Moving stealthily, he passed from the landing to the living room until he arrived in a very minimalistic office. Here, he saw the first signs of a disturbance. Lying on the floor was a chipped crystal paperweight with what appeared to be blood on it. There was also a bit of blood on the floor nearby. It looked as if it had hurriedly been swiped at with a cloth. Whoever did this was trying to cover it up, and they’d missed a bit in their haste.

  He moved through a hallway, moving through a breakfast room into the kitchen. “Agent Jeong? CJ? This is Grady Eckles. Are you here? Call out if you can hear me.”

  He strained his ears. There! It was a muffled thumping coming from somewhere nearby. He gripped his weapon tighter, edging forward toward the location of the sound.

  “CJ? Am I getting close?” His response was a more frantic thumping that got louder and louder as he moved forward.

  He came to a door just beyond the kitchen that he assumed was a pantry or storage room. He put his ear to the door, hearing a steady thumping noise at this point, not against the door, but an interior wall. He tried the door handle — locked.

  “CJ, if you can hear me and you’re able, get back from the door. I’m going to have to break it down.” The thumping stopped, and he could hear scuffling sounds within.

  “I’m coming in on three. One... Two… Three!”

  With that, Eckles used every ounce of his NFL-honed physique to send the door splintering open, separating it from the door jamb. His eyes scoured the dark storage room, seeing only stacks of boxes. He edged slowly into the room. He could hear what sounded like muffled shouts, and more kicking behind the boxes. He found the light switch and flooded the small room in brightness.

  CJ was seated on the floor, her dark eyes squinting against the too-bright lights. She had a bad cut over her right eye and dried blood was caked in branches on her face. Her eyes and face were swollen and blackened, but otherwise, she seemed to be unhurt. She was anxiously straining against the duct tape covering her mouth and binding her feet and hands.

  Beside her was a large bundle with what appeared to be a timer set to go off in just under an hour. Eckles examined it quickly and determined that it was a crudely made, but no less efficient, homemade explosive device.

  Kneeling quickly by CJ’s side, he carefully removed the tape from her mouth, and she gasped loudly, taking in great gulps of fresh air.

  “Agent Eckles! I’ve never been so glad to see anybody in my life!”

  He smiled as he took his pocket knife and cut the tape on her hands. She quickly set to rubbing her shoulders and wrists, attempting to stimulate circulation. Eying her cut, he remarked, “We’ll need to alert them to clear the building and get a bomb squad in here to disable this thing… And we’ve got to get that head looked at, and—”

  CJ grabbed Eckles by the wrist, forcefully enough to cause him to look at her in alarm. “NO! We have to get to the Garden right away! Flint’s walking into a trap!”

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  Seven’s mouth was a tight line as he listened to Grady Eckles’ terse report from Inanna Laius’ townhouse. Fortunately, Agent Jeong was safe, albeit slightly the worse for the wear, but still alive.

  “We don’t have a lot of time, Eckles.” He glanced at his watch — ten minutes till the rally started, and over 20,000 people would be in imminent danger.

  “I’ve got to figure out some way to handle the situation in the Garden. We don’t have enough agents to make any real impact there. We’ll have to depend on NYPD and the Feds to handle that. Peabody is patched into the main audio-visual system there. We’ll have eyes on everything, and I’ll see if we can manage the situation somewhat. We’re contacting NYPD and the FBI right now. I think we have enough information to build a case for domestic terrorism.”

  Eckles confirmed and asked, “I’m assuming the police will be coming in quietly?”

  “Definitely. No need to create panic. If we don’t handle this as quietly as possible, we’ll have a stampede, like yelling ‘fire’ in a crowded theater. There’s enough potential for disaster based on what Jeong said. We don’t need to add to it. I’ve already alerted the bomb squad and we’ll have a med tech there shortly. The two of you need to clear out of there as soon as possible.”

  “Yeah. We’re out chief, and we’ll trip the fire alarm on the way out.” He paused, looking at a worried CJ. Is there anybody set to help out Stryker at the Garden?”

