed. He saw one of the scalpels out of the corner of his eye, lying on the floor.

With one hand holding Jonas down, Kessel reached for it.

Then he brought it up over Jonas’s right eyeball. “I’m going to cut you into very, very small pieces now, Doctor.”

Jonas shrieked and waved his head from side to side. Kessel punched him in the jaw and Jonas stopped moving, dazed as he was from the blow. Kessel leaned over him.

And brought the scalpel down toward the soft, gelatinous eyeball.

“Stop!”

Kessel jerked around.

Fairclough held the sword—Annja’s sword—high over Annja’s head.

Kessel froze.

Fairclough nodded. “That’s right. Just stop moving. You even blink and I’ll chop her head right off.”