Chapter 1112
They climbed the spiral staircase. It seemed to go on forever. Skye’s shoulder throbbed in time with her heartbeat, the painkillers fighting a losing battle against the exertion, but the adrenaline cocktail Alistair had injected was holding her upright and focused.
They reached the top. The metal door groaned open.
Parker was waiting. He had untied Victoria from the chair and now held her in front of him as a human shield, the gun pressed to her temple.
“Stop right there!”
They froze.
“Give me the Drive,” Parker demanded, thrusting out a shaking hand.
Skye stepped forward. “Here.”
She held it up.
“Toss it,” Parker ordered.
Skye looked at him. Then at the Ruby Drive.
“You know,” she said, her voice almost conversational, “this chip contains the banking codes for the entire Syndicate network. Billions of dollars.”
“I know!” Parker licked his lips. “Toss it!”
“That’s a lot of power for one man,” Skye said. “Especially a man being controlled by a voice in his own head.”
“Shut up!” Parker screamed. “Give it to me!”
Skye glanced at Alistair. He gave her a microscopic nod.
She pulled her arm back as if to throw it across to Parker.
But instead of releasing it toward him, she turned and hurled it as hard as she could through the broken window.
The Ruby Drive sailed out into the darkness, catching the lighthouse beam one last time before disappearing into the crashing waves below.
“Oops,” Skye said.
Parker stared at the empty window. His mouth fell open. The gun wavered.
“NO!” he shrieked.
In that instant, Victoria drove her elbow backward into Parker’s stomach.
He doubled over.
Alistair lunged.
But Parker was fueled by madness. He backhanded Victoria, sending her sprawling, and fired a wild shot that sparked off the metal floor.
“You ruined everything!” Parker screamed, swinging the gun toward Skye.
Bang.
A shot rang out — but not from Parker.
From below.
Parker’s shoulder erupted in a spray of red. He spun around, dropped the gun, and collapsed against the railing.
Skye looked down through the metal grating. Julian was slumped across the hood of the car, smoke drifting from his pistol, Ethan’s hands bracing his arm. He had taken the shot from the ground.
Victoria scrambled away from Parker on her hands and knees, moving toward them.
Parker sank to his knees. He looked up at them, clutching his bleeding shoulder, the madness in his eyes flickering and then dimming, replaced by something that looked almost like confusion.
“Vic?” he whispered. “Why — why does it hurt?”
“It wasn’t the real one,” Skye murmured to Alistair.
“Figured,” Alistair said. “Where’s the real one?”
“My bra,” Skye muttered.
Parker groaned and slumped further. The fight had gone out of him entirely.
Then a red laser dot appeared on Parker’s chest.
Thwip.
Parker’s head snapped back. He went limp and slid down the railing to the floor.
No one moved.
Someone else was here.
Alistair shoved Skye down instantly.
“Sniper!” he roared.
They all dropped to the metal floor as another bullet sparked off the railing where Skye had been standing a moment before.
“They’re cleaning up loose ends,” Alistair hissed, crawling over to check Parker. He shook his head. Gone.