  Seven sighed loudly, “Stryker’s on his own at this point. I wish we had more to go on, but hopefully he’s in a position to be of some assistance.”

  Eckles replied, “Got it. We’re out.”

  Seven scratched his chin ruefully. How could everything go to shit so quickly?

  LESS THAN FIVE minutes till the start of the rally, and Madison Square Garden became the focus of virtually every uniformed police officer within ten miles. Federal agents also converged on the arena, presenting an impressive array of dark suits and sunglasses. Every conceivable action movie cliché was present and accounted for.

  The already-crowded floor of the Garden was becoming more and more packed as he tried to make his way to the CNN broadcasting set and Hallie Fuller. He had modified his advance route to approach her from an angle by which he might not be as easily spotted. I probably shouldn’t be worried. She only seems to have eyes for Heath Blitzen. She’s staring a hole through him.

  It seemed that the presence of New York City’s finest had increased dramatically within just a few minutes. He wondered if Linchpin had anything to do with that, and, more specifically, Seven.

  Drawing closer, navigating the sea of women, he noticed that Inanna Laius herself and her assistant Celine Winters had just walked onstage, and Laius was doing a soundcheck. This created a palpable buzz among the women, causing them to form an even tighter knot around the stage. The music intensified, and the lighting effects became even more pronounced. Something’s up.

  He noticed that Laius’ assistant was wearing a headset and appeared to be engaged in an animated conversation with somebody on the receiving end of the conversation. For her part, Laius was positioned dramatically behind center stage, with her back to the audience, just beyond the main spotlight. She looks like she’s in prayer or meditation mode.

  Suddenly, the tempo of the music changed from pre-show music to what could only be described as ‘Overly-Dramatic-Highly-Theatrical-Entrance-Music,’ and every light in the building went out. Plunged into darkness, Flint felt the panic of the women around him momentarily surge as the crush of the crowd intensified.

  Within seconds, the stage was lit by a blinding spotlight, and he heard an audible gasp go up from the crowd. There, alone on stage, stood Inanna Laius, in a pure white gown accented by a blood-red cowl, with her head bowed, and a billowing cloud of dry ice smoke at her feet. Her gown seemed to shimmer with an almost ethereal light as the lighting played on its fabric.

  The huge wall of speakers blasted her entrance music — the loud thump of the bass offset by a cacophony of loud cheers, a dazzling display of lighting effects, and the sound of all the doors to the arena opening simultaneously as a steady stream of women pushed their way in.

  The influx to the crowd was felt immediately, as the mass of people undulated and roiled like the ocean in the throes of a category 5 hurricane. The women pressed closer to the stage. Flint could feel the swell as the onslaught of bodies pressed forward. He seemed to be getting further and further away from the CNN set and Hallie Fuller. The women were oblivious to him, with all eyes focused on Inanna Laius.

  He glanced at the stage proper and saw that Laius had raised her head and was staring intently at the crowd. The women sang rapturously along to the music that was apparently Sister Inanna’s theme song. Behind her, a massive LED digital billboard displayed images of women, young and old, of every race, to the rhythm of the music, artfully interspersed with the CDRS logo. The images had been carefully chosen to represent confidence, assurance, and power.

  You’ve got to admire her flair for the theatrical.

  Flint observed that Celine Winters had positioned herself discreetly in the background just off the main stage. She was furiously swiping at her tablet as well as keeping up a steady stream of instructions with the tech crew via her headset. He turned back to re-center himself on Hallie Fuller and the CNN news set.

  He saw Hallie Fuller moving closer and closer to Heath Blitzen, who was oblivious to her presence, focused entirely on the spectacle around him. Flint could imagine the drama he was busily manufacturing for the sake of his viewers.

  If he only knew…

  SIXTY-NINE

  Eckles and CJ were in a black Tahoe just minutes away from the Garden on FDR Drive. The traffic was much heavier than usual, with scores of NYPD squad cars racing to the Garden, lights strobing away but with no sirens.

  CJ peered through her swollen eyelids, holding the ice pack they’d made just before leaving Laius’ penthouse. “There’s a lot of police cars en-route to the Garden. They’re clearing the way for us a bit.”

