It was difficult for him to keep his balance on the snowy ground, but he had an idea, launched himself at Mannie, and wrestled him back toward the open doors of the semi.

++++

Unlike the first greenhouse I’d peered into—the one with the mannequins—this one was overgrown with untended plants. The dried brown stalks reached tenaciously toward the ceiling.

Blake appeared at the end of the aisle. “Have you figured it out yet, Patrick? How it all fits together?”

I thought of the flag that’d been near the man whose throat was slit. “You treated the mannequins with Tranadyl. Once they get shipped out and people start dying, who’ll be to blame? I think you want it to be you. You want it to be the Brigade.”

“Go on. Why?”

“I don’t care why, Blake. I don’t care about your motives. I’m just here to bring you in.”

“What about the backlash of the deaths?”

“It’ll result in heightened antiterrorist campaigns.” Then I had it. “Ah. Arms sales. You’re playing both sides. But how does ending the Selzucaine shipments benefit you?”

“You’re close, Patrick, but you’re not quite there yet.”

“Quantum encryption, Krazle’s CEO, and the legislation Senator Murray is working on. It’s all connected. That closer?”

Blake didn’t reply.

“Where is Julianne Springman?”

“Gone.”

“Gone?”

“Dead.” He raised the gun and I prepared to dive to the side, but then he said, “You know what? For old times’ sake, let’s make this interesting. What do you say? We’ll see who can get to your SIG first. One of us will walk out of here alive. One of us will join Julianne.”

He slid the gun directly between us in the middle of the greenhouse.

Without a word, I flew forward.

And so did he.

81

I slid in, feet first like a baseball player sliding into the bag.

I was able to snag the gun, but Blake leapt on top of me as I did, and before I could aim it at him, he shoved me brutally to the concrete floor.

With his left hand, he pinned down my right wrist, then, straddling me, he grabbed my throat with his free hand and leaned forward, squeezing, choking me.

I tried to draw in a breath.

Nothing.

The day became a dizzy smear of darkness and bleary, drifting pain.

I attempted to aim the gun at him, but the angle wasn’t right, not with him holding down my wrist.

But it was right to aim at something else.

Find a weakness.

Exploit it.

Okay, I will.

I fired up at the glass ceiling, then squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head to the side to protect my face from what was about to happen.

I sent four shots through the glass, and as the bullets exited the ceiling, a burst of fragmented glass shards rained down over us in a deadly shower.