  Eckles nodded grimly at CJ. “Yeah. I just hope we can get there in time. Stryker is a useless sack of shit, but he’s my useless sack of shit.”

  “You don’t actually hate him, do you?” she asked, turning to study his face, her swollen eyes open only as slits.

  Eckles pondered this as he wove through traffic, closely following the police cars leading the way. Finally, he said, “No, I don’t. He pisses me off because he’s so undisciplined and such a disrespectful smartass, but he’s got good instincts, and he never gives up. If he lives long enough, he’ll make a good Linchpin agent.” He swerved to dodge a Lexus that pulled abruptly into the lane in front of him. He leaned on the horn and cursed viciously under his breath. “Sorry.”

  CJ laughed lightly. “Don’t be. Remember, I come from a family with lots of brothers. They didn’t spare me where language was concerned.”

  Eckles cut his eyes towards CJ and said casually, “So, are you and Stryker an item or what? The two of you have some sort of chemistry thing going… Am I right?”

  She kept her face toward the windshield, appearing to focus on the traffic ahead. “I think both of us are too busy trying to learn our jobs to have much time for personal liaisons. Anything you might perceive as a relationship is only a professional one.”

  Unconvinced, Eckles probed further. “Come on, CJ. It’s pretty common knowledge that you and Stryker had a little fling when you were in training together.”

  Her head snapped toward him, her countenance angry. “That’s none of your business, Agent Eckles! Flint and I work together, and that’s all there is to it! If we had a little ‘fling,’ as you call it, it was purely from the stress of training coupled with too much alcohol. I can assure you that he and I are operating solely on a professional level now.”

  Eckles appeared satisfactorily chastened by this rebuke and directed his full attention to the road ahead. “Sorry,” he muttered. “You’re right. It’s none of my business.”

  CJ tucked a raven lock of hair behind her ear and pressed the cold compress to her swollen face. “Apology accepted.” She huffed. “Let’s focus on getting to the Garden and see if we can avert a bloodbath.”

  FLINT WATCHED HELPLESSLY as Hallie Fuller edged closer to Heath Blitzen, who was in full reporter mode as he observed Inanna Laius’ dramatic entry. The crowd of women moved as one, hands raised in supplication, interspersed between singing and crying, their faces cast upward in the strobing lights. Alternating between pulsing, colored lights and bright white lights, coupled with the dramatic music, the effect on the crowd was mesmerizing.

  Ignoring his screaming muscles and the pounding headache, Flint renewed his effort to push his way through the crowd to the CNN set. Fortunately, the women surrounding him were so focused on Sister Inanna’s entrance, he was able to make progress. He kept his eyes focused squarely on Hallie Fuller, alert to any sudden movement she might make.

  Laius’ voice boomed throughout the arena. “Peace be with you, sisters.”

  “Peace be with you!” the women screamed in unison, causing Flint to turn his eyes once again toward the stage.

  Laius had now obviously arrived at her mark on the stage, the remotely controlled cameras filled the LED display behind her with an almost two-story image of her. She bowed her head slightly, eliciting an uproarious cheer from her ‘congregation.’

  “I am grateful to see so many of you true believers here today, sisters.” She swept her hands outward, indicating the audience. Another full-throated roar went up from the crowd.

  Laius held up her hands and motioned downward to urge the crowd to silence. Remarkably, the women went silent. The music also abruptly ended, and the huge room fell into an eerie stillness. Flint looked around him. The women were all staring attentively at Laius, and many were weeping.

  “It has been a difficult few days for the Church of the Divinely Redeemed Sisterhood,” she began. “Our ministry was created solely for the spiritual empowerment and betterment of women — nothing else.” The crowd began to murmur, with several affirming shouts, as Inanna again raised her hands, urging silence.

  “Like all groups who break from what is considered the norm, there has been resistance to the Church. All great spirit movements undergo a season of tests and trials. The purity of our message is revealed in how we come through this adversity.” Instrumental background music with an ethereal undertone began playing softly, the sound filling the arena from speakers positioned throughout the venue.

  “There have also been those who have attempted to co-opt our message, seeking to further their own selfish interests.” She smiled beatifically at the crowd. Flint wasn’t sure she could see anything with the spotlight trained directly on her, but the effect she created was one of personal warmth and sincerity.

  Laius’ face clouded suddenly, and her brows knit together, as she turned a cold glare towards the CNN set. “There have even been those who have dared to mock Inanna in her quest for divine enlightenment, and the sharing of her message with the Sisterhood. Some of them are among us here today.” The crowd turned almost as one towards CNN’s lead anchorperson, who had suddenly become very quiet and looked extremely uncomfortable. Blitzen’s own eyes were wide with terror as thousands of pairs of eyes honed in on him with laser focus.

  “And as a blasphemer against the Sisterhood, he must be punished…”

  Flint watched helplessly as Hallie Fuller, with every eye in the building on her, reached over and handcuffed herself to Heath Blitzen.

  SEVENTY

  The most surprised person in the room was Heath Blitzen. As if in shock, his eyes went first to the handcuffs snapped on his wrist then to the angry face of Hallie Fuller. “Wha-? What is this about?” He gulped, barely able to get the words out. The crowd of women pressed in on the two of them as Laius again raised her hands and implored silence.

  “The enemy cannot escape his blasphemy now. The Sisterhood will hold him inescapably accountable.” As she spoke, Blitzen finally regained enough of his sense to pull against the handcuffs, attempting to free himself from Hallie Fuller’s grip. Fuller gave him an evil grin as the level of panic in his face went to the maximum within seconds.

  “Let me go! You’re crazy!” He yanked his arm more forcefully, almost causing Fuller to lose her balance and fall. She whipped out her stun gun and applied it to Blitzen’s neck, sending a brief electrical burst into his system. Almost instantly, he began to twitch violently, spasming away from her. This time, she yanked on his arm, pulling him back into her grasp. Holding him with the crook of her left arm around his neck and pulling his right arm up awkwardly, she shouted, “Everyone back up! I’ve got a bomb!” With her free hand, she opened her coat to reveal that she was wearing a suicide vest.

  She’s definitely rehearsed this little maneuver, Flint thought.

  The crowd surged away from them as the women closest began to pull away. Unfortunately, the crowd was packed in so tightly, there was virtually nowhere else to go. At best, there was now a clear perimeter of five or six feet around them.

  Flint was about fifty feet away, and with the jostling of the crowd, he wasn’t sure if he could get off a clean shot without hitting anyone else. He wasn’t even sure if he could get his gun out of his holster. Of course, if she triggers her vest, they’ll all be dead anyway.

  Fuller had replaced her stun gun in her jacket pocket and was now holding what appeared to be a detonator for the suicide vest in her free hand. The stunned Blitzen appeared to be coming around but looked confused and dazed as Fuller yanked on his arm, attempting to expedite his recovery. “Come on, you worthless sack of testosterone, grow a pair and get with it.” She scowled.

  Flint looked at Sister Inanna, who by now was front and center on the main stage, standing squarely in the main spotlight. Her face was a mask of confusion. He could see on the Jumbotron that the remote cameras were focused on Fuller and the situation at the CNN set. The contrast of the hostage situation against the backdrop of smiling, confident women was almost laughable. Suddenly, the oversized LED screen displayed the video feed of the hostage drama.

  Odd. Why would her own production people focus on bad PR? Shouldn’t the cameras be focused on Inanna? Inanna stood passively center stage, her face impossible to read as the drama unfolded before her.

  Fuller gripped the detonator tightly in her right hand, her left arm keeping Blitzen close while shielding herself as much as possible. Her eyes were wild as she whispered to Blitzen, “Stay close, lover. We don’t want to be separated now, do we? As in, like, blown to pieces?”

  While he was still groggy, the stark reality of his situation had finally hit home, and Blitzen whimpered pitifully as he shook his head forcefully. Suddenly, the front of his pants displayed a dark, widening stain as he pissed himself on national TV.

 